La Mia Avventura Italiana—Day 6

Vietri Sul Mare—My Gateway to the Amalfi Coast

Staying up till 5 AM singing Karaoke with your new Italian friends is one of those good-bad decisions one makes when traveling, especially after an intense four days of learning… eating… and drinking in an exotic locale.

Still, I managed to sleep a few hours before reclaiming my rental from the local garage in a somewhat less ancient part of Matera, cranking up the "Pop Italiana" on the FM radio, and driving 2.5 hours due west to my next stop, the Amalfi Coast.

On this leg, I finally got my Italian driving chops down. I figured out that the speed signs were minimums—not limits—and each lane had its own. And you best not dawdle in the fast line, lest some turbo-charged Audi or over-achieving Fiat 500L drive up your ass, lights strobing, with a sense of entitlement just this side of American.

As usual, I was joined to Google Maps like a cellular umbilical cord, with any signal loss or power drain the occasion for a mini-panic attack. But the drive was smooth and uneventful—until I got off the main road. That's when the nav apps seem to lose their AI (Actual Intelligence), reading off street names that weren't there or unmarked and making me guess how far 50, 100, or 500m is before this next turn or that, often misjudging and getting lost on the windy, but breathtaking, scenic roads in this part of the country.

The Hotel Raito, my home for the next three days, is a lovely, multi-level feat of architecture built high up on the mountain above the sea in a small, picturesque coastal town just southwest of Salerno called Vietri Sul Mare. My deluxe king room had a generous terrace with a 180-degree view of the coastline, including Vietri and Salerno, and the glorious azure blue Mediterranean luxuriating below as far as the eye could see—or the heart could wander. 

After taking in the view, I hit the hotel's massive blue-bottomed pool with its panoramic ocean views and swim-up bar. I did a lap or two for shits and giggles, then started pounding G&Ts garnished with succulent local lemons while befriending a tour group of mostly middle-aged American hikers having, like me, the time of their lives. Everything about this moment was refreshing. I could get used to this world traveler thing. Hmmmmmm….

Anyway, after my swim and a shower so long I felt guilty, a lovely young woman knocked on my door and presented me, from a rustic woven basket, the most beautiful red apple I'd ever seen. It was perfectly delicious too. The Italian's sense of hospitality is impeccable; little moments like this mean everything. Honestly, I'd never been so enamored with an apple before! But I'll never forget that precious piece of fruit, so ripe with biblical metaphor, as long as I live. And, while there wasn't a snake in sight, "Eve," it turns out, would join me the following evening. More on that delightful bit of Kismet later...

Too tired to venture out of the hotel, I chose to dine al fresco at the picturesque hotel restaurant located lobby-level beneath a pristine white canopy with the same gorgeous views I enjoyed from my room, although from a slightly higher perch. Lush evening breezes complimented the warm coastal ambiance, engulfing me in relaxing early summer vibes.

After eating too many of the fresh rolls slathered with anchovy butter they brought me to whet my appetite, I ordered a starter with two kinds of fish tartar, which I drenched, on the suggestion of my impeccable waiter, in a delicious local lemon-infused olive oil. Lemons are big around here, apparently. For my main course, I ordered Linguini and lobster tail and finished off my meal with the most delicious piece of lemon cake I'd ever eaten. It was beautiful and shaped like a ball—a luscious lemon cake burrata. And it was fucking delicious. Meanwhile, I drank enough red wine to put me down for the count. Luckily, the only thing I had to navigate that evening was my way to the elevator.

Back in my room, I admired the view from my terrace until I couldn't keep my eyes open, then slipped into bed for a luscious deep sleep.

I'd need it for tomorrow's adventures.