"Holy Mary Mother of God!"
"Saint Christopher pah-lease protect us on our journey!"
"Dear Saint Anthony, please come around. This bus driver has lost his mind and it can't be found!"I got real religious real fast on our bus ride to the Amalfi Coast. The roads were so thin, curvy and crowded that I felt myself nearly upchucking my cheese and salami sandwich and renewing my vegan vows earlier than I had planned.
The bus was crowded and people were doing their best to stay balanced but I had a lot of boobies and armpits in my face. The driver didn't announce the stops and I had to rely on instinct, experience or faith—none of which I had.
But then came Mr. Hot Italian to show us the way.
He heard me say to Aine, "Where the hell is this friggin' town of Priano?"
"The stop after the tunnel, girls."
Prayers answered. Thanks Mary, St. Christopher, St. Anthony and Mr. Hot Italian.
Soon we were off the bus and lugging our bags up the hill to our hotel. It was all (nearly) worth it when we saw the incredible sea view from our room.
But before we took in the view, we needed an emergency beer from the wet bar to settle our nerves from the bus ride. After the beer, we went straight for a bottle of wine. Only then could we settle in on our balcony and looked out over the ocean.
We sat for a few hours on our balcony sipping wine and catching up on each others lives. We hadn't actually caught up in all our time in Rome. When we were in Rome, we were busy talking about Rome itself. But now, on our balcony overlooking the sea, the last thing we wanted to talk about was our most recent experience on the bus.
We spoke of Aine's job. I piped in with a few antidotes here and there. I became very aware of how much she talked about her work and how little I talked about mine. She loves running an English language school. Every time I thought of my job I had a mental block and a voice came into my head that said, "Alan's handling it." Alan's the guy covering my workload while I'm gone. Poor fella.
So I kept my day job at a distance in my mind. But my blog? I was smiling throughout my journey at little tidbits I could write in my posts. I'm amazed people still come around to read it. Who wants to read about my random rants? People do. Even me. At times I find myself in bed, under the covers with my iPhone aglow reading my latest post.
Really. I do. I'm a fan.
After the wine and chat, we walked up to the main road to play chicken with the buses and scooters. The road is so thin that you nearly have to jump in the bushes every time you hear a scooter coming. We found the best restaurant with the best zucchini flowers filled with the best most delicate yummiliciousness. We also had wine. Lots of wine.
We carefully walked back to our hotel waving and yelling ciao! or buona sera! to everyone along the way. I can just imagine what they were thinking. "Two drunk tourists. They must have come in on that dreadful bus."