On assignment – Amalfi Coast


Last month, Write On The Water had me on assignment in Italy, checking out boating along the Amalfi Coast. (If you haven't noticed, Write on The Water is branching out in a big way with Christine heading to the Caribbean, Mike readying for the Bahamas, and Michael Haskins covering the island principality known as the Conch Republic. What, you question this? Coming from a fiction writer?)


Anyway, I was, in fact, in Italy where I took advantage of my language skills – I can count to ten in Italian, at least on occasion, and I can swear like a local courtesy of the fact that my brother-in-law grew up in Assisi (I paid close attention to the many compliments he directed at me over the years).


My skill as a Write on the Water foreign correspondent was in evidence our first night in the country. My wife and I landed in Rome and headed out for dinner that evening. I expect that I impressed our waiter with my casual use of words "vino" and "acqua." Or perhaps it was my keen culinary eye that zeroed in on pizza and prosciutto.


At some point during our meal my wife leaned toward me and asked about one of those phrases passed along years ago by my brother-in-law. For the life of me, I couldn't retrieve the words from my memory bank. Che…Che…I had it right on the tip of my tongue. Che…Che…then it occurred to me. "Che Palle!" I shouted. Heads turned. After all, blurting out "Such balls!" is a bit of a shocker regardless of where you are. My face was very rosso with embarrassment.


But I digress. This blog is about writing and boating so let's focus on the trip to the Amalfi Coast. We drove straight from Rome. While most people advise against driving in Rome, my brother-in-law, yes the same one, advised me that I would be all set as long as I had a GPS. And all set we were. That is until the GPS froze as we entered a half mile tunnel and missed our subterranean turn-off. But we soon found our way south, where I navigated the cliffside hairpin turns and switchbacks along the drive by Sorrento where I did my best to keep in mind that I was behind the wheel of a car and not at the joystick of an X-box. By sunset we were in our lovely hotel room at the Poseidon Inn along the steep incline of Positano.



Once there, off to the water I went, camera in hand, author's inquisitive mind engaged. And here's what I have to report. Double-ended fishing dories, powered by small outboards and a lanteen sail, lining the beaches. Oversized european go-fast runabouts tied to moorings. Wonderful center consoles designed to shuttle tourists to and from the Blue Grotto on Capri. RIB inflatables of all sizes for zipping folks all around.



And what does this suggest? First and foremost, it means you should head for the Amalfi Coast if you have the chance. Second, it's encouragement that we have potential overseas readers who share a life along the edge of the water. Third, it hints that my protagonist may one day find himself in Rome and he just might blurt out an unintended word or two of Italian.


But for now. Ciao.





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Published on November 08, 2011 21:01
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