The Waiter from Drama School

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We had a big day yesterday so we decide not to do too much today. We head off on a two kilometre or so hike towards towards Bagni della Regina Giovanna, which TripAdvisor claims is the number one place to visit here in Sorrento.

We stroll through town again along Via San Cesareo. There's limoncello oozing from every shopfront, and the whole place smells like lemons. I think someone might have slipped something into the soil - the lemons are more than twice the size of the ones back home - somewhere between a baseball and a soccer ball.

The views from the coast above Marina Grande back towards Sorrento are excellent. Eventually the footpath along the coast road, Via Capo, runs out and we’re left to share a busy lane with the traffic. The road‘s windy, the traffic‘s coming from behind us, and the drivers all appear to be mad. We try to cross so that we’ll at least see our killer before he (or maybe she?) mows us down, but the traffic‘s too heavy. This might be a good thing. At least this way we won't spend our final seconds in terror.

We reach the turnoff to Bagni della Regina Giovanna, and walk down the steep and crowded path towards the water. The main attraction here seems to be a small pool surrounded by steep cliffs on all sides, and fed by the sea surging in through a small opening through the rocks. It‘s windy today, so the surges are violent. We thought that we might have been able to go swimming, but neither us are particularly keen on ending it all today. It seems however that not everyone shares our concerns. We watch on as bathers are tossed around like they’re in a washing machine, and it seems only a matter of time before the whole pool turns red.

The path continues along a rickety wooden boardwalk over the rocks and under a large overhanging cliff supported by some giant steel columns. I hope the engineers who designed these things weren't at the pub on the day of the cliff overhang support design lecture. The boardwalk ends at a small cafe, where you can hire sunlounges and umbrellas and lie out on a deck. We can’t see too many of the umbrellas. The wind‘s stronger than ever, and if there were any here before I think they’re probably somewhere else by now. I wonder if they make you pay for your umbrella if you can't return it because it's ended up somewhere in Africa.

The scenery is moderately attractive, but there's no shade, no sand, and nowhere to swim unless you like being smashed against rocks. I know we've only been in Sorrento for a few days, and we haven't seen a lot yet, but I'm not quite sure how the reviewers at TripAdvisor decided that this was the number one thing to do here. I wonder if maybe they didn't see anything else. I look more closely at some of the comments. Descriptions include "hidden gem" and a "lovely private spot with perfect bathing". Some of them even talk about jumping into the pool from the clifftop, and swimming out into the sea through the opening in the rocks. I wonder who wrote these fantasies. You couldn't possibly survive if you tried to do any of these things, at least not today. One review notes that the queen of Naples swum in the pool with her lovers. It's not clear whether they mean she did this with them one at a time or all together, not that I’m too sure why I think this is important. I think I must be missing something about this place.

We start our walk back and renew acquaintances with the hazards of Via Capo. We have a close encounter with a motorbike on a blind corner. Issy says she could feel the heat from its engine, and I think one of the handle bars nearly peeled off my shirt.

We make a brief detour into Giardini Di Cataldo, a small laboratory where they turn their giant lemons into limoncello. After strolling through its lemon orchard I suspect we must now have whatever they put in the soil here all over our shoes. We make a mental note to remember to wash them thoroughly before the next time we go anywhere near an airport drug scanner.

We siesta, and then head back into town for dinner. Our waiter stands in front of our table and stares straight ahead for a few minutes before speaking. I hope he realises he’s not in drama class anymore. He looks like he might be about to launch into an aria. I order grilled squid in a potato sauce. He says that this dish is so beautiful that he cries whenever anyone orders it.

Issy launches into a second whiskey, and it starts to take effect. As we go to leave she stumbles off a small step next to the table, grabs the table cloth to stop herself from falling over, and sends everything on the table flying. We‘ve now attracted the attention of everyone here. I try to sneak us away before we‘re asked to pay for the breakages, but Issy‘s giggling too much to care.

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