Capri... pants, lemons, funerals...

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Back to Capri...

Capri's buildings and harbour look similar to Amalfi... the sea is dark blue, deep green, the colour of lemonade closer to shore... We take a cable car up behind the harbour to the town of Capri, past lemon trees and bright flowers. We can see far beyond the houses, past the cliff, to the sea. It goes far, far into the distance. I cannot wait to dive in!

The town of Capri envelops us as soon as we step up the stairs from the cable car - wildly expensive clothing shops, gelato in mounds behind glass (double the price if you sit while you eat it), layers of handmade leather shoes hanging from nails on the sides of shops, limoncello and lemony-lemon gifts spill onto the street from so many boutiques, scarves, sarongs and "Ciao Bella - Capri" t-shirts in pink, blue, black, green, hang from racks on the cobblestone... It is filled with tourists, buses, radiant, hot sun... The palm trees and flowers are beautiful, colouring walls, railings, gardens... It is Italy at its brightest, freshest, cleanest.

I could not help but buy some gelato (fragola and torte caprese) and join Janelle and Neal under umbrellas at tables overlooking the cliffs down to the sea. They bought fresh lemon ice and sipped it in the shade (oh, it's good! I had big, satisfying sips of theirs!) We people-watched and soaked up the shade. Moment by moment we decide our pace and go whichever direction we feel - it's so freeing and I feel relaxed and at ease. It's strange to think that no one I know (that I know of) has been to these places. I feel certain that I will return (how could I live my life and not??) and so do not feel the panic of remembering every detail. I am able to relax and enjoy our moment by moment decisions.

Before heading back to the harbour, we decide to explore the town's charming church. The door is open and we enter into darkness. As in all the churches, I am amazed at the detail, the elaborate carvings, statues, woodwork, columns... we silently explore. There are a few people in the church, sitting quietly in the pews, and flowers decorating the altar. The people in the pews - all women, I think - stand. We sense something is happening, look at each other, and without speaking, and head for the door. As I step from the darkness back into the light I am met by a large wooden box. A coffin, being carried by six men, into the church. I cannot go forward and must back into the church. I wait by the door with my head down as the coffin is carried in, and as it is followed by people, dozens of people - perhaps, weeping. Each of them looks at me as they enter the church, wondering how I know the deceased, or what I am doing standing at the door, or why I am dressed so casually for a funeral. It's dreadful. Finally, we are out in the sun and are able to give the mourners privacy.

We head for the cable car... and the beach. We find a spot on the chaotic, rocky beach and take turns in the water. Ok, well the truth is I never have to take a turn on the beach and spend the entire time in the water! Neal and Janelle are too kind and offer to watch my things as I luxuriate in the water for ages. We have conversations treading in the water. It's hard to believe I am in my (foxy) new bathing suit, in the ocean, in Italy. The water is cooler than the air, but warm like... dish water :-) I can see the rocky sand and the boulders bulging up from the bottom, a few dark, small fish, but mainly the greenish-lemon water...light close to me, dark far away. There are people everywhere - leaping from the precipice that dips over the water, plunging into the water after plastic blow-up balls, dipping babies' feet into the water, sunning, eyes closed, bathing suit straps down, waiting in line for the pay toilet, picking their way painfully over the rocky beach. We stay the rest of the afternoon and it is wonderful!

For the trip back to Sorrento, we've been able to secure seats on an open deck boat. We are thrilled to find seats on the end, cameras ready to collect evidence, hair ready to be wind-blown. I have three seats to myself at first, but end up sitting next to a boy and his mother. As I'm turned back talking to Janelle, the woman stands at the deck right in front of me...she is leaning over, arms spread out, sunglasses on... and practically sitting on my lap. At first I giggle, looking back at Janelle, not quite knowing what to do. Then I ask the woman to move so I can take pictures (this is against everything I want - I don't want to be pushy, rude, abrasive). She moves, waits, and then goes back to her comfortable position - completely in my space, my knees knocking against her legs. Looking out, all I can see is... this woman. I ask two more times for her to please move, and her reply is, "You don't own the boat!" She is pushy, rude, abrasive. It is both frustrating and hilarious. Mostly, though, I am disappointed to miss the view. Neal and Janelle are so sweet and finally I am able to laugh about it after we have docked and walk up the steep road to the town square. We see the woman, and her son too, walking up the same road past us. She leans to him and says (I think), "Walk."

More soon...

Still in Quesnel (night #3) but my car should be ready tomorrow... The food is not as good as Italy, but the sunsets rock.

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