Ahhh, Sorrento. Like many small cities in Italy, Sorrento is chuck full of churches and the accompanied pageantry. Every week has a saint’s day, but we hit the big one, the feast day of Saint Antinio. Parades galore with crucifixes and junk for sale in the streets.  It also has  more of those the narrow streets, cryptic signage, and local characters. I was on the phone with our host as we entered the city center. After a few tries at finding the parking lot where he was meeting us,  our GPS took us down an impossibly narrow one way street, and worst of all, right on to a crowded pedestrian boulevard the heart of the high-end retail district. The police (omg they came at us!) were helpful in navigating back to the peripheral road leading to the parking lot. There we met three men, including the apartment owner. What ensued next was beyond words. Hand motions, loud voices and our being directed to a large vacant lot behind a building where John was “guided” by 3 men yelling at him and motioning to back into this tiny space: a lone spot in the back of the huge empty lot full of spaces. There is a back story here for sure. Next, we are escorted with our bags in tow by two of the guys, the landlord and his buddy, who we paid cash for 7 nights of parking. The landlord also directs us to his other “dear “ friend where we had one of three truly horrible meals during our time in Europe. Furthermore, the landlord flirted with me via text all week, despite John’s presence. When I forgot my hat during our departure, I had to contact him to let me back in while John got the car. A big kiss! Yikes.

Day two: enter Brian and Joanne, fresh from their skiing adventure in the Italian Alps. Yay! The found a spot to stay literally around the narrow corner. Finding the landlord and entrance was another adventure. Their apartment was a space frozen in time, for the good and bad. Think charm with too much patina and maybe a ghost. The restaurant in between our apartments became our haunt.

SO much fun, including the craziest, worst drive of all on the narrow road on the Amalfi coast. Brian road shotgun and it was a good thing, because my cries of horror were not easy for the driver to take.  John did not imbibe on this trip, so we rewarded him at the end with an old fashioned aged Grappa at out spot, AKA gasoline in a glass.

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