Breezing Back Through Positano

Soon, we were landing back at Positano’s own Marina Grande.

The girls wanted to shop. They had spied several enticing boutiques on the morning walk down, but we had been focused on getting to Capri, rather than shopping.  Now they could.

But first, an icy cocktail at Buca di Bacco.

Mmmmm...I'm thirsty!

These two California girls somehow inherently knew that it is common practice for Italians to have an early evening apertif (aperitivo) and appetizers (stuzzichini).

The two bartenders vie for the attention of Nichole and Allie

After refreshments, the girls got right to their shopping.

Do NOT let Gino see these! If you have read my blogs from previous trips, you may recall that my husband has a fetish for ceramic plates like these.

A t-shirt would be much easier to pack home
(although not nearly as exciting)

Anyone up for a gelato after all that shopping?

Shopping is a holy endeavor, at least in Positano

As we meandered back up the wide pathway through the commercial part of Positano, we saw fireworks erupting near the church of Santa Maria Assunta and veered over to find out what was being celebrated.

The doors to the church had been thrown wide open, and several people were milling around just outside. The pealing of bells rang through the air, and all of a sudden a procession of robe-clad boys emerged, carrying staffs.

Making a wide circle through the small piazza, they re-entered into an adjacent door, followed by priests and men carrying a large statue of the Madonna. I love that in Italia, there is always some celebration in progress.

It was time to make our way back to the bus stop. On the way, we spotted a few interesting signs.

Hotel California!

Since our espresso maker at home is dubbed Bruno,
we couldn’t resist this photo

At the top of the hill, while waiting for the “Jerico” to take us back to Praiano, we amused ourselves by watching motor-scooters careen around the corner, rarely bothering to stop at the stop sign. Morbidly fascinated, we held our collective breath against a potential crash, but trusting that none would occur. Luckily none did.

It was a pretty place to wait for a bus.

Chris claimed he saw a blind man driving a scooter. The man had been wearing large sunglasses and carrying a stick like the blind use. The man had tapped the ground with his stick as he drove the scooter along. “Didn’t anyone else see this?” Chris asked, hoping for concurrence.

Chris swears he really saw
the blind motorcyclist!

A blind scooter driver? Actually, I wouldn’t doubt it — this was Italia, where anything can happen.

The Jerico was full. Tired but happy, we clung to the overhead railing as we rumbled back to Praiano. It had been a great day.


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