Salerno 7/29 – 8/1

7/29

The boat ride from Positano to Salerno took about 90 minutes.  It was a lovely slow ride down the southern coast with a quick stop in Amalfi to unload and load passengers.  I chose to come to Salerno for two reasons – to visit the nearby Greek ruins of Paestum and because it will be easy to hop a train from here to get to Florence.  

Ciao Positano

Traveling south  

Amalfi

The port of Salerno 

I stayed at the Hotel Plaza – it wasn’t fancy but was clean, safe and in a good location. 

After I settled in, I caught up on the Olympics activities as I waited for the heat of the day to pass and then I took a stroll along the water front.

 

I stopped here for a late lunch/early dinner on the recommendation of the hotel. 

  

The special of the day was “white fish”.  What kind of fish is it?  White… White?  Si.  Ok.  The waiter asked where I was from, I told him America.  A few minutes later the owner comes to my table, introduces himself and tells me in broken English how he traveled to American when he was a boy.  He sat and we talked about New York, baseball, Chicago, American cooking and why they are called hot dogs when there are not made from dogs and hamburger when they are not made from ham.  I took on a real challenge when I tried to explain Scrapple and Spam.  He then brought me some complimentary bruschetta – incredible.  Here again they cut up small tomatoes for the top, rather than the big ones used in America.  The flavor is so powerful.  I don’t know if it is the freshness of the tomatoes, or if they are just magical Italy tomatoes but I have never tasted anything so good.  I don’t think my taste buds will never be the same after Italy.    Where ever I land in America, I have decided that from this moment on I will always have some kind of vegetable garden, even if it’s just a series of potted plants on a stoop or balcony.  Nothing beats the taste of freshness…

In my travels, either by train or bus, I can’t help but notice that every spare parcel of land is used for gardening.  It is mile after mile of grapevines, olive trees, fruit trees, vegetables and sunflowers.   Even on some on and off ramps of the highways.  Residence yards are not covered with grass; rather they are covered with vegetable gardens, grapevines, olive and fruit trees.  There are some flowers, but the majority of space is used to grow food.   What they can’t eat, they sell.  What they can’t sell, they share with their neighbors.  Their community is their family, whether they are actually related or not.  They are all connected and they take on the responsibility of taking care of one another.  Even as an outsider, you can feel the connection and I think that is what appeal to me most about Italy.  No matter where I am, if I make the smallest effort to be hospitable and respectful, I am immediately pulled in and made to feel like I am part of the family.  It seems to be the natural way of life here and it is beautiful.   

When I left the restaurant I walked around town to let the food digest and reflect on the wonderful conversation with the owner and his staff.  I had to promise to come back before he would let me leave, and I will as I must have another taste of that bruschetta.   

I have walked about a half mile along the busy city street; I witness a car and motor scooter accident.  I happened about 50 feet in front of me.  I watch as the girl passenger on the back of the scooter shoots straight up into the air, at least 10 feet, and lands in a heap on the road.   It looked like something out of a movie.  I was the first one to get to her and within seconds was joined by 20-30 more people.  Luckily neither she nor the scooter driver was seriously hurt, which was hard to believe after watching her take flight.  The driver of the car was so freaked out; he could barely stand and just kept apologizing.  The accident was the scooter fault, 100%.  They ran the stop light.  There is something weird over here in that scooters do not have to obey traffic laws. They weave in and out of traffic, go the wrong way on one-way streets and blow off stop signs and stop lights.  I don’t understand it, but that is the way it is. 

I have to stay around to talk to the police since I was a witness and as I was waiting a man began talking to me, in Italian of course, about the accident.  He came upon it a few minutes afterwards and wanted to know what happened. I explained I don’t speak much Italian and he speaks no English – but still he keeps talking to me in Italian.  (Why do people keep doing that?)  He was very kind and he could see that I was a little shook up so he took it upon himself to go and buy me a bottle of water.   After I was finished with the police, he took my hand and led me to the nearest café for coffee and a shot of limoncello.  He kept talking in Italian asking me questions, I explain the best I can that I am on vacation and just visiting Salerno on my way to Florence.   He then makes the sign for me to sit and wait and he leaves the café.  He pulls up a few minutes later on his motor scooter and holds out a helmet for me.  After the accident, and because he is a stranger and we have a communication problem, I am a bit leery.  He tells me it is OK and the air will be good for me.   The owner of the café tells me he is his friend and he is nice man, good man, no trouble.

The man, Roberto, hands me his driver’s license to show me who he is and I note that he is 64 years old.  (64? He looks good for 64, but 64?  Egads…) I ask where we are going, he points to the top of hill of town and says “panoramic view” and mimics taking a photo with a camera.  I look to the café owner; he nods his head and smiles and says “it ok.”  He also gives me a card for the café with the phone number on it and points to the cell phone in my pocket as if saying I can call him if I need him.  The owner’s daughter is also working at the café and she also says he is a good man and a good driver and all is OK.  So I say OK for a short ride and climb on the back of the scooter.   

He is a good driver.  He goes slow and obeys all the traffic laws which put me at ease and it is turns out to be a great ride.  He takes me to the top of the town and sure enough, there is a great view.

After the pictures, I turn to leave and he was on me like flies on honey.  Holy Milk of Magnesia!  I was able to fend him off easily enough as he was a nice man.  He was neither rough nor overpowering and backed off when I asked him to. But he did keep trying until I finally turned and started walking down the street intent on walking the five miles or so back to town if needed.  I’ve been walking for a few months now; I can handle a five miles hike.  He apologies profusely and insists he will drive me back to the café.  I hold up the business card and my phone and dial the number, showing him the whole time.  He holds up his hand to say stop, continues to apologies and points to the scooter.  So I get back on and he takes me back to the café.   Once there, the café owner came out and asked if all was OK, I told him yes but that Roberto kissed me and I didn’t like it.  The café owner spouted something at him as did the owners daughter and Roberto acted ashamed and embarrassed.  He apologized again and again and then asked if he could take me to dinner – I laughed and said no thank you and walked back to my hotel.

On my way back to the hotel, I met another Salerno man – this one was younger late 30’s, early 40’s.  We literally bumped into each other at an intersection.  He introduced himself, asked where I was from (America) and then asked if I would like to go for a coffee or for pizza.   He as a decent looking guy, a little scraggly but had a nice smile and pretty blue eyes.  I told him I don’t speak much Italian and asked if he spoke any English – Non, is ok.  I laughed and said ‘non grazie.’  He followed me for a block and asked again and again.  I stopped, looked at him and said:    

Me: Io non parla Italian e voi non parlo English, Si?  (I don’t speak Italian and you don’t speak English, yes?)

He:  Si

Me: Come parla?  (How speak?)

He: (winking his eye) Non parla.  (No speak)

Yea, he wasn’t that good looking…  I smiled, shook my head, thanked him again and said good night.  

      

7/30

I spent the day in Paestum seeing the Greek ruins; they are noted as being the best preserved ruins north of Sicily.  The town was founded in the sixth century B.C.  There is not much to it and it’s doesn’t have all the flash and flair of Pompei and by the looks of the non-crowd, it doesn’t seem to be very well known.   Which is fine by me, I am to the point where I prefer the non-touristy places.

Temple of Ceres – built in 500 B.C.

This is a Greek Memorial tomb.  (500 B.C.)

No bodies were found in it, Greeks buried their dead in tombs outside Paestum’s walls.  When this was found in 1952, inside they found nine perfectly preserved vases that they now keep in the nearby museum.  Here is a photo of one of them.

  That’s all I could take inside the museum before being told – NO PICTURES!

Do you see the lizard?   They are everywhere!

The Temple of Neptune, built 450 B.C.

The Temple of Hera, built 500 B.C.

What amazes me about these structures is that there is no plaster, no cement holding them together, no nails, no bolts, and no Crazy Glue.  They are just rock on top of rock and everyone is carved to fit perfectly with the next.  The thought that kept running through my head is that every single inch of stone was carved by human hands.  There was no Home Depot, no Craftsmen tool kit; it was all done by hand and with tools they made themselves.  I just kept staring at the joints, the tops and the bottoms of the columns, the stairs, the ceiling joints and wonder what happened to all of that knowledge?  How is it possible that these 2000 year old structures are still standing?   

Ekklesiasterion (yea, I can’t pronounce it either), was a meeting place.

I walked through museum as well and after I got “tsk’d” for taking the photo of the vase, I put my camera away until I came to the room of the Tomb of the Diver.  I had to take photos of this and waited until I was all alone to chance it.   It is the most precious find at Paestum and is the only Greek tomb fresco ever found in southern Italy.  The Greeks saw death as a passage and this represents diving from mortality into immortality.   The slab of the diver is the top of the tomb, the other for pictures are the four sides.

How it all fits together - 

Right after I took my last photo, my camera battery died.  Oh sure, the Greeks can make ruins that last for over 2000 years but my battery has to be recharged every few days. What up?  When will they (we) invent solar powered camera’s, cell phones and computers, or windup cameras, cell phones and computers?  When will they (we) invent technology that doesn't need to be dependent upon electricity to keep it alive and working?  I bet the 2000 year old Greeks would have a couple of good ideas about that.

After a great day of digging the ruins - - - - I hop a local train back to Salerno and wash the 2000 year old dust off of my dying sneakers. 

7/31

Salerno is a working town and the port here looks to be a cruise ship mechanics office.  There is some fishing but mostly the boats here are for the tourist to use to get to the other stops on the coast like Amalfi, Positano, Capri, etc.  So on my last full day, I took to walking the streets to see what I could see.

50 euros for a tiny shirt – I think that is a rip off… 

I ended up back at Pinocchio’s for dinner and ended my stay with another great night of talking with the owner, his staff and his family.  Tonight though, no white fish, he recommended the steak.   And if there is one thing that I have learned from this trip, it is to always go with the owner’s recommendation…   Yummy.

If you are into Greek ruins and are spending time on the Amalfi coast, I highly recommend coming this way on your travels.  Salerno is the nearest bus and train hub, so you would need to travel there first.  It would be an ok place to spend the night, but it’s got nothing on Positano for night life. 

Next stop – Florence

Ciao ~