It was raining when we left Positano and Capri looked less than inviting upon our arrival. There was an air of Mt Vesuvius, threatening not ash but thunder clouds and lightning...
I had booked us into a luxury villa (my hotel illusions never cease) but our first run-in with luxury was a rather cold jacuzzi, which we determined to brave in the rain until even our temporary madness failed us and we returned like drenched sea creatures. The hotel staff felt sorry for us (or worried about a stinging review) and brought us the one snack I had wanted to try on the island - zucchini flowers. I dove into them as though I hadn't eaten in a month. They were hot and filled with ricotta, spiced with a dusting of chilli...
Although we braved the rain outside, the gates to Gardini Augusto were closed and we wandered around the Via Camerelle near the Piazetta, marvelling at how decked out the cruise ship tourists were - all suit jacketed and heeled. Capri maintains her myth of exclusivity, but I wonder if Ischia would not have suited us better with her thermal baths more forgiving to our Positano-aching legs?
The next morning when we awoke, the sun was scorching again as though the rain had never been, and we embarked on a boat tour of the island. Unfortunately an unexpected wave ate Theresa's phone, which lent the caves and grottos a slightly morose tone. But we swam for a few seconds anyway before rocking nausea set in!
Later we explored Swedish physician Axe Munthe's ode to a Greek temple in San Michele, and after bidding farewell to the last of Capri's offerings (we only missed Buonocore's Gelateria) we found ourselves back in Napoli, very ready for our first and only pizza of the holiday. And where else for pizza in Naples? Well, probably anywhere, but Da Michele is the one made famous by Julia Roberts in Elizabeth Gilbert's 'Eat, Pray, Love'....
How divine!
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