The only way is up!

Marina Grande Fishermens cove

Public garden Sorrento

distributing daily catch

climbing up the hill

private gardens of Settimo Cielo hotel

even lost in the olive groves, the view is good

the walk down to Puolo

view from my qigong spot

Puolo, quiet little fishing cove

caught up on the news, first newspaper in two weeks

start of sentiero to St Agatha...station of the cross marks the way

last station of the cross, but nowhere near my destination

start of the climb

past lemon groves

the farmer who put me back on track

view further up

only the occasional local passes

keep going up! only 15 minutes to go

still 30 minutes to go!

Sorrento seems a long way away...

workers; club Sorrento city centre

happy for tourists to enter and take photos of their frescoes

each wall is a masterpiece

less known masters available on the sidewalk

lots of small streets to explore

art everywhere

one of the many 5 star hotels

another right next door

6^th May 2011

…the body is of a well nourished 52 year old woman. It is difficult to ascertain the exact cause of death but there is no evidence of trauma…

To be honest, this phrase came to mind the other day as I was climbing up to the Path of the Gods. I was reminded of it today when I did another “sentiero” here in Sorrento. Predictably I got lost and had to retrace my steps. In the process I climbed for hours up a really steep hill, my heart pounding so hard I thought I would keel over, but the views were worth the effort.  I am absolutely exhausted but I had an amazing day!

It actually started as a “trip through time” retracing my steps through the many memories I have of Sorrento. From the fishermen’s cove (Marina Grande) where I have spent time before, I watch the weather beaten men distribute their catch, then take a path that passes “Paradise Hotel which I think will take me up to the roadway. Instead I end up climbing a series of steps, that end up in the basement of Il Settimo Cielo (7^th Heaven) hotel-don’t you just love the names? where I pretend that I am a hotel guest, so I can take the lift to the top of the hill.

From there, I decide to go to the “free” beach that I discovered when I was 17. I am so excited when I find the cobblestone path that also leads to some Roman ruins overlooking the water. It’s a long walk down but it’s early and there’s no one around. Lining the path on either side are high rock walls that shield the properties they protect. As the path continues to wind down and become narrower, the effect is slightly disconcerting, much like the Medinas of Morocco, you can’t see what is ahead or behind you.

As I round a corner some rusty old gates are wide open. The place looks abandoned, perhaps an old villa, and I venture in cautiously along some car tracks, past waist-high weeds, as I need to pee.

I haven’t gone far, but when I turn, I can’t see the exit and suddenly I feel a strange sense of danger in the pit of my stomach and the hairs on the back of my head stand up. It’s very rare that I have this sensation, but the few times that I do, I usually trust my instincts. This time, my bladder overrides my amygdala (the brain’s kind of fire alarm that senses emotional and physical danger), and I tell myself that I am overreacting, but the whole time I am crouching to pee, I am feeling vulnerable. It is only later when I stand on top of the Roman ruins and I have been doing Qigong for a while that my heart stops pounding.

Thankfully nothing “bad” eventuates, but I decide to be alert for the rest of the day.

When I find “my” beach, it is disappointing. No longer “free”, a Lido (paid area where you can hire umbrellas, chairs etc) has been constructed and although it is not open yet, I know that it will soon be crowded and not at all like the place that I used to come to.

I decide not to go back past the place with creepy energy and ignore the “Danger! It is prohibited to climb up the cliff face” sign and am soon standing in an olive grove, surrounded by high fences with no obvious way of being able to get over them! 

It takes me about an hour to find a fence that I can scale and eventually I stumble into Relais Regina Giovanni www.relaisreginagiovanni.it a secluded  “Agriturismo” in the Sorrentine hills. I am relieved to have found civilisation, and the friendly manager who tells me about a lovely fishing village nearby. I decide to make it my next destination.

It’s a long way down to Marina Puolo, and I try not to think about the fact that I will have to climb back up again eventually! Once on the small beach, I talk to some old fishermen and find out the best place to eat fresh fish. For the first time in weeks, I read the newspaper and eat a delicious “frittura” of small local fish” with a lettuce and tomato salad, dressed with local olive oil and lemon.

There is a trek nearby that I want to do and I speak to the owner of the trattoria about the best way to get there. He kindly gives me directions and I wave my “boys” goodbye, thinking it’s about time that I attracted some younger men into my life.

As if on cue, I meet Giorgio at the bus stop on top of the hill. He is about my age, tall, fit and handsome. He has two kids, and an ex wife and has been drifting for a couple of years, but he felt like a kindred spirit at least he is in the right age group!

He accompanies me to the start of the trek, which is a bit tricky to find, and I head off up the hill towards St Agatha. His directions match the ones I was given by the restaurant owner. “Vai sempre in su”, keep going up!

Within minutes I come to a fork in the road and they BOTH GO UP, but no signs as to which one goes to St Agatha! I take the one on the right and after about 20 minutes a young boy comes past on a scooter so I ask him if I am on the right track. He looks uncertain and then tells me I have to go back because the path I am on terminates.

Back on the “right” path, I begin to worry when I end up in someone’s garage with no way of going forward!

I call out and a young woman tells me I am “a very long way away” from the track and I must take the road that keeps going up! As I head back the way I came, a farmer walks past and I ask him if I am on the right track. He tells me it is a very long way to the track and looks worried. He gives me a long list of complicated instructions and I struggle to remember beyond “don’t take the first road that kind of veers left, but the second…”

A few minutes later, I hear a motorino and he has come to “show me the way”. I am so grateful as I was already lost!

He deposits me at a road nowhere near where I was told and says ..”vai sempre su” keep going up! As I start climbing what is obviously a local access road I wonder how much further I have to go.

It seems like I am climbing forever and I am getting tired. Only a few small cars with locals pass me and I have the whole path to myself. Eventually, a dog starts barking furiously and his owner comes out to see what has upset him so much. I ask the old man how much further to St Agatha and he looks worried, but says “keep going up” about 15 minutes. I am heartened by this news and figure maybe it will be less (he’s an old man after all!) No such luck, as the next person I ask (about 30 minutes later!) says it is still a very long way away!

When I finally do get to St Agatha and look behind me, the view is wonderful, my body feels alive and the sense of achievement makes it all worthwhile.

Later, after a hot shower and glass of wine, I chat with Nino and his friend Vittorio who is a shipbuilder. I have met Vittorio once before and we did not get on. He is brusque, arrogant and opinionated and we are soon locked into an impossible battle of egos.

The end of the story is not pretty.

I am furious at what I perceive to be Vittorio’s continuous rudeness and ignorance, and after one last insult from him I storm out of the room (to be honest I think it’s a good thing I did as I wanted to throw something at him!)  I become aware of just how much the interaction has affected me physically, (My heart is beating really fast, my muscles are tense, and my head hurts) emotionally, (I feel rage, disgust, impotence, hurt) mentally (What I thought was not very ladylike!) and spiritually (I felt disconnected-from my true nature, from my core values, from other people and certainly from Vittorio) It takes quite a few minutes for me to regain equilibrium and when I reflect on how easily I have lost my cool, I realise that although there is no doubt that Vittorio is an uncouth bore, my reaction was very “hot” and some of that heat had nothing to do with him. When Vittorio spoke, I was reliving other times in the past when I have had to “stand up for myself” or “prove” myself because I was “too young” or “a woman” or “not experienced enough”.

So although we will never be friends, I am grateful to Vittorio.

I wonder whether perhaps the danger I sensed earlier in the day was a kind of premonition of the “attack” I would later feel (and the negative reaction and energy it would evoke in me), and although I did not handle it as well as I would have liked, I did recover from it with minimal scarring. Not sure about Vittorio!

A presto

Mon x