women who talk a lot and other local insights

view from Marine Club

Amalfi

beautiful Amalfi coast even on  a bad day

Positano

another view

planning my next hike

these caves used to used to hide contraband cigarettes, I climbed hill in background!

tomorrow's destination

Capri swimming spot

It is my last day on the Amalfi Coast.

This afternoon I will take a bus to Rome and tomorrow I will fly to Athens and then visit Meteora and Delphi before flying to Rhodes for a few days.

It has been great coming back to Sorrento. This time I have seen a different side of her. Although I have revisited many of the beautiful places I remember, I have mainly spent my time here hiking through the area, doing a number of “sentieri” and chatting to locals.

According to Ciro, a local bus driver I am a loose woman.

During the hour long ride which began with

Me: Where are you going?

Ciro: Wherever you want to!

Ciro gave freely of his insights and wisdom and shared his “research” with me.

He is an amiable complex fellow. Thirty five years old, married, with a 5 year old girl and another daughter on the way, he is friendly and courteous to all the passengers he picks up and prefaces most comments with “Of course I am not judging but…”

He lives in a seaside town nearby, which is not as pretty, clean or safe as the one we are driving through (he openly tells me the Camorra –a mafia type criminal organisation-is active there) but he is fiercely proud and says the people there are full of heart (pointing to his chest) whereas the Sorrentines “their heart is full of stone”. The problem with the Sorrentines, he confides “of course I am not judging” is that they have too much money and they are too greedy, just interested in making the most money from the tourists.

He tells me he is driving through Sorrento recently and he passes an old man who collapses on the street. No one stops to help the old man, so Ciro stops the bus, even though he is not from Sorrento, and renders assistance. “Not to big note myself”, he says, “but the Sorrentines, would just have let the old man die”.

Ciro is full of interesting information.

He tells me that he speaks to many people on his bus, locals, foreign workers and tourists and he uses his research to work out what the world will be like when his daughters grow up, so he can keep them safe.

He tells me that sex is a big part of life in the South. That foreign workers offer him oral sex for the cost of a bus ride, that 80 year old men hand over their pensions to their young “helpers” for a look or feel each night, that frustrated and lonely wives of local men employed in the maritime industry have affairs, that young local women are sex mad after years of repression and that female tourists who engage in conversation and “talk a lot” are considered easy!

I ask him if the fact that I am talking to him puts me in that category.

‘oh no”, he says, “You are intelligent too!”

Pina, overhears me asking for directions on a bus and kindly offers to show me the way as I am getting off at her stop.

She looks tired and worn out, and much older than her 45 years. Despite being a good student and wanting to go to University her father wouldn’t allow her to. Without any real formal education she has been limited to doing domestic work for others and many years of this work have taken their toll on her. She feels life has passed her by.

“Ormai e’ troppo tardi per me” she says sadly “now it’s too late for me”, but she says that things have changed a lot since she was young and women today have many more choices and freedoms than she had.

A family friend is the Captain of a boat that cruises the Amalfi Coast. As the tourist season has started and the boat works every day, the only way I can see him is to spend the day aboard the boat. Franco’s face is weather beaten and his blue eyes are a little less alive than when I saw him last. The owner of the boat (a mentor and father figure to him) has died and things have changed since his son took over. Franco loves the sea, his boat and his crew. They are like family. After decades working on this boat he is ready to leave and perhaps captain a smaller pleasure craft for three month Mediterranean cruises, but paternal concern for “his” crew stops him.

“Nine families rely on the income from this boat. It is not a well paid job as it is, and most have to do other work as well. (Carlo earns 50 euro transporting dead people to the funeral home out of hours) That’s as much as he earns in a whole day on the boat. This work is seasonal.  I try to hire the guys a bit earlier and keep them a bit later, but it’s still tough for them. If I leave their security is gone” he tells me.

Sarena is a “badante” a helper from the Ukraine. The lady she used to look after died, and she now works long hours each day in a hotel kitchen, to support her son, daughter in law and granddaughter who depend on her income. The money she earns (about 600 euro  a month) is more than 3 times what a doctor would earn in the Ukraine, yet is about half of the 1200-1500 euro which is an average wage in Italy.

Talking to each of the people above and to all of the other locals and tourists that I have met has helped to make this a rich and enjoyable experience. I hope I can return to Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast again one day, but in the meantime I have lots of good memories to sustain me.

As I say farewell to Sorrento, I also say goodbye to Garry, a school friend who died and whose funeral was held in Perth this week. I have a memory of a summer day about 35 years ago. Someone’s backyard in Mt Lawley,  a hills hoist, music playing and a freckle faced teenager, in board shorts and a surf shirt who’d had a bit too much to drink surfing imaginary waves, with a huge happy grin on his face!

Rest in peace, Garry. I’m glad you got to know just how much you were loved.

A presto

Mon x