Month: April 2002

May 30 – April 2: In contrast to our previous trips to Rome, I don’t have that much to report about the four days that ended our Italy trip…probably because I was sick for two of them.

We arrived around 2:30 pm Saturday afternoon and checked into the hotel. (Aside: If you can save the money to go there, the Hotel De La Ville Intercontinental in Rome is a decent place to stay—atop and to the side of the Spanish Steps, five star service…<sigh>.) We grabbed a late lunch at a trattoria around the corner from the hotel. I was tired out from driving and flopped while Lisa took her parents in the direction of Trastevere. She woke me up later to go down to the Piazza Navona with her and grab a glass of wine at our favorite enoteca/café.

Sunday we went to Santa Maria di Trastevere, a thirteenth century church that’s pretty distant from the crowd at the Vatican. After we went to lunch at Romolo, built in a fifteenth century palazzo (with a walled garden) that was the home of Raphael’s mistress. Afterwards I started feeling unwell. Thinking it was heatstroke, I walked home ahead of the family. And then it started. At one point my distress was so bad I was shaking (though not with fever). By Monday I was some better but still had to spend the day in bed. Tuesday morning we flew back. So all I really saw of Rome was a little bit of Trastevere, the Piazza Navona, and the inside of our five-star bathroom.

The fifth in a series of transcriptions of my experiences traveling with my wife and her family in Italy. The originals were scribbled on whatever pieces of paper were handy and are presented here unedited.

29 Mar 2002: Lisa’s dad has decided to take the day off; he will remain behind in Positano while we take the boat to Capri. A wise choice, it turns out, given the amount of wind and rough water we face in the next hour.

Capri is as beautiful as I remember it, though colder. We start in the town of Anacapri, which is smaller than the main town, tourists everywhere, fewer stores. A poster on the wall of a store shows an unusual lion and a little less high-brow style than is normal on the other side of the island.

The other side of the island: expensive pottery, good food, limoncello. Sitting in a café it occurs to me that I enjoyed the island more when I was able to hike around it on the previous visit and get away from the pottery, food, limoncello, and cafés.

That night in Positano, we try to go to a restaurant I remember on the cliff path above the town. But our early dinner plans don’t fit the Positano lifestyle and we return to La Cambusa. The food is still excellent… and the staff seem actually happy to see us.

The fifth in a series of transcriptions of my experiences traveling with my wife and her family in Italy. The originals were scribbled on whatever pieces of paper were handy and are presented here unedited.

28 Mar 2002: We breakfast leisurely and catch 10 a.m. boat to Amalfi. Fall into tour of the Duomo—fascinating, as the church is a palimpsest of 10th through 19th century with frescoes over frescoes, baroque over medieval, plaster and wood colonnades over original Roman and Moorish columns.

Window shopping, disappointing lunch, more shopping, gelato, and return to Positano. Dinner (2) at La Cambusa. Highlights—complimentary prosecco and antipasti, delicate seafood risotto, grilled anchovies, complimentary local provolone. Gelato after.

The fourth in a series of transcriptions of my experiences traveling with my wife and her family in Italy. The originals were scribbled on whatever pieces of paper were handy and are presented here unedited.

27 Mar 2002: Spend 1.5 hours lost but find Fiano Country—Feudi di San Gregorio. Very under construction. Big facility. Tour from very patient guide Cinsia includes Feudi’s olive oil production, the lab, and a 40 min discussion of the processes with head oenologist Massimo. Taste: Falenghina, Greco, Fiano, and top of line Taurasi.—Drive down toward Naples. Lunch at self serve place in Pompei. We take Lisa’s parents through—most impressive is Villa dei Misteri with frescoes of the initiation rites for the Dionysiac Mysteries. Leave. One wrong turn later, find road for Positano behind a series of buses. Dinner (1) at La Cambusa—very enthusiastically received. Bed.

The third in a series of transcriptions of my experiences traveling with my wife and her family in Italy. The originals were scribbled on whatever pieces of paper were handy and are presented here unedited.

26 Mar 2002: Directions from a resident businessman to Calitri—to make up for inadequate signage, he sends us an hour out of our way north, then down through lots of hill towns—and wheat fields—and wind farms. Half an hour after a declaration from il mio suocero that one would have to be crazy to live here, that he understands why his parents left, and that as far as he was concerned they could have it (occasioning a response from mom: “stop being such a nutty old coot!”)—we find Calitri. The Hotel Ambasciatore desk clerk Ten-Su (!) tells us that the Calitri Lucadamos had tried to find us the previous night.

We go to the records office at the Comune and discover that they have no information about the predecessors of the emigrating Lucadamo, Angelo Maria, except the names of his parents, Carmine and Teresa Schiavone. It is decided that the birth date we have for Teresa S is incorrect—she could not possibly have had Angelo M when she was 49.

We meet the young Cinzia L. who runs the town biberia—she is charming and friendly and calls the family to let them know we have arrived. Later as we discover the hotel has no heat we decide to return to Avellino. Just then all the relations show up. We spend two hours conversing in Italian to discover that there are one or two Carmine and Angelo Lucadamos in each generation for as long as anyone can remember, so finding ours will be nearly impossible—and take our leave after Cinzia gifts us with a ton of wine. We take the road back in the direction of Lione, solving the question of how to get back without a very long journey. Dinner at a trattoria—very good pasta.