We were up at five, the usual for me, somewhat reluctantly for Gail. We have train to catch in Salerno, five hours straight across Italy from the Mediterranean to the Adriatic. To make the train we needed to catch the 7:15 SITA bus in Amalfi, which brings us back around to the five o'clock waking time, so we could walk up to the bus stop and catch the early run to Amalfi.
Positano is beautiful in the early morning light; walking the road up to the bus stop affords us views out over the village and ocean.
Perhaps we will return, we wonder. Perhaps only "...due, tre ano..." this time, we told our hostess.
The bus ride along the too narrow road clinging to the cliffs is just pure entertainment. How these drivers avoid hitting the sides, other cars, or even the busses coming the opposite direction is a real, honest to god miracle. If it takes just two certified, witnessed miracles to become a catholic saint, then there are a bunch of totally over-qualified saints working daily along the Sorrento to Salerno run.
At times the road almost corkscrews all the way back on itself, at times I am looking straight down at the ocean. In spots where the road is wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other, they are busy with barriers and cones, de-constructing the “wide” parts back down to a land and a half.
We made the Amalfi connection and had time to slam a cappuccino before heading to Salerno. The bus was actually a little early, so after buying our tickets to Bari (€36) we had time to sit in a café for another coffee and roll.
Salerno is not a pretty town, it is obviously a working port city, but it does have a little charm and character. And, it is not so crowded as Napoli.
Mostly though: it is not Napoli.
The train is a regional, stopping here and there as we cut across. Potenza is the first big city we come to, a greener, smaller city in the hills. Once we rolled out of Salerno it was mostly rolling hills, farms and olive orchards backed by low mountains. At one point we cut right through the mountains, criss-crossing, then following a narrow canyon maybe a hundred or two feet deep. We crossed over the river flowing between the white rock walls, then we tunneled through those very walls.
The train is comfortable, smooth, quiet except for on little yelling kid (now asleep thank god) and two teens listening to Death Cab For Cutie on their phone up a couple rows. The gentle rocking puts Gail right to sleep. She naps as I stare out the big window, writing. We have the rest of the bottle of last nights wine, water, and a little food, so we are set for this three and a half hour section of the trip.
I love train travel.
Except... Now the brat is awake, thick tongued with a deep voice he continually grunts, snapping the ash tray lid down over and over. SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
Everyone looks annoyed, the guy across from him looks like he has a headache. He rolls his eyes at me, but I am safe here, two rows up.
Grassano is the next stop, then back into the hills. There are wind turbines scattered here and there, and the occasional village on a hilltop, usually with castle remains and a church.
Next stop is Ferrandina. Then we are in the flatlands as we stop at Meteponto, the last stop before Taranto, where we make our connection to Bari. That part of the trip is an hour and a half.
Around 11:30 we broke out the Chianti Classico, and I can tell you know that it pairs wonderfully with cheese puffs! I think Chianti must be the best, all-purpose food wine in Italy.
Cheese puffs.
Awesome.
Past noon, out the window, SURPRISE! it's the ocean?!?
I need to like look at a map and see where we are traveling. I know where we are going, but where are we now? As near as I can guess, in the "arch" of the boot. If that's true, we are making a "V" to go across Italy.
So we got to Taranto. We had 45 minutes layover time, so we just set out on foot for a quick walk about. Taranto is obviously a port town, the bus station is close to the train station, which is pretty small with only one sheet of arrivals and one of departures, one ticket window and seven tracks.
We walked out what appeared to be the Main Street, lined with palm trees. If this sounds romantic and beautiful, wake up quick! It was also lined with grubby buildings and a fair amount of trash. We could see an older church, and a bridge over a river? We headed that way, and up on the bridge it became apparent that we were on a sort of peninsula, and that across the first bridge is the old town area, on an island in the bay. That makes sense; easily defendable.
We looked at the boats, the fishermen gutting the fresh anchovies (one every three seconds), the guy riding a scooter in shorts only, with a one year old baby sitting in his lap holding onto the handle for dear life. A baby. In diaper. No helmet.
It seems like a normal sort of run down working port city. It does not look like a vacation destination.
Just sayin.
Turns out it is on the Ionian Sea. Huh. New place for me.
And, not to sound stupid, but Positano is technically NOT on the Mediterranean Sea at all. It is on the little part called the Tyrrhenian Sea.
Who.
Knew?
Right at 13:45 we headed up the other side of the "V" to Bari, an hour and a half by regional train. No seat reservation, many stops, not much speed. These are the trains we'll be taking most of the time now as we hop, small town to small town.
Back inland, yet in sight of the ocean, there are small hills, marble quarries, olive groves and vineyards. Some of the rows of vines are already under bird netting, others are covered in plastic sheeting. Huh. The towns are not cute, they are more blocky and concrete-industrial looking.
Flat again, here a modern combine is harvesting the wheat, but dumping it into a horse-drawn cart. Grape vines, trained up high in thick posts, to make a natural roof. You must harvest by walking underneath, reaching up to pick the hanging fruit. I can imagine the shoulder fatigue, and they must prune from ladders.
I practice my Italian. I listen in on conversations around me, mostly too fast, but I pick up words and phrases here and there. I listen to the train announcement, try to interpret it before the English version is given. Soon, we won't have the luxury.
Comé si arrivé. How do I get to?
Duvey pwosso kamprahrary billietti per Alberobello? Where can I buy tickets to Alberobello?
That's a hard name to say.
One of my favorites is "pleased to meet you." You say "ah pee a cherry." Like a Southerner, with a drawl.
Ouch!
I finished my book, finally. Chapters left in Rome, Sant' Angleo, Positano, two on the Salerno to Taranto run, one on the train to Bari.
It was a tough read at times. The worst chapters I just trashed.
Half an hour out from Bari we were jolted out of our restful stupor when the train hit something. Something hard and metal, that clattered along the undercarriage of the train car, kind of like when you hit a stick on the road and it smacks the floorboard of the car. Our car got smoke in it, kind of the smell of burned rubber. About two minutes later the train stopped at the next station, everybody looked out the doors and sure enough there was a light smoke in the air.
The engineer and conductors walked the length of the train, then shooed everyone back in, and we set out again. Eventually he conductor came along and unlocked a few windows to air things out.
We got off in Bari, walked through the station to a different set of tracks, to the privately held Ferrovie Sud-Est line. We bought two tickets at €4,90 and the train showed up.
It is a little, red, four car train with no air conditioning, which is unfortunate if you sit on the sunny side of the train.
So I stood on the shady side until some seats opened up, which we grabbed. Most everybody got off at the third and fourth stop, so the second half of the trip we had most the train to ourselves.
I took some time to look at the map. It's crazy, the route we are taking today to get to this little town. We dropped south to the instep, went back north to the coast, and now we are heading south inland a little, almost as if we are heading back to Taranto.
Well, it's all great fun.
We made it to Alberobello by 16:00, gave our hosts a call, and soon Mina appeared in a little Fiat to take us to our house.