A Little Bit of Me

Jottings and Writing, miscellanous misgivings

All Lucked Out

20160923_225955After the disaster at Barriers. I think we have lucked out. The photos will show the setting but we are on a private estate of about 10 acres with ‘ the big house’ , a large three storied Mediterrean house , and two smaller separate three room apartments, overlooking the Mediterranean and the port of Naples.
I shouldn’t be to harsh on Bari. We had three good days nut the stay was marred by the horrible accommodation and I developed shingles. Of all the time and all the places my Italian holiday would be the worst. Not a severe case (though Alison says its severe) but I had three days of real pain and sleepless nights and felt lousy for two days.
Still good to see the arse end of Barriera. The three hour bus ride from Bari to Naples showed a different side of Italy. More grapes, olives and some ,market gardens but also great tracs of ploughed land. Many mountain top villages shining orange and white through swirling mist as we wound up the mountains before descending into dismal slum areas on the outskirts of Naples of the sort I have only seen in films of the ghettos in South Africa. We had to catch a train from Naples to where we were staying at Ercolano . We were picked up by the owners son who is just finishing an Economics degree and when I talked to him about the slums and the poverty we had seen outside Bari he seemed either oblivious of it or preferred to point out the beautiful sights as we wound our way up to his gated property. I feel like John Key. Nah! Nothing to see here . Move on. Poverty. They are all immigrants, druggies, no-hopers. I must say I haven’t been hustled quite so much as at Naples centraile? Mind you some of the tourists on the packed train, on their way to see Vesuvius and the ruins we pretty hustely as well. In their haste to get tickets, get on and off the train, and accommodate other travellers.

Paulo (hostess husband) and Enrica took us down to the supermarket this morning in the trusty Alfa Romeo, leaving behind the Merc, mini cooper, other assorted fiats and alfas. Obviously a wealthy family and we learned through halting English and Italian that tbe house had originaaly been Pauols fathers and was handed down to Paulo on death. His two brothers and family occupy lower and top floors though I havent seen any of them apart from a couple of senoritas flitting about. They transported our groceries home while we went on to explore the local market and the remains of a fishing village that had been discovered by a man digging a well. When he told of discovering a large room everyone though he was trying to impress the ladies and it was years later the complete ruins were uncovered. An amazing site and I had interesting conversations with australian, english and american fellow travellers.
Then, more crap from Italy. We were to travel back to our hilltop hilton by local bus. Unfortunately the tabacchi where you buy tickets was closed from 2-4.30 pm, as are most business, especially in Southern Italy. We didn’t know this and waited until 3pm thinking surely a public service would not be so misguided to enforce such a rule. So we trudged 1.2 km to the railway station where we figured would be open as so many tourists travel by train to get off and see MT Vesuvius. Indeed, they were open but when I asked for a ticket on the autobus locale to via vesuvi (our street) the buffon said no no no around the corner (where tourist buss to the MT leave from. No amount of repetition would convince him I did not want to see the fucking mountain and I stormed out of the office much to the shocked surprise of people in the queue. Alison calmed me down and then a sproiket asked what had happened and assured us that the office did sell local bus tickets and pointed out where we should stand to catch nus no5. Back in, different man on the desk. Same result until eventually some gear clicked in his little brain and the tickets were produced. Seems like I should have been saying suburbana which would have turned on his lights. So we waited, and waited, and waited, and waited. Two hour’s later we saw the no5 going back the other way and were assured by a lady trying to catch the same us that it would make a circuit at the bottom of the hill and pick us all . She then grabbed a passing g cab. So we waited, waited, waited but no no5 appeared so eventually we stopped a passing cab and told the destination and asked the price. “€20” he replied and in my haste to het away from him I nearly knocked over an innocent gentleman who had double parked on the bus stop. Amid hilarious laughter from the other occupants of the shuttle taxi he lowered his price to €10 which did not seem so outrageous (later Enrica said that we got a really good deal and she had no idea why the nus didn’t front E she d8d admit it wad a little unreliable and that she herself her would not dream of using the bus service she would just take the Merc, Alfa, Mini, Fiat. ). Mmmppphhh!!!!

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