Nocelle - The Sounds of Silence.

Are you sick of the cold ? Let me heat you up a touch.

It's high summer. I decide to go for a late afternoon trip to the village of Nocelle in the mountains above Positano, to catch the last rays of sun long after Positano sits in the shade.

The bus from Positano to Nocelle quickly fills with sticky bodies scantily clad in after-beach wear and after the main Mulini bus stop it is impossible to fit anyone else on. The bus driver begs anyone not going as far as Montepertuso to wait for the next bus, but very few people condescend to his requests.

It sets off immediately, winding along the sinewy bends, windows thrown open to let a minimum of fresh air in.

A Spanish couple standing crushed above my seat ask if the bus is stopping at Montepertuso in broken Italian. They want to dine at Donna Rosa where Jamie Oliver gave rave reviews. I'm sitting on the mountain side as the curves sweep past, and cannot tell how far we've gone as the mass of people in the bus block my view. It's hard to tell how far up the mountain you are just by looking at the battered cars sitting snugly in their roadside spot against the cliff. Some have been there a long time, the fact that they are covered in brambles a testimony.

Positano nestled in the shade

Finally we arrive at the bifurcation at Montepertuso which I was looking for, and I tell the Spanish couple to get off. Fortunately more than three quarters of the passengers gets off with them and we are less than a dozen to continue on to Nocelle.

Many years ago, my first excursion to Nocelle was in September. We had caught the bus to Montepertuso but for the rest of the way we had had to walk as the road didn't yet reach the tiny mountain town. I had gone with my then -to -be -husband on the romantic path above the mountain gorge.

I remember the welcome we had got at the village on our arrival, as many recognized him and the fritatta con cipolle which we had had at the only trattoria in the place with an incredible view. 'Bellonia' now gone, was the buxom lady who prepared the meal and she had a fearsome deep voice. If you wanted to eat anything else you had to order it beforehand otherwise it was just make do with what was available from her garden. We had taken the stairs down the mountain all the way to Positano in the early evening and I had fallen in love with the place.

Praiano in the distance

This time I arrived with some of my children but no husband in tow as he was meeting us later.

The reception was all together different. As soon as the locals has disappeared into their homes a heavy silence befell the village. We entered almost as if we were trespassing. I felt as if we should be on tiptoe so as not to disturb.

There was an elderly lady who had come to her door to inspect the newcomers arriving with the bus and she gave us a buona sera. On our way back, she was seated on a kitchen chair outside her front door on the lane with two others chatting. The rest of the place was deserted. The tiny piazza with its breathtaking views to rival Ravello and its shade tree was all for us. Even a whisper sounded too loud.

Eventually modern technology caught up with the silence and a deafening mechanical contraption for bringing goods up stairs broke the peace. A wife and husband made several trips up stairs from the device to their car, both equally laden with heavy boxes on their heads carrying the freshest vegetables I have ever seen in Positano straight from their garden.

A cross on the tip of the mountain

The mountains seem to churn out hard working people. 'Angelo' was our postman from Nocelle for many years. He would walk down along the 1700 proclaimed steps to Positano everyday from the mountain; do the rounds of Positano delivering mail on the endless staircases with a towel draped around his neck with which to wipe the sweat in the heat, then return home in the late afternoon to tend his garden. This was in the days when the road didn't reach the village !

We take the easy way back and wait for the bus, the sun still lingering on the mountain top.