Buon Natale from Positano

 

Buon Natale a tutti!

We had a delicious lunch on the terrace in the warm sunshine and are about to take a walk on the beach to work it off on the stairs. A very Happy Christmas in Positano.

 

I wish you all peace and serenity in the New Year. Thank you for following Bell`Avventura.

Fire in Positano

I wake to an unearthly yellow light and the throb of a chopper overhead. Sunlight is lost to a haze in the air, and an acrid smell of smoke clings to the washing hung out overnight. Ashes scatter as I throw open the terrace doors and a Canadair plane swoops low over our house to the water where it scoops from the sea with it’s gigantic belly. A second one thunders past at an angle, fast on the tail of the first one. It is so close that I can see the pilot. The sound similar to air raids in a war-torn country is deafening and continues all day, unremittingly  until dusk.

Today is the third day of a devastating mountain fire over the mountains of Positano. A fire which has destroyed the best part of the mountain’s pine forest and a loved walk of the Positanesi.

The fire started two nights ago in the hills above Chiesa Nuova, just before dusk, as always. The first flames were visible from our home.

Helicopters were on the scene straight away dipping at Fornillo but had to stop in the dark.

Volunteers worked all night against the fire which fanned in the timber dry area until it had spread in an ever widening circle to include Montepertuso and the Monte Faito mountain in the Gulf of Sorrento.

When we set out in the morning in our boat the mountains looked like this, with pockets of fire scattered wide.

On our return in the afternoon, I was there in time to witness the helicopter’s release of a  bucket of water over the forest beneath the mountain hole at Montepertuso. The scene was nightmarish. Blackened mountain as far as I could see.

If only tears could drench the flames.

Sunday In Positano

 

It is early morning. The rustle of sheets gently nudges me out of my dream. But it is only the swell of sea breathing softly against the shoreline.

As always I wake from one dream to another.

I look towards Fornillo Beach and have to make the decision of whether to go for an early swim in the transparent waters and brave the climb of steep stairs returning at 11.00 or climb the mountain in the other direction to buy food and stop at the Bar Internazionale for a coffee and chat.

 

 

Rather than sit on the beach all day in the hot sun, I prefer to stay at home and watch the others swim from the shade of my terrace.

But today it is Sunday.

I have ironing to do in preparation for a week’s holiday in Ischia to celebrate our Silver Wedding Anniversary.

But with this view from my window and Ingrid Michaelson singing in the background, that’s not such a bad thing…

For a post on What I Love about Living in Italy, visit An Italophile.

Buona domenica to you all!

The Dark Side of Positano

Getting down the stairs at night was an enterprise.
Blinking lights like an airport runway, turned on and off repeatedly only to reappear millimetres from where we were about to place our foot next. Each of our steps was a hovering indecision, a crucial life or death situation for the magical creatures lining the path.
Slowly we made our way back to our home, fireflies dancing at our feet.
Hundreds of them, as brash as could be, lit our stairs leading to the gardens of Fornillo below our home. They clung to the stucco walls, flittered towards the street light and rested, dozens on each  step, a moment or two before changing position.
Leaning over the balustrade on the terrace, we watched enchanted as the fairies of the insect world waltzed in the lemon groves at our feet, the tall grass fleetingly masking the light and making it reappear at a distance. They rose and dipped in the terraced gardens, pockets forming in the corners only to dissipate just as quickly.
Are you there my love?
The romance of the situation was not lost on me.
The Amalfi Coast known best for the sweeping views and its natural coastline, transforms into a beguiling woman at night.
Its mysterious shadows envelope a constellation of tiny lights along the coastline. Its curves reflect the lights of the small towns.  Its sea is always in sweet song and dotted with fisherman’s boats on the horizon.  When in full moon, this lady of the night makes a dramatic entrance, red and impossibly grand over the edge of the mountain.  Its mesmerizing moonlight grazes the surface of the sea with an elegant liquid silver.
If I were a firefly, it would be here that I would dance.


Late April, the days warmed by the sunshine and the nights cooled by its shadow, are the best time to see the dance of the fireflies in Positano. The abandoned gardens in Fornillo are a haven for the ecosystem of the Coast and these insects are replaced in summer by the tiny bats, owls and less appreciable blood sucking creatures called mosquitoes.