The girl with the hat

My fedora strikes up a lot of interesting conversation: “I like your hat, Ciao.”

After returning to our hotel and showering, we decided to share our remaining litre of cabernet from our beloved Venice.  We marched down the hill in search of futbol!  There were tv’s all over the little squares.  They were wheeled out and perched for all to view.  We decided to keep going down the hill to see if we could mesh both FIFA madness and waterfront romance.  Fail.  We found a quaint, fairly inexpensive place on the beach and split a bottle of pinot grigio.  This was the first restaurant that the waiter sampled the wine for me.  I obliged and tasted it.  Am I really supposed to return a bottle in Italy?  Come on, I’ve yet to taste a bad one.  Well there was that red one that we got from the Alla Botte store in Venice, but we left it out for a few too many days.

NCIS was playing on the widescreen behind me.  Kelly was sucked in, telling me plot details of the specific episode.  We both ordered insalate Caprese.  It was absolutely divine.  The mozzarella here is smaller then I have been typically seeing, about 2 inches big.  The tomatoes are the absolute freshest.  Just about a year ago I didn’t eat tomatoes.  I think I was the only Italian in the world who didn’t.  My first was a juicy beefsteak in the heat of summer, slathered in Peter Luger’s steak sauce at Brandon’s beautiful mountain house.  That did it, I was hooked.  We split a ham and mushroom pizza but could have done with out it.  

As we casually drank our wine and laughed, it started to drizzle.  The wait staff panicked and starting moving tables around.  They had a retractable roof that came down and provided shelter.  The friendly English speaking waiter came over and exchanged conversation.  There are four types of winds that hit Amalfi.  This one was the African wind which brings the rains and humidity.  He also was complaining of a fever-  strange.  The northern winds bring cold and I can’t remember the other two.  After I paid, he brought out two perfectly chilled lemoncello shots and the best lemon sorbet I’ve ever had.  There were bits of lemon ground up in it and it melted as it hit your tongue.  Happy camper.

Friendly and courteous American boys!

We never got our soccer.  As we were walking back up, I spotted a MLB hat.  At first I thought it was a yankee hat, but then there was a red brim.  We exchanged conversation with our new found Emory graduates, exploring just like us.  We shared a few beers and discussed a wide range of topics.  They were staying somewhere up the mountain and had rented a car.  Yesterday they rented a boat and had a self guided tour of Capri.  That would have been cool, too.

With the prospect of a potentially fun night, I went inside and finagled some cheap lemoncello shots.  While we were sitting there I was watching this young blonde English speaking (most likely American) girl surrounded by 4 or 5 preying old men.  They were moving in for the kill and I felt awful witnessing this.

The boys picked up our tab which was lovely and we parted ways.  Overall, the night was mellow and fun, perfect for our little holiday.