Day 5.  A lazy Sunday at “home.” Read. Crocheted. Went for a “swim.” Napped. Read some more. At 6:00 pm, we wandered down to catch the bus to Praiano. Went inside church. Lots of people in piazza. Church being decorated. Alter covered with flowers. Went to find a restaurant. La Brace opened at 7:30. We returned at 7:35 and got the last table next to the open windows and a view of the twinkling lights of Positano in the distance. Asked if 1 pizza (7 euros) feeds 2. No, only one. Marc ordered that and I ordered ravioli al ragout. Vino and birra and an almond tart for dessert. Huge pizza, enough for 2. Delicious bread served too. 30 euros.

Back to piazza at 9:15 pm. At 9:35 pm, the music started. Had to leave at 9:45 for the bus, which showed up at 10:00… I can’t figure out the darn schedules… Local bus “stops” aren’t marked. I asked for “campo fermata.” The bus driver asked, “What is fermata? Where are you going?” I replied, “By the ‘Benvenuto a Praiano’ sign.” Then we got there, he calls out, “CAMPO FERMATA.” I think I pronounced it “fur-ma-ta.” He pronounced it “fayer-ma-ta.” We could hear the music in the piazza from our open apartment window.

Day 6.  Monday. Supposed to go to Positano. Woke up to thunder, lightning and torrential rain. Still going strong at noon. By 1:00-ish, not raining. Decided to order/go to Praiano for groceries. Called Anna—on her way home from Sorrento. Took us to town in her car. Met Angela, our grocer. Bought vino, gnocchi, eggs, crusty bread, shallots, garlic, tomato sauce, tortellini, parmesan. Strawberries and pears. Anna: “Lovely.” Put it on our account.

Came home. Sun shining and hot! Took a swim. Ate lunch on patio. More reading, napping, sun-bathing. Watched BBC World News. Euro dropped! Dinner of gnocchi, shallots, garlic in olive oil with tomato sauce. Dessert: fresh pears and strawberries. Also hung laundry and washed windows. Fireworks in Praiano!

Day 7.

Tuesday. Day trip to Positano. Thunder and lightning again, but clear when we get up. Took local bus to Spiaggia Grande. Fodors book describes a walk as “the loveliest seaside walk on the Amalfi Coast.” I will never buy another Fodors guide. It didn’t mention that it is a very short walk, or that hundreds of stairs must be climbed at the end of it to get anywhere.

By noon, my face is red and sweaty and we’re ready for our naps! There is a restaurant we are trying to get to. We could keep on with the steps, but I would rather cover more distance at less of an incline. We take to the narrow road. The Fodors guide says the restaurant is across from a small piazza by a church on the street Via Chiesa. Couldn’t find it. Asked someone. Down a few streets. We found it. Filled with locals. Ordered manicotti and pumpkin ravioli for Marc. Promised myself I’d try something new but being worn out, I have to stick with something I know will be good and hearty. Good sized amount of pasta. Waiting and waiting for il conto. As we are leaving, the locals are just beginning their second courses. These 2+ hour Italian lunches are indeed a thing. We’d been there for over an hour just to eat one course.

Church in Positano. Praiano’s is prettier on the inside. The campanile is under restoration. The square is 1/10th the size of Praiano’s…

We wander until we find a bakery with dozens of cakes and cookies and pies. We each have a slice of Positanese (a rich, chocolate sponge cake). Yummy. So rich and decadent.

Back to Praiano in the early afternoon. All the way to town to pay our grocery bill. We get there at 3:45 and it is closed! Standing in street, wondering what to do when we see Angela above the store, watering some plants on her balcony. “Ciao,” I shout. My brain fumbles for the word for “open.” “Aperto?” I ask, pointing at my watch. She replies something that sounds like she will be down. We pay our bill and buy new groceries. That night we will have a pear and gorgonzola salad and different kinds of bruschetta. Marc picks out an 8 euro bottle of pinot grigio.

Every time I go to ask Angela if she has something, she says it before I do. Olio? Si. Pane? Si. I look for pommodori and she comes by, moves a crate and there are perfectly ripe cherry tomatoes. As we are leaving, Angela disappears into the back of the store and returns with the biggest lemon I’ve ever seen. She gives it to us. I feel like crying, resist the urge to hug her. After we leave, she pulls the door shut. She had opened just for us.

Go on the next part of the journey!