7am start, the bus is at the front door ready on time, all travellers are ready

The train, Frecciarossa 9524 from Salerno to Milan but stopping in Naples and Rome (not just for us), arrives on Binnario 18, the group has split with some going to get food, some saying goodbye to family and some boarding the train.

The train ploughs aong at up to 280-300 km/hour through the countryside. Its green, lush and hilly. We decide to get off at Rome Termini rather than Tibbertina, its closer to our apartment and will save us about 30 minutes.

The taxi from Rome Termini train station is easy to find, and the 15-20 minute trip to our accomodation is not something I would won’t to do on foot. I have noticed that the Rome taxi drivers, the official ones in white taxi’s with prices on their doors (including 50 euros to Fumicino Airport) are good, seem friendlier than I remember and prices seem reasonable. Except for one clown when we first arrived a week ago when he left us standing in the street.

Our apartment is Hi Suite Rome, viadi monte giordano 19, 0186 Roma. Its 3 story, modern, renovated, very contemporary style, in an ancient building, 1 ensuite bedroom upstairs, 1 ensuite bedroom in the basement and a kitchen/living area on the ground floor. there is a grocery store, cafes, restaurants and other shops right at the front door. The windows I think are double glazed so we don’t pick up any noise at night even when the restaurants are in full swing. Other than a little test getting our bags up the stairs we’re very happy with it.

We get a coffee/tea and some pastry for a late breakfast at a nearby cafe and wait for the the Murphy’s Paul aka Scintillante and Liz aka IDT) to get back from a tour of the Coleseum. I watch the Cronulla v Souths NRL semi final on my phone. Now there are 4 teams left Penrith, Cowboys, Souths and Parramatta, for anyone that cares. I’d like to see Parramatta win, they were Tim’s team

The Murphy’s arrive back, they’ve had a good morning, still buzzing with excitement and that “thing” that Rome can do to you. Even though its easy to get lost in the winding alleys and crushing crowds around the main tourist sites, people talking waving hands, scooters rushing past, its a place you can feel comfortable in, the people are friendly and helpful, although there are a lot who don’t speak English, so having a few basic Italian words can help. Handy when you have a master linguist like Il Maestro in your group – not.

We walk to the piazza Navona, its only a few minutes away, then after missing the Pantheon because I think I had Navona the wrong round in my navigation brain cells we decide to head to Galleria Borghese for our 5pm slot. The walk takes longer than expected, The Navigator is a bit whingy but coping, just, any further and I’d have got a good lecture about taking a taxi next time.

The Borghese is full of ancient and modern sculptures, bas-reliefs, mosaics and paintings and has masterpieces by Caravaggio, Raphael, Titian, Bernini and Canova. The value of the collection is priceless. The villa was built in the early 1600’s by a favoured nephew of Pope Paul IV, Cardinal Scipione. The villa was renovated by Marcantonio Borghese in the 1770’s. The decorations of the ceilings are magnificant, worth the visit to see the building, let alone the art. My favourites are the Bernini scultures, the Carravagio paintings and Raphael where his style seems to be the start of a new way to paint. I don’t know much about art but I know what I like.

The Galleria Borghese was acquired by the Italian State in 1902 and opened as a gallery in 1902. Its well worth the effort to see, but you have to book, you cant take water in, no flash cameras and no backpaks or large bags – they must be checked into a cloak room – The Navigator takes issue with these rules, she’s a little tense but gets over it, and I think she can take or leave the gallery visit, she spends a lot of time sitting in the chairs with a far away look (of shops maybe?) in her eyes.

Unlike the walk there, the walk back via Trevi Fountain and the Pantheon is slow and relaxed, although we’re all a little foot and leg sore. Its a shame the pantheon is closed when we get there , it closes at 7:30pm, so a ander back to via di Monte Giordano for a dinner next door to our accomodation.

We are welcomed at the restaurant, the food is fantastic and the the Murphy’s and The Navigator clean their plates, we do 3 courses and Scintillante and I do a large Italian beer. To much f…g beer for me, but its good. A great dinner, time for bed to rest our weary bodies, its been a long day. A small niggly itchy nose feels a little like a cold, I need to nip that in the bud.

Ciao from Roma – Paulo

So lets go back to yesterday and add some detail.

A coffee and pastry at the bar next door with Regazzo and Il Banditore. The coffee is good, so bloody good. The place is packed with school girls and the odd boy buying mostly cigarettes but some buy pastries and some buy coffee to go with the smokes. Its humid inside, its raining outside, the atmosphere is good, the proprietor gets our coffee as a priority over the kids, seems like after a week that we’re looked on sort of like locals. The locals drop in for cigarettes, espresso, a quick chat with the proprietor, never sitting, hands flapping, talking like its an argument, but it doesn’t actually seem to be one.

A one minute walk back at the villa, a bit of solid food for breakfast then upstairs to the first floor living area, where I spend some time getting my phone set up to watch the NRL semi final between Parramatta. The tv apps for Australia dont allow you to watch Australian TV shows so you have to trick it into thinking you are in Australia. A VPN (Virtual Private Network) does that, I think, so with fingers crossed I kick Nord VPN into gear and presto we’re watching The Eels v The Raiders. The Eeels are very impressive and win easily. Regazzo (the accountant) joins us, reading us the scores off  the NRL live stream score site before we see it on the phone. F….g annoying, we tell him so, and he stops doing it for a while. Then he commandeers my tablet and watches separately on that, same thing again so he’s threatened again and complies. I’m glad I tried this, I worked out a bit about technology having a crack at it.

Regazzo has some redeeming features, he arrives back after the football with a pizza and generously shares some with John and I. Its a very tasty pizza, fresh, tasty, melt in your mouth pizza. I hear his wife Della (aka Jane) ask him where the pizza was, he responds I ate it. John and I are a little embarrassed that we ate pizza that should have been Janes, but as the Newcastle song says, never let a chance go by, my guilt moves on quickly.

I go for  nice long walk up the hill away from the water, to local shops along the main road and back down the hill to the villa, Its a nice walk, quiet, leafy streets, locals talking, drinking coffee.

The shoppers return from Sorrento, sore feet and smiles on their faces, with a plan to return to buy more bags and clothes later on before dinner at a restaurant reccomended by the other travellers when they came down from Naples to Sorrento. The rest of us chill in the garden  and have a few drinks, some of us have a few more than others before the walk to the dinner venue. The night is balmy, the mosquitos are small and bite hard, rain feels close.

At 4:30 the Williams clan leave for a night in Naples, a car and driver take then all the way in to their hotel.

The walk to the restaurant is brisk, but Helen & The Architect lag behind, Helen has been working on rehydration all afternoon and doesn’t feel the need to rush, her brother comments that she’s never been early in her life, harsh maybe, dunno, could be true.

The afternoon handbag shoppers have a table organised before we get there, the centre of the room, beers and wine ordered, then food, the waitress is the boss’s daughter, she seems in control and has a lovely smile. I order an entree of deep fried calamari, The Navigator orders hers, my neighbours order a convivio something or other and the mood is festive and we’re all hungry, some hungrier than others as will become apparent.

Entree’s begin appearing, the waiter delivering the food has a sweat on his forehead, he drops food and runs and a brown paper bag with deep fried sea food is given to my erstwhile neighbours (Helen & Rob). They dive in and start shovelling the delicious looking food into their mouths assuming that it was what they ordered, Helen is adamant that it actuallt is what they ordered but her memory is slightly dulled by the vino from the session in the garden at the villa where we inhaled mossie coil and swatted the dirty biting little black blood suckers earlier, all combined with alcohol. After a while, when a poor orphan looking entree dish, which I advised is clearly not mine is recognised by Helen as being what she had actually ordered. Her face turns red as she comes to the realisation that her and Rob had hoed into my food without hesitation or consultation. Of course she blames the waiter, she blames the guests, she blames God for not telling her she was about to make a huge mistake but the responsibility clearly rests with her. The next mistake is then trying to placate me while I gazed dismayed at my half nibbled half gobbled entre. I swear she looked that hungry I was surprised that she didn’t eat the brown paper bag or at least suck the grease out of the paper in the bag. Food is offered to me as a reconcilatory gesture, other things yet to be clarified what they are are offered, but my integrity says to me that I won’t enquire further what that might look like.

I’m feeling OK about having half of my ordered entree eaten by a thief, however Helen is still struggling with her guilt and decides that alcohol and dance therapy will help her through rehabilitation for commiting this gastronomic crime.

The restaurant starts some music going, we start singing and Helen decides to reenact Olivia Newton-Johns leather suit dance (You;re the One That I Want) with John Travolta when Grease comes on. Helen is accompanied by Ciclista Dismountus, mainly because he’s afraid that her extreme hip swininging and arms flaying may endanger a customer or worse still one of us. The locals and travellers dining at the restaurant get their phones out, I think they are concerned about evidence should their ear drums rupture from the loud and poor singing or from Helens flailing arms. As the DJ adds some old Italian classics and other songs on, our group take over the restaurant and start a conga line, knotted hankies on heads, dancers from America and Italy join the pulsing dance floor. Not me, I don’t dance and I don’t cook, and besides its fun watching the action on the floor.

Dinner is a success, great fun on our last night in Sorrento.

The walk home from Sorrento to Sant Agnello is slow, Helen seems to have sorted her guilt issues out but it won’t be forgotten, who said revenge is a dessert best served cold? The great entree crime, a felony of fish, will not go unavenged. The rain starts to fall as we turn into Via Coccumella, our street. Patience Pauolo, the day will come.

A quick tidy up before bed and an early start tomorrow morning.

Ciao from Sorrento – Paulo

Today is a quiet day, at least it is until the end of the day when the touring party cut loose a bit, ok maybe a lot is a better way to describe it. Me, well I documented it, no dancin for this bloke!

Its late and the few lemincellos have dulled my head so im going to sum it up and then give you the detail in Part 2 tomorrow while we’re on the train to Rome.

Summary of the day is as follows. We have a quiet morning, at least the men do, the women go shopping, The Navigator is in good company, this lot look like seasoned retail operators.

Il Banditore and I work out how to get live tv from Australia via Channel 9 and using a VPN to trick the computer into thinking youre in Autsralia, why do we do this you might ask. Well Parramatta are playing Canberra in the NRL finals. The result is a walk over to the Eels. More on that tomorrow. Regazzo, the accountant, joins us and brings pizza which we later find out was meant to be for him and his wife, but never mind I was hungry and dont feel guilty at all

Lunch is sorted with the pizza and I go for a walk up around Sant Agnello, not hugely exciting, then a few beers and then dinner at a place just near the CBD of Sorrento.

Dinner is a lot of fun, another victim presents themselves for a full character assassination, I’ll do that tomorrow whe I have time and more evidence of the crimes commited.

Ciao until tomorow. Pauolo

Today I’m walking back to Sorrento to a Sophia Loren exhibition at a gallery which also had some other art work.

Then at 12:45 the Wallabies are playing New Zealand in rugby so I want watch that as its on the Sky sport channel at the villa.

So the walk to Sorrento with Il Banditore and Regazzo is brisk, the lead changes a few times and Regazzo stays back in the pack and is a tad red faced and sweating when get into Sorrento. So am I but Il Banditore and I won’t admit it.

After walking past the gallery entrance ( my fault) we backtrack and pay the €15 entrance for the impressionist exhibition from private galleries as well as the photographic exhibition of mainly Sophia Loren. There is also a room with 100+ year old gramophones and earlier music machines including an exquisite one with a few ballerinas dancing. The impressionist paintings are a mixed bunch, the include Degas, Manet, Monet, Renoir, La Trec and others.

The photographic exhibition is excellent, Sophia is a real poster girl, stunningly beautiful, her eyes could persuade you to do anything. Lucky Carlo Ponte.

A brisk walk back in time for the 12:45 rugby kick off. A crowd gathers upstairs at the TV to watch the Wallabies v All Blacks from Melbourne, the Wallabies do remarkably well and are leading by 3 with 40 seconds to go but the French referee overturns a penalty to Australia, ridicous reason, NZ score a try and game is over.

Rain starts, sort of and it looks like an afternoon chillin at the villa is the go.

Dinner tonight is at the hotel next door at their restaurant overlooking the Bay of Naples. The food is terrific and once more The Navigator tidiesvher plate up pretty well.

There are no character assassinations tonight.

Ciao from Sorrento, 2nd last night here.

Paulo

Today we’re on a boat, just 12 of us, down the coast to Amalfi then along lunch at Portofino, then back to Sorrento. We are leaving at 8:45am by a bus down the crazy Sorrento ravine to the docks.

I decide to try a coffee at the next door bar with Il Banditore. The coffee is very very good, strong, smooth and flavour, just like a very good Australian coffee. It cost €2, very reasonable. I also buy my beers from here, Peroni stubbies are €2 each, no need to buy bigger packs that I have to carry back to the villa.

The bus is on time, the weather is fine, the sky is blue, it’s going to be warm, we get to the dock and there is a lot of people waiting for boats of different varieties. Our boat is about a 30 foot, seats at the back and an area at the front, Andreas is our driver, I’d say age is probably 40’s, has the swarthy sea dog look about him, an ear ring like a pirate, and a smile.

The sea is a bit choppy, luckily The Navigator has taken a Travel Calm tablet. We head south west following the Sorrentine Peninsular around to the Amalfi coast. It’s quite a distance but the boat ride is relaxing, the breeze off the Medditeranean is like an air conditioner set on exactly the right temperature. The water is a dark inky blue, and clear. The granite cliffs run down to the water with the occassional village on a small beach and no evidence of a way to get to them other than by sea. Occasionally we can see a road around the cliffs, I’m assuming this is the famous access road to the Amalfi coast, used in many movies over the years. We pass Portofino on the left ( sorry, Port side), Where we are long lunching later on.

First stop is the village, probably a town really, of Amalfi. It’s crawling with tourists, I hear American, English, Italian and eastern European being spoken, it’s quite warm. The two hours we have starts with a coffee and lemon cake, just outside the cafe a traffic cop with a gun directs the scooters, buses, cars, trucks and people, arms waving, whistle blowing trying to get some semblance of order with the crazy traffic at his corner.

A walk up the hill via the main street which is all touristy shops selling lemincino, Amalfi t shirts, ceramic shops with lemons painted in the glaze, cafes, a huge church sits near the bottom of the street.

We all gather at the dock at the rendezvous spot at the right time, military precision.

It’s hot in Portofino, we find that our lunch appointment time has been delayed and instead of 1:30 it’s now at 2:30, not sure what happened there. The wait time is killed by looking and walking up the steep streets but too steep for me, and too hot so I/we sit like homeless people on the steps to kill time.

When we get to the table, we have a fantastic view over the sea, the food is very good. I had a caprese salad and sea bass fillet in lemon sauce ( delicious), The Navigator had arrancini and veal chop with mushrooms for a main. Amazingly nothing is left on her plate, except a small bit of meat on the bone which Ciclista Dismountus tidies up for her.

We are later than expectedback to the boat, Andreas bungs on a bit of an Italian hissy fit, hands waving, leaning down into L’agentes face. He says the biss has gone broke, last day this boat gies out, he works eith hours not twrnty hours a day…… on on on and f….g on. Not sure whether this is a ploy to secure a decent tip or real. Anyhow, he calms, we head back towards Sorrento hugging the cliffs stop for a couple of swims( only 4 swimmers) and we get back into Sorrento at about 7:30pm, it just getting dark. We take the €1.29 elevator to the top of the cliff to avoid walking the ravine back to town.

A cup of tea and a snack and everyone retires. It’s been a long wonderful day eating and on the water.

Ciao from Sorrento – Pauolo

I think today will be a shopping day. The Navigator got some news this morning about changes at her work, interesting times for her, but pretty hard when we’re overseas.

We started the days missing the English family,  they were woken early by a renegade whipper snipperer, at 4am, but a few others including were woken as well. The rule of “quiet enjoyment” doesn’t seem to apply here.

The usual brekky, then off to Sorrento to shop. The Navigator, being a world class shopper is happy about going shopping and soon scores a pair of shorts, some ear rings, some nick narky presents and is also sizing up some other potential purchases for later on.

Lunch is at the Foreigners Club, it has a sensational view over the Bay of Naples. Eight of us have a very nice lunch and discuss plans for dinner tonight. It’s the men’s turn to cook, so let’s see how this ends up.

Dinner is prepared by The Men’s Kitchen, sort of a version of the men’s shed except its a bunch of ( lets say) later middle aged chaps cooking instead of wood turning or what ever they do.
The background : at lunch, for those that turned up, a decision was made for the men to cook a scratch up pasta dinner, chairperson of the board – Sonya (aka L’agente) oversaw the team selection, and signed off on the finance – The Team is Peter (aka Ciclista Dismountus), the sauce of divorce, Rob ( The Architect) in charge of quality control, John ( Il Banditore) pasta masta, Paulo who has no cooking skills except as a shit kicking notetaker takes on finance and logistics.

Il Maestro was not present at lunch, no  note from his mother, we assume for reasons yet to be advised. Needless to say the kitchen was quiet, and worked efficiently without him,  however we do thank him for his contribution by not being there. There is no option of a reply by Il Maestro..

I read a poem, written at a bar in Chiang Khong, northern Thailand overlooking the Mekong River as I was contempting a little Buddhist service for putting some of Tim’s ashes in the Mekong that day.

Dinner is a success, the pasta and sauce plus the salad is great, capped off by icecream cake.

Early to bed tonight, tomorrow we have a boat ( just us) and we’re visiting the Amalfi coast, shopping and lunch in Positano, may a swim in the Mediteranean later.

Ciao from Pauolo in Sorrento

The couple or three gin and tonics yesterday afternoon as well as the travel weariness dulled my brain a bit last night so what I wrote wasn’t much chop really. I didn’t actually assassinate (metaphorically) any characters, except for a greedy taxi driver who didn’t accept the opportunity to rip us off.

I hate losing things, and yesterday I did, it was a small leather coin purse with a few Euros in it so money wise inconsequential, but it erks me that I can’t remember where I last had it or used it. I doubt it was pickpockets, I think I put it down to my own stupidity, that’s probably what annoys me. Anyway move on Pauolo it’s gone, The Navigator will be looking for an aged care placement for me next.

It was really good to catch up with everyone yesterday. We set up the garden furniture in a “circle of truth” formation and then told a lot of lies.

This property “Villa St Angelo Sorrento” used to be a nunnery I believe. It’s a 3 story with one  basement bedroom, stone and brick, views from the top over gardens to the nearby Mediteranean. Its beautiful. We did a lotto type draw for bedrooms, there are 7 or 8 of them and almost the same number of bathrooms. Via Cocumella is the street it’s on, a bit busy with traffic but shutters cut most of that out. The furnishing is lovely and there are a number of living areas you can relax in. The garden has a great outdoor setting and security gate access keeps riff raff out. Last night it kept a few of us in, we couldn’t get the code to work to let us out to go the the restaurant. There is a lift if you need it. The place is a great choice.

Disaster averted this morning, LAgente had locked herself in the bathroom. I have no idea how this happened It wasn’t funny, apparently, for he at least, as her husband( Il Banditore) was chortling outside the door in his undies trying to free her. To be fair he did look like he was trying hard, but one cant be sure of that entirely. If he’s not successful in freeing her we could be one less traveller to feed, a problem for LAgente but good for us, more food’s what I mean. Anyway after employing some remarkable flexibility and a long reach he gets the key from her via a window and she escaped a certain death from starvation in a Sant Agnello bathroom. Maybe I could sell that story? There is no photographic evidence of this event but its all true. Revenge is a dessert best served cold, see what the day brings.

I’m not sure what’s on the menu today but a walk and relaxation is what I feel will do me good.

Breakfast is fruit and toast in the garden, after an early shop. It’s very pleasant, there a nice feel about everything.

We split into different groups and head off for a little exploring. It’s a very short walk down the hill to the cliff over the water at Sant Agnello. Some of us walk through the tunnel and steps down to the water rather than pay €18 for the lift and access to the hotel. The public area water is dirty, there are some people swimming in the detritus in the water but there’s no way I’m putting even my feet in the filthy water.

However, conversely the view across the bay to Naples and Mt Vesuvius is stunning. There are lots of boats on the Mediteranean, a five masted barque (ask me how I know this?), there’s a large new motor yacht called AMO with what looks like a 15-16 foot tender and a huge yacht with lots of masts ( don’t ask me what sort of boat it is) and the ferries coming from and to Naples.

Our legs are a little jelly like by the time we make it back to the top. So the ones who took the smart option and stayed up the top of the cliff are looking remarkably relaxed. A birra ( Italian for beer) aperol for some, fixes rehydration issues and lactic acid in our legs.

Lunch is panini’s from a little cafe on the way back to the villa. Now it was a simple lunch order that that had the potential to be complicated by the ordering, but it all came through ok in the end.

The Navigator and I head to Sorrento walking the streets, its a hot afternoon so we walk on the shady side of the street, past a football stadium where Sorrento are playing Portici, a serious game because tickets are €15. we hear later that Ciclista Dismountus, Il Professore, Il Maestro and Capo de Maestro went into the game near the end, there sounds to be a bit of an atmosphere in the stafium as we walk past.

The Sorrento shopping area is pretty busy for a Sunday, so a renergising gellato is found. We walk the shops, get the lay of Sorrento, the amazing chasm that the road goes down to the water looks spooky to drive, its quite a nice shopping area.

Back at the villa, Cinquantacinque is busting to get a lime from the next door tree, I have a crack at getting one using a fork and another cooking implement that I can’t name. Unfortunatley the spike on the top of the fence almost punctures my nipple and I lose the fork over the fence. To be fair to everyone else, all with human frailties, I admit failure, rare but not unknown for me. Retrieving the fork is another problem that I doubt I’ll solve, and I’m wondering if there is such a profession as a nipple doctor, I could need a transplant, its a bit painfull.

As we’re chilling in the garden, we hear a pitiful cry from an upstairs window, we see a topless Il Banditore with his head through the window asking if his wife might show soem sympathy because hes locked in the bathroom. He who had laughed at her earlier in the day is now in the same predicament. He’s a sorry sight, with a worried look like he’s been charged three times for a meal. L’agente has tears in her eyes, revenge clearly on her mind as she remains unmoved on the lounge chair downstairs. Luckily he resolves the issue himself but is suitably quiet when he decends the stairs to join us.

A drink is had while Regazzo and Della head for dinner with family, then the rest of us head towards the water for dinner at a venue yet to be determined. Il Maestro leads the charge, in charge of securing a venue, however he too fails at the task he accepted, first option is booked out, and 2nd option we walk in to a sour faced jowelly maitre de who looks at us like we’re covered in pig manure and we quietly decide to move on before we order. The Navigator points out a back door and we exit quietly, heads down, no eye contact, reach the street and walk very briskly away. Unfortunatley The Architect and Cinquantacinque also try the no eye contact strategy and walk the wrong way, straight past the jowlley sour faced waiter, they mumble something unintelligible and keep walking, we eventually find them.

The Navigator, gastronome extrordinaire, specialising in well cooked red meat and potatoes, with an extreme aversion for the colour green, guides us to her choice, The Hotel Corallo restaurant. It looks expensive, upmarket, the waiters look smart, and it sort of ends expensive but the food was fantastic. The Sea bass, char grilled prawns and octopus is very good and the dessert very nice. It was a fun night with a little stress regarding what it might cost, only the odd menu had prices in it but the cost wasn’t too bad really. We missed Regazzo and Della but family commitments earlier had tied them up.

Day four has been great, tomorrow we doing a trip to Pompei together, leaving from Sant Agnello train station at 9:14am for a 10am tour. I’m really looking forward to this.

Caio from Sorrento – Paulo Sunday 11th September 2022

Some photos:

We had a good sleep last night🌙. Woke about 7-8 had a tidy up, packed bags, dressed my gammy finger, then went for a short walk. We found a great little cafe/ bakery just of Via del Tritone, coffee, tea, croissants and cigarette smoke from the table next door. Next we found the TIM mobile phone shop at the end of Tritone, and got fitted out with 2 Italian aims on the spare phones by a nice efficient young bloke called Olivier. It cost about $120 but we’re kitted out with data and mobile for 5 weeks in Italy and rest of the EU + Switzerland and Great Britain. We walk back to the cafe and get a bufalo mozzarella and tomato panini for lunch on the trip to Sorrento.

We need a taxi to get to Termini (Romes Centrale station) for our 12 midday train to Naples. Finding a cab in Rome is hard work, our TIM sims haven’t kicked into gear so we can’t use the apps they recommend and back at the hotel there are no staff to help so we hit the street. A taxi rank near us isn’t yielding so I wave a guy down on Tritone, he had a passenger but said he’d come back. Yeah right! The next bloke said €20 then €28 then drove off and left us. Then in the distance we see old mate  he came back, said he uses a meter but it should be about €15-16, he got us through heavy traffic and  the meter is €17 so we give him €20, and the change is his, an honourable honest cabby, worth the tip.

Our train is a Frecciarosso, a bit over an hour to Naples. Train is 9519, the Navigator is impatient, it’s in the board but no Binario (platform) is allocated yet and she wants to be on it ready to go. Patience isn’t one of her strong points, let’s say more.

Eventually it comes up on the board Binnario 8, we scan our ticket on the machine to get in, walk quickly to Car 8, the Navigator mumbling to slow walkers words to the effect ” oh for christ sake, get out of the f…g way!” I agree, she’s right.

The seats are good, we share with a young English couple. A Train 9519 takes off rattling along at about 250-300k/hour, the Swiss and Germans  and even the young Belgium guy on the plane suggest Italian trains are not on time and inefficient. That’s not been our experience, I like Italian trains.

In Naples on time at 1.30, then we struggle a little to find the Circumvesuviana line to Sorrento. The Navigator is struggling with steps and breath but we eventually sort it out. €4.20 per Ticket, Binnario 4 leaving at 1.57. A scammer gives directions thinking he’s been a help, he gets €1 to piss off, next time I won’t be so generous.

The train is on time, its rattler, lots of people heading to Pompei, very snug, we get a seat and keep the bags close, it’s notorious for pickpockets and thieves. A busking violinist gets on the train, everyone trying to earn a Euro, but it’s not that appealing and not that good. He’s not getting any of my Euros.

We arrive at Sant Agnello train station, no markings, Google maps gets us 950 metres through the alleyways to Cocomello Road and Villa St Angelo. Nearly all the others are here so it’s a great reunion with we see all the time to others we see rarely. We push off commercial quantities of alcohol, gin in particular , eat lovely food at a great restaurant around the corner.

It’s been a long day again.

Ciao for now – Pauolo

There are a few reasons you pay to upgrade a flight to Business or First Class –  1. Space and privacy 2. Dickheads who have the extra leg room in front of you and then do the full recline at 8am in the morning. I’d like to smack the slouching, cringing, fat, bald prick with the ugly fat head and hairy neck right in his hairy ear hole. There, I feel better by a little bit, but the top of his head is  so close I can see scars of his failed hair transplant on the top of his head, he is a hairy hairy dude except for the top of his fat head. Let’s leave it alone now, Brussells is only five hours away before I have to deal with tight schedule pressures.

I see Kirkuk on the map as I’m watching “The Phantom of the Open”, I think that’s where they found Sadam in a hole in the ground. Then we head over Sarajevo, so much conflict and tragedy in those places. We’re lucky in some parts of the world to have some isolation.

Oh I just remembered, The Queen died last night. Sad news really, she’s kept the whole monarchy going, wonder how Charles and Camilla are going to go. Camilla is about as popular as Meaghan at the moment. Anyway as far as I’m concerned the monarch as Australian Head of State is a joke BUT what we have now is a joke. My thoughts, keep the same structure we have but the Governor General is selected a different way and is accountable to somebody or something else. Keep the Australian flag but take the Union Jack off it.

Old mate in front is that close that I can see and bits of his emails. I wonder if his name is Dick because there are a lot of  emails to and from a chap named “Balz” . The content always starts with “Hallo Balz” but I don’t see how he signs off, but lets assume his name is Dick. Now it’s clear to me that Dick and Balz are close, they talk about exports to Korea, hope it’s not f…. North Korea, but with his  ignorant attitude and his two dodgy looking mates beside him it’s possible. He moved his seat upright for five minutes, got a spray of lemonade on his scone from the cabin steward when she gave him a chicken sandwich to eat, hope the Mamma Cass experience finds him.  Using “Hallo” to start an email I’m assuming they are from a Nordic country, they have a Norwegian/Finnish sort of accent, the bits that are in English that is. I know it’s not illegal to fully tilt your chair back, but never the less it annoys me. Anyway I hope Balz and Dick are close, because Dick doesn’t strike as someone with a lot of mates.

It’s now clear Brussells might be a problem.

Righto, let’s just clarify that again, Brussels is definitely a problem, we bound out of the plane in Brussels to see a pretty raven haired girl with a sign “Reid – Rome”, at her direction with her leading we run to a special exit called “The Fastlane” with a card saying we are a priority to pass emigration (European) and and fastrack to our boarding gate. Bit just like Race Around the World there is a road block, Brussels Airport staff lock the access doors while they are having a break, and Fastrack becomes a roadblock. We are trapped in a Dr Who like parallel universe, we can’t go forward and wr cant really go back, Finally they open the big electric doors and the staff amble in to man the security check, no rush despite the raven haired girl explaining the situation an we aren’t the only ones. A dozy security bloke sits me aside because my knees set the metal detector off, he’s f…ng around letting some kids through until I say “mate, I’m in a real hurry can you pat me down quickly” he dawdled along runs hos hands all over me then the the hand detector, all clear and we run with passports belts, watches to the gate.

The result – we missed the plane by about 3 minutes. The raven haired girl and The Navigator and I gather ourselves, catch our breathe, pack stuff away and walk all the way back to exit Brussels Arrivals and then enter Brussels Departures. By the time we find the Alyseo counter ( they do Qatar and other bookings as an agent) we’re exhausted, sweating and to be fair a little pissed at the world. It’s been 3 days of f….ups and early starts and late ends. I know it started because Qatar had engine problems and turned a plane around and the daisy chain effect meant we were going to be impacted, but today would have been much better with a 90 minute turnaround instead of a 50 minute turnaround, especially when there is so much confusion and so many changes happening. I’d have been happy if we’d been booked on the plane we ended up on instead of the one we missed. Lesson – I think I said it when I was in Laos Thailand recently, a bigger gap is easier to handle than a rush when weather or traffic jams on runways delay flights. This I say as somebody now well over 60 and not wanting a heart attack. And you lose things when you rush and pull things out and put back in because of security checks and the like.

Geert at the Alyseo counter is fantastic, we are booked on the ITA Flight ( Italian Airlines) 6:15:flight to get into Rome at 8:30pm, which means 1 hour + for the travel into Rome, and a likely 10:00-10:30 checkin. Geert gives us 2 x 18 Euro food vouchers compliments of Qatar, then we go through security all over again to get to gate A45. Geert is great.

We spend the vouchers at a Cafe restaurantnear our gate, a Marguerita pizza, a chocolate mousse, a big beer and a soft drink cleans up 37 Euros, the rest us a tip. The pizza is bellisimo.

The are no dramas without dramas when you are tired. We board the plane, we are in B seats ( the middle) in different rows, but that’s ok. The last few days have been so testing so Sorrento will need to be a chill time for a few days until we catch our breath.

There is a bloke snoring so loudly everyone on the plane can hear him. We arriveclose to on time, the airport is very busy, and miraculously our bags are the first on the carousel.

A 50 Euro taxi ride to the front door and we work out how to get into our accomodation. 11pm. A quick walk to Trevi Fountain, a gelato, a walk down towards The Pantheon, and a lot of the pain is gone. Rome is like that, sort a bit magical. Tomorrow is travelling again, the train to Sorrento and meeting up with some other travellers.

Ciao from Rome – Pauolo

Finally the Qatar staff pull it all together, thanks to two lovely young women who show the male staff up big time when it comes to courtesy and efficiency, and no thanks to one over officious bloke who didn’t want us sitting in the wheelchair area while we are waiting. We get our passports back with visa’s and a hotel, meal allocation and instructions to leave the building via immigration and customs and somebody would be waiting for us to transport us to the hotel. That actually all works out, and we’re on a bus with 2 young poms, an Irish couple heading home to Dublin and an expat Irishman heading to Ireland to see family. The Irish couple are well travelled, I think anyway, because I can hardly understand a word he says and he speaks very softly.

We’re at the Century Hotel Doha, we get a lovely suite, enormous room, loungeroom, and a bathroom as big as most hotel rooms. And it’s f…. hot, and humid, my camera fogs up, I’m sweating, can’t wait to get a t shirt on.

We go for a walk to a “market” , the Navigator is keen for some shopping, but where we are is in the boonies, it’s a 1km walk to the souk and we’re tired and hot so we go back to the hotel for dinner with some fellow travellers. The meal allowance well and truly covers our meals which are fair not brilliant. The chicken is pretty stringy, I reckon they chased an old rooster around a remote oasis, knocked it’s head off in the sand with a scimitar before transporting it 300km in an air conditioned Landcruiser then selling it in Qatar hotel restaurants as chicken breast . The predictive spelling wants to say ” breastfeeding”, I’m fighting WordPress’s inappropriatness as I write this on my Samsung phone. F…..g technology! Drives me mad sometimes. Anyway the Baba Ganoush is fresh and very tasty, and I didn’t take it via a breastfeeding experience.

The Navigator has trouble with the shower, but manages. She doesn’t like the rain shower, can’t explain why. There is a nightclub going until about 1am then at 4am the call to prayer followed by the 2 alarms and the wakeup call. As well as that the fire alarm goes off, so we’re up and ready early. The hotel razor is a blunt as my pocket knife so only a small part of my face is sans whiskers. Pain at 4am isn’t what I feel I need.

The bus is ready for the early starters at 5am and we leave on the 2nd bus at about 5.30am. There is a spectacular sunrise through the fog/smog/heat haze over the Doha skyline and the sea. Doha airport is busy busy, and eventually we find our gate via the information desk, it does come up on the board a bit later. Gate B7 is a long walk, a coffee and croissant costs about 64 dirhams ($24), but something (ie caffeine) in the belly is important this time of day.

We’re finally inside B7, flight is boarding on time, however due to a line-up to takeoff we’re behind schedule already. Brussels and Rome here we come, but as The Navigator points out, we’re now under the pump to get our connecting flight from Brussells to Rome

Ciao from Doha – Paulo