After the energy and heat of Amalfi coast, it’s like a different world here in this little village of Ewen in the Cotswolds, west of London.

We’re staying in the upstairs room with the open window.

Brigid and Neil, our hosts at the B&B who are both in their 80s and very sprightly, fed us on the heartiest, most sumptuous breakfast this morning. Everything you ever hear or read about B&B breakfasts come true! There’s another two couples at separate tables for breakfast too – one from Belgium and an English couple. But most of us were too busy enjoying our breakfasts so much, that there was very little inter-table conversation!

The front of the house was built about 300 years ago, but the back part was built by Brigid and Neil about 20 years ago.

Part of the back garden where it’s lovely to sit outside. You can see a thatched cottage in the centre – it’s their neighbour.

We’re ready for a “down-day” today, after the busy agenda we enjoyed so much last week. There’s no public transport here in this village and we have no inclination or desire to go anywhere further, so a quieter day was our best plan.

You can’t really notice Philip, but he is sitting out by the back stone wall on the right side. The apples on the old apple tree in front of him aren’t edible, but the blossoms cascading onto the lawn are beautiful.

After breakfast, we sat out in the back garden for some Sunday contemplations together, then put a couple of apples in my backpack, put our jumpers and coats on for a walk. Today it was several layers of coats we needed, not sunglasses or hats! Cloudy, almost misty rain, and a fresh, chill breeze to set us on our way. I did see a grey squirrel running across the back garden.

We decided to walk to the next village of Kemble, about a mile (1.6km) away. We stumbled upon a public footpath – called the Thames Path – as the Thames River has its headquarters nearby, starting off as a little stream or creek.

The most “English” of walks, along the little Thames creek and under big oaks. Alongside crops of broad beans. Over a stile, with two horses nearby.

Past a field full of tall, white shasta daisies.

We wandered round Kemble village and found the church at Kemble which was open. It’s Sunday morning, so we thought we’d join them. But no-one there. This particular Sunday of the month, they worship together in another church in a nearby village. We looked around the inside, empty-of-people church, but lots of other interesting things to see and admire inside there.

We wandered around some other streets. Beautiful old houses made of Cotswold stone – it’s very expensive to buy property around here! I found what I “think and believe” to be an old cherry tree and sampled lots of the fruits. Very sour and tart but refreshing.

We walked back to Ewen on the same path but made a little detour and sat down by the Thames Creek to eat our apples and enjoyed the peace and tranquillity of the tall, green trees, the clear water of the Thames (only several inches deep) very slowly wending its way to bigger things, listening to the birds.

We’ve sat out in the back garden of where we’re staying and it overlooks an empty field and chatted to our hostess, talking of “cabbages and kings”. We did take books out there to read, but Brigid came out for a chat, so we did that instead.

And that’s all we’ve done so far today! And probably won’t do much more for the rest of the day. But it is recharging our batteries and renewing our souls!

And after my saying how quiet and peaceful it is here, now I can hear continuous gun shots coming from somewhere. I wonder if it’s target practice or they’re shooting rabbits or something.

Ahhh, now the gun shot noises have stopped! Peace reigns again. When we’re out walking around, we don’t see many people around. Maybe they’ve all gone elsewhere for their holidays!

This morning as Philip and I ate our huge, delicious breakfast at Well Cottage, we watched two grey squirrels scampering on the back lawn. I thought I was listening to a Fawlty Towers dialogue this morning as our host tried to take a breakfast order from the table next to us – not quite… it was done with pleasantness, not Basil’s impatience and frustrations!

When I first poked my head out of our little dormer bedroom window this morning I saw sunshine, but the grey clouds soon rolled in and so they have stayed.

Time and inclination for us to do another walk in this beautiful part of the Cotswolds. But we decided to walk in the other direction of the Thames Path, following it downstream for a while.

The crystal-clear waters are shallow, only a few inches deep and as wide as a small creek. Sometimes the River burbles and gurgles along, sometimes it’s silent.

We heard more bird song, saw more butterflies.

A woven willow fence line

We listened to the wind in the trees softly sighing as it rustled through.

This is a “Pooh-sticks” bridge if ever I saw one!

We thought we’d walk as far and as if or when we came to another village. We walked through farmlands.

Cows sleepily supervised our footsteps.

We heard the sheep in their paddocks long before we saw them.

They were self-shedding sheep, looking like they’d had bad haircuts. I picked up one of the tufts of wool on our path – a short wool staple.

Their lambs were older, but still constantly bleated for their mothers and ran to them as we passed by.

Past wheatfields, nearly ripe unto harvest. A farmer mowing his paddock on his big tractor.

We walked along the Thames Path for nearly two hours to Neigh Bridge which I thought would be a village.

It’s not. Neigh Bridge is a lake – part of the Cotswolds Water Parks that are conservation lakes and wetlands that filled up the gravel pits naturally from rivers and streams after gravel extractions were finished in the early 1970s. A huge wetlands area.

Beautiful spot, but time to turn round and head back to Well Cottage. For one thing, I needed a toilet and there were none to be had or nearby. So, we walked back at a faster clip than we left! We both really enjoyed the walk. Our highlight was rounding one corner of the Thames Path to see this.

Seven swans a-swimming! Well, eight actually. It’s seven cygnets and their mother. Such a delight and joy.

We ate our lunch in the back garden and did a walk around the village of Ewen. There’s only houses here, lots of posh houses – no shop or post office, no church, no pub. Brigid, our host, says it all started with the posh people coming to the Cotswolds when the Royal family bought some houses in the area years and years ago, then other celebrities did too and now it’s far too expensive for the ordinary people.

There used to be a pub in this village, but new owners in renovating the Grade 2 listed pub-house knocked down some walls they “shouldn’t” have knocked down. So it’s closed, and our hosts think will probably not re-open, as it will probably cost millions to fix everything.

It’s been a delightful couple of down-days here. Tomorrow we head for Duffield, near Derby, in the middle of England (approximately). Here’s another photo of the seven (or eight) swans a-swimming!

Finishing off with some vivid blue forget-me-not flowers growing wild on our walk. I love forget-me-nots, but can’t grow them in Perth. They always remind me of our little dog Lucy in Melbourne with the seedheads like burrs in her coat. In the end I would have to cut them out and Lucy would look a bit like those self-shedding sheep!

I think Philip and I have reached saturation point for ancient history in this part of the world! We’ve had a wonderful day today, travelling with a few of our group by train to the ruined city of Herculaneum which was also destroyed by Vesuvius at the same time as Pompei in 79AD.

Herculaneum is not as well-known as Pompei, but I enjoyed exploring it, and got more out of it. I found Pompei overwhelming – too vast, too much, too many people. Herculaneum’s ruins were discovered earlier – in the early 1700s by locals digging down for wells and the earliest evacuations were amateurs and locals who helped themselves to the treasures, antiquities and whatever they found. Only about 20% of the site has been excavated – the rest of the city is under the current town and they’re focussing now on conserving properly what is uncovered. It’s a much smaller site, but better to access and understand and far less people. They don’t have the big tour buses visiting.

You walk down through the town of Ercolano and then all of a sudden, the ruins of Herculaneum are right there in the town before you.

The city was buried under 20 metres of volcanic ash (buried deeper than Pompei) and only about 1,000 of the 7,000 people escaped. It was a fishing village in the winter and a resort for the very wealthy in the summer.

This photo (above) is of the boat sheds under the big house where they found 300 skeletons of people waiting in vain for boats to come and rescue them. The boats were on the way but didn’t get there in time. It’s copies of skeletons you can see in the photo through the doorways. The real bones are elsewhere.

Lots of the people waiting there had brought stuff from their homes – everyday objects like wicker baskets, lamps, bottles – and also expensive jewellery and lots of coins. We later saw some of the objects they’d recovered in the little museum nearby.

The remains of a boat from the nearby boatsheds

It makes it all seem more personal and heartbreakingly sad. These were real people once upon a time. Trying to get away with some of their personal wealth – but all in vain.

In this frieze above, it looks like the man on the right is going to put a knife into the other man. Maybe he’s a surgeon? I don’t know, I’m making it up!

This statue seems to be celebrating savagery. It’s hunting dogs tearing at a deer.

Beautiful, colourful frescoes on the walls. Mosaic on the floors. Decorations like columns or fancy ledges around the rooms. No effort or expense seemed to be spared for the wealthy.

Ordinary, small rooms for ordinary people and workers. It was a busy town.

Some items found in the boatsheds with the people waiting in vain for boats

It took us a long time to get back to the hotel by the trains which weren’t running as frequently in the afternoon. You often stop for long times between stations when the railway tracks narrow from two lines to one line, and you have to wait for the oncoming train to pass through before you can proceed.

This afternoon I decided to go for another swim. My last one in the Mediterranean. I decided to make more effort to find the “free” beach where you’re not expected to pay. I had more success! Now that I know what signage to look for, it’s not as difficult as I previously thought. I needed to change my perspective on how to look and find directions here. But to reach the beach I had to walk down what felt like 10,000 steps.

Hot, black sand and big stony rocks and pebbles all the way into the sea. It was easier to flop into the water as soon as it was safe to do so, rather than wade over stones and big pebbles. Much more buoyant with the very salty water and very refreshing. Here’s the proof again!

The walk back up those 10,000 steps made the shower in the hotel very welcome! No wonder Italian people are not usually overweight with the high-carb food and high-sugar diet they eat. It’s all the steps and hills they have to climb!

Our last day here in Vico Equense on the Amalfi Coast. There’s a ceilidh (pronounced cay-ley) which is Scottish music and dancing – like a barn dance – this evening for our group.

At our last meal tonight, at dessert-time, the lights were turned off in the dining room, dramatic opera music came on the loudspeakers and in walked two staff with flaming bombe alaskas – great applause from our group! It was a great success with everyone. Philip had two helpings!

Tomorrow our group heads back to England. It’s been a great week that we’ve really enjoyed with a wonderful group of people, and we got such a lot from our week in Amalfi. A fabulous week.

Some of our group at Herculaneum.

(There were more photos to add, but the programme keeps putting them in upside down – I can’t fix the problem – so that’s your lot for today – and it’s probably more than enough anyway!!)

Our group had a coach bus today to take us on our expedition. I do appreciate Oak Hall trips. They’re fun, well organised, thoughtful, you meet interesting people from all walks of life, the evening talks are stimulating and encouraging, and you go on fascinating excursions.

This morning we headed north for about an hour, skirting round Naples to the bottom of Mt. Vesuvius. When we got to the slopes of Vesuvius, the road changed and became very narrow and on the steep mountainsides, the road switchbacks are very, very tight. If you meet oncoming traffic – which wasn’t many- they have to pull right, right over and stop while the bus squeezes past with barely centimetres to spare. We were all very impressed with his driving. (By the way, if you walk past a row of cars in any street, it is very rare to find a car around here that does not have dings or side swipes!) The trees grew thickly on both sides of the road for a lot of the drive up the mountain.

The black rock you can see below is a lava flow from a “moderate” volcanic eruption that happened in 1976. Two villages were destroyed, but the people had enough warning to escape and no-one was injured or died.

It was half an hour’s drive from the bottom of the mountain to get to the hiking trail where there’s tourist “tat” and portaloos, and the start of the wide, steep, loose, friable lava hiking path up to the crater.

Beautiful wildflowers growing on the sides and the sweet scent of abundant, yellow-flowering broom filled the air. I asked Philip to pick up some tiny pebbles of lava to take back to our grandchildren. He was reluctant – was it stealing? – but there’s no signs anywhere that you can’t do it – and there’s lava everywhere! And as he’s the ex-geography teacher he’d know what to pick up. I didn’t want to just pick up ordinary stones.

My photos don’t show how steep the climb really was. It took between 20 to 30 minutes of steady climbing to reach the crater and then there’s also a track around the rim of the crater for part of the way. A long way down to the bottom of the crater.

There’s just wisps of steam escaping the crater now. But hard to photograph as the clouds came in and we were enveloped in cloud. In the photo below, the lower wispy “cloud” on the right is steam coming out from the rocks of the volcano.

The wisps of clouds danced and dipped as they encountered the edge of one side of the crater, and then the clouds skirted around the crater.

The volcano is constantly monitored all the time for seismic activity, and they’ve also put in conservation efforts for the plants and wildlife.

If you look at the very tip of this photo of the rocks, there’s a falcon. They have a nest in the crater, but my attempted close-up photo of it didn’t work out.

It was fascinating and I loved every minute of it. I bet my legs will feel it tomorrow! The guide at the top of the crater also said that the people of Pompei in 79AD would have died quickly from the volcanic gases before the ash and lava covered them.

When you consider the power of some forces of nature – the huge explosion that volcanoes create, or the strength of tsunami waves or cyclonic winds, we are kidding ourselves or delusional if we think we’re in charge of this world!

Back down the steep path to the bus b which drove us back down the narrow, switchback road to drive on fast freeways to a Basilica in Naples where they’ve uncovered catacombs from 2nd century AD when Christians were being persecuted.

Eating our packed lunches on steps of 20th century Basilica – catacombs underneath. Can you see Philip?

Originally the catacombs started as the tomb of a noble family who provided spaces for the Christians. It’s very cool in the catacombs and the roof is much higher – up to six metres high – than the Roman catacombs because of the type of rock. You can see all the pickaxe marks on the walls and rooves. All the bones were removed in the 1870s and buried elsewhere in Naples. Many of the rock burial spaces are heartbreakingly small – 40% of children did not make it to two years of age.

The catacombs have been used for several centuries, for burials and for worship. Even now there’s a place there where Mass is celebrated. The catacombs are a huge space on two levels with 3,000 burials they’ve found, and they haven’t unearthed it all yet. Frescoes on the walls of the graves of rich people depict who they are. Those further down the social ladder got burial places in the walls or floor.

These frescoes on the ceilings show Adam and Eve. There’s also David and Goliath and favourite saints. All in very fragile condition and conserved properly. They are similar in style and colour to the frescoes in Pompei.

The workers who made the catacombs carved some of the rock walls to make arches to look like a church. They made an altar and carved a baptismal pool out of the rock.

At the end of the tour, the young man who was our guide took us next door to an old 14th century (I think) church with high ceilings and told us such an inspiring story. In the 1980s a young, energetic priest came to the church with a vision to show that this part of Naples could be more than Mafia and criminality. Through his efforts, he’s created a different pathway for some of the young people there, using the church, art and culture. The guide said he’d learnt English as a result and was now gainfully employed as a guide at the catacombs under the Basilica.

Such a fabulous day. Walking in the clouds around the crater and mountainsides. Going underground to hear and see inspiring stories of early Christians who persevered there through such hard, hard times. Hearing the recent story of a priest who’s helped to continue changing lives now and into the future.

Philip has just got back from a walk to a nearby gelato shop for his evening gelato. He took this photo – across the Bay looking at Mt Vesuvius encircled by the lights of Naples/Napoli.

We started the day a bit earlier as the plan was to go by train to Pompei. But a train strike was called – not sure why. But Italian train strikes must be different, in that most trains don’t run, but they do “guarantee” a few scheduled ones. We got on our “scheduled” train, and it was crowded. The good thing is that we arrived at the gates of the Pompei excavations before they opened and were one of the first ones in.

It doesn’t matter how many photos you see about Pompei, or documentaries you watch on it, nothing beats the real experience of being there to see it. That’s like just about everything in life. We can read about things, hear about them, talk about them, but until we’ve experienced them for ourselves, we have a very incomplete, partial or small picture of whatever it is!

Pompei is huge – vast – I think about 170 acres and you certainly can’t see it all. I find that I only have the capacity for a maximum of three hours and then I’ve reached “saturation” point. After that, I’m numb or weary and I don’t take anything further in. So I’ll show you a few photos that I took – and I didn’t take many! You will have already seen lots of photos from other sources already.

It was warmer today and got quite steamy. I didn’t feel well, so after a time, I found a quieter, shady spot under some trees and waited for Philip to finish his explorations. Pompei is one of the major reasons why he wanted to come to Italy, so I was happy for him to take his fill! I sat and watched the many little green lizards – about three inches long – scurry, dart and chase each other among the stones and leaves.

I was glad we got there first thing this morning. By late morning there were crowds of people everywhere, some with tour guides in lots of different languages. I find that very fatiguing.

My favourite tourist spot was the big mosaic on one of the floors of the big houses showing Alexander the Great fighting Darius of Persia. But it wasn’t at a good angle to get a photo – so I didn’t take one. But so many reminders that they were people just going about their normal daily lives when this happened in 74 AD.

Philip walked down the many streets to the very back of the Pompei site and found the huge amphitheatre – like a small coliseum, where they had gladiator fights and chariot races. (The photo below is of a smaller amphitheatre in another spot.)

Pompei was a city of nearly 20,000 people and they had very sophisticated lifestyle. It helps to highlight the “chronological snobbery” we suffer from. A very class-conscious society with huge gulfs between the upper echelons and the slaves at the bottom in the way they lived.

Interesting too, that they’d had previous earthquakes for years and small eruptions. But the city thought they were invincible because they had the protection of the gods even though they lived right beside a volcano. Despite the warnings all around them. Shades of how our world lives these days! We’re all very good at living in denial despite all evidence to the contrary.

These are ghoulish reminders of the human tragedy it was. These had once been living people. I was relieved to discover that the positions they were found in doesn’t mean they died in agony. It’s the muscle contractions after they had died.

One of the people who died was a lady called Drusilla. Part of her earlier story is in the Bible in Acts 12:1-23.

We ate a packed lunch when we were finished and waited near the train station for the next “guaranteed” train at 2 o’clock. This time we were packed in like sardines. Standing on top of one another, cheek by jowl for the journey. Every time we stopped at a station, we would watch people on the platform look in through the windows with their mouths wide open in shock, then start to frantically run up and down the platform trying to find a carriage where they could pack in one more sardine! We were very glad to get to get our destination and walk back to the hotel where we’re staying.

Because it’s summer, the afternoons are long. I decided that this afternoon was probably my best chance of finding time to go for a swim in the Mediterranean Sea. Philip wasn’t interested. So off I set. With no clear idea of where to find a beach or how to get to any beach.

I walked in one direction. The small beaches are far down below at the bottom of the huge, tall cliffs and I couldn’t see any tracks or roads leading down to them. All along the cliff tops are the pastel-coloured three or four storied concrete apartments some with narrow laneways winding around them. I had a very interesting walk, trying to navigate my way. I couldn’t find the path to the beach, but I had an interesting walk.

But after I’d come back to the hotel and asked a fellow Oak Hall traveller where to go, I eventually found it. I would never have found it on my own. Clear signposts are not an important consideration.

The narrow, very cobbled street wound down and around through the houses, then round and down the cliff face covered with tall shrubs and trees. A delightful walk.

When I finally reached the black-sand beach with its sun-lounges, beach umbrellas and piers I tried to walk down to the sand for my much longed-for swim. A red-shirted lifeguard chased me down and jumped in front of me. “Scuzzi, scuzzi, no, no, private beach,” he said. So I mimed that I just wanted to swim – not rent a sun-lounge or go on the jetty or pier – just swim – where I go? With big exaggerated arm gestures and a big smile. I wasn’t going to give in easily without a fight. It had taken me long enough to get there. Even if the water was frigid I was going in!

Then a big smile on his face, “Ok. ok. you swim,” he said. So I did. And thoroughly enjoyed it. The water felt saltier and is probably about the same temperature as Perth water. It was delightful. I thought walking back up to the top of the cliff would do me in, but it was much easier than I anticipated, and I enjoyed the walk back. And here’s the proof!

And now I’ve been to the evening meetings we go to, and the evening meal and it’s time for bed. It’s been a big day, chockablock full of such delightful memories. What a day! Tomorrow it’s Mt Vesuvius and the Naples catacombs. Another big day.

Did you know that it rains in Italy in the summertime? In my stereotyped world I didn’t expect it to rain here – not in the summer. That’s an Italian winter-time thing surely! My visions of an Italian summer are endless days of warm sunshine! It just goes to show how little I know how the world runs!

This morning was a bit cloudy, and after breakfast Philip and I took a Google maps “short-cut” to find where the nearest Post Office is. To post postcards to our grandchildren. Normally I like wandering around to find where I want to go, like a puzzle – it’s much more adventurous that way. But I was running out of time to get it done. Google maps said the Post Office was a couple of streets away. What I love about holidays, or being in a different country is that even everyday things like posting a letter becomes an exploration and adventure. But posting a letter is no longer an “everyday” thing anymore, is it?

I think Post Offices are more like banks here. At the front glass door where you stand, the front, small glass door opens so you step into a four-sided glass “cage” like a small elevator enclosure. I felt like I was going to be whisked up or down a floor or two, even though I could see three tellers straight in front of me inside the building. After a few seconds, the inner glass door now opens so that you can now walk forward into the building. I guess it’s a robbery preventative?? It was easy to mime to the teller serving me that I wanted five stamps for my postcards. The teller walked away back into an inner room behind secured doors to get my stamps and was gone for several minutes. When we left the post office we had to walk again through delayed cage-like glass doors.

We decided to do a bit of a wander around some streets to look at some local life. We found a little public garden with a few basic playground items for children to play in. Some patches of green grass and lots of pruned citrus and olive trees. Lovely to wander through – it wasn’t very big.

We sat under the pergola at the hotel, overlooking the Sea and Mt Vesuvius while I read my book and Philip did some computer things till the rain came. Which surprised me. In my binary brain, I had imagined rain in Italy was only for winter-times!

View from the hotel pergola, looking over to Mt Vesuvius

In the afternoon, there was an optional little expedition for those interested. To ride in a cable car. Philip was NOT interested! I was. By now it was starting to pour steadily with rain. I didn’t bring any wet weather gear, so I borrowed Philip’s, as he wasn’t going to be needing it. And set off with those from our group who were up for it too. There weren’t many of us!

The start of the cable car, with the train tunnel on the right.

A train ride – crowded – to a nearby train station, and the cable car was close by. The clouds were now low-lying, and I could see the cables stretching up to a nearby hill and thought it was a bit tame but didn’t mind. Now we saw the advantage of the rainy day. There were no other tourists interested in the cable car! The nine of us from our Oak Hall group were the only ones in the cable car.

Away we went and I was enjoying the view around me and below me under the cable car. And then we kept going up, up, up. Higher and higher. Much, much higher than I had ever imagined. My ears kept popping as we climbed higher and higher. Way higher!

Right to the top of Faito Mountain which is the highest point of the Amalfi Coast and Sorrento Peninsula – 1,400 metres high. It was fantastic – I loved it. It was an eight-minute ride. So much to look at – around and underneath. If there’s no rain or clouds, apparently the view from the top of the mountain is fantastic. You can see Mount Vesuvius and all round the Bay of Naples.

After the houses and apartment blocks fell away from us, the dark green oak and chestnut trees thickly covered the steep mountain sides beneath us all the way to the top. It is a very long way to the bottom! At the top of the mountain is a slightly faded and dilapidated cafe run by a happy, helpful young woman.

Some of us had a quick walk in the rain through the forest on top of the mountain, through the pine trees on a little track. But the rain started to seep through Philip’s rain jacket and I didn’t bring many changes of clothes, so I made mine a short walk and turned back to the warmth and dry of the cafe. We stayed in the cafe while some of the group drank hot tea or ate cold gelato, chatting together.

Lisa-Rose, our group leader is the lady in the denim jacket facing us.

The ride back down the mountain in the cable car was just as exhilarating. The rain stopped, and I finally managed a photo of Mt Vesuvius. Still only faintly seen in the distance, but more than a vague smudge on the horizon. There was a narrow switchback road we passed over and we saw the driver do a three-point turn to make it round the corner.

We passed over an old stone abandoned (I think) cottage high on the mountain. Very tough work to make a living on that precarious slope. Then we swung down over the apartment blocks and houses. Back to the bottom, and then a train ride back to the hotel. It was fantastic.

While I was away having adventures on the cable car, Philip worked out the practicalities of the next stage of our week in England. Hiring a car is prohibitively expensive, so we’re going to go with mainly buses and manage it that way. Philip worked out how we could do it. He does like finding practical solutions to problems. He also went for a walk around the streets, doing little explorations on his own. We’ve had such a lovely day and know how incredibly blessed we are. As I finish this, I can again hear the church bells pealing – such a comforting and ethereal sound.

Tomorrow is our Pompei day!

I was going to call this one “Great Expectations”. Instead, it’s been a day of “Changing Expectations” today. As I’m typing to you, the room feels like it’s see-sawing a bit – we spent a bit of time on boats on the Mediterranean Sea today – and my brain still thinks it’s on a boat!

After breakfast, our group walked to the nearby train station where our big coach bus was waiting to drive us to nearby Sorrento. The original plan was to take a bus ride around the Amalfi coast to Amalfi. But parts of the road are “not working”, so the plan changed to take a hydrofoil boat on the Sea and ride to Amalfi. Great plan – I love a boat expedition and being on the water. We’re not sure whether that hydrofoil boat broke down, but we stood on the quay in the hot sun for one and a half hours waiting for our ride.

I think Italy is marginally behind India when it comes to disorganised chaos – from my very, very limited experience – but only marginally! There were people crowded everywhere on the quay. I felt for those waiting who are not physically as able as the rest of us. It was very hot and crowded. Eventually we were herded onto a boat – a much smaller ferry-type boat. A very crowded boat. Philip was downstairs and stood the whole journey. I was on the upstairs deck – with the fresh sea breeze and salt spray – where I sat on one butt cheek on a hard, plastic, crowded bench for the long, slow ride. At both Positano and Amalfi, our boat had to bob around in the Sea outside the little harbours, waiting for our turn to tie up at the little quaysides so we could disembark.

The towns on the Amalfi coast have pastel-coloured, stacked houses that tumble down the high, steep, dark-green mountainsides right to the water. The tourist shops crowd around the shoreline and the houses climb behind back up the mountainsides.

No mention on any of our boat rides today of boat safety or emergency protocols. I didn’t see any anyone wearing any life jackets, or see any stashed away. They may be there – I just didn’t see any. It made me laugh a lot, especially when I consider that the smallest boat ride anywhere in Australia or England gets the full boat safety procedures!

We got off the boat eventually at Positano. But because we’d been held up, there was only just enough time to try to find some lunch before we needed to get on the next boat. Not that we needed to stay longer anyway! All these towns are swarming with tourists – swarming – people, people, people everywhere! Long queues at all the food places. Philip finally got himself an apple slice for lunch and I had brought some fruit and a home-made museli bar for me.

Back onto another ferry – a bit bigger this time and not quite so crowded and a shorter trip to Amalfi. It’s a bigger town and port with lots of boats, including some larger ships with cranes and shipping containers on the wharves. Amalfi was one of four powerful Maritime Italian Republics during the Middle Ages (800 – 1100AD) and traded heavily with other countries like the Orient and Northern Africa.

We walked up to the piazza, full of tourist “tat” shops and food shops, including the many ubiquitous lemon sorbet and ice-cream shops. We filled our water bottles – we were very thirsty in the warm sunshine – at the big marble fountain in the centre. Other people were filling up too, so we figured it was probably safe water!

Facing the Piazza was the huge, colourful St. Andrei’s (Andrew) Cathedral. We willingly paid 4 Euros – about $6AUD each to explore this shady, quiet and fascinating place.

There was a basilica here in the 400s, but down through the many centuries and with the changing financial and political fortunes of Amalfi and the changing architectural fashions of buildings, there’s been huge, extensive and expensive alterations.

So much to see – the Cloisters, the Basilica, the Crypt, the Cathedral – far too much to absorb or take in – from so many different eras and histories.

A wonderful place to sit, meditate and think on. St. Andrew’s (the first disciple of Jesus) bones are said to be kept here. But I forgot to notice where – and does it really matter anyway, and the provenance seems very sketchy to me. It’s probably hidden away.

The front door is made of copper cast in Constantinople one thousand years ago.

We were tired when we finished in the Cathedral. It wasn’t the Cathedral that was tiring. In fact, we noticed that in there, even very young people responded instantly to the interiors by whispering and quiet, respectful silences.

But outside – the constant noise and the people… the people… people everywhere! I’ve been surprised at the lack of English-speaking tourists. They’re mainly from continental Europe. We went and people-watched in a shady spot down at the harbour for an hour while we waited for our next boat. (By the way, I’m going to probably need to do a lung-detox when I get back to Perth. So many people smoke! We can’t avoid them.)

I washed my hands and feet in the Sea at Amalfi – first time I’ve able to get onto the “beach”. I’m amazed at how clear and clean the water is – with all the people and boat traffic around.

In this photo, you can see the intense cultivation on the slopes around the housing. Citrus, grapes and olives usually.

We did get a hydrofoil comfortable boat ride on to Salerno and then it was straight onto a bus to bring us back to Vico Equense and the hotel where we’re based. Philip was busy talking to the person next to him on the bus, but that road was built on lots of aqueducts with high narrow columns, hair-pin bends and long tunnels.

Back for a late dinner together. I skipped the evening meeting to write to you, but Philip went to it.

As I’m typing to you, the window of our room is open and there must be a crowd somewhere watching the European soccer match outside together. I could tell you what the Italian score is just by listening to the wild, exuberant cheering! I can hear fireworks popping loudly now! Goodnight!

It’s late in the evening and we have an early start tomorrow morning, so this will be short and sweet tonight. The quickest way is put in lots of photos.

After a buffet breakfast in the hotel, it was a free day. Some of the group were tired after yesterday and elected to stay put and spend most of the day by the hotel pool. Incomprehensible to me, but we’re all different! Some of us went with Lisa-Rose (our group leaderby train to nearby Sorrento. A very dilapidated train crowded with people.

Through two long tunnels burrowing through the mountains and right alongside apartment buildings – three or four storeys high. If there’s any spare land round the buildings, they’re crowded with tall lemon and citrus trees, still clinging onto their yellow fruit, or high tall grape vines draped along huge bamboo poles. They’re so high up I don’t know how they harvest the grapes. When we arrived in Sorrento some of the street trees were orange trees, but too high to pick the fruit.

The photo above was coming into the piazza. There’s lots of tiny streets crammed full of little shops for tourists running off the piazza. Sorrento was heaving with tourists – heaving – both Italian and international tourists.

We walked down narrow streets, looking for a little Christian church that Lisa-Rose had heard about, and it is Sunday today, so thought it would be a great Italian experience for those who wanted it.

When we found it, it was a small church with about 40 welcoming people, the women mostly on one side, the men on the other and the women with lace scarf head coverings on their hair.

Great music with enthusiastic singing. Most of the tunes were recognisable, and as Italian is a mostly phonetic language I (sort-of) sang along. Some of the words I recognised from dim memories of learning Latin syntax in primary school. The pastor preached very loudly (that’s not him in the photo).

Lunch in a cafe in a quieter, smaller street. Philip says the pizzas are amazing, and I really enjoyed a plate of grilled vegetables.

We wandered down to the beach front. From the top of the street, it’s a long way down.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the beaches here! I walked down a steeply sloping, zig-zag path down to the beach (and puffed a lot in going back up!).

Sone of the “beaches” you can’t go to – only for Sorrento residents.

Other beaches you queue (and wait a long time for your turn) and then you pay for the privilege. The beaches are very small and narrow with black, coarse sand and pebbles. Most of the people sit on lounge chairs on piers, stone breakwaters and jettys.

Vesuvius overlooks us all when we’re at the beach!

We saw some beautiful old buildings as we wandered around. This says (I think) it was an old opera house. I took the photo with my hands through iron railings and it’s now an evening restaurant.

I heard church bells but didn’t see any Sunday congregations. This church looked like it was preparing for a wedding and there were still more flowers coming in! It was magnificently beautiful. Probably a “wedding church.”

I really enjoyed the day – a great Italian experience. Exuberant, loud, colourful. But I wouldn’t want to go back to Sorrento. The beautiful pushed down and crushed under the weight of the tacky, the dilapidated, the neglected and the tawdry. And now it’s way past bed-time, so Goodnight!

It’s been a long day, so I’m planning on a short letter to you so I can go to bed soon! Philip and I were up at 4.30 this morning and walked through to Heathrow airport. We waited at the designated spot for our Oak Hall group going to Italy but couldn’t find them. Still not sure where they met. Philip rang the emergency numbers we were given, and eventually found the right contacts and we were rushed through, for which we were very grateful. A smaller plane and a two and half hour flight to Naples. I got a window seat – mostly clouds. But as we flew over the Alps the clouds cleared and I was surprised at their height, and how steep the dark green mountains topped with snow were. They were much more extensive than I’d realised.

From the airport, we had a coach ride for an hour south of Naples on a four-lane highway. Lots of dilapidated two to four storey buildings with laundry or plants on their balconies and lots of weeds and quite a bit of rubbish strewn around. We drove south down the winding coast road, the high, steep, dark green hills tumbling almost straight down into the Mediterranean Sea, with houses and towns perched up and down the steep hillsides. We’re in a mid-range hotel in a town that’s called Vico Equense – it’s between Naples and Sorrento. But all the towns along this coastline seem to run into each other, and I can’t see where one starts and the next begins.

The streets are very crowded with tiny shops, not much bigger than a closet opening straight onto the street. Scooters, motorbikes and small cars whizz by very fast. It is much warmer here and we changed into shorts and sandals.

Our hotel wasn’t ready for our group. We left our ports in the lobby and went off to find pizza for lunch. The pizzas were about half a metre long – enough for several people. I can’t eat pizza, and Philip’s pizza tastebuds aren’t suitable to share with most other people. So I suggested he and I go off to find something else. We found a little shop where Philip bought a bread roll and we asked for one slice of prosciutto cut from one of the huge hams hanging all round the shop for him. I bought a couple of peaches and some figs. I mimed and gesticulated at our needs, and it was fun to be in another language. I guess I could have used Google Translate, but where’s the fun in that?

We walked back to our hotel and ate our lunch at a pergola where you could see the sea in the background between a couple of buildings, and we sat under a huge pergola of wisteria to eat it. The peaches were not quite ripe, but refreshingly tart and juicy. The figs were very disappointingly bland and they were what I was most looking forward to eating. We were there for several hours and chatted to some interesting people from the group when they arrived back from their pizzas.

Our leader, Lisa-Rose a Scottish girl took us for a walking guided tour around our immediate area to help us get our bearings. Here’s Philip at a lookout with Mount Vesuvius in the background.

And here’s a nearby beach where we can go swimming. Swim anyone? I will probably have a swim there later on, just so I can say I’ve done it. Something to tick off my list, but at this stage, it doesn’t look appealing. Coarse black sand and lots of pebbles. There’s a swimming pool here at the hotel that I doubt I’ll use. This photo does show how far down the ocean is though.

We’ve done our laundry and draped it round the bathroom and the room and had our dinner at the hotel. I didn’t think I was a food snob, but I was disappointed with the food – very carb-heavy and not a lot of flavour. But we had some fascinating conversations with people from our group while we ate. I’m now definitely ready for bed and won’t need much rocking to sleep! It’s already been so much fun with new experiences to relish and treasure.

It was a perfect English summer’s morning when I went for a walk first thing this morning – sunny blue skies and warm(ish). I ended up at Totland Beach with its sparkling blue-green sea. But no sand on the beach – or concrete like in nearby Colwell Bay – this beach has big, round stones littered all over the beach instead. Walking back, I met a little boy about three years old walking down the track to the beach with his mother. I chatted to him and he was very excited to have his bathers on and was carrying a little bodyboard. I patronisingly felt rather sorry for him – going to swim in very cold water on a beach of large stones. But kept my thoughts to myself!

Pam and Nathan took us for a wonderful breakfast together in a delightful nearby village. We’ve had such a lovely time with them and enjoy so much our friendship.

Here’s a photo of a thatched church near the breakfast cafe. As a tourist I can’t resist taking photos like this!

To feed my inner “Milly-Molly-Mandy” they drove us to nearby Winkle Street of what looks to me like a quintessential little English village street. I wouldn’t want to live in one, but I do appreciate the history, age and look. Thatched wobbly rooves, low doorways and tiny windows, stone-built and made with such craftsmanship, roses and bright colourful flowers abundantly flaunting their colours in the gardens.

In the clear waters of the bubbling nearby brook a mother duck was busily supervising and fussing with her six newly hatched ducklings. A delight to watch.

On then to nearby (everywhere on the Isle is “nearby”) village of Godshill with its old church from the 1300s, grey weathered grave stones encircling it.

Inside the church there’s lots of memorials of long-gone people. Below is the effigy of Sir John Leigh and his wife Anne. No other details known to me – but God knows them. Do you see the carved skull on the memorial stone next to the stained-glass window? To remind us of the transitory lives we lead.

Nathan drove us into Cowes, crowded with people for the Isle’s Music Festival where Philip and I caught a passenger ferry (this one didn’t take cars) across the Solent to Southampton. A much bigger town and port with huge ocean liners tied up at their docks.

Then a smaller connecting bus that was supposed to take us to the Southampton National Express busport. I’m still not sure why – I couldn’t understand the bus driver’s explanations, but we ended up at the Southampton Train Station instead. The bus driver then pointed us in the right direction for the busport – I’m very glad we don’t have lots of luggage – and we walked till we found the small bus station for National Express.

Only to find that Philip had accidently booked our bus seats to Heathrow for 2am this morning, not 2pm in the afternoon! He was mortified, he doesn’t like making mistakes like that, especially if it’s going to cost more money. But I think it’s all part of the adventure, working out how to figure out the next step when things go awry.

The man at the ticket office was so helpful. Technically we should have bought another lot of tickets because we’d missed our bus, but he said he’d figure it out for us. He had such a delightful Indian sense of humour that had me laughing, but was incomprehensible to Philip – partly because his ears are still blocked from his cold and he isn’t hearing well. And the ticket office man did sort us out. Two people didn’t show up for the bus ride, so we got their seats without paying any extra. To show my gratitude I gave him a Margaret River fudge bar and he was very chuffed.

A huge, modern comfortable bus ride of two and a half hours through mostly green fields, farmlands and huge belts of trees to Heathrow Airport. (Maybe I’m confused but I don’t think that English trees have as many varieties of shades of green that we have in the Australian bushland.) We’re staying at the hotel here at Heathrow in very comfortable rooms. They even have a big bath that we’re going to use tonight. An early night tonight – up at 4.30am tomorrow morning for our Italian adventure!

(IOW stands for Isle of Wight)