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The Perfect Weekend



In what can only be described as the perfect weekend, we somehow found a hostel that was more akin to a private house than anything. Internet access, fully equipped kitchens, and a lovely balcony that looked out over the city of Forio, on the Western side of the island.



My birthday dinner. The girls made an absolutely splendid dinner with all the trimmings. And a cake at the end, which was very thoughtful.




The rich colours of sunset, with Caitlyn and Emma leaning on the railings of the balcony of our hostel.




Nobody could possibly ever believe what it is like to be driven through the "streets" (and I use the term loosely) of Forio on the island of Ischia, by a twenty-two year old Italian who has lived there all his life, and knows the streets much, much better than he knows the back of his hand. This is how wide the streets were. And there is a 90 degree turn to be navigated just behind our backs. Now do that in the pitch black, at thirty-five miles an hour.

Italians are crazy, but do they ever know how to drive.



Our poor, poor bursers. One with two years of engineering under her belt, and the other with a purported high-school calculus credit. They did good work. I take this moment to thank them very, very much for their good work.



Arguably the highlight of our weekend was travelling to the very top of the mountain that is the volcanic island of Ischia. There we encountered Restaurant Olimpi, with a breath-taking view of the whole of Ischia, the Mediterranean, and surounding islands. 5 Euro each for a giant bowl of homegrown, home-made pasta, and another 5 Euro for a litre of delicious local red wine.



Even for us it is difficult to believe that it is real, and that we were just there this past weekend.



Oh well. Two less mouths to feed.



The whole group of us, with one of the two brothers (Lorenzo...Emma's sweetheart....or was that Giuseppe?-one can hardly keep track of them) who ran the hostel with their mother and father and grandparents. Four generations of their family had lived on the island making wine and running a hotel. Mamma makes rather good food.

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The Dude ha detto…
To clarify "Lacy's" comment, he was laughing at what WAS the last picture, until I added the present last one. The last one being the picture of Kaitlyn and Laurel hanging off the edge of the window thingy.

Glad we got that cleared up.

P.S. Who IS Lacy?
9:55 PM
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