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Italian Style
After noticing I awoke in the wrong hostel, I cleaned up and carried on. Around 11am, we walked a hefty trek to town. Before laying out, I bought a much needed cover up. In the store, the sweet Italian woman insisted on taking in my dress.
“I sew with my machine”, she told me. 
 Excited about my new beach wear, I headed down to the shore to lay out with the girls.
Once the sun wore me out I ascended up to town to try out the suggested Vini Panini Wine Shop for lunch. The guides swore that these panini are “life changing”.
During my order, I asked for focaccia, prosciutto… and the man finished my sentence with “mozzarella, tomato, and pesto”
Sounds good to me.
First bite, the sandwich was decent, but definitely not life changing. After the first half, I did not have the will power to savor the rest and finished my lunch in record time.
Somehow still hungry, I went into Paradise Lounge Bar with a few friends. The White Chocolate Nutella gelato caught my eye, so I pointed for a cone. The man simply plopped a ball on top, so I asked if he could “push it down a little bit”. He looked confused and proceeded to add two massive scoops to my cone.
Good deal.
Future Honeymoon
And now, the fun begins.
We lined the dock for a cruise control sailing trip. I let the larger ship pack up to choose a more personal, relaxing speed boat with my new acquaintances.

First stop, a bay suitable for jumping off 15 and 40 foot cliffs. The ten meter never bothered me as a girl, so I headed to the higher summit. I felt so adventurous, searching for crevasses to place my hands and feet. After ten minutes of climbing, I had made it up top.
Sure, the bird’s eye view into the crushing waves was a bit intimidating. But why waste time over analyzing?
Just jump. 
So I jumped.
…And I landed less than gracefully. 
The force slapped the side of my face and chest. I tried brushing off the pain as I laid in the water, avoiding side comments about the previous fail.
Instead of dwelling on my pain, I headed to the lower cliff. The climb felt a little dizzy, but I was ready to flee once I reached the peak. This time, the jump left me vitalized, rather agonized.
During the cruise, we could not get over the view. Looking up, a hotel buried in the mountains and draped in flowers caught our attention. “That is where I’m spending my honeymoon”, I exclaimed.
Coming to a stop, we jumped off the boat and swam into a cave. I stared in awe while some of the kids started yelling and stopping in front of my paddling pathway. Although I was surrounded by a few inadequate swimmers, I didn’t let them kill my vibe. 

Swimming Into the Cave


The cave was majestic. 
Rocks layered above me.
A scene from Hollywood.
Suddenly, I realized I forgot my goggles and swam towards the boat. With only a few minutes to spare, I swam beneath the ark admiring the ocean floor. Though 50 feet below, the vital sea life presence was crystal clear.
Time was up, and we sailed back to the beach. On the way I told my friends, “If I were a psychologist and had a depressed patient, I would send them here, and Positano would cure all”.
I for one was high on life.

Marry Me and Take Me Back


I Didn’t Quit, I Retired
Goggles in hand, I threw on my Xavier cap and swam buoy to buoy. A few yards in, I swam past a school of foot-long fish. First thoughts: “Sharks eat fish“. I figured the odds of a shark anywhere near me was low, so I kept on. After twenty minutes, my mouth parched. The Tyrrhenian Sea is as salty as it is beautiful.

“Aperol Spritz is My Vacation”
I had lost my friends during my swim, but I was ok with that. I shopped around, buying gifts for friends and family. I then reached a gated off bar. With half an hour to kill, I treated myself to a cocktail by the water. The place was empty so I had to wave down the bartender to order my aperol spritz. After a few sips, he asked if I was ok. I smiled and told him I was completely content. I told him I was just here for the day and wanted a little me time. He responded. “O, aperol spritz is your vacation”.
My friends from the boat and I searched around the hotel area of Sorrento for dinner. We ended up walking through the end of a festival, with streets lined with carnival food and vendors. The search continued, and we resorted to a place near our hotels. Service is always slower than in the States, and it is common for dishes to be delivered once ready rather than the table be served as a whole. First, a shared skillet arrived. A few minutes later, two pasta dishes were served. Eventually, Theresa and I asked about our pizzas. The waitress nodded, went into the kitchen, and came back out and told us, “five more minutes”.
Please, you just put our order in.
The table was completely cleared before my pizza came. Good thing my smoked cheese and prosciutto pizza was worth the unnecessary wait. I came close to refuse to pay for my meal given the circumstances, but I didn’t want to be a pain.
Lone Ranger
I had to walk about ten minutes alone to my hostel after saying goodbye to my friends. It was 11:45pm and a bit scary, but I made it back safe. In a wifi zone, I scrolled through my notifications in the lobby. A girl came up to me and asked if I was ok. I just laughed and said I was being lame by checking my phone and accepted her invite to sit at their table. The four girls were friends from college in the US, two studying in Barcelona and the other two in Florence. I gave them a short summary of my story on studying abroad, and they all admired my boldness to travel alone. 
The thing is, you’re never alone if you put yourself out there. 

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One comment

  1. The very heart of your writing while appearing agreeable at first, did not really work very well with me after some time. Someplace throughout the paragraphs you actually were able to make me a believer but only for a while. I still have got a problem with your leaps in assumptions and one might do well to fill in those gaps. If you actually can accomplish that, I could definitely be amazed.

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