Lucy's Trip to Italy: Had A Great Time
Apr 15th, 2002, 10:40 AM
#22
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Hi, I am here, I was in Carlsbad, Ca. this weekend. Well, it was him in Positano, so we had wine and sat outside at the restaurant, then walked up and down the streets and I tried on clothes and he came in the stores with me and helped me pick out clothes and sandals. He didn't even get impatient, but of course everyone is on good behavior early in a relationship, as we "matured" people know by now. The next day we went to Capri, it is wonderful too. After we got off the funicular by the square, we had cafe and sweets then walked on the pathway to see Faraglioni, the rocks off shore. We strolled the long, and I mean long, way and stopped at a little cafe built into a cave with outdoor seating with a wonderful view of the sea. Then took the steps down to a pathway that winds around the island, past a natural rock bridge and further on you get a close up view of the rocks. It is a secluded path and we met only one other couple, then when you think it will go on forever you are back in town, kind of like life. Oh, yes, the couple we met were topless sunbathing on some rocks by the path. Sweet. Anyway, we wandered too long and missed the last boat back so we decided to stay on Capri, since it is so beautiful and romantic it surely wasn't a hardship, but now the question of where (and how) to stay. More later, if you want. "Ciao".
Apr 15th, 2002, 01:14 PM
#25
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Well, now the question is where to stay? So he says he knows friends that live on Capri and he will call them, so he pulls out his cell and starts chatting in rapid Italian. I am sitting on a bench when I begin to wonder if this is a part of a plot. I thought back to when we met, how he came to Positano, how we got to Capri and now are overnighting on Capri. It all fits in too perfectly. (I have seen many movies and read many novels, as you can tell). I don’t have much money, if that is what he wants, no wealthy family to pay ransom money, but how would he know? No reason to kill me really, unless just for kicks. How many others has he killed and thrown off the cliffs like Tiburus did? He did get animated when he told me the story of Tiburus’ wild parties in his cliffside Capri villa, that he would toss people off the cliff as the climax of the revelry. He couldn’t want me as a s.x slave, he would surely pick someone younger. Maybe he hated his mother and murders women who look like her….. All this in a few minutes time. And I would be staying in a villa with him and his conspirators, I mean friends? (I will leave you with this and be back after work, PDT.)
Apr 15th, 2002, 03:13 PM
#31
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I am sitting there getting a little nervous, it is getting dark and absolutely no one knows where I am, and I am on an island in the Mediterranean with an almost complete stranger. All I know about him is what he has told me. He made a few calls, and was disappointed to find that his friends were not on the island, but we could get the keys from a caretaker and stay there anyway. Well, the red light and the red flag went before my eyes, and I said I would be more comfortable in my own room in a hotel. Just remember, I didn’t have anything with me, just a sweater and handbag, reality set in and I could picture myself with him w/o deodorant, nightgown, slippers, curling iron, etc. and on the first night. And then the Tiburus thing. Nope. No way. I need my props. If I can’t vision myself doing something, I don’t do it. He was understanding, we did a little shopping for necessities and found rooms (2) in a small hotel off the covered walkway, with wonderful views. We had a lovely late dinner, then went to our rooms. The next morning. hair in a pony tail and wearing newly sink-washed clothes we had a continental breakfast and took an early ferry back to Positano. I needed some time alone at this point, to regroup, so we didn’t meet again until dinner at Villa Franca. Wonderful place, designer perfect, great food and views of twinkling lights. <BR><BR>(Off I go to movie: "Cat's Meow" now, I will check back tomorrow to see what the consensus is)
Apr 16th, 2002, 09:23 AM
#38
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The next day we took a ride in his car, a convertible. I didn't tell him I was afraid of heights, I couldn't get my breath long enough to get the words out. The cliffs overhang the sea with a narrow road that turns one way and then another with not much of a railing. I had on a scarf that was trailing into the wind, then I remembered Isadora Duncan, so I tied it under my chin, Jackie0-ish. He was driving like a real Italian, gunning it and I have to admit taking the curves smoothly. Since it was a weekday, and it was fairly early in the morning, there was not much traffic, just an occasional tourist that he would pass on the wrong side of the road and one tractor. When we on the side of the tractor, he and the farmer exchanged a few words and gestures in Italian and the driver waved us by with another gesture. We were literally sailing on the road headed to Almafi. Just as we neared Almafi, his cell phone rang. Using one hand on the wheel, he talked and laughed (a little too much) to whoever was on the phone. OK, ok, hang up, Giancarlo. (I am thinking) if I am going over the cliff it will be with your full attention, not on the phone with the mysterious "someone else". A woman of experience knows when a man is talking to a woman he is intimate with. He was scolding, laughing, and slowed down the car. When he caught my eye, he patted me on the and and winked. Why did she call on my day with him? Who is she anyway? My heart dropped, I stared at the sea. Why didn't I sleep with him, have I been attentive enough, am I a cold fish, why didn't I take more Italian classes? Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the side mirror, instead of looking like Jackie 0, I looked like Mother Hubbard. Gasp. I took off the scarf and stuffed it in my bag. What can I do to get back his attention in Almafi?
Apr 16th, 2002, 09:46 AM
#40
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Hey, I thought a troll lives under a bridge, I live in surbubia. Anyway....<BR>We drove into Almafi, he finished up on the phone, patted me on the hand again, I picked up my bag and my heart and we walked into town. We stopped in a little café for café and sweets again. My mind was racing, I have to be witty, I have to get him back. My witticims before with him have fallen flat, he takes the English language literally, and doesn’t get the nuances of my wit. I watched him order for us, his muscles tensed under his white shirt as he hung up his leather jacket . Muscles she has seen and felt. I can’t compete with another woman who is with him in town. I have only a few more days with him then back to America. I am starting to shrink, I am losing my nerve and my confidence. I feel like Katherine Hepburn stuttering and clutching her blouse in The African Queen. I am the uptight American. I am the one who analyzes every relationship, she is earthy, lives for the moment. I am the minuet she is the tarentella. I choked down the food and we walked through town in near silence. This isn’t how the day started out, it can’t end this way, I grabbed his hand and played with his fingers, his bracelet. I had to laugh to myself at my sudden lack of confidence. As we walked he suddenly turned, took me in his arms and said “tonight, I go back to Roma”, “for business, my clients are calling”.
