Separate Ways

The day began with a stunning display of clouds on the hills overlooking Ravello. What a beautiful place this is! 

We all went over to the hotel nearby and had breakfast with Ann and Stephan. I discovered yesterday that I had left a notebook with all of my reservations and other essential information in some previous hotel. After calling around a bit, we learned that we had left it in Sorrento. Ann and Stephan volunteered to drive to Sorrento to get it for us. They insisted that this would be no problem — just an opportunity to give Ann a chance to see more of Italy. I asked if they would mind some company so I could spend more time with them and they readily agreed. So, just after breakfast, the three of us piled into Stephan’s Smart car and off we went.

Meanwhile, John Pratt and Rebecca walked around Ravello and bit and did some posing. 

But then, somewhat to her protective uncle’s dismay, Rebecca announced she wanted to rent a Vespa and ride around the Amalfi Coast. All John could say was “Please be careful.” As the day progressed, our telephones chimed with pictures and texts from Rebecca as she was riding around. 

I really do not want to know how she took this picture.

I would rather just concentrate on the pretty pictures she took and give thanks to my Savior that she returned alive. 

Meanwhile, back in the land of sane people, John went to look at the gardens of the Villa Rufolo. This grand old home — and by old, of course, I am talking early medieval — became some Brit’s enormous vacation cottage, and all kinds of artsy people including Richard Wagner stayed there for a while. Apparently he was so taken by the ruins on the estate that it inspired him to write a whole section of Parsifal. 

This bit of history encouraged the city fathers of Ravello to start a music festival. It was initially devoted to the music of Wagner but has since expanded its focus to all kinds of music. John found the main stage and its pretty decent location! 

He also learned that there would be a ballet version of Tristan and Isolde later this that evening and bought us all tickets for it. 

Meanwhile, Ann, Stephan, and I had a pleasant drive to Sorrento. I showed them a bit of the town and we picked up my folder from Hotel Regina. The ever-helpful Antonino suggested a restaurant by the dock, and the three of us lunch by the port.

After lunch, we came back inland route to Ravello. It was much faster. Rebecca was not yet back, so John and I went exploring. As some of you know, John will have a 34 year anniversary tomorrow and this sign reminded him of what he does not plan to do today. 

We came across a strange little church built into the cliff. It reminded me a lot of the caves of the Basilian monks we had seen last year in Puglia. At any rate, the cave was dark and the only reason you can see the paintings on the wall of this sanctuary of stone is the result of a good flash on my camera and Abode Lightroom. 

Instead of showing me the Villa Rufolo, John decided to look for the other grand home in town, the Villa Cimbrone. And we were glad we found this place. It has wonderful garden walks. 

 There are elegant small buildings

 and a sweet little tea room. 

 

 

There is sculpture everywhere

 

 

and John delighted in taking pictures of it. 

 

 

The old house was converted into a hotel many years ago, and some famous people have stayed there. John was really impressed when he learned that Greta Garbo had used this as a love nest during her relationship with Leopold Stokowski. 

 

 

In the evening we met up with Rebecca and went to the performance of Tristan. This was an odd but interesting show. It was not the Wagner opera although it used all of the major instrumental moments of the opera. Instead of being sung, the story was danced by two members of the Paris ballet. They also used projections for some special effects and to create the feeling of a close up. 

 

 

All of us were pretty appalled by the audience behavior. In just about any American theater taking photographs, particularly with flash, during the performance, would have you ejected immediately. It seemed like many in the audience spent most of their time taking pictures and immediately posting them to Facebook or Instagram for their friends. We took the above shot during a curtain call.

 

Tomorrow, we go back to Naples.