"The beach today was fabulous," I thanked our AirBNB host Gioia when she popped by one afternoon to visit us in Sant'Anna Sui Due Golfi.  "Thank you so much for recommending it!"

"Oh, I have another really interesting place for you to visit tomorrow, if you don't mind climbing a lot of steps."

"Steps?"

"Yes," she smiled, and handed me a small white wicker basket.  "Steps! Before I tell you about this beach here are some fresh cherries grown in our garden.  They are for you and your children."

"Wow!" I gasped, pulling back the cloth on top of the basket to reveal a small mountain of plump, fragrant cherries clustered together.  Instantly I could feel my mouth begin to water.  The deep scarlet stone fruits rested gently against the edges of the white basket; each supple cherry beckoning almost sensually.  

"Grazie mille!  We love cherries!  They will make a perfect summer dessert tonight."

"Si," she nodded happily.  "We grow very nice cherries here. We are very happy to share them with your family!"

Gioia sat down at our circular table for a moment. "The place I recommend to you now requires some effort. You must hike along a trail and then down many steps to find. It is called Marina Di Crapolla. Look, I will show you on the map. You can walk to Crapolla from here, or you can drive your car to Torca and park it near to the start of the trail."

"How long is the walk?"

"From the parking area in Torca the walk to the beach is between forty minutes and an hour... including the steps."

"You said we can walk there from here?  From this apartment?"

"Yes, it is possible.  It will take longer though.  You may find that your children are too tired to attempt the steps, if you walk from here."

"What about these steps?" I pressed her eagerly. "Please tell me about them. They sound interesting and challenging!"

"Yes!" Gioia smiled widely.  "They are very old. There are nearly 700 of them!"

"Seven hundred? Wow!"

"It's not so bad when you are going down the steps," she nodded.  "But make sure you save some energy for when you would like to come back up!  It may take a long time for your children. It is worthwhile though, the views are very beautiful and there will not be many tourists around.  Crapolla is a little beach that Italian people go to, with their families."

"It sounds very special," I beamed at Gioia.  "What a fun challenge! I will tell my husband all about it.  I'm sure he will want to go there too!"

Sure enough, Señor Aventura was immediately intrigued by the news of Crapolla Beach and definitely eager to tackle this new opportunity.  "I really like heading to these smaller, secluded beaches that are away from the bigger cities," he grinned.  "Should we bring the kayak?"

"I think we should probably save the kayak for another day," I shook my head. "There are apparently something like 700 steps to climb down to get there, and we'll have to climb them again to get back to the car.  That might be tough to do with an inflatable kayak and oars."

"Good point."  

The next morning Señor Aventura rounded up the children while I packed us a good picnic lunch full of sandwiches, chips, fruit and a lot of water.  A LOT of water!  The weather forecast had called for another very hot, sunny day along the Amalfi Coast.

"Remember, there is nothing there," Gioia had confided.  "No shops, no food, no fresh water.  No bathrooms. You will need to bring everything with you that you will need while you are there."  Heeding her advice I packed water and even toilet paper, plus any small thing the kids might need.

"Let's drive," my husband decided, having just returned from a morning bike ride in the already-hot weather. "That way the children will still be reasonably fresh at the beach when we arrive and ready to have fun exploring."

Equipped with backpacks, nets to collect rocks and beach glass, towels and ample sunscreen, we happily hopped into the car, drove to Torca, found a parking space (not an easy feat in such a small town on such a beautiful day!) and began our long descent to Marina de Crapolla.

At first, the path toward the beach led through part of a neighborhood of Torca.

We passed by the back yards of many single family homes and peeked at their beautiful vegetable and fruit gardens.
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After a while we found we were hiking on a trail right next to the edge of a vast ravine.  It was thickly wooded but you could tell from the sharp edge of the slope that it must go down a very long way.  

"Why don't we walk closer to the other side of the path?" I smiled and took Little Angel's hand.  She skipped merrily along.

We continued walking for fifteen minutes or so. Then, just as I wondered how far the thickly forested part of the trail might last, we caught a glimpse of something new.  A deep blue, stretching endlessly toward the horizon!
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Encouraged, we began to move more quickly.  Surely the steps to the beach could not be far away now!  The boys raced ahead, eager to discover new things.
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Abruptly we found ourselves turning down the trail toward the actual stairs.  They were wide, made of stone, and seemed in very good condition... especially when compared with other ancient trails we'd taken recently.

"Look, Mommy!" Little Angel squeezed my arm.  "I see islands!"

We began to descend the stairs.  At first it seemed quite easy, and we laughed and chatted along the path.  Really, the only catch was that there was no railing to hold onto and nothing to prevent us from falling down the side of the very steep mountain if we accidentally tripped.  The walking itself was very peaceful.  

"Dad?" Out of nowhere we heard a small voice coming from below, beyond where we could see.  "Mom?"  

It was The Scientist calling, our eldest child.

"Yes?  We're up here!" we called back to him.  "You guys okay?"

"I'm waiting for you," his voice came back faintly.  "But I don't know where Soccer Dude has gone!  I can't see him anywhere!"

My heart skipped a beat, as I pictured my 10 year old (who had chosen to hike in flip flops) racing down the stone steps and perhaps tripping somehow.  Could he have fallen over the edge?

"I'll go check it out," Señor Aventura told us, and swiftly he too was out of sight.

"I'm sure Soccer Dude will be fine, Mommy," Little Angel assured me.  "Isn't it just a beautiful day?"  She stopped hiking steps long enough to wrap her arms around my waist.  
"Thanks." I hugged her back. "Your brother is quite an adventurous boy, isn't he?  Let's keep going! I'd like to find our guys so we can all hike together."

We continued to descend, a bit more quickly now.  The views were beyond spectacular!

"Do you think anyone lives on that island out there, Mommy?" Little Angel asked me.  "I see lots of boats and it looks like there is even a house there!"

"That's a good question," I answered, wondering what kind of Italian billionaire might own an island off the Amalfi Coast. "That would be a fun place to live, wouldn't it?  Pretty hard to get your groceries though... you'd have to take a boat to the market!"

Little Angel giggled at the thought of us crossing the sea to buy milk or eggs.  

Continuing down the steps and heading around the corner we came across a view so perfect, I had to stop for a moment just to take it in.

"Look!  It's another tower like the one we saw in the Baia di Ieranto!" Little Angel declared.  

"It's amazing!" I agreed.  "I see more islands out there, too!"

"Mommy, I think we are getting closer to the beach.  I can see the boats in the water more clearly now. I think that's it, just around the corner!"

Excitedly we pushed forward.
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"Do you see your dad or your brothers down there?" I asked, stopping to fix my shoe.

"Not yet, but I think I can hear them!" Little Angel began to hop on one foot, waiting for me.  
"Look at those old stone buildings down there," I pointed and began to walk again.  "I wonder what they are.  Do people live down there?  I thought Gioia said there was nothing there."

"Let's investigate!"  Little Angel cheered and began to skip down the final steps.  

Happily the first thing we discovered when we arrived at the tiny beach was the rest of our family.  Both of my sons were already in the water splashing and playing, and my husband was just putting on his swimming goggles. 

"Hey there!" he smiled. "Good to see you ladies!  The boys are both fine."

Spreading out a thin purple towel I began to look around.  In addition to the handful of ancient, ruined stone buildings behind us I also admired the steep mountain we'd just climbed down.  That ravine I'd noticed at the top, by the side of the forested path, was even deeper and narrower than I'd imagined!
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"I wonder what this place was," Señor Aventura remarked.  "Whatever it was has been abandoned now."

We later learned that the Marina di Crapolla was once a Roman port that was used actively by fisherman and also to bring supplies to the luxurious Roman villas on the nearby islands of Isca and Le Galli.  The sea level 2,000 years ago was a few meters lower, and the beach at that time was much larger than it is today.  It made a good stopping off point on the Amalfi Coast, so that sailors didn't have to go all the way to Surrentum (Sorrento) for supplies. 

The pebble beach is now actually quite small... and perhaps due to the shadows of the high cliffs, the marina itself felt quite narrow, even for swimming.  Here is what our view to the Mediterranean Sea looked like from the shore of Crapolla beach:
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We'd been sweating profusely in the hot sun just minutes earlier, desperate for a dip in the sea.  Ironically, the tall cliffs provided so much shade to the beach that we soon felt a chilly breeze and I actually covered myself up with another towel while watching the kids swim!

Sadly, the water around the pebble beach on the day when we visited was not super clean.  Perhaps because it is an isolated area, plastic trash and other refuse washes up and is not attended to.  I thought wistfully about the simple, useful garbage bins decorating the isolated yet pristine beach of El Golfet at home on the Costa Brava.  

"Don't swim near all of the floating trash near the sides of the cliffs," we instructed the children.  

"Okay!"  They moved over closer to the sunnier, cleaner side of the marina and continued to play.
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My husband went for a swim to explore the craggy cliffs up close, and perhaps catch a closer glimpse of the island of Isca.  

I waded and contemplated going for a swim, but the water was icy cold and the floating trash nearby was honestly a turn-off.  Finally I settled down to enjoy people-watching and dreaming about the intriguing, abandoned stone buildings sleeping around us.

After a while the entire family came in from the water to eat our picnic.

"This beach is pretty cool," The Scientist said, "But I think I liked the one yesterday at Baia di Ieranto better."  

"Yeah, me too," agreed Soccer Dude.  

"I'm interested in this place," added Señor Aventura.  "I'd like to learn more about it!"

"I'm cold," said Little Angel, snuggling up to my side in her wet bathing suit. "Can we go home soon?"

My husband and I exchanged a glance.  We knew it would be a long walk back up those 700 steps, and our eight year old daughter seemed tired already.  

"Sure.  Let's enjoy this just a bit longer and then we can head back up."
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Despite the relative darkness of the beach, out in the water the sun was shining brightly. Elegant motor boats full of laughing women in bikinis and Italian men wearing speedos and gold chains came into the marina briefly and then departed again, pop music from their radios wafting to shore on the breeze.

"Those smaller boats look like they must be coming from some of the larger yachts anchored out there," I pointed toward white dots in the sea near the islands.  

"Could be!"

"I wonder what those islands are like up close?  It would be fun to check out an island!" exclaimed The Scientist.

"Well, we'll be heading to the island of Capri in a few days.  So that will give us a taste!"

After about an hour spent playing frisbee and searching for water creatures with the nets, we packed up all of our towels and drank more water before beginning the long climb back to the car.  Our load felt significantly lighter, since we'd eaten up our lunch and finished off at least half of our fresh water.
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Slowly but surely, Little Angel and I made the ascent... again falling far behind the rest of our menfolk who had scampered right up the steps like agile mountain goats. 

She and I found ourselves once again hiking in the full heat of the Sun, and paused every so often for another sip of water or simply to catch our breath.  
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We marked our progress with the tiles placed every 100 steps, letting us know how much further we had to go to make it back to step number one.

Little Angel had caught a second wind. "Even though that beach was a little small and cold, Mommy," she chattered away, "I am really glad we went there.  It's so pretty out today, don't you think?  These steps are really big and I'm proud that I am climbing them all by myself!  This is hard work!"

Wiping sweat from my forehead I smiled at my lovely, determined daughter and turned to take one last look at the island of Isca, just to the right of Marina di Crapolla.  Its lush vegetation adorned the Amalfi Coast like an emerald jewel.  
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Little Angel was right.  What a magnificent view, well worth the effort!
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For me riding along the winding, treacherous cliff-side road to Positano along the Amalfi Coast is a lot like flying in an airplane.  I spend almost the entire time praying and gripping the car's passenger seat so hard that my knuckles turn white... every once in awhile forcing myself to look out the window, gasp at the view, and say - "Oh wow, it's SO beautiful down there!" 

I've been to Positano three times as an adult.  It's like this every time. 

Yet despite my deep-seated fears I force myself to journey the narrow roads and to fly anyway because I cannot stand the idea of staying home and NOT seeing Positano, of staying in my safe little house and NOT seeing the world.

(Have I mentioned its stunning limestone cliffs yet?  Did I mention that they rise literally thousands of feet above sea level?  Did I tell you already that the only thing between your car and hurtling to an instant death is a thin metal railing?)  
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Good thing my husband, Señor Aventura, is a rockstar superhuman driver.  Seriously, the guy has skills!  He can turn on a dime, drive through the fiercest of storms without batting an eyelash, and still be telling cheerful jokes as he maneuvers us safely through the hairiest of situations.  The man is tough as nails. He could have driven for NASCAR, in my book.  I would drive with him anywhere.

Which includes, it turns out, Positano!

"Why don't you take some photos," Señor Aventura suggested as we began the one hour drive from Sant'Agata Sui Due Golfi.  "It might take your mind off of the drive."

This was a good suggestion. He knows that my love of beauty is even stronger than my fear of heights.

​Here for your viewing pleasure, then, I give to you the fruit of an hour's worth of "Oh my goodness, I can't look!" moments - some of which were pretty hard to breathe through for a person with vertigo. The photos aren't bad considering they were snapped from a moving car by a lady fighting against a panic attack!

As you'll see, the vistas from the road are absolutely spectacular.  What a way to start the day!
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Taking photos was a good idea! It truly was a positive distraction. Almost before I knew it, an hour had passed and Señor Aventura had deftly pulled our car over to park along the side of a verrrrrrrrrrrry narrow road overlooking the mountainside town.  

"Mommy, I'm really hungry!" announced Little Angel, unbuckling her seat belt.

"Me too," chimed in Soccer Dude.

"Me three," agreed The Scientist.

"I could eat," nodded my husband.

So, off we went in search of lunch!  The air outside of the car was very hot and as we descended staircase after staircase toward the sea, we found ourselves sweating.

Positano is a lovely, unique Italian town that may once have been a fishing village but thrives now thanks mainly to tourism, so there are no shortage of good restaurants for travelers there to choose from.  I felt confident that we would probably be fine eating just about anywhere.

On our way down the main path, we encountered a wedding at the beautifully restored church.  "What a good omen!" I murmured quietly. "Congratulations!"
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We continued to descend the stairs and a sign caught my eye for a restaurant called 'Le Tre Sorelle,' or 'The Three Sisters.'  This name sounded promising, and we later learned that the name does indeed come from an original Neapolitan pizza restaurant at this location run by a family of older sisters. 

The current restaurant is run by a gentleman named Luigi and his seasoned staff. It's very popular with travelers and locals alike.  

"Let's try it, Mom!" the kids cheered, and encouraged me to ask for a table.  

​We had a good experience ordering, using our broken Italian and big smiles.  The waiter who took our order was extremely warm, friendly and patient with us.  Thankfully our linguistic gymnastics paid off!  Our food arrived quickly and it was delicious.  
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After lunch we decided to digest by taking a walk along the shoreline and going for a swim.  The hot weather left us aching to dive into the brilliant, sparkling Mediterranean just a few yards away.  

That said, the main beach was so crowded!  Wall-to-wall people lined the shorefront directly opposite our restaurant. 

"Let's find somewhere a little more remote to swim," suggested my husband.  We all agreed with this plan and began to follow him as he led confidently toward the path on the right. 

Señor Aventura walks very quickly (at all times he has only one speed: GO GO GO!) so within what felt like seconds we'd traversed what felt like half of the town and found ourselves facing a very elegant hotel beach club.  

Hotel Pupetto has a remarkable location! Its beach club, filled with cheery orange umbrellas, unfolds across Positano's pebbly shores toward the bright horizon.  Lovely!

Señor Aventura purchased some beverages at the hotel beach club and then maneuvered us a bit to the right of the organized area, into an open zone with no beach chairs or umbrellas.  The Aventura children ducked into their bathing suits behind a group of rocks and hurried straight into the water with their dad, who was eager for a swim.

I lingered for a while on the pebble beach, observing an Eastern European mother and her two little sons playing in the water next to us.  Watching mothers parent in other languages and cultural traditions never ceases to intrigue me.  In this case, her sons were throwing large large rocks right at each other and she was scolding them in something that sounded a bit like Russian.  I smiled quietly to myself, thinking that raising kids around the world is not all that different.

After a few minutes though, I was more than ready to join Little Angel in the water.  The temperature was so high outside, I felt a great need to drink water and swim in it.  Luckily, the translucent water around Positano did not disappoint!  It was extremely clean and absolutely clear.  You could see straight down to the sea floor with ease.
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The water felt wonderfully cool and delicious against our skin.  We were bathed in the type of heat that dries your hair, bathing suit and towels within minutes of leaving the water... so over the next hour or two we varied our routine between swimming and drying out, and then swimming some more.

The Scientist and Soccer Dude went adventuring with their dad out to the side of the rocky cliff in the distance, investigating.  They found and entered a cave along the side of the cliff and saw that it had a door in it, likely to reach the house above set into the side of the mountain. Amazing!

Little Angel built towers and castles of stones, skipped tiny pebbles into the water and swam like a fish with her pink net, looking for underwater treasure.  

I pretended to read and finally dropped the pretense, closing my eyes and listening to the soothing sound of the surf.  It reminded me of my childhood on Sunset Cliffs in San Diego.  I felt at home.

Without warning though, the weather began to change.  A large, dark cloud floated across the sky and hovered over where we'd been swimming and sleeping.  It actually had a nefarious feel to it; much like Voldemort or his Death Eaters suddenly descending upon a previously sunny and vibrant day and sucking out all of the joy.  One side of the beach remained bright and warm; but our half turned gray and dark.  In a cool and interesting way, it was a little creepy.
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"We should probably head back to the car," Señor Aventura decided, and so we began to pack up.  As much fun as we'd been having, we knew it would be uphill (literally) all the way back to where we'd started.

It didn't take much walking though to get away from the dark cloud and re-emerge into the glorious sunshine.  Our hike back to the base of the village was actually quite breathtaking!
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Along our journey back up to the car we made one last stop; a pilgrimage of sorts.  

You see, over thirteen years ago handsome Señor Aventura and I had spent a little time in Positano.  We had taken a trip to the Amalfi Coast right before we got engaged, and it was a special time for us... young and in love, so excited for the future.

One night in particular we´d sat at the base of a set of stone steps, and despite the chilly March air, we´d played chess there under the moonlight for hours.  Listening to the waves crash on the beach nearby and laughing with my favorite guy as we honed our strategy with rooks and knights, I knew we were experiencing a special moment I would never forget.

Sure enough, the memory of that night has nestled sweetly in our brains ever since. We wanted to share this unique spot with our children, returning with them to the steps where perhaps our destiny was once sealed with a kiss.

We don't have any photos of that first night so long ago, alone on the stairs in the dark evening... just the memory of it. This time however, we'd brought along not one but three amateur photographers!  

Despite the hordes of tourists descending the steps around us, it meant the world to have our now seventh-grader take our picture flanked by his brother and sister.

​We'd come full circle in Positano; an unspoken promise made years ago now kept with a swim and a smile.

The red bricks of the balcony feel warm beneath my feet, even though the air around my shoulders is growing cool.  These bricks soaked up the full heat of the day and are now transferring just a bit of its magic now into my bare skin.  Tiny mosquitoes are starting to swarm around me.  I am very popular with mosquitoes, it seems.  I must smell like one delicious dinner!  Still, despite the whirring onslaught I’ll stay out just a bit longer to enjoy the eventide. 

In front of me, an ancient ruined fortress rises strikingly from the lake not far from the seaside town of Cannero Rivera.  Tonight its ruins host a thin crane rising like a toothpick from their midst. (Are the Borromeo's remodeling after all this time?) That modern mechanical innovation appears fragile and delicate standing next to the thick, roughly hewn stone walls.  ​
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So that is a lucky thing. 

Our little Aventura family of five is here together and at time of writing we are all healthy and reasonably contented.  That is a blessing too!
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Rushing... rushing... always rushing.
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​Over the past six weeks we've traveled by car from Catalunya to the south of Italy (I still have AT LEAST nine blog posts to make about our visits to Pompeii, Herculaneum, Positano and all of the special beaches on the Amalfi coast... along with three nights in Tuscany outside of San Gimignano, two evenings in Cannes and more. I'll be rolling those out over the coming weeks and months.)  

Then like a flash, we were back to Barcelona where The Scientist's closest friend came to visit with his fantastic family and we bonded with all of them instantly.  The reunion of these two special guys deserves a poignant (future) retelling of its very own. 

Over the course of six days we showed them the highlights of Catalunya, including Montserrat and the Costa Brava.  Their visit flew by too quickly!  

Now we are back by the lake, our favorite lake in the world... for a relaxing and inexpensive stay.  Today we have no plans.

We have no plans!  WE HAVE NO PLANS! What an amazing thing to say and mean.  

For the next few days we will revel in the emptiness, the blank space in the family calendar.  We can do anything or nothing.  We can take a boat, swim or sleep.  We bought about twelve books while in Milan and if we feel like it, we can spend all day on the shore reading.  (I picked up "Big Magic" by Elizabeth Gilbert, while The Scientist snagged "Freakonomics".) What bliss!  We can eat when we are hungry and play games when we are bored.  We.Can.Do.Anything!!!
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The rest of us will hike and swim, play frisbee and smashball and eat homemade Italian food.  Have I mentioned I've gained at least five pounds since we started our travels in Italy a month ago?  I've definitely been enjoying time with three of my 'closest' friends (heehee!) - Pasta, Gelato and Vino. ​
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In about ten days the whirlwind will begin again... more travels, more beloved friends from home visiting Spain, a quick trans-Atlantic flight to NYC, and more non-stop excitement. (We may or may not be allowed to leave Spain in August for our upcoming trip to Athens... you need special permission to travel during a visa renewal process.)

What a blessed life we are living, especially during the summer when we can hop into the car and drive to France, Italy, and really anywhere we'd like.  I look into the mirror each day and see ever-more white hair and deeper lines in my forehead; but also a big broad smile and eyes that are fully alive. 
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