Samhain - Thinking on the history of witchcraft

One of the things I like about the darker months is waking up and spending a bit of time just enjoying the cosiness of lying in bed in the dark and quiet, especially when the heating starts to come on. I recently replaced some threadbare bedlinen with a 'brushed cotton' set, which is very cosy. It's 5:30am and I've not been able to get back to sleep since waking up two hours ago.

Samhain was yesterday. Halloween, All Hallows Eve, or - as I recently saw it named - just Hallows. I didn't feel well in the afternoon and got an early night after watching The Great British Bake Off so I'll watch Practical Magic (and have a sausage, apple, and potato bake for dinner followed by pumpkin pie) tonight instead. Traditional Irish Samhain celebrations would last over a few days anyway. And I did thoroughly enjoy a drag queen musical parody of Hocus Pocus last week, in a room full of LGBTQ+ folks and witchy types.

Samhain is partly about the ancestors and those who have gone before, so something I wanted to do this year was light a candle for and think about the people accused of witchcraft over the centuries.

I recently went to Colchester to visit my friend and, on a tour of the Castle Museum, found out that it was the base used by Witchfinder General Matthew Hopkins to imprison and interrogate people accused of witchcraft between 1644 and 1647. The museum still has a couple of ancient gaol (jail) cells, tucked away in a corner of the ground floor at the end of a corridor. There are thick wooden doors with iron bars and ancient carvings made by the prisoners. There are no windows, no fresh air, and it's utterly dark until the motion sensors pick up your entrance and suddenly a light blooms slowly in one of the cells, starting a narrated story of some of the things that happened there. One of the hundreds accused of witchcraft and imprisoned there was a girl of just 15. It's a creepy place even with the lights on.

I've heard the term Witchfinder General before but knew nothing more until recently; I didn't realise it was a job title, albeit self-proclaimed, of a real person. Hopkins was a witch-hunter, and treated witch-hunting as a military campaign, hence the title he gave himself. He wasn't employed by Parliament but took it upon himself, and charged the towns for his services, making it a lucrative business. He even wrote a book on his methods, which were then used in the American colonies. You could say that East Anglia in the mid-1640s is the English Salem when it comes to witch trials, in terms of the high numbers of accusations and executions (over 100 hangings) in such a short time. Hopkins was also young, doing all of this before dying aged 27.

I've recently read the two prequels to the novel Practical Magic, on which my favourite spooky-season film is based, so have learned a little bit more about the Salem Witch Trials too. I read a history book on them several years ago but have forgotten most of it. I do remember thinking it was all just utterly bonkers. But in the medieval and early modern period people fully believed in the reality and evil of witchcraft and the Devil. Essex and East Anglia was a hotbed of witchcraft accusations in the 1640s; nearly 50 years later another Essex County on the other side of the Atlantic was the location of the most famous witch hunt in the world. The Salem trials of 1692-3, in which over 200 people were accused and 20 hanged or tortured to death, was a mass hysteria with a range of possible causes including collective fear over attacks from indigenous tribes, eating bread made from rye infected with a certain fungus from which LSD is derived, bird-borne sleeping sickness, sleep paralysis, as well as jealousy, spite, and attention-seeking. One of the leading prosecutors, now infamous for not repenting of his actions when the trials were later scrutinised, was called John Hathorne. Nathaniel Hawthorne, author of The Scarlet Letter, deliberately added a 'w' to his surname to distance himself from his great-great-grandfather.

In England alone hundreds of people were hanged for witchcraft between the 15th and 18th centuries. Scotland was even worse, with nearly 4000 people being accused over 200 years; 84% of those were women, and two-thirds of the accused were convicted and killed. In Europe and British America, the numbers were in the tens of thousands. Even today in some parts of the world people are still accused of witchcraft in a serious way. The vast majority of those accused were women. Many were poor and vulnerable. All of them were innocent. While many today happily and proudly call themselves a witch, not one of those tens of thousands accused was a witch. The deeds of which they were accused were and are impossible. They were ordinary people. Some governments, including Scotland, Catalonia, Massachusetts, and Connecticut, have issued apologies and pardons to those historically accused or convicted of witchcraft. So yeah, I want to remember them.

...Apologies if all that was a little dark! On a lighter note, Colchester Castle Museum is really interesting. It's the largest Norman castle anywhere in Europe. This is because it was built on the foundations of the Roman Temple of Claudius, the emperor who decided to invade Britain. On the guided tour - I highly recommend paying a few extra pounds to do it - they take you down to the foundations... it's so cool to see something made 2000 years ago so closely (and touch it!), and to learn how they did it. They also show you a model of the temple so you can see how huge it was in relation to a person, and take you up to the roof via the widest stone spiral staircase in Europe. And of course East Anglia is where Boudicca, queen of the Iceni, led over 200,000 troops in her revolt against the Romans, destroying Camulodunum (now Colchester) and laying siege to the temple.

On an entirely unrelated note, I went with my family went to see the ABBA Voyage concert on Sunday, which was amazing. The holograms are very realistic, it's incredible what technology can do now. While of course I enjoyed the music it was more about the experience, I spent most of the time marvelling at the visuals. Recommend.

Happy Samhain from me and my funny little black cat. Lastly, if you're not already bored, here are some things I wrote last year and just didn't publish...

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8th September 2022 - It's definitely a week for staying indoors. Save for the odd sunny spell, grey clouds loom almost constantly, heavy with droplets of water that could turn into a downpour at any moment. Which they have, frequently.

Much of my time has been spent working on job applications, but - inspired by some 'cottagecore' / slow living vlogs on YouTube that I've recently started watching, namely The Cottage Fairy - I've made it more pleasant and cosy by putting Classic FM on in the background, wearing long skirts with leggings underneath rather than my unsightly baggy old trackies, and lighting candles :) And blankets of course, but those are my constant companion on all but the hottest days anyway.

Moods fluctuate, and perhaps I would just be feeling more positive this week anyway - but the extra cosiness and comfort is nice.

Note to self: Making oneself a bowl of porridge at 11:30 because you're hungry is much better than snacking on a couple of shortbread biscuits because you feel it's too close to lunchtime to have something more substantial. Nothing wrong with having something more lunch-like at 3pm when you're hungry again. Do this more often.

5th October 2022 - Super windy today with heavy grey clouds. I've postponed my walking to the shop till tomorrow, when it's meant to be calmer and sunnier. On Monday I finally thought of a use for a glass box that has been stored away in a cardboard box since moving here two years ago - I've put my 'natural curios' in it, things like conkers and acorns and small cones. I've put it next to the vase of dried grasses I picked on a walk a few weeks ago. I still need to find something to store my fossils from Charmouth in, though, I'd rather not fill up my entire windowsill with rocks.

As Anne Shirely said, "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers!" 

Land Skills Fair 2023

In July I went to a festival called the Land Skills Fair, near Cirencester. It was organised by the Landworkers' Alliance, a movement of farmers, growers, foresters, and land-based workers, centered around land, food, and climate justice. My forester friend went to it the previous two years and has often told me I should go, so this year I did. 

(FYI this is a long post covering the whole long weekend, estimated 15 minutes reading time, so please do read it in chunks and come back to it if that's more digestible! It's broken up into days, and hopefully isn't too boring :) )

It's not a 'mainstream' festival. One of the speakers described it as a 'gathering of earth-honouring folk' - forestry workers, growers, regenerative/agroecological farmers, other land-based workers and aspiring ones, supporters, activists, weavers, dyers, storytellers, tanners, potters, tinkers, crafters, writers, singers, drummers, foragers, herbalists, educators, cooks, brewers, painters...... You get the picture.

We arrived on Thursday afternoon to give us time to set up tents before the Opening Ceremony. People gathered around the fire pit in the middle of the main arena, one of the LWA founders gave a passionate speech, a land justice worker gave a traditional welcome and blessing from her Yoruba faith, and everyone was led in a song: Cry, heart, but do not break / Your love is needed for the days to come / Cry hope, and then cry freedom / Cry justice till the work be done

Afterwards I bought a lamb souvlaki with tzatziki in pitta for dinner, from an organic free-range farm stall that had info boards up about exactly how the lamb was raised, and ate that (getting very messy fingers) standing around with my friends and new acquaintances listening to their conversation. Autism makes joining in difficult. Eventually we went to the little woodland venue for songs around the fire, where I stayed for a while before heading to the campsite.

Friday

Honestly, I didn't enjoy Friday and Saturday very much. The talks I chose to go to weren't what I hoped or expected them to be, some were more discussion sessions when I wanted to learn and be taught. I do wish I'd chosen differently and gone to other things instead.

'Valuing the work you do' - I'm not really sure why I thought this would be about finding ways to care about the work you do, which is something I've struggled with for much of my working life. Of course, this was a festival full of people who have actively chosen and are passionate about the work they do, many of them freelancers of sorts, so this talk was about money and figuring out a monetary value for your work so you can charge accordingly and afford to live. While it was interesting, and good for many people there, and of course it was great to see such an open conversation about what is often a taboo subject, it wasn't really relevant to me, although I suppose it's a good thing to bear in mind for the future in case I take a freelance route one day. But yeah, I could have gone instead to a talk on reforesting a sacred mountain in Colombia through community agroforestry, a practical session on processing acorns into flour, or on a guided tour of the farm.

'Landwork as a spiritual practice' - This began with a grounding breathwork meditation, connecting the self to earth and sky. We were asked what came up for us emotionally during that. I often feel perplexed by such questions as my alexithymia means I'm rarely able to answer with anything other that a wide-eyed shrug of 'nothing/I don't know'. What I did feel was that I wished I could be more open and feel connected and like I belong. Maybe I'm overthinking and that's still an answer. Anyway, then we split into smaller discussion groups to talk about the three questions the speaker posed: what does spirituality mean to you, can landwork be spiritual, and what do you need in your life/work to support you developing your spirituality? My group talked about the last question, and I quickly realised I didn't really know the answer to the first question but it was too late to move groups. 

There was a little moment of connection, though. After sitting listening to everyone else, eventually I and another silent observer in the group were asked if we had any thoughts. I can't remember exactly what I said but it was something like I would need to know what spirituality means to me, to see examples of what land-based spirituality is for others, that I don't have many examples of spiritual people in my life or a community I'm part of, that even there among people who love the land I still felt on the outside and that I didn't quite belong. I opened up a little and that group of strangers held space for that, they received my ramblings with open hearts and quite sincerely thanked me for sharing and allowing that little moment of connection to be created. They reassured me that I did belong, that I do have a place even if I don't know what it is yet.

Lunch - In addition to several food stalls, there was a big main eating marquee catered by Two Trees Catering of Bristol. They had catered at the one-day Green Scythe Fair I went to in June so I knew the food was really good. Lunch was brown rice with roast butternut squash, greens, wakame (seaweed), tempeh (fermented soybean 'cake'), pickled onion, and a miso-tahini dressing.

'Rituals for Life' - led by Isla Macleod, ceremonialist, activist, healer. I went to this because I'd like a sense of spirituality and sacredness in my life and like the idea of regular or occasional rituals of some kind rooted in the natural world and seasons. We made prayer sticks from a pointed hazel stick and 3 different colours of thread. You wind the first thread around the stick at the pointed end, with prayers for yourself. The second/middle thread is prayers for your community, friends, family, etc. The third thread at the flat end of the stick is for the web of life and non-living beings. It's quite a nice little mindless activity. When everyone had finished we stood in a circle and planted the sticks in the ground, after asking permission of the earth and the plants and creatures that live in the soil. What I did take away from this was that prayers aren't just asking for things - they can be a wish, an asking, gratitude, or just an openess to receiving whatever might be coming your way. I'd like to read the speaker's book, which goes into a lot more detail about crafting rituals for life.

'Learning from nature to transform our relationship with death' - Personal stories from and discussion with a burial shroud maker, a willow coffin weaver, a doula (someone who helps people with transitional times in life such as birth and death), and an ethical butcher and tanner. It was definitely interesting, and great to see so many people turn up to a talk about a subject generally avoided. Again, I was expecting more talking from the speakers and less audience discussion, and didn't really take much away from it, but many other people were deeply moved and benefitted from it.

'3 short films: Tales of forgotten crafts' - My first visit to the Green Room, an actual building connected to the farm shop and cafe a short walk away from the main festival area, used through the year for week-long residential visits for city children who may have never been into the countryside before. I'm passionate about traditional skills and ancient crafts so this was screening was a must. The films were about a chair-maker, a silversmithing training centre in Scotland, a printmaker, and a teapot-maker in Kashmir.

Film screening - There was a family-friendly film screening in the Green Room each evening. On Friday the audience was only a couple of adults so we decided to forgo Antz in favour of a documentary on Netflix called The Biggest Little Farm, which was great, a beautiful film about a couple who decide to leave Los Angeles for a 200+ acre barren farm and transform it into a richly biodiverse haven where they work in partnership with nature.

It was late by the time the film finished so when I went back to the main arena I just had a snack from my own supplies rather than buy dinner. The band in the Music Tent sounded good so I stood at the back listening to them for the rest of their set before heading to the campsite.

Saturday

I joined in the dance session on arriving in the main arena on Saturday morning, which I'm glad I did. It was just half an hour of simple steps to African-inspired music, but definitely a good way to start any day. I was the second person to join in but gradually more people turned up.

I wasn't sure which talk to go to after that. There weren't any details on the content, just titles. When the one I initially poked my head into, on the topic of common land, broke into discussion groups a few moments after I arrived, I left and went to one called 'Stockfree organic: farming for the future', but that turned out to be a talk on a particular way of farming without any animal inputs at all. It was interesting, but not for me, but I was too self-conscious to get up and leave, especially as I didn't know what else to go to and it had started raining.

After that I went to one that I had immediately decided I wanted to go to upon seeing the programme a couple of weeks beforehand - 'Finding a more authentic relationship with land in Britain and Ireland, through ancestry, craft, ceremony, and song'. The tent was packed full with maybe a couple of hundred people, and it was interesting - particularly hearing from a member of the Irish Traveller community - but, sadly, once again it wasn't exactly what I was hoping for and I couldn't really relate, couldn't pick out anything I could take away and start doing in my life. I wish I'd gone instead to a talk on the history of revolutionary folk songs followed by one on 'turning unused urban land into edible ecosystems'.

Lunch was caponata with a warm cornbread-like thing made from chickpea flour, and salad. On a cold rainy day I was sad to find that caponata is served cold/room temp, not hot, but it was still delicious.

After lunch I sat in on the beginning of a talk on 'Migrant experience and action against a hostile environment' before leaving for the 2pm willow basket weaving workshop. Something I've wanted to try for ages! It's trickier than it looks. I couldn't quite get my head around the first technique the instructor showed us, but as we moved higher up the basket we could switch to the simple forward-back weave which was much easier. My basket ended up being a little lopsided as I was concentrating on the weave rather than making sure the sides were a nice shape as I went, but it still turned out well! :)

After the workshop I headed to the Green Room, where I ended up quite happily staying for the rest of the afternoon and evening. First was a talk on a land revolution in South America, followed by 'Growing food among the diasporic community of Hong Kongers' by a young woman from Hong Kong living in Bristol and working to help her community grow familiar vegetables from back home. The family film screening was at 7pm and this time some families with children did turn up; we watched an animated fantasy film called The Secret of Kells, which was really good.

I did go and get some dinner in the main arena after that, a paratha with dahl from the Indian food stall. It was still raining so the eating area under an open-sided tarp was quite full and I sat on the edge getting sprayed with rain. Sadly (but unsurprisingly given the late hour) the dahl wasn't warm anymore, but the paratha - a flatbread made with potato and onion - was lovely and warm and was tasty on its own as well as with the dahl and tangy yoghurt. After eating I went to the Music Tent as the band sounded good, and again stayed there till they finished. I don't like being wet and muddy though, and my tent was small and cramped, so I got quite irritated trying to get out of my wet weather gear and into pyjamas.

Sunday

Thankfully, I really enjoyed Sunday. The improvement in weather definitely helped, it was dry and sunny but I still wore my wellies and waterproof trousers around as the paths were extremely muddy. I spent the morning in the Green Room for talks around environmental education which were really interesting. 

'Transforming the education system' - Notes - Really good education should be transformative. "If we want children to flourish, to become truly empowered, let us allow them to love the earth before we ask them to save it." Solutions are already in place, we don't need to put energy into new ideas; find out what's already going on and how we can connect and support and work together - be like mycellium. Environmental / ecological education is often seen as 'extra', an add-on to the mainstream curriculum, or an optional extracurricular activity done outside of classroom hours. Need to bring awareness of Earth/nature being interconnected. Focus on school year 7/8/9 when they are starting to talk about employability, need to open up awareness of practical work and that it isn't mindless work but a different sort of intelligence. Mainstream education system is a product of industrial needs, is linear, reductionist, knowledge-centered. Need to widen circles of awareness and compassion. What do I have to offer, how can my skills/talents be of service? Need to educate young people wholly, to be whole beings who are curious and think critically, help them thrive, empower. Schools could have a 'Nature' teacher as well as Maths, English, Science, Languages, etc. - embody working in environmental skills as a real thing. Teach outside, in all weathers.

'Food systems learning in Higher Education' by Fatma Sabet of the University of Exeter - Notes - She organises annual visits to a local agroecological farm for different groups of students studying things like business, sports science/sustainable nutrition, biosciences. She acts as a "more knowledgeable other", not an expert like the farmer but knows more than the students and can facilitate. Agroecological farms optimise ecological processes while minimising impact. Food systems education means experiencing the system from production to consumption. Visits include a tractor-trailer ride around the farm, stopping at different fields to pick crops and do walk-and-talks. Lunch includes the veg harvested, then students help with a farm task that needs extra hands. Authentic task in authentic setting with authentic people and encounters - embodied learning, transformative learning, knowledge exchange can be a transformative power. The students see how much work is needed to give plants the best chance. The trips are good for the farmers and academics as well as the students - they have sparked curiosity and questioned their practices and how they can improve. Food systems education needs to be interdisciplinary and multi-skillset.

For lunch I had booked a ticket for the Sunday Feast, where people sit down at the same time on the long tables and eat a three-course meal together. The food was great, brought out on platters that were then shared between the table: antipasti, followed by slow-roasted lamb (or aubergine parmigiana for vegetarians/vegans) with veg and potatoes, with a selection of mini cakes for dessert. I was sat with two other people who were there on their own so we had a nice conversation. I hadn't seen my friends since Thursday night as we'd all been off doing different things and were camped in different areas, so it was nice to talk to people. One of them mentioned she'd been to the 'processing acorns into flour' session the day before and there was another one in the main arena after lunch, so we both went to that afterwards.

Putting a few handfuls of dry acorns into a bag and smashing it on the ground repeatedly to break the shells was good fun. And sitting in a circle around a pile of acorns removing the broken husks and the skin from the nuts, doing something with your hands that was fairly mindless and meditative after two days of taking in information, was really nice. The acorn flour they had in a jar smelled amazing, and the sourdough bread made with acorn flour tasted good - I definitely want to have a go at making them.

After about 45 minutes I left that to see if the drop-in cordage workshop was still ongoing (via the bar for a nettle lemonade, which was interesting but nice). Happily it was still going, and I spent half an hour or so sitting in another circle making cordage (string) from natural plant fibres of plantain and iris. Much easier than willow weaving, haha. I've already collected some ribwort plantain stems from the garden and hung them to dry; once they've dried, I can briefly rehydrate them to practice making cordage. I had to leave eventually to go and pack my tent up as I was getting picked up from the farm shop at 4:30pm. I stopped at one last tent on the way to look through the gorgeous wall of brightly-coloured British-wool socks made using natural plant dyes. It was a glorious rainbow of cheerful colour and promised cosy feet. They had sold out of the bright blue socks dyed with woad, but for some reason I was fixated on the woad so, rather than a lovely pair of autumnal-red socks dyed with madder, I chose a bright green pair dyed with woad and apple wood. Maybe it was just that I've heard of woad and love apples and orchards, and have only recently heard of madder. My overthinking autistic brain is a mystery sometimes.

I'm really glad I enjoyed Sunday, and was finally able to have a go at some ancient traditional skills that I've wanted to try for ages. I'd go to the festival again, and similar ones, it's all about things I'd love to learn more about and is a passionate community I'd like to be part of.

Amalfi Coast, Aug 2022 - Day 4

See previous posts for Day 1, Day 2, and Day 3.

Sunday 9th

My sister wasn't feeling well, so I went to Amalfi by myself. I got a seat by a window on the ferry so could look out at the coastline, which was certainly impressive and beautiful. At one point there was an enormous cave halfway up the hillside which dwarfed the huge block of a hotel in front of it. 

Amalfi is a slighty larger town than Positano, and of course very pretty. Finding myself in the Piazza del Duomo I climbed the 62 steps up to the cathedral complex to get out of the heat. The original 9th-century church adjoining the current 10th-century cathedral is now the diocesan museum, and of course both are architecturally lovely and varied, with elements from a range of styles like Norman and Byzantine.

The cloister was gorgeous, a little white-walled Arab-influenced oasis filled with palm trees and low topiary hedges. Ancient painted frescoes and decorative mosaics are still visible on the museum walls to varying degrees, stunningly colourful, and holes in walls and gratings in the floor offer glimpses of the changes over the centuries. In the nave of the 9th-century church is an exhibition of diocesan treasures including bejewelled gold chalices, mitres, crucifixes, reliquary heads, and creepy medieval wooden statues of holy figures. The cathedral's impressive crypt holds what is believed to be the relics of St Andrew.

After resting in the cool, peaceful cathedral for a while I left in search of lunch. Hunger, heat, and tiredness meant my already-poor decision-making skills were virtually non-existent and after wandering up and down the same street once or twice I ended up getting a pizza topped with smoked mozzarella, anchovies, capers, lemon peel, and olive oil. I was intrigued by the lemon, but it was a silly choice which I immediately regretted, both getting a takeaway pizza in a busy town where there was clearly nowhere to sit to eat it, and getting something with such strong flavours. I ate it crouched down in the shade at a street corner, balancing the pizza box on my knees. I quite liked the lemon zest on it. But I definitely should have got a cone of fried fish instead.

After that disappointment I treated myself to a giant lemon sorbet served inside a giant Amalfi lemon. Which was lovely and refreshing! (But a lot for one person, haha.) The crates of giant lemons everywhere and shops full of the same colourful lemon-decorated ceramics (which were very pretty and I regret not buying something) made me realise that although there's a quaint feel to these places and things, it's still all mass-produced on a huge scale. I also bought a pastry from a bakery before heading to the marina for the 3pm ferry back to Positano.

My sister was feeling a bit better and met me at the beach, where we stayed for a couple of hours. We were due to do a sunset boat trip for our last night, but an enormous thunderstorm hit shortly before departure so that was cancelled. We, along with a hundred other people taken by surprise on the beach, sheltered under an archway just behind the beach and waited for it to pass. It didn't. After probably an hour the lightning, wind, and rain eased off slightly and we decided to go. We were already soaked through and shivering from the wind, so climbing the steep steps back up the cliff to the hotel would at least warm us up.

When the rain stopped we went back to Caffe Positano for dinner. I wanted comfort food so ordered spaghetti and meatballs.

I left for Naples the next morning, too early for breakfast at the hotel so I bought a few pastries at the airport. My sister went to Amalfi for a few hours before an evening flight to continue her European adventure. The heat and busyness of a tourist hotspot in August meant the trip wasn't what we'd hoped, but it was still a really lovely gift and I enjoyed getting away to Italy for a few days with my sister, seeing all the beautiful scenery and picturesque towns, eating yummy food, and swimming in the sea.

Amalfi Coast, Aug 2022 - Day 3

See Italy August 2022 - Day 1, and Amalfi Coast, Aug 2022 - Day 2.

Monday 8th

Slightly different breakfast than ordered, got rusks and jam instead of muesli, and the orange juice was orange squash, but still got yoghurt and fruit. Left just after 8:30 to catch the ferry to Capri. No information at marina so we didn't know we were at the front of the wrong line until the ferry arrived. 

Got to Capri then got in line for the first available boat tour around the island. Really nice, good to be out on the water with the wind and to see the island that way, gorgeous place. Wished we could get off and swim in the lovely blue water. Was meant to be 2hrs but didn't stop at Blue Grotto so actually was only 1hr. Couldn't face idea of being on land and exploring in the heat so waited in the shade on the pier for next Blue Grotto trip.

The Blue Grotto is a sea cave, illuminated blue by sunlight passing through an underwater cavity. It's only accessible through a small gap just large enough for a rowing boat containing four passengers (who have to lie flat to get through the gap). So we waited outside for over an hour, along with a dozen other boats crammed with people. One passenger on our boat started having a go at the skipper demanding he take us back to port because we hadn't been informed of the long wait time and his girlfriend was becoming unwell from the heat. Parts of the boat were shaded, others not. The skipper argued back and refused to move but the couple and several other people who had had enough were eventually moved onto another boat that was heading back to port. We stayed as we'd rather be on water than on land. You have to pay to go into the Blue Grotto and when our turn finally came the skipper of that small 4-person boat would only accept cash, and we only had enough for one of us so my sister went in. Ten minutes later she was back out again and shortly afterwards we were on our way back to the marina.

After that experience we went to the first cafe we saw for some lunch. And then the one next door for some much-needed gelato before the ferry back to Positano. It's a shame it was so darn hot, as we didn't get to explore Capri at all.

For dinner we found Ristorante Mediterraneo, a short walk down the road. It didn't have much of a view, but did have a singing guitarist walking round entertaining diners with typical Italian music. The chefs in the open kitchen would occasionally join in. I ordered a dish of black-and-white pasta ribbons with fish and lemon zest, which was nice, and then a chocolate almond cake for dessert.

I ended up buying a gorgeous but expensive dress in a shop we passed on the way back. (It's too long and needs taking up so I haven't worn it since...) We had a little bit more of a wander and I bought a homemade lemon-orange-mandarin gelato from a little place down the street. Yum!

Amalfi Coast, Aug 2022 - Day 2

See Amalfi Coast, Aug 2022 - Day 1.

Sunday 7th

We have breakfast at the hotel then make the short walk to the train station for a shuttle service to Positano. The driver was intense. Lucky I checked my phone, as he wanted to leave earlier than the time on the instructions.

Good views on 2hr drive, including Vesuvio just outside the city and then the coast, Sorrento, and the hills. The four other people in the taxi were two couples who both happened to be from Pittsburgh and were going to the same wedding in Positano. 

Arrived, were a little early to check in but waited in hotel bar area for half an hour. Bar area was a lovely terrace/balcony with sea views - beautiful!

The hotel, as with most buildings along the Amalfi Coast, was cliffside, and so had stunning views. When we were let into our room it had a terrace/balcony looking out to sea, which was absolutely gorgeous.

After resting in our room/balcony a while we took a walk down to the beach. Steep cliffside path with lots of steps! The town looked pretty but it was too hot to want to explore away from the waterfront, even in the shade. We got caesar salads for lunch at a restaurant slightly back from the beach; the bread basket they brought out contained these delicious breadstick-like loops flavoured with fennel seeds, which I later found out are called tarallini (and you can get them in Waitrose, yay). After lunch we ended up going into another restaurant-bar at the other end of the beachfront to get out of the sun and try to cool down with a smoothie. Then decided to sit on the beach for a while and go for a swim. Most of it was private or covered in expensive sunloungers to rent, but there was a small area at one end open for free, which was of course very busy with people sitting on towels and in the sea cooling down. The sand was black from volcanic rock.

Cooling down was much needed in 30-degree heat. Even with a breeze off the water we quickly became grossly sweaty. The part of the beach we were on was right next to the marina, and the area of water available to swim in was a triangle between the boats and the private section of the beach. It was very busy and very noisy and very very hot, so not particularly relaxing, but having not sat on a beach or gone swimming (especially abroad) for a long time that aspect of it was nice.

Next door to our hotel was Ristorante Caffe Positano, which had a small terrace with one of the best views in town. Happily there was a table on the terrace available when we turned up, perfect. We both ordered fish, and a side of grilled vegetables, and enjoyed a tasty meal gazing out over the sea as the sun set and the lights of the town and the boats came on. For dessert I ordered a creamy lemon cake, and my sister ordered tiramisu.