My previous blog referenced a failed attempt to visit Portofino, an insanely picturesque fishing village on the Italian Riviera. Cinzia knew I had dreamed of visiting Portofino, and in my mind’s eye, I’d be hobnobbing with a veritable ‘who’s who’ of the fashion and textile industry from Milan. On this momentous day, I was told we’d have a ‘little walk’ from where we’d parked in the village of San Rocco di Camogli, which would culminate in arriving at one of my dream destinations!
It was a stunning day—clear blue skies but HOT (not my favorite element). I was dressed casually yet smart, driving moccasins, simple shoulder bag, and white tee (at least it started that way!). I was sure to check with Cinzia about my attire for this ‘little walk’ so that I was appropriately turned out. “Just a simple walk,” she confirmed. OK! It was a family day, so we were together with her husband Lorenzo and their two sons, who were about 5 and 7 years old at the time.
We’re strolling toward Portofino (or so I thought) on a very nice path. The mood was getting kind of tense. Cinzia and Lorenzo were speaking in Italian only (unusual when we were all together), and I knew the gig was up. Apparently, we zigged when we should have zagged and were now on an expert trail, which was going to require some extreme effort—and probably a completely different kind of garb than I was wearing—and CERTAINLY NOT A SHOULDER BAG. Did I mention it was HOT?!?
The kids were now smelling something in the area that I wasn’t picking up. I asked Cinzia, and reluctantly, she told me that they smelled wild boar… and I’m thinking all I wanted was a damn spritz in Portofino! OK… still on the trail, but the woods were getting denser. We were unhappy, had no water, and it was nearly 100 degrees—no cloud cover, no sunscreen—and my head was throbbing. We had just rounded a projection on the side of a mountain (sheer rock), where we, one at a time, held onto a chain link embedded into said rock to round this outcropping. My shoulder bag was handed to Lorenzo, who had safely made it around, and Cinzia was still on ‘my side’ for support (mostly emotional!). The kids were crying, tempers flaring, but we made it around the point, which was about 150 feet or so above the Mediterranean!
I wasn’t sure what was in store for us, but Cinzia realized we were near a little inlet where she could get water and bring it back to us—trust me, Cinzia was the fittest among us and still is! Lorenzo and I were literally lying on the ground trying to find some shade. He turned to me and asked if I thought Berlusconi (Prime Minister of Italy at the time) would send helicopters for us. We erupted in laughter!! We were sweaty, hot, thirsty, and essentially lying in dirt! We heard Cinzia—she was back with water and was giving the kids strict instructions before handing it to them. I asked her what THAT was all about—she said she was warning them that the water was very cold and to be careful. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I nearly died and frankly didn’t know whether to consume my water or pour it on my head! Italians have a propensity for drinking things at room temperature… yeah, yeah, I know—a shock to the system!
This tiny inlet was now in sight through the woods… we got down to the ‘beach’—completely rocky, just to add ‘insult to injury’ or ‘injury to injury.’ We immediately kicked off our shoes and waded in the water, though for not nearly for enough time, before we were advised the last boat of the evening would be leaving-IMMEDIATELY! Lucky for us, there was room, and we boated back to San Rocco. As we approached a cliff, I saw that we’d have to climb about eight flights of stairs to get to the place where the car was parked… seems this was the ‘cherry on top’! We piled in, and as expected, it was a quiet ride back to my hotel.
Not sure what the hotel staff could have possibly thought as I walked in—certifiably dirty and haggard from the day’s jaunt—but by this point, I was simply thrilled that I survived to tell the story! Cinzia and I have laughed SO MANY times recounting the trials and tribulations of that day, and as anyone who has traveled knows—you learn to expect the unexpected and prepare for ANYTHING! As many times as I’ve been to Italy since, I have still not made it to Portofino.
People in my travel circle know I’m the one (NOW) with a survival kit (even for strictly urban jaunts). It only took one time being caught ‘without’ before I took measures into my own hands! Regularly armed with travel-size EVERYTHING, I am the ‘go-to’ for minor emergency needs and assure you that when you travel with Kefi Tours on small group tours to Italy, although we may encounter unexpected surprises, we will be sure to meet them safely and with good humor!!
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