Walking with the Gods

Today is the big day. Out of all the activities we have planned I am most looking forward to today. We will be hiking Sentiero degli dei, the Path of the Gods. In the early days the villages along the Amalfi coast were only accessible by sea and so the cliffs were an isolated, mysterious place. Given their relative unknown and the destructive power of Mt Vesuvius it is not hard to understand why early inhabitants would believe the Gods dwelled there. The path was officially named in the 1800s by the Italian historian Giustino Fortunato. It was officially conquered by myself and Jenna in October, 2014.

The beginning of the Path of the Gods

The Path of the Gods begins in Santa Maria di Castello but can also be accessed from Praiano and Bomerano. It is divided into two parts: the "high" path and the "low" path. We hiked the latter though its name is a relative term. The path winds along towering cliffs offering a view of the sparkling blue sea below and the tiny villages that dot the coastline. While the path began in the village of Bomerano our journey truly began in Positano.

Getting to Bomerano is no small feat especially for flustered American tourists. We had gone over the general idea with Mario the day before. We'd catch the 10:00AM ferry from Positano to Amalfi and then the 12:30PM bus from Amalfi to Bomerano. The ferry pier in Positano is just across the Saggio Grande from our hotel. After another multi-cultural breakfast (Jenna's plate piled high with fresh mozzarella, tomato, and proiscuitto and mine with eggs and bacon) we walked to the pier, purchased two ferry tickets, and sat on the stone rail waiting for the boat.

Our adventure began with a ferry to Amalfi

While waiting for the ferry a shaggy little dog arrived and darted around the pier. He had no leash and apparently no owner. One by one he began to claim everything on the pier as his own. First he peed on the stone railing where we sat. Mine. Next he peed on the metal flag pole nearby. Also mine. He peed on the wooden bench near the ticket window. Just so you know, that's mine. Finally he peed in the center of the pier and then darted off into the crowds from where he came.

Our ferry finally arrived and we were soon cruising along the Amalfi coast. From the sea the coast is truly breath taking. There are houses and hotels all along the green hillsides. Most sit in clumps along the shoreline but a few enterprising structures are scattered perilously along the highest cliffs. We'd soon swap perspectives and join those on the cliffs looking down at the ferries carving paths of white froth in the sapphire sea. After the short ride we docked at the town of Amalfi and thus began our greatest test: locating the bus to Bomerano.

See you in Amalfi!

Amalfi is one of the main hubs for transportation to other seaside villages. From Amalfi it seemed that one could board a SITA bus to any town ending with the letter "I": Minori, Majori, Atrani, Maiori, Conca Dei Marini, Chiunzi, Pagani, Cava De Tirreni. We had two hours to kill in Amalfi and most of that time was spent attempting to confirm where our bus would be located. We started at the ticket counter where the Italian clerk immediately asked: "Bomerano, Path of the Gods?". Apparently we stood out from the regular commuter traffic. Instead we were the quintessential bushy-tailed American tourists out for a jaunt through the Italian hillside.

We were given two nondescript red tickets and sent out into the square where 20 or 30 equally nondescript buses were lined up. Dodging scooters, cars, and buses we attempted to locate a SITA bus employee. "Scusi, scusi" we'd say, pathetically holding out our tickets in hopes he would take mercy and point us in the right direction. Unfortunately the farther we got from Positano the gruffer the Italians became. Our first few attempts were met mostly with grunts and gestures towards the long line of buses. While waiting in one line that looked promising we met Doug and Cammy, an American couple from South Carolina, who were also planning to hike the Path of the Gods. Now with strength in numbers we split up and spread out, each of us searching for the storied bus to Bomerano that we were beginning to suspect existed only in legend.

Anyone going to Bomerano?

Doug yelled and waived us over. He had located the bus but the doors were closed and the driver was inching into traffic. It was full. Every seat was taken and even the aisle was packed. As our hearts began to sink we heard someone yell "Bomerano, Bomerano". Apparently there was a second bus also about to depart. This bus was only slightly less crowded so the four of us squeezed into the aisle towards the front. The bus was full of middle school aged kids all smirking, laughing, and playing unrecognizable Italian games on their smart phones. They were doubled up two and three to a seat and we had people bumping and jostling us the whole ride. And what a ride it was.

I have ridden subways before in Boston and DC and I know they can be bumpy and that you have to hold the rails to keep upright. This bus to Bomerano was a whole new level of bumpy. Our shaggy haired Italian bus driver was apparently in a rush because he treated each corner of the winding Amalfi coastal road like a race at Le Mans. "Honk, honk" went the bus at each curve, apparently to warn any oncoming scooters of their impending death. I quickly tossed my bag into the overhead area and held on with two hands. Even then I was thrown back and forth, left and right. At one point Cammy asked helplessly "Do you know how long the ride is?". I looked at my ticket. It said 45 minutes.

Finally, mercifully, the bus rumbled to a stop in Bomerano square. This was the Italy I was looking for. Tucked away from the busier tourist areas Bomerano is an authentic Italian village. It reminded me of rural neighborhoods back home except with donkeys in the yards instead of dogs and cats. As the path slowly transitioned from cement to gravel to dirt we began to take in the truly magnificent views.

Growing up my family's favorite vacation destination were the National Parks. I've hiked in the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Glacier, and Arches National Park. The Path of the Gods, however, was an experience entirely its own. As you walk down the narrow dirt and stone path the terraced cliffs rise up vertically on your right checkered with old grape vineyards now overgrown but still sprouting the occasional cluster. To the left is a steep drop off that spills down and down until it reaches the sparkling Mediterranean Sea stretching off into the horizon. Occasionally you pass old stone huts, now in ruins, where farmers once worked the land.

I briefly considered staying in the hills and living in an abandoned hut

We soon discovered the trail is still in use by the locals as we rounded one bend and came eye-to-eye with a donkey hauling wooden logs. "Bonjourno, ciao, ciao" said the handler who looked to be about 16 years old. A short time later we heard what sounded like someone hammering up ahead. We came around the corner to see an extremely large donkey tethered to a tree and stamping his feet in protest. It was so large that we were nervous to pass him on the trail. As we did I turned back for a few quick snaps.

We continued along the path, at times exposed on the cliff's edge, and at others winding through a fairy tale forest. We came across a number of structures that appeared to be inhabited: tile patios, gated entries, and cats napping outside. I fantasized about what it would be like to live in the hills of Amalfi foraging for food. "Foraging for food?", Jenna said, "you can't even buy groceries on your own". Touché.

We disturbed this Italian snake's siesta

One exhilarating moment came towards the end of the hike. As we walked along the trail we saw a group of hikers up ahead. They were obviously stopped in the trail for some reason and engaged in heated discussion. We approached and were quickly debriefed. A large black snake was slithering around down the trail. Two unfazed locals tossed stones at the snake which refused to move. At one point they handed Jenna a large club and gestured towards the snake. "I wouldn't do that" someone said "you don't want to aggravate it." Jenna laid down her arms.

There was a short pause while everyone evaluated the situation. "What kind of snake is it?" I asked. "I'm not sure," replied an Australian nearby, "I think it's an Italian snake". I pictured an Italian snake with tight knit sweater draped around his long neck and large designer sunglasses. "Eh-hiss-ay, eh-hiss-ay" he would emote with passion. We eventually flanked the snake, bushwhacking around the threat.

After a few hours on the trail we finally arrived in Nocelle and were met with a decision we had anticipated from the start. Take the bus or take the stairs.

Nocelle is a village embedded in the cliffs high above the Amalfi coastline. Descending to Positano requires traversing over 1,700 stone steps. For me it was a scenic walk. For Jenna it was akin to torture. Repetitive, hot, strenuous, and towards the tail end of a long day. I started to feel guilty for enjoying the scenery when it became apparent Jenna was in agony.

Finally after around step 950 we caught a glimpse of Positano. This filled us with hope. With careful, purposeful steps we finally made it to the street level where it was a short walk back to town. Like zombies we stumbled to the nearest Gelato shop to celebrate our accomplishment.

Only 1,690 steps to go

After showering and massaging some life back into our weary legs we set out for another Italian dinner. On our walks around town one particular restaurant had caught our eye. Easily missed, the single entrance opened off a narrow street corridor covered in a canopy of vines. The open air patio restaurant was surrounded by exotic cactuses, vines, and trees. The name on the menu said Al Palazzo but to us it was The Secret Garden.

We briefly considered the chef's tasting menu which included octopus salad, scallops, lobster ravioli, and traditional Italian dessert. Recalling my previous tasting experience at Hugo's in Portland, one which I enjoyed but barely survived, I opted for the standard appetizer and entrée instead. Unfortunately for Jenna the tasting menu required at least two participants. Luckily each item was also available on the menu a la carte.

While waiting for our first course, Jenna's octopus salad and my mushroom soup, we were treated to a mozzarella and prosciutto roll courtesy of the chef. It was light and creamy and a perfect preview for the food to come.

Dining at The Secret Garden

After a short delay (Jenna explained the Italians love to linger at the dinner table) our main course arrived. The plate of seared sea bass atop potato purée was placed in front of Jenna and a bowl of lobster ravioli with clams found its way to me. As we savored our first bites a white cat scurried through the indoor forest by our table and up a nearby tree. Probably on his way to the Gelateria.

Jenna and I really enjoyed our dinner at The Secret Garden but we're anticipating tomorrow's meal even more. It will be prepared by one of my favorite chefs in the world: Jenna Perez Marion. The cooking class begins at 3:30PM at our Hotel the Buca di Bacco.