Captivated by Capri

No matter how many hours of sleep I get, I will never learn to enjoy waking up before dawn. The granola, yogurt, and fresh coffee helped though, and by 7 we are marching through town toward the ferries. Sorrento is gorgeous this early in the day, and I enjoy the view from this angle just as much as I did from above.

After a quick zip over to Capri, we board the boat that will be giving our group a private tour of the the magical little island.

Because the weather had been so nice until this point, we are optimistic in our shorts and tank tops. Unfortunately Capri isn't on the same page (at least until later, as we thankfully discover).

We don't notice our goosebumps for long, lost in the magic of coastal cliffs and caves carved by years of lapping, green waves.

We stop at the famous "Blue Grotto", where we climb into tiny little boats manned by singing gondoliers (they must have gotten their training in Venice). I hope that I'm not already developing desensitization to amazing things, but I honestly wasn't impressed with this national attraction.

As we crouch down in the tiny boats to avoid hitting our heads on the low cave roof, I am fully prepared to lose my breath in wonder over the beauty of this reputedly ethereal water.

Maybe my expectations were too high, and yes, the water in the cave is an out-of-this-world blue, but we're back out into the open sea after 30 expensive seconds, and I felt like I'd been a little duped. It would have been cooler if we could have swam in it maybe, or if mermaids came out and sung to us. I don't know.

Back on land, Kelsey and I wonder, rather pessimistically, how we are to entertain ourselves for the next five hours before our bus leaves.



We figure pizza will perk us up, and share one with gorgonzola and artichoke at a restaurant overlooking the coast.

The bill, however, complete with not only a $6 water fee, but a "service" AND a separate "cover" charge, disillusions us entirely. We sulk out, bitter about our $35 pizza, and sit on a wall, since we've already come to the conclusion that everything here is overpriced and too touristy.

Complacency doesn't sit well with me, however, and pretty soon we were off searching for a (free) adventure.

I bump into Luca, my professor and Italian guide. Although the last two times he gave us directions they were terrible and got us lost, I tried the "third time's a charm" approach, and asked about a certain stair case he had mentioned on the bus.

We set about finding them, and stumble upon an overlook of Capri that was unquestionably worth leaving our stone wall for. Jaw dropping, might be a good description. This was what we came here for, I think, not overpriced pizzas.

We find the "stair case", which is really just a steep, winding ramp all the way down from our cliff's peak to where the ocean waves are crashing among the rocks. It's too bad the public beach is on the other side of the island, we sigh, but walk down the path anyways, as we have nothing better to do.

In the next ten minutes, my world changes drastically. We find a decrepit arch, with Italian signage conveying a "closed restaurant", and a secret, hidden path. I can't resist a good mystery.

We weave our way down this overlooked trail at the exact moment that the sun chooses to reveal itself in all its glory, and by the time we hit the white, sandy beach, my impression of Capri has done a complete 180.

I am in heaven.

Despite the early overcast weather, I had the foresight to pack my bathing suit, and ten minutes later, Keith Urban is providing the soundtrack to the best tanning experience of my life.

Our secluded paradise doesn't remain private for long, as a group of guys from our program had followed us. Luckily, we make friend's easily, and used one of them to touch the jelly fish in the water to see if they stung or not. Verified harmless, we jump from our tanning rock into the aquamarine water, which now that the sun is out, is a million times more gorgeous to me. And feels fantastic.

I didn't realize how much I had missed the ocean until right now.

Hours pass in tropical perfection, bronzing and frolicking in Mediterranean waters. I know our bus is probably coming soon, but I really can't imagine how I'm going to peel myself away from this nirvana now that I've found it. In fact, I come up with all sorts of viable excuses that I plan to have the rest of the group tell our program coordinator so that I don't have to go back.

"She fell off a rock drifted out to sea before any of us could save her! She's long gone, no point in trying to rescue her now." Or maybe, a swarm of jellyfish suddenly formed around me, and drug me out to live with them as their Queen. Or, my favorite, that a boat filming Pirates of the Caribbean 4 sailed by and thought that I was perfect for a role, and could they please use me in the film as Johnny Depp's love interest? Hey, it could happen.

But if I stayed on the beach forever I wouldn't be able to have Pa's lasagna again, and that is too devastating a thought. Much sooner than I would have liked, I was back on the bus to Florence. Beach hair and sticky skin from the salt water served as a happy reminder, however, of my day in Paradise.

I didn't end up with any of the cool nautical things I had originally wanted in Capri, and my sunburn was only a temporary souvenir.

But the smooth white rocks I "borrowed" from the beach will always remind me that sometimes the unexpected beats anything you could have planned.