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Report 1008: 'I Vincitori' Learn to Get Lost in the Hills and Valleys of Italy

By Marian from New Jersey, Spring 2006

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Page 7 of 15: From the Gommista to the Pizza (Friday, 12 May)-

photo by Marian

Santa Maria di Castellabate, Piazza and Caffe

So now we must see about getting the flat tire repaired. We ask at the pasticceria, and it turns out that there is a gommista in Mercato, the adjoining frazione of Perdifumo that we got lost in our first day. We find him, and he tells us that the tire cannot be repaired; we need a new one. I call Europcar for some guidance here, but they are useless. So I decide to buy a used tire; the alternative being to drive to Salerno, find the Europcar place, etc. The gommista quickly puts on the replacement tire, but he is not so happy when I ask for a receipt, and for him to put the old tire in the trunk.

Marc and Cheryl have gone off to Capaccio to get some bufala at Vannulo. Ellen and I head for a light lunch at Santa Maria di Castellabate, but not before I sideswipe a parked truck and manage to disconnect my right-hand mirror. (I seem to be overdoing the "keeping to the right" bit.)

Once we get to Santa Maria di Castellabate, and park the wounded car, we find a little place on the main piazza for a light lunch. (Oh, should I mention that I drive us into an impossibly narrow street and get us to some point where I can neither go forward nor turn around?) We want to save our appetites for the "last night" pizza dinner in Perdifumo. We walk around the town a bit, and I wade into the lovely water.

We then head "home" but we CANNOT find a road that will get us there. We take wrong turn after wrong turn. Then finally "PERDIFUMO". There we are. As we pull in, Marc and Cheryl pull in as well, and Marc quickly fixes my mirror. (There, there, little wounded car.)

This is to be our last evening in the Cilento, and tomorrow Ellen will begin to head home. We all sit quietly on the terrace ---- reading, drinking wine, chatting a bit. Then we head off to La Ruota for our dinner.

Although we arrive at about 8:30, hardly anyone is there. But they are setting up some karaoke equipment. We order our pizzas, and some vino rosso della casa. The pizzas are quite good, but the wine is another story. What shall we do? It is actually undrinkable. But the waiter comes back and asks us if the wine is good. I am tactfully truthful, and the wine he then brings is quite good.

We head home, and to bed. We are to leave at 10 the next morning.

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