Ravello. And a Case of the Mondays

For my last day in Amalfi, I have a choice. I can either go to the island of Capri or I can take a bus to a near by town, either Sorrento, Salerno or Ravello. The ferry ride to Capri is 30 Euro roundtrip, expensive in my mind, and the only ferry leaves early in the morning and returns fairly late in the evening. Bus tour it is then. I had heard about Ravello and how it was another maze of hairpin turns, supposedly an amazing bus ride. Uncharacteristically, I have no tour or guide books on Italy with me, no print outs of good restaurants or what to see in a given area. No maps, nothing. So, I grab the touristy bus - I hadn't heard anything factual about the area and this seemed like a good avenue to get some knowledge on the landscape. Then the bus filed up and a man, with his wife a few rows back, sat next to me. An older Aussie with seven kids, we talked the whole way to Ravello and I didn't learn one thing about the area. But I did have good conversation - and just like every single conversation in Italy has gone, the subject of why I'm traveling alone came up. There is no reason you can give a person to explain why you are really traveling on your own; the honest truth is too personal. I skirt around the question and of course he follows up with why I'm not married, another question I've encountered before, and that's not just while traveling. Yet another question with too personal an answer - "Just hasn't happened" and he nods seeming to understand. "Not a thing to take lightly, the last thing you want to do is get divorced, I know," he says.  "My wife," gesturing a few rows back, "this is my second marriage, and I go out to eat sometimes and we see couples eating but not saying a word. When she and I go out, we enjoy each other's company and enjoy being together. I see those couples not talking and I want to walk up to them and say, 'What are you waiting for, just get divorced and move onto a better part of your life.'" While I don't think that not talking during a meal signals the end of your marriage, his enthusiasm about this wife and their relationship was refreshing. It reminded me of many of my friends' marriages who did it right, picked right, and are happier for it. While I have heard of many people being envious of my trip, I don't think they realize how much I envy them. In a happy marriage, maybe with kids, maybe not, but they found someone they know they can share their life with, and that is so much more than a trip to Europe (even though it's a pretty kick ass trip to Europe). Guess the grass is always greener on the other side. 
Ravello is very similar to the other towns on the Amalfi coast and I only stay two hours there before returning home. I take the bus to the hotel because there's no freaking way I'm walking up those stairs again - plus, in the morning I have to walk up the 300 stairs with my pack and messenger bag. 
On Monday, tomorrow, I'm heading to my first host house in Cosenza. Cosenza is south and east of Amalfi but according to the travel agent, the only way is to go through Naples. Naples is the one place everyone has told me to stay away from as much as possible. The crime is fairly high, there are gypsies who will steal from you by spitting in your face so you instinctively release your grasp on your bag; generally not a great city to pass through. I'm taking a ferry from Amalfi to Naples, a two hour trip, and then have to wait for my train from Naples to Paola for almost two hours in the train station. This not something I'm looking forward to at all, although I was already in the Naples train station once and it didn't seem That bad. From Paola I switch to a regional train and head south to Cosenza. All in all, I'm going north to head south, but that's just the way the trains run. The totally trip is calculated to take me almost nine hours.  
The morning of, I watch the sunrise over the Mediterranean, grab a few bites of breakfast and head up the stairs with my pack to wait for the bus to take me down to Amalfi (there's no way I'm going down those 700 stairs with my pack). I'm a few minutes early and notice there are two kids, about 7th grade, waiting in the same area with backpacks (for the girl, it's pink with High School Musical prints all over). It is Monday and it is that time of year. Interesting, I thought, wondering if they are waiting for a car pool or if they are taking the bus to another stop. I couldn't figure it out... Until the SITA bus pulled up FULL of children. Apparently in Italy, the kids use the city buses as their school buses. There is no sitting room and old Italian women seated are gesturing to get my pack and other bag off of me and onto the ground at their feet at the seats. I thought they were just being nice when I realize we have many more stops before we get to Amalfi. And everyone single one of them has kids waiting to be picked up. 
The bus is getting more and more jammed, we pick up five, then four, then two, then six. There is no room to move anywhere and the hair pin turns are forcing everyone to lean into each other which ever way the bus is lurching. The bus driver eventually says no more and we drive by stop upon stop of kids waiting to get down to Amalfi. Next bus for them, I guess - which, by the schedule, isn't for another hour. I hope that isn't true for their sakes. 
Down in the city center, I go to buy my ferry pass only to be told its been cancelled and the bus is the only way to get to Naples today. I'm really getting sick of buses. I've already purchased my ticket from Naples to Cosenza so I need to be on time and get to the station before 12:42. It's now 8:00am. The ferry representative gestures to the store over "there" and I go in search of a bus ticket. I buy one speaking Italian (go me) and ask what time it leaves in Italian (go me, again). "Un minute," he says. One minute, he repeats in English and gestures out the door. I scurry out and find the correct bus with about thirty seconds to spare. 
According to everyone I talked to, the bus ride to Naples should take 2 hours. I know that's not true because they say two hours like my grandmother used to say two hours. "Gram, how far are we from the beach?" "Two hours," she would reply. 30 minutes later, "How far are we now?" "Two hours". Same basic concept in Italy. 
I'll make a very long story short and cut out the transferring of buses in the middle of no where and skip over the part where we run into something I hadn't seen yet in Italy - traffic, and lots of it - and just say it took us three and a half hours to get to Naples. Thankfully, with my long layover, I didn't have to wait long in the train station before boarding. In my spare time, I peruse a book store and purchase three children's books to try to read in Italian - a general workbook for grade schoolers, Hansel and Gretal and Green Eggs and Ham. If I get bored in Cosenza, at least I'll have something to "read". 
Upon boarding the train in Naples, which is now six hours later since I woke up and five hours since I began traveling, the operator comes over the PA in Italian and then English going over where the cafe car is and where the train will be stopping, in order. First Scala, then Salerno, then Paola.... But I barely hear Paola, which is my stop, because I could have sworn they just said Salerno. They repeat it again and there it is, second stop, Salerno.  SON OF A ...
Let me interrupt here to remind you of something mentioned earlier in this post. Nearby towns to Amalfi were Sorrento, Ravello and SALERNO. And at this point, I've been traveling on three different buses, hoofed about a mile through downtown Naples (I skipped over that part), still have a two hour train ride ahead of me until I switch trains again and then travel another hour to Cosenza.... And you're telling me I could have taken a FIFTEEN minute bus ride south to Salerno and picked up this exact same train? After of course, sleeping in, eating a full breakfast, maybe even a nice cappuccino?!? I'm not actually hearing that right now, am I?!?!!
.. %#?!#^%^#!!!!!! 
I'm off to the cafe car to get an overpriced beer.