Dinner with the Poacher - 12th May

Sunday – 8:00am – I look out - it has been raining - it seems that  the weather gods are still undecided about who they will allow to assume dominance this day! – rain or shine! – increasingly it becomes clear that this will be a day under sunny skies.

I reflect on the silence of the street – I conclude that Italy must  still be having trouble shaking off it's catholicity! – save for the ringing of the church bell via P. Reginaldo Guilliarno is almost silent – hardly a footstep to be heard – hardly a case wheel rattle – begin to wonder if the via will even be open for business this day.

The evil Mr. Ross came for his visit last evening – Bernie attempts to sleep off his visitation – it will be a quiet day – we resolve that our trip along the Amalfi Coast is capable of being deferred well beyond tomorrow. (Those readers who are unaware that Bernie has been inflicted with Ross Rover virus for the last few years will not understand the reference to the villainous Mr. Ross)

I catch up on some writing – from time to time  I look out over the balcony  – eventually the via starts to stir – first one then another purveyor of services starts to ready his premises – eventually the poacher arrives in time to accost the first of the travellers!

Bernie eventually rises from her slumbers – we sneak out while Mr Ross is looking the other way to dine at the end of the street.

We sit at a table that encroaches on the narrow carriage way of the via – the sun shines – everyone looks more relaxed that usual – even the travellers appear to have adopted the spirit of this Sunday – after all it is Mother’s Day.

Bernie loves her lobster pasta – I am less impressed with my pasta and even less impressed with the 75 Euro credit card debit arising from what only could be described as a light lunch - oh well I suppose the owner has a mother to support!

Bernie notices that Mr Ross has awoken from his slumber – she retires to the suite for an afternoon of rest.

I wander out to do some shopping – I stroll along Corsa Italia – it is a different Corsa Italia this day – it still has it’s tourists but they appear out-numbered by locals – families, couples, individuals, clusters of youth all out on a slow Sunday afternoon stroll – their relaxed pace seems to have a calming effect on the travellers.

Home – Bernie continues to rest – she is determined to dine out again tonight – I assume my now customary position on the balcony watching and watching some more – the poacher gives me the tiniest of waves – does that mean I am a local?

Bernie surfaces from her slumber – we dine at the poacher’s establishment – we are greeted by the poacher like old long-lost friends – we sit inside the restaurant - we realise that we are the some outsiders in a restaurant packed full of Americans - sardine stuffed aubergine for Bernie – Lasagne for me – the aubergine superb –the  lasagna less than superb – it seems like Bernie is winning the menu selection stakes in a canter! – chardonnay and limoncello – all in all very reasonable!

As is now the custom for these old established Australian Sorrentino, we adjourn to our favourite gelataria just up via P.Reginaldo Guiliano – they are the suppliers of the best gelato known to mankind even though we doubt their claim that it is homemade -  we say that knowing that every other gelataria on the Amalfi Coast claims the same title!

We return towards the suite – a family of Canadians are studying the poacher’s menu – the poacher is having limited success in enticing them inside – he deputises Bernie – she convinces them – they tell her how expensive it is here – they have teenage kids for eat a lot they say! – If Mr Ross had not come to visit I can imagine that the poacher would have had a full time assistant this night!