Sunshine and Lemons - 90s Italian Style

My closets will never be more organized than they were partway through the pandemic. I had the joy of coming across my old journal that I wrote while backpacking in Europe in the summer of 1996 after finishing undergrad. It definitely brought of feelings of nostalgia for the innocence of the time. Bless the 90s!

We took off for Paris with printed air and rail tickets that we carried in sweaty fanny packs. I had no credit card, no cell phone, no email, no reservations, and certainly no social media. We traveled in backpacks with only a few outfits, a walkman, a European travel guide, a novel for long train rides and $2000 Canadian in travellers cheque’s. We often didn’t communicate with any one back home for days or weeks at a time due to the cost. We were off the grid.

The original plan was to fly in and out of Paris with a month to wander the continent. We tentatively planned to spend time in Paris itself, then head to the south of France, and to Italy, as well as being expected to show up in Vienna, Austria where the extended family of one of my travelling companions resided. Everything else was up for grabs. The original thought was to head as far south as Rome, in Italy, but we kept hearing about the Amalfi Coast. So we swapped tentative days in northern Milan for time by the sun kissed sea where we would stay both on the Island of Capri, and in Atrani, the next town over from Amalfi. We were able to travel by rail as far south as Naples, and then proceeded to travel by ferry throughout the region.

On the ferry ride from Naples, Capri bubbled up in the distance. It's a mirage. Stepping off the ferry we arrived to a glamourous, cosmopolitan world in the middle of the sea that I had had no idea existed. After walking the main town we were encouraged by an Argentinean retiree to make our way up the mountain to the smaller town of Anacapri. The bus clung to the cliff side as we clutched our backpacks, mouths agape at the beautiful vista. In this smaller, quieter town I noted they were installing their first ATM machine, a big deal for the local community, as a number of men gathered around to observe. We happened upon a small inn called Villa Eva where we checked in. Villa Eva was complete with brightly coloured bougainvillea, and a pool. At twenty-two what more could we ask for?

We ate the most amazing gelato, eavesdropped on a tourist who sent their pasta back for being undercooked and chewy!, got lost after dark, swam in the sea, hiked up and down the mountain and meandered through town. I remember standing on the mountainside one afternoon, wind in my hair, listening to the jingle of bells on the collar of a wandering goat. I looked out to the sea and felt utterly free. It was like catching lightning in a bottle. I can still feel that moment. I didn't want to be anywhere else.

The Amalfi Coast brought more adventures, and more pasta, including a $1 spaghetti dinner that I marvelled at in my journal - it included bread and water. Bless that 22-year old girl. We stayed in the small town of Atrani, cheaper than neighbouring Amalfi, walking until our legs ached. I quietly marvelled at enormous lemons dripping from the trees, we suntanned on the town beach, and hung out in a gelateria during a World Cup qualifying match. I drank my first limoncello overlooking the sunset with my girlfriends, complimentary of a cute Italian bartender. Life was great.

Taking the bus out of Amalfi back to Naples to meet the train that would whisk us off to Venice I stared out the window, as the bus perilously switchbacked around the cliffside and drank in this place. 24 years later those days still live within me.

I look back at the handful of simple photographs I took at the time and revel in the simplicity of it all.