Kevin: Just a closer walk with thee---and the Phootes

Kate and I headed out not so early this Tuesday morning (my plan, typically ignored, called for a much earlier departure) for the "Sentiero degli Dei," a six kilometer hike at the top of the ridges overlooking a good chunk of the Amalfi Coast. One of the reasons for the later departure is the time it took to fail at convincing Phil and Marj, that a six mile trek 750 m over the ocean was just the ticket for this hot, sunny day. Therefore I will include their alter egos (the Phootes of the title) in this account of this trip on the "Pathway of the Gods."

   The trip involves a bus ride to Amalfi and a transfer to a local bus to the top of the ridge and the starting point of the hike, Bomerano. Luckily for them, the Phootes got prime seats in the front. Kate and I sat separately in the steamy rear section of the bus. Unluckily we missed the connection to the bus to Bomerano in Amalfi. Luckily (this tale has as many switchbacks as the trail) I overheard a possibly Teutonic gentleman talking about his similar plans for the hike so I shared the bad news about the missed bus with him and his group. His wife made the suggestion that we all share a taxi to the top rather than wait two hours for the next bus. Most of us agreed (not those thrifty Phootes, though) and the deal was struck with a swarthy Lothario with a deep tan and a van. Either because they were too cheap or maybe because they weren't really there, the Phootes were strapped to the roof and we all enjoyed the twisting turning, sudden braking, horn honking, stomach churning race to the sky. Unluckily, Marj's hairdo didn't survive the breezy climb.

 In what tuned out not to be an omen, I flipped over a stone bench, fell, and bloodied my knee in town before we even hit the trail. Typical of Phil to laugh at another's misfortune.

 The hike began to the left of the church and soon turned into a visually splendid, well -marked walk on donkey trails. The weather was clear and cool, the sun bright, the hiking easy. This gave Kate the opportunity to grill our new friends (happily sunny Swedish not dour German) about their first 60 years of life. Come to find out Benny is the Scandinavian version of Kate Hanson Professor of Community Leadership and Service at UNH so the bonding was palpable and heartfelt. Phil never fully believed they were not German so kept to his own consul. Marj kept fidgeting with her hair.

 As the pictures of the trek now reveal--and you will see if you're ever unfortunate enough to be subjected to a slide show--that it is impossible to capture the incredible beauty of this walk. Certainly my words can't convey it. Therefore I'll comment on the incredible camaraderie as hikers met hikers. It seems that the "pathway of the gods" is a cross between sightseeing and a high school reunion. The Swedes weren't the only friends we made.

 Two tour groups stand out. The Vermont Walking Tour group were all clearly middle age academics who were playing hooky from graduation. I won't tell you how I know that. They had all been given two walking sticks which made then look like new skiers trying to go the wrong way on the mountain without remembering to put their skis on. The women looked like they'd rather be reading Jane Austen and their painfully slow picking down the rock showed it. The men acted like they'd rather be screwing graduate students. Both groups wished they were wearing Kate's clothes from Thailand instead of standard issue Eastern Mountain Sports .

 On the other hand, was the rowdy group lead whose Aussie leader offered to share his big bag of Ruffles with us and who was racing the group through the hike in order to have time for a Limoncello before the bus left the end point, Nocelle. As the trail got a little more serious, with light rock climbing, we met the young couple we met on the bus from Ravello yesterday carrying their infant up in the opposite direction. Neither had broken a sweat, unlike the very damp Phootes pulling up the rear. The trail ends with a very false dilemma...to take the bus down from the aforementioned Nocelle or take the stairs down to Positano....all 1700 of them. We thought about that for all of a nanosecond. Luckily Marj was outvoted, and we caught the local bus just as a rain cloud let loose. Phil said "I told you it would rain."