This was my first bridge holiday without Pat. She had agreed to go, and then backed out, so I was partner-less and roommate-less, and very worried about how I would get on.  I ended up in a single room with a rat for company (see story called Holiday Horror) but all in all, it was a good week.

The main characters in this are Barbara, who I played bridge with, and Joyce and Frank, people I had never met before, but we all seemed to get on okay.

Monday, we decided that we would get the train to Pompeii. We skipped our early walk by the sea (although I think Frank did on his own) and the four of us walked to the train station about 11ish. We spent a long time trying to decide which station we should get - none of us being very confident about asking directions. In the end, it was Joyce who took the lead, and got the first tickets, and we eventually all followed suit. 

Our train appeared to go from platform 1 - and we got on near some Americans who were very relaxed about this foreign travel bit. Frank didn't want to sit facing backwards, and Joyce being rather sensitive to comments made by some of the others in the group that she and Frank were an item  was pleased to have an excuse to avoid sitting by him. She really hoped to spend much less time with him, but he was very lonely - and most people tried hard to avoid him - as he was really rather a bore. But poor Frank meant well, and nobody wanted to hurt his feelings. Joyce said she would continue playing bridge with him, but didn't want to be left alone with him on any more trips anyplace. So we conspired to keep her with us, and all of us away from him, whenever we could. We weren't quite sure if he got our message - but after that day, he mostly did his own thing, much to everyone's relief.

But back to Pompeii. The train cost only about £1 and took about 30 minutes. We stopped at lots of stations and went though tunnels, and saw mostly the same scenery as we had seen on our coach trip to Sorrento.

Pompeii station was pretty much in the middle of nowhere - and we walked down the road to the hundreds of souvenir stalls that announced where the ruins were. It wasn't obvious where the entry or ticket place was - and first a man with a pony and cart tried to tell us to have a lift with him to the other end and then we could walk back through. We didn't take him up on the offer. We made a few false starts trying to decide which way to go, and in the end, I asked a policeman who showed us that it was all just under our noses.

I had to buy a ticket for about £4 but the others, being over 60 got in free with showing their passports. Barbara had forgotten her passport at the hotel, having taken it into reception to get some money changed - and she was worried she would have to pay too - but Joyce (who is about 4'11" and weighs about 90 lb. with short curly darkish hair) slipped Barbara (who is about 5'8", much heavier, and with short white hair) her passport - and luckily the guy didn't notice.

So we trudged up in the hot midday sun to see the place that was covered with ash from Vesuvius in 79 A.D. Vesuvius seemed a long way away - but we could see it clearly in the background. I was disappointed in that most of the buildings were really not very well defined houses. They had most of their walls at least part way up - and the occasional hint of something else like a fireplace or well - but mostly they were just ruins. That is a bit unfair actually. Quite a few of the houses had walls that had the remains of pictures on them, and there were some with holes in a sort of kitchen counter type arrangement - which I think I read were where things were sold and probably was a shop.

The place covered acres - and we wandered in and out of the houses on both sides of what was probably the longest and best defined street in the town. At the end we turned down and went to see the amphitheatre, which was nearly intact, and really very much more interesting in trying to think of what things were really like. Then we had an ice cream and took the long walk along the outside road back to the station. We all agreed it was a worthwhile trip - but not something we would hurry to do a second time.

Tuesday, we (Joyce, Barbara and I) avoiding Frank, went to Capri, and that turned out to be the highlight of the week for all of us. And really, I suppose it was because it was a beautiful day - and Capri is the most beautiful island I've ever seen - and we spent the day wandering around and looking in shops. Some would think that that was not what one should put as the highlight of visiting Italy - but somehow everything seemed so perfect that day.

The weather was lovely - the boat trip over was smooth and easy - despite the boat being full of rather noisy and excited 14 year olds. There was a girl across from us with long dark hair and glasses - looking very shy and uncomfortable. She was wearing a black trouser suit - with lace insets on the legs - and a low necked lace top with part of it being chiffon. Barbara said you could see through the chiffon and see the bruises or welts on her back. I didn't notice that - only how unhappy and lonely she looked - with all her classmates dressed in their jeans and tee shirts. She probably had put on her very best outfit for this trip - and was so inappropriately dressed. But before the trip was over, she found a friend and they went off hand in hand, so maybe she wasn't going to be too unhappy after all.

The young boy just across from me was the only Italian who appeared to seem interested in me during the whole trip. All these stories of Italian men being fresh and pinching bottoms did not seem to be the case, or perhaps we just weren't the right sort of material for them. It was such a relief when the kids got off the boat and we vowed that even if it meant hanging about for an hour, we wouldn't get on the same boat with them when we were returning.

We decided to go up to Ana Capri - the topmost town, on the funicular railway. We found our way there, and debated for a moment on which ticket to buy - halfway up to Capri Town for 3000 Lire or all the way up to the top and back for 6000. We decided to do the whole thing. So Barbara bought the tickets, (Joyce had bought our tickets on the boat which cost 7500 lire each for one way). We had to wait a short time for the train to be ready - and we had to stand and there were only seats for 3 in each carriage which took about 12 people. There were perhaps 6 carriages in each train. It took about 10 minutes to get to the top - and the train stopped and everybody got off.

The view going up had been splendid - looking over the lemon trees and beautiful gardens with the azure sea in the background all the time. Everybody but us got off the train. We had booked to go all the way to the top, and did think it slightly strange that nobody else had decided to do that too. But since we were the only ones there, we got the seats for the next part of the journey.

A few more people got in, and then we started out - but we were going down again. We couldn't believe it. So we got our tickets and sure enough it said, they were for the funicular + the autobus. I was so worried somebody would come and shout at us, when we didn't get off at the bottom, but stayed on, in our seats, while the people piled into the carriages, and we took the pretty journey up again. But nobody noticed or cared. One poor little Italian who was in our carriage tried to get us to get out at the bottom, but he didn't understand us when we told him we wanted to go up again. I think he thought we were mad - not just dumb. So we had two trips for the price of one - and nobody said anything at all.

When we got to the top the second time, we found our way through some shops to the bus station, and queued up to get onto the bus to Ana Capri. It was pretty full too, and we stood near the back. An Italian struck up a conversation with Barbara and Joyce and told them how beautiful Capri was - and how we should also visit Amalfi - which was near where he lived. The road up was full of hairpin bends - and luckily our bus driver was good and there was little traffic because it surely was a very dangerous road for anyone who was incompetent.

When we got off, we chose to walk down one of the little streets - and looked in the shops, and just enjoyed the lovely weather and the view. We passed a cafe - and the man tried to get us to stop - but in a nice way - so we told him we would stop on the return trip.

We walked slightly downhill for maybe half a mile - seeing the Casa Rouge or something like that. We didn't really want to get involved in walking down too far, knowing we'd have to walk back up, so we started back, stopping to sit along the wall for one of Joyce's coffees (she always brought a thermos of coffee and some biscuits). Then a bit later we had our ice cream. The man obviously remembered us and feeling sorry for Joyce, who said she only wanted a small vanilla ice cream (he probably thought she was very poor) he only charged us 2000 lire, rather than the 3000 as advertised in his window. So we sat and ate our good ice cream. Others of our party came up, having been rather livid from having to pay 6000 for a coffee or tea or ice cream down below. They actually were rather fed up with Capri, and left soon after that - not somehow feeling its magic like we did. Maybe it was being cheated so soon. We got cheated at the end, paying 6000 for sour lemonade - but somehow that didn't matter too much by then because we had already decided Capri was the best.

Then we walked along in the other direction - with posh shops on both sides. We had been told by the guide that prices were never displayed in shops in Capri, because it meant that whatever the items cost, you wouldn't be able to afford them. But there were beautiful clothes and we looked in every window. Joyce wasn't really looking for clothes, but Barbara rather fancied a black blouse, and I always am interested in clothes - and can easily be persuaded to part with my money.

The best part of that walk for me was when we saw a two piece dress with a design of fish, I think, in black on brown hanging on the wall. I just loved the outfit and the lady who owned the shop must have heard us, because she was ready when we went into the shop to show us the same thing (in my size) in black with beige. I liked the brown one better, and she did have the brown print in a sundress, but I wasn't sure I wanted a sundress. The prices threw me a bit - 125000 lire sounds like a lot of money. That's about £50- and I don't often spend that much on an outfit - but I do sometimes and the things I have bought for that sort of price, I usually get my money's worth from.

But I then saw she had a sale rail. A sale, on Capri - how could I resist. I liked just about everything on it. In the end I only tried on a blouse and a jump suit (I forgot completely about a black two piece outfit that I really liked- and have regretted it ever since). The jump suit which was purple and yellow big flowers made me look like a blimp - but the blouse which was in my autumn colours of green and bronze, with a fishy design - I liked and bought - only £6. What a bargain. So I was happy, and I wore my blouse proudly that night - even though it had looked much better in the rosy haze of Capri than it did in the sombre light of Sorrento. I also wore my pearl and coral necklace that had foisted on me by a rather crafty Majorcan woman a few years ago - and more people commented on that than my blouse. Coral stuff was the big thing to buy in the jewellery line in Sorrento and Capri - and I guess my necklace looked like I might have got it there. It was a big size 10 - my blouse - and since the saleslady kept telling me the stuff she had in her store was too small for me - and discouraging me from even trying it on - I felt rather pleased. Joyce and Barbara were very encouraging in my shopping because it meant they could sit and relax for awhile.

After that we meandered down this same street, still looking in all the shops. At the end we had a beautiful view over the harbour and took all the pictures we could, just to have a memory of this most wonderful place. And then back along the road and looking again in the same shop windows, drooling again over the brown and black print dress (but still forgetting about the two piece black on sale), and then back to the bus. We had a long wait for a bus down - and it was hot. The little man in charge of stamping tickets had a blue sweater on top of his blue shirt - and he must have been sweltering. He did choose to wait for the next bus across the street in the shade. But we noticed how overdressed so many of the Italians were. Little kids had long sleeves and warm fabrics. Men and women had sometimes two sweaters on and even coats - and it must have been in the 80's. In my shorts and sun top I was just about the least dressed person in all Capri.

When we got off the bus in Capri town, we didn't have any clear idea in mind of what we wanted to do, so just wandered around the streets. There were shops all over - and each had its own unique charm. The streets were narrow - some as little as five feet across so that if people on both sides of the street opened their doors at once, they couldn't both be fully open.

It was such a charming place, and although we weren't tempted to buy anything else, we really drank in the atmosphere. We stopped in a little shaded courtyard - and sat on the wall - I expect Joyce got out her coffee flask once again for a swig. I was very taken by some posters of Capri - absolutely beautiful views of the island - which were pasted across several buildings which were empty to block out the windows. We heard some Americans trying to find out where to buy the posters, but they were told to try to magazine shop in the square which I did, in a hurry before they got there, and although I could see one of the posters in the window of the man's office, he said he had none for sale. What a disappointment. I checked in every picture shop and travel agent I saw after that, but with no luck. What a missed opportunity. The Caprians could have made a mint out of selling their advertising posters to Americans.

After wondering up for an hour or so, we wandered down for an hour or so, and found out that we had wandered well below our level for the funicular railway - for which we still had a legitimate ticket for another return journey. So we backtracked up the hill, in order to ride down it in style. Back on the ground level we saw John - one of our group - having a beer by himself on the waterfront. We greeted him - and the very aggressive and pushy waiter talked us into sitting down with him - said we didn't have to buy anything. But we were thirsty - so ordered lemonade - only to find we'd been taken by the same place that had robbed our friends earlier.

In order to make the most of our 6000 lire lemonade, we made sure we took our swizzle sticks with us, and we ate all the nuts on the table (put out for nibbling) and we ate our lemon decoration on the side of the glass - even if it was very sour, and we didn't leave a tip, which annoyed our waiter a lot. But he did condescend to tell us where to buy our return tickets. I got these, to pay my share of our expenses, and it turned out it was cheaper to go home than it had been to come - only 7000 lire. We travelled inside - partly to avoid any more sun - partly because the boat took off two seconds after we got on, and those probably were the only seats available anyway.

We sat across from, and next to, some men who looked a bit worse for wear (or drink probably). It turned out that they were from New Zealand and had been in the battle of Casino, in the Second World War and were back to celebrate the 50th D day anniversary. When Barbara told them that she had lived near Auckland for a couple of years and that I had lived in Christchurch for a year, we spent most of the trip back talking about what those cities are like now, compared to when we lived in them. The men had missed the rest of their party who had sailed on an earlier boat - so they were worried that they would get in trouble when they got back. We saw a bunch of annoyed looking people standing around waiting and Barbara said, "I'll bet you are the New Zealand welcoming committee" and they said they were.

We got a bus to the top of the steep steps, and would have preferred a bus all the way home, but we didn't really know where to catch busses to our part of the town, and when we had been coming back from Pompeii, we spent a long time waiting for busses that never came, so we both times walked back.