... in which Axe discovers what sweet sorrow it is to part from Paradise.
But first: a private boat tour around the Isle of Capri...
At the port are scores of boats of all shapes and sizes, zipping in and out of the harbour bearing islanders and day-trippers alike. And at the tip of one of the cliffs, barely visible from the water's edge is the statue of a waving boy, a permanent welcome to all visiting Capri.
It's easy to see how the craggy face of the island has inspired so many artists, poets and musicians.
Some adventurous folk explored the rocks on the cliffs more closely than we dared.
But given the choice between rock climbing in 100 degree weather or paddling in the crystal clear waters of a multitude of hidden coves and grottos, what would
your choice have been? (See? I thought so.)
Of all the natural attractions around the island, perhaps the most famous is
La Grotta Azzurra (the Blue Grotto), which can only be visited during good weather conditions. The entrance to the cave is this tiny opening. Unlike the other grottos, entry can only be made via one of a small fleet of rowboats at hand to escort visitors from their own boats into the grotto...
...where we discovered that it is often customary for the boatmen to show off their operatic talents in the grotto's astounding acoustic space.
You can see for yourself where the grotto gets its name. The blue reflections of light through the small opening create a stunning, ethereal display in the cave. Pictures simply cannot do it justice.
"NO SWIMMING ALLOWED"
Swimming in the Blue Grotto is "strictly" forbidden. But that didn't stop us from jumping straight into the cool water at the very mildest suggestion from our guide that we might be able to steal a chance for a swim. ("I can resist anything except temptation," Wilde used to say. I'm sure he would have approved.) And it was, in fact, the most fantastic swim we had on the island. As we dove and paddled about, our guide serenaded us with several verses of
"Santa Lucia".
It was heaven.
The water was so wonderful, it was painful to climb back into the rowboat and back to our driver. But even that brief spell, engulfed in the magic of Capri, was more rejuvenating than a month of massages. With renewed spring in our steps, we hopped off the boat and back through the marina.
After a brief siesta, we walked uphill towards the center of Anacapri.
Nestled in a side street among strings of souvenir shops and handicraft boutiques we found a knitting store. Of sorts.
It was, rather unfortunately, closed at the time. However, it wasn't at all a traditional LYS. In fact, it seemed that you could just walk in and have something Knit-to-Order. Through the windows, we could just see knitting machines set up and ready to go in the back room. Handy to note for all those times you visit the island and find yourself in sudden need of a knitted bikini.
Compared to Capri, Anacapri was fairly deserted on Sunday afternoon...
... but the artistry put into the most commonplace items spoke volumes about the people who make this their home. Just have a look at this bench, embellished with painted tiles. Mind, this is a
public bench.
And see this tile stairway. Upon closer inspection, you'll see that a different bird adorns each step.
There is such beauty on this island, tiny though it may be. I can understand why natives like our host Franco would never really want to leave for very long.
After all, who could possibly bear to part with a place where the day begins like this:
... carries on like this:
... and ends like this?
It takes a stronger willed (and perhaps even more jaded) person than this fashionista to resist the call of the Isle of Capri.
So, when we boarded the ferry home, it was less "Farewell" than
"Arrivederci"...
FYI -- Just in case you forgot (or thought that I had forgotten) that this was a knitblog -- there is yarn and knitting news to come! Stay tuned!
