Stepping at Conca dei Marini with Richard Simmons
Everyone but me had food poisoning when we were at Conca dei Marini.
I spent a couple of days on my own circling the nearby streets, shops and climbing more stairs than I thought possible. One morning, I decided to walk up to the mini-market to get some Gatorade and chamomile tea to bring back to those of us that were ill. I started to walk out of the house, said a silent prayer for the Holy Spirit to protect me as I crossed the narrow highway onto the side of the cliff and walked carefully and quickly listening with an alert ear to see if I heard the sound of a motor coming my way and look for any spot to squeeze into to let the car pass. Narrow winding roads on the Amalfi coast are not for pedestrians yet everyone goes on them: buses, cars, motorcycles, mopeds, bicycles, pedestrians, dogs and down to cats and sheep. So there I was whispering to the Holy Spirit, as I walked along the side of the road till I ran into the small street with steps that I saw on Google maps would lead me to the mini-market.
I started going up the stairs and after about 30 stairs I stopped to catch my breath. Wow, that felt like so much! The view from where I stood was amazing and just took my breath away.
I decided to have fun with the steps and just do my best. I walked up another flight when it turned and I saw about 300 steps in front of me. It was like facing a wall of stairs that lead to a wall. Slowly, very slowly, I trudged the hundred stairs. The sun was starting to shine and I had left my hat at home feeling that it made me look like a tourist. Boy was that a dumb idea! My head was sweltering hot from the sun and my options were either to go down the stairs and around the curve of death to go home and get the hat, or keep going. So I decided to keep going. When I reached the top of the 300 stairs I braced myself on my knees and panted looking around to make sure no one saw me or how out of shape and terrible I looked.
There was no one but a sweet looking golden retriever sleeping placidly. As I started walking horizontally down a narrow tiny street an elderly lady came out and I asked her where the mini market was. She pointed down the mini-street and told me to take the stairs to the top when I got to the statue of the Madonna.
Off I went. As I reached the little statue of the Madonna I looked up and saw about 1,000 stairs. I stared long and hard before lifting my right leg which was starting to feel like a weight, and step up. I went step by step and started talking to myself, "You can do this. The golden retriever can do this. You are more than an office body. Your legs are amazing and just forgot they were legs. You can get ice-cream at the top." Of I went pushing up and up and up.
"You ancestors climbed thousands of stairs in Peru, you can do this!" and I imagined my ancient native ancestors speedily flying up and down thousands of stairs with nimble legs. "But I have BRITISH legs!" my legs complained. "Pretend they are Inca legs!" my other self responded. And so I talked like a crazy person with each step. As I got to the top of the 1,000 steps I saw a young man and asked him, "Per piacere, mi poi dire dove si trova il mini-market?" He looked at me not understanding a word so I proceeded in English, "Do you know where the mini-market is?" He was British and responded, "Rather sorry, but I don't know but can give you a lift if you like." The last thing I needed was to die murdered because I forgot my hat and accepted a ride. I said no thank you on the offer for the ride or the murder and stood there just waiting to catch my breath.
Along came an American couple, they are so easy to spot anywhere, and I asked them if they knew where the Mini-market was. "Yer gettin' close!" is all the guy said while his wife pointed to the stairs. Thanks a lot... Off I went to more stairs. I looked and they seemed to be about 50 or so. I started climbing and as I turned the 50 I saw another 700. I double thought about the offer for the lift or the murder but decided to keep climbing.
Finally I reached the top and saw the mini-Market. I had never been so glad to see such a crumby mini-market in all my life.
I went in there like the winner of Naked and Afraid and must have looked like a monster as the people in there gave me funny looks. With sweat pouring down my face and my face beet red I went directly to the Gatorades, grabbed two, grabbed a sandwich paid for them and sat in the front of the mini-market scarfing them down. The mini-market owners looked at each other, not surprised as if this happened regularly with tourists who set out to the mini-market and find themselves on a level 10 hike.
After finishing the sandwich and the two Gatorade's I went back in to buy what I had set out to purchase that morning: 2 Gatorade's for the infirm, camomille tea and a lemon. The girl who rang me up on the register asked where I was and we started chatting. She offered to give me a ride back to the bottom of the mountain and I accepted. A few minutes later I was in a tiny bus and was wizzing down the side of the mountain, flying around curves (see why I don't like walking on the side of the road) and finally deposited at the base of the mountain.
I felt rejuvenated, refreshed, re-motivated and saw the sea below so decided to go down a little street and take a peek.
I went down a few stairs and saw the sea. The sun glistened on it. It was beautiful. I wanted to touch it. I called my family to check on them and they were all sleeping and snoozing and I was told to stay out as long as I liked. "Alrighty then!" I thought. "I'll walk down to the sea, eat a gelato and come back!" My legs were now only slightly sore, having recovered from the morning trauma. Off we went around a corner and encountered a nice flight of stairs. I looked at them, and they were going down, and I thought to myself "If I could walk up all the morning stairs for sure I can walk down all of these and later walk them back up!" And off I went almost skipping down hundreds and hundreds of stairs, down the mountainside to the sea.
As I got to the sea I felt so lonely. Everyone was there with family or a loved one and I was there with the one Gatorade I had left (having drank 3 so far) and my camera. I looked around and decided it was best to eat a gelato and go back. I felt too lonely. I inhaled a gelato and took a few pictures but by now even the beauty of the sea wasn't so pleasurable as I was alone and wanted to share that moment with someone else.
Off I went back up the stairs and after about 100 I sat on a bench and muttered to myself, "Richard Simmons would be so proud of you. Keep going!"
And feeling incredibly proud of the pain in my legs, I imagined Richard Simmons climbing the stairs with me, and I imagined him doing jumping jacks around me encouraging me to keep going, "Party off the pounds! Move those buns!"I could hear him cheer.
So I went, with so much new found energy, pretending that Richard Simmons was with me up those hundreds of stairs. "Celebrate it! Celebrate it! Come on! Breathe it on nice and tall and shake it back!" Richard Simmons, I couldn't have gone up those stairs without you...
By the time I got to the top I was now again at the road with the curves that led to our hotel. I thanked the Holy Spirit for being with me and asked him to stay just a little longer till I got home. My knees felt like Jell-O and I wobbled around the road, now with no Gatorade left and finally got to the gate where I let myself in and climbed the last 100 stairs to our apartment.
There I found the rest of the family quietly sleeping off their food poisoning. Lesson learned: you got this, the Holy Spirit is with you, and when you need to push your body to keep going get inspiration from Richard Simmons.
 |
| Vomit with a view |
I spent a couple of days on my own circling the nearby streets, shops and climbing more stairs than I thought possible. One morning, I decided to walk up to the mini-market to get some Gatorade and chamomile tea to bring back to those of us that were ill. I started to walk out of the house, said a silent prayer for the Holy Spirit to protect me as I crossed the narrow highway onto the side of the cliff and walked carefully and quickly listening with an alert ear to see if I heard the sound of a motor coming my way and look for any spot to squeeze into to let the car pass. Narrow winding roads on the Amalfi coast are not for pedestrians yet everyone goes on them: buses, cars, motorcycles, mopeds, bicycles, pedestrians, dogs and down to cats and sheep. So there I was whispering to the Holy Spirit, as I walked along the side of the road till I ran into the small street with steps that I saw on Google maps would lead me to the mini-market.
 |
| Walking around this curvy road was not my favorite. |
 |
| Looking at my path. |
I started going up the stairs and after about 30 stairs I stopped to catch my breath. Wow, that felt like so much! The view from where I stood was amazing and just took my breath away.
 |
| First set of stairs! I totally got this! |
I decided to have fun with the steps and just do my best. I walked up another flight when it turned and I saw about 300 steps in front of me. It was like facing a wall of stairs that lead to a wall. Slowly, very slowly, I trudged the hundred stairs. The sun was starting to shine and I had left my hat at home feeling that it made me look like a tourist. Boy was that a dumb idea! My head was sweltering hot from the sun and my options were either to go down the stairs and around the curve of death to go home and get the hat, or keep going. So I decided to keep going. When I reached the top of the 300 stairs I braced myself on my knees and panted looking around to make sure no one saw me or how out of shape and terrible I looked.
 |
| I think I can! |
 |
| Yay! A bit of flat road! |
There was no one but a sweet looking golden retriever sleeping placidly. As I started walking horizontally down a narrow tiny street an elderly lady came out and I asked her where the mini market was. She pointed down the mini-street and told me to take the stairs to the top when I got to the statue of the Madonna.
 |
| To the right! |
Off I went. As I reached the little statue of the Madonna I looked up and saw about 1,000 stairs. I stared long and hard before lifting my right leg which was starting to feel like a weight, and step up. I went step by step and started talking to myself, "You can do this. The golden retriever can do this. You are more than an office body. Your legs are amazing and just forgot they were legs. You can get ice-cream at the top." Of I went pushing up and up and up.
 |
| Walt Whitman could write Leaves of Grass on Stairs of Amalfi! |
"You ancestors climbed thousands of stairs in Peru, you can do this!" and I imagined my ancient native ancestors speedily flying up and down thousands of stairs with nimble legs. "But I have BRITISH legs!" my legs complained. "Pretend they are Inca legs!" my other self responded. And so I talked like a crazy person with each step. As I got to the top of the 1,000 steps I saw a young man and asked him, "Per piacere, mi poi dire dove si trova il mini-market?" He looked at me not understanding a word so I proceeded in English, "Do you know where the mini-market is?" He was British and responded, "Rather sorry, but I don't know but can give you a lift if you like." The last thing I needed was to die murdered because I forgot my hat and accepted a ride. I said no thank you on the offer for the ride or the murder and stood there just waiting to catch my breath.
Along came an American couple, they are so easy to spot anywhere, and I asked them if they knew where the Mini-market was. "Yer gettin' close!" is all the guy said while his wife pointed to the stairs. Thanks a lot... Off I went to more stairs. I looked and they seemed to be about 50 or so. I started climbing and as I turned the 50 I saw another 700. I double thought about the offer for the lift or the murder but decided to keep climbing.
Finally I reached the top and saw the mini-Market. I had never been so glad to see such a crumby mini-market in all my life.
 |
| Welcome to the mini-market of Conca dei Marini |
 |
| View from the Mini-Market |
I went in there like the winner of Naked and Afraid and must have looked like a monster as the people in there gave me funny looks. With sweat pouring down my face and my face beet red I went directly to the Gatorades, grabbed two, grabbed a sandwich paid for them and sat in the front of the mini-market scarfing them down. The mini-market owners looked at each other, not surprised as if this happened regularly with tourists who set out to the mini-market and find themselves on a level 10 hike.
After finishing the sandwich and the two Gatorade's I went back in to buy what I had set out to purchase that morning: 2 Gatorade's for the infirm, camomille tea and a lemon. The girl who rang me up on the register asked where I was and we started chatting. She offered to give me a ride back to the bottom of the mountain and I accepted. A few minutes later I was in a tiny bus and was wizzing down the side of the mountain, flying around curves (see why I don't like walking on the side of the road) and finally deposited at the base of the mountain.
I felt rejuvenated, refreshed, re-motivated and saw the sea below so decided to go down a little street and take a peek.
 |
| ooo! Nice! I should take a look! |
I went down a few stairs and saw the sea. The sun glistened on it. It was beautiful. I wanted to touch it. I called my family to check on them and they were all sleeping and snoozing and I was told to stay out as long as I liked. "Alrighty then!" I thought. "I'll walk down to the sea, eat a gelato and come back!" My legs were now only slightly sore, having recovered from the morning trauma. Off we went around a corner and encountered a nice flight of stairs. I looked at them, and they were going down, and I thought to myself "If I could walk up all the morning stairs for sure I can walk down all of these and later walk them back up!" And off I went almost skipping down hundreds and hundreds of stairs, down the mountainside to the sea.
 |
| Woo hoo! Down I go! |
As I got to the sea I felt so lonely. Everyone was there with family or a loved one and I was there with the one Gatorade I had left (having drank 3 so far) and my camera. I looked around and decided it was best to eat a gelato and go back. I felt too lonely. I inhaled a gelato and took a few pictures but by now even the beauty of the sea wasn't so pleasurable as I was alone and wanted to share that moment with someone else.
 |
| Wouldn't you want to share seeing such a yellow entrance with someone to comment on how yellow it is? |
 |
| Bring your fishing nets to the shore. |
 |
| I love the tiny church! |
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| Downtown Conca dei Marini |
Off I went back up the stairs and after about 100 I sat on a bench and muttered to myself, "Richard Simmons would be so proud of you. Keep going!"
And feeling incredibly proud of the pain in my legs, I imagined Richard Simmons climbing the stairs with me, and I imagined him doing jumping jacks around me encouraging me to keep going, "Party off the pounds! Move those buns!"I could hear him cheer.
So I went, with so much new found energy, pretending that Richard Simmons was with me up those hundreds of stairs. "Celebrate it! Celebrate it! Come on! Breathe it on nice and tall and shake it back!" Richard Simmons, I couldn't have gone up those stairs without you...
 |
| "Put that leg up! Here we go!" |
By the time I got to the top I was now again at the road with the curves that led to our hotel. I thanked the Holy Spirit for being with me and asked him to stay just a little longer till I got home. My knees felt like Jell-O and I wobbled around the road, now with no Gatorade left and finally got to the gate where I let myself in and climbed the last 100 stairs to our apartment.
 |
| The last of the stairs. |
There I found the rest of the family quietly sleeping off their food poisoning. Lesson learned: you got this, the Holy Spirit is with you, and when you need to push your body to keep going get inspiration from Richard Simmons.
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