Day Six: Exploring Praiano

Sunrise from our Praiano balcony

       Apparently it had been cloudy and rainy in Praiano for the past few days, just as it had been in Rome. So when the sun rose on that bright, clear Wednesday, everyone we met remarked on what a beautiful day it was. Mark and I ate breakfast on our balcony, watching the village come alive on the street below. Before we brought our cameras out we watched a caravan of donkeys go by with empty bins on their backs. We never saw them again nor found out what their job was. Here are some of the pictures we took from our balcony:

Drinking the espresso that Mark learned to make.
He wants an espresso maker for Father's Day!

A parking lot for people who don't have a
place for their car or motorcycle near their home.

The school bus had Frozen pictures on its sides.
Our granddaughter would love to ride in that bus!

There was a garden store below our apt.
The owner put his wares outside each morning. 

       

       Having spent five days on planes, buses, trains, and a ferry, we looked forward to spending a day exploring this little village on foot. This meant climbing and descending hundreds of stairs, and trodding narrow passageways, with no particular destination in mind. 

Bob Art is sold in shops all over the Amalfi Coast.
We happened to come across the artist in his shop
and bought ceramic espresso cups from Bob himself.

       Our wanderings brought us to a breakfast buffet being served under a lemon arbor. It was the only restaurant in Praiano that was not on a busy road. It was definitely my favorite meal spot in Italy.

       This would have been a perfect day if we didn't have to do laundry that night. Ivan had tried to explain how to operate the washing machine in our apartment, but the computer-operated machine did not behave and we were stuck with sopping wet clothes and water on the floor. Ivan did his best to rectify the situation, but finally came to the conclusion that the ten-year-old machine was broken and had to be replaced. We spent at least two hours in the apartment, working with Ivan on the washing machine, and then wringing out clothes to hang on a drying rack. There do not appear to be any driers in Italy, which is admirable from an environmental standpoint, but Mark was completely out of clean shirts. Fortunately, one of the shirts was dry enough to wear the next morning.