One summer, a few years ago, I took the Marozzi bus from Rome, Autostazione Tiburtina to Praiano, on the beautiful Amalfi Coast. It was a dream road trip. The six-hour trip was picturesque and enjoyable until we entered the Amalfi Coast. Then, we began driving uphill and downhill on windy, one-lane mountain roads. Imagine the bus ascending with its right tires on the edge of a cliff overlooking the stunning blue waters. One misstep and we would tumble into the Tyrrhenian Sea. At this moment, you’re not enjoying the view because you suddenly found religion and you’re now praying for your survival. And then, you look to your left, and guess what you see? Crazy Italian drivers! Cars and motorcycles emerged from oncoming traffic and raced past the huge bus as if we weren’t literally zip-lining on this tiny mountainous road overlooking a deep blue sea. I still remember the screams from the fear-stricken passengers. The funniest part was we were all leaning to the right as if our efforts would stop the bus from tumbling off the cliff on our left side.
So, we finally arrived at my stop in Praiano, after passing Napoli, Sorrento, and Positano…what a relief! Yay! I am alive! I got off the bus with my large, rolling suitcase. This was before I learned the art and importance of traveling light around Europe. One thing I hadn’t anticipated was the fact that my hotel was located on top of a hill. Therefore, I was forced to drag my heavy suitcase about a mile uphill from the bus stop to reach my hotel. I could have taken a taxi, but the bus driver told me they had fewer than five taxis in the area, and finding one immediately available was unlikely.
Finally, I reached the hotel. It was a small, old family-run hotel, quite charming with the most beautiful view you’ve ever seen. They even upgraded me to the honeymoon suite, che bello!! By this time, I was tired and hungry, but I couldn’t eat the view. So, after settling in, I decided to venture out to find some food. After searching on Google, I found a gorgeous seafood restaurant located close to the sea. It was famous for its views.
Reaching the restaurant involved navigating over 1,000 stairs downhill and getting lost in a maze of cute Italian villas and pathways. My Italian is very limited, so asking for directions was a little challenging. I could only say the name of the restaurant. But I guess I made some sense because, at one point, a lovely Italian grandmother held my hand and guided me toward the correct path leading to the restaurant.
When I arrived at the restaurant, it was a sight to behold – simply fabulous. I almost patted myself on the back for finding such a gem within ten minutes of Googling “the best restaurants near me” and simply trusting my gut. And yes, my gut was very hungry. I needed some good Italian food! And just like in the movies, a tall, handsome Italian man appeared out of nowhere and introduced himself as my server/host/the guy I would be flirting with throughout the meal, well, until it came time to pay the bill.
So, Vulcan was six feet four inches of charm, with glistening olive skin, deep dark eyes, and muscles that would make Hercules cry with envy. Between serving other guests, including a group of loud American guests (eye-roll), he would stand next to me to keep me company because “How could a bella ragazza eat alone? It’s a crime!” And your girl was not complaining. After coming from the “love desert” that was Los Angeles, where finding a guy with natural charm and wit was like finding a needle in a haystack, I felt like I had finally found an oasis. And thirsty I was, I’m not going to lie. So, I let his hotness sit or stand there while I recounted his adventurous journey riding his Harley from Europe to North Africa while I sipped delicious cocktails and the freshest seafood salad ever.
I planned to go to Positano after my meal. There was a local bus next to my hotel that could take me there, but the last bus back to the hotel was around 8:00 PM. I needed to get out of there, despite enjoying being on the receiving end of the finest compliments ever found in an Italian dictionary. So, I asked his hotness for the bill. As he went to get my bill, I started digging into my backpack for my wallet. Oh no! It was nowhere to be found. Then I remembered that I had placed my travel wallet, which also held my passport, in a safe in my room. So yeah, I had nothing on me that could be used as payment.
Vulcan returned with the check. It was about € 30, nothing to cry home about. Since we had been so charming towards each other, I had to tell him what was happening. “Hey Massimo, look, I don’t know what to do. I totally forgot my wallet in my hotel. Is there any other way I could pay? Do you take Google Pay? (I’m an Android Google Pixel chick for life!)” Vulcan shook his head. They didn’t accept any of those alternative payments. It was an old-school restaurant, so it was either card or cash. No Venmo or PayPal either.
So, I told him that my hotel was up the hill, and I could leave my backpack, which contained my laptop as collateral, and go back to the hotel to get my wallet. Vulcan, who suddenly started to look smaller because he couldn’t offer any viable solutions to my big problem, said he would go and ask the owner if I could do that. Meanwhile, I was racking my brain on what to do if he said no. And guess what? The owner said no! At this point, Vulcan was looking and acting like he needed a Xanax or two, the man was literally freaking-out than on the inside, and fighting hard to maintain his composure, he couldn’t even look me directly in the eye. Maybe he knew what my not-so-pretty fate would be, If I failed to find a way to pay for that bill, or maybe it was the passionate Italian in him, but Vulcan was on a brink of erupting. Meanwhile, I was cool as a cucumber. I am one of those people who think clearer when stuffed between a rock and a hard place. I told him not to worry. I would find a way. I would work on a solution— I summoned all my guardian angels for an emergency meeting…in my head. Think, think, think…
Long story short, I remembered that I sort of knew someone in the area, a photographer I had been chatting with on Instagram since I was in Rome. I posted an Instagram picture and changed my location to Rome. Boy oh boy! I got a slew of DMs and follows from guys who wanted to be my friend or meet up to “show me around”. I only took two of them seriously; they seemed harmless enough. This photographer from Amalfi, the next town from Praiano, was one of them. We connected on our love for photography. He really took amazing pictures of nature.
So, I swallowed my pride, put on my big girl panties, and DMed Apollo. “Hey you, I’m in Praiano. Do you want to meet up and go to Positano?” I told him where I was. He responded right away, “Absolutely! I will get on my scooter and be there in 30 minutes.”
Next came the challenge of asking him to pay for my meal once he got there. I mean, I’m literally a stranger to this guy. How do I ask for this favor without sounding like a scammer? Well, I was just going to ask him directly. I had no choice.
Thirty minutes later, I got a text from Apollo. He was parked up the hill (you could only reach the restaurant on foot) So, I could go and meet him there. This is when I had to explain my predicament to him and apologize profusely. I told him I would pay him back. We could go straight to my hotel so I could give him the money before we went to Positano. He was like, “Don’t even think about it. I will come down to pay, and we will leave.”
So, this Italian angel, Apollo, finally descended to the seaside restaurant. He was the opposite of Mr. Tall Chianti, shorter in stature and just oozing intelligence and good-guy energy. After some pleasantries and sharing my relief and appreciation for him, Apollo waved over Vulcan to come over. This sweet guy suddenly turned into a lion and proceeded to roar at Vulcan…in rapid Italian. The gist of the story was that he kept pressing Massimo to explain what the establishment wanted me to do. They couldn’t offer me any alternative to pay, and they didn’t want me to leave. So, Vulcan responded, “I know. I wanted to tell her to just leave. Everyone does it.” So, there are plenty of people who come to the restaurant and dine and dash. I told him, “I’m not everyone. I am the sole Black woman in Praiano. It wouldn’t take long for the police to find me.” And an Italian jail, albeit in Paradise, was not where I wanted to spend my vacation. Anyway, Vulcan was full of apologies, saying that if it were up to him, he would have comped everything. I was thinking, he could spend the whole day flirting, but parting with € 30 was not part of his master flirting plan.
Before we set out for a ride to Positano, Roberto ordered some Italian wine for him and me. An hour later, we were still sitting there in deep conversation, as if we had known each other for years. It was such a weird connection I had with this human. I felt safe with him, yes like he was my guardian angel…well, he somewhat was. The man just saved me from a sticky situation. Apollo was one of the most interesting people I have ever met.
By the time we left the restaurant, it was already dark. Any woman in her right mind would not get on a stranger’s scooter, without a penny in her pockets, and ride down a dark, mountainous road to the swanky Positano, a town she had never been to. Well, my philosophy is, if it feels right, just do it, live, and let live! And it did feel right taking off with Apollo. My “serial killer sensor” did not go off. Well, let me say this, I’m glad I listened to my gut and just went with the flow. I had such an amazing time in Positano. Another stunning city on the Amalfi Coast! We walked around, saw a seaside ballet, ate gelato, and by the night’s end, we were holding hands and falling deep in amore. Just like Cinderella, Roberto dropped me off at my hotel safely by midnight. We would never see each other again, but as long as I live, I will never forget the events that led to me meeting this kind stranger and proceeding to have the best and most wholesome experience of my life.
Memento Vivere!”
