After a rained out trip on the Isle of Capri, one of my roommates decided to find a way to warm up Sorrento Style: with a nice helping of Limoncello. That Saturday night she got completely plastered, and failed to realize that no one else was really sharing in her fun. In the wee hours of the morning, she finally got carried to bed after making a mess of herself in the hotel hall.

Unfortunately for her, we were to spend Sunday in a full bus; she showed up the next morning very late to breakfast, falling asleep into her bowl of cereal. More unfortunately, we were going to be driving down the coast of Amalfi; which besides being astonishingly beautiful is full of windings and sheer drops right next to the road. I was a little nervous as we drove along the sheer cliff, and I was completely sober. All I can say about her is that she has not had limoncello since, and I would wager a guess that neither has the guy who was on the seat next to her for that trip.

Sickness aside, the Amalfi Coast is completely gorgeous. The sky and sea blue enought to break your heart, while the tiny (or large) Italian villas that rest in the inner bits of the coast are enough to give your heart romantic longings.

At one particularly rest stop (I will post a picture of this in my profile, if you are interested--I look terrible inthe picture, but the background is fantastic!), We noticed a man with a fruit stand selling what had to be the largest lemons I had seen in my life. Our teacher bought one, and generoulsy let us try a bite. The inside was a bit of a shock--the lemon was the size of my head, but the citrusy inside was about the same size as a regular lemon; the rind being the overwhelming majority. Surpisingly, we were told to eat all of it except for the very outside rim, and we obliged. It was like a sweet and sour experience--The citrus part was not as overpowering as lemons in the state; only a little tartness to pucker at; but the rind had a subtely sweet taste that was very surprising.

We stopped in the town of Positano, which was on the larger side of the small Italian towns. Since Carnivale was still on, a small street fair was being held, mostly for the sake of children: the were a few game stands and booths with treats, along with face painting. There were also booths with voting propaganda; I took some stickers to support their candidate. We walked along the beach, and my roommate and I stood in the water and said, "Ahhhh, Italia, you are my heart".
Well, not really, but I'm sure we were thinking it.