over the Easter Weekend.
The sublime Spring weather seduced visitors into thinking Summer had arrived early. Clothes were quickly shed and creamy-winter bodies lay lusciously soaking up the warmth. My favourite spot to survey the crowds and goings-on whilst sipping on a glass of aglianico wine, Covo dei Saraceni, had its tables out again and I received the heartiest welcome from Emanuele, Franco, Mario and the rest of the gang. The beach-front restaurants of Chez Black, Le Tre Sorelle, La Bucca di Bacco and La Cambusa were filled to capacity and take-away pizza's overflowed to the beach where youngsters sat in groups hungrily devouring their Margherita's from their cardboard boxes, gummy strands of warm, molten mozzarella stretching from container to salivating palate, and washed back with cold Peroni....ahhhh, the bliss!
But up above Positano, in the Lattari mountains which rise protectively around Positano, a sense of solace quietly chimed Spring's burgeoning; the sweet sound of Nature sang out and wild scents gently perfumed the air. Away from the milieu of the 'maddening crowds' below, it was just the crisp crunch of brittle winter leaves that reminded me I had escaped to the essence of Spring itself.
Standing on a rocky ledge where, legend has it, the devil himself left an imprint of his tail after furiously flicking it against the rock in angry defeat (The Virgin Mary having perforated the mountain - after which Montepertuso is named - and the devil merely denting it), I looked upon Positano below, bathed in surreal late-afternoon light, breathed in the pine-forest perfumes, then raised my face towards the sunshine-shards piercing the pine-tree's and remembered why I'd chosen to come and live here: It's my Heaven and Earth.
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