At a dinner party recently, a friend asked my husband and me where we honeymooned. “Oh, you know, the Amalfi Coast,” I said inspecting my cuticles and shrugging nonchalantly. “No biggie.”
“We haven’t been on our honeymoon yet,” Hubbie said, giving me the side-eye (as he often did.)
I took a nervous gulp from my glass of Chardonnay. “We all have our mistruths,” I said.
“Mis-truths?” Our friend wanted some clarification on this.
“He means lies,” Hubbie said.
Technically, we haven’t been on our honeymoon since we tied the knot in August of 2018.
Okay, not technically. We just haven’t. Happy now, Hubbie?!
To us, the prospect of hopping on a plane and hightailing it to some exotic destination after the wedding was an endangered prospect. It rested at the edge of a cliff, threatening to jump if we came any closer.
Because “Life” got in the way.
So I allowed myself one itty-bitty mistruth: our trip to the Amalfi Coast in 2017 was the best honeymoon we never had. Thanks, in part, to the beautiful island of Capri.
Once the playground of Mr. Caesar Augustus in 29BC, modern-day Capri is now one of Italy’s most sought-after destinations in the world.
When Hubbie and I visited, we wound through narrow cobblestone streets with our mouths agape; slow drools trickling down from our lips to our chins. We were transfixed by its sheer splendor.
From the Grotta Azzurra, or “Blue Grotto,” and its shimmering blue/yellow light (as if some bioluminescent creature lay dormant below, to the Piazzetta, the bustling town square, Capri had a delightful surprise around every corner.
We veered off into narrow passageways, losing ourselves and finding beauty along every step of the way, including the gardens of Villa San Michele and the zig-zagging trail of Via Krupp, which puts San Francisco’s Lombard Street to shame. Eventually, we stumbled upon Via Camerelle where a flash mob broke into song and dance and performed “Little Town” from the opening scene of Beauty and the Beast.
“None of that happened,” Hubbie said.
“Shhhhhhhh, babe. Let me speak my truth.”
Anyway, it seemed that the farther up we climbed the quaint little island of Capri, the farther up we wanted to go. Into the sky. So we did. Literally.
We caught a bus from the Piazzetta to Anacapri where the Seggiovia Monte Solaro awaited us. At the station, chairs that operated as a ski lift took us to the tippy-top of the island. Going up towards Monte Solaro — a mighty two-thousand-foot ascension — was exhilarating, breathtaking and balls-shrinkingly good.
“Okay, this we actually did,” Hubbie said.
We took in the view. Below was deep blue water dotted in white by yachts and boats along the harbor. There was a cool, gentle breeze enveloping us as we stood tall on the mountain. And on the horizon, there was a pink sunset so breathtaking it would make you shit your pants (followed by a lovely twilight to make you feel a little bit better about shitting your pants.)
From a wellness perspective, Monte Solaro was the moment to relish. Over the years, I trained myself to identify these special minutes in the day. They arrive quietly, shrouded in calm, demanding our attention. But all too often, I ignored them because I was checking my work emails or responding to my boss’ text after business hours.
Nowadays, I eschew all technology and distractions when these calming moments arrive (and you should, too.)
On Monte Solaro, the instructions were loud and clear: relax, breathe, enjoy the calm.
Standing tall on that highest peak of Capri, nothing felt unconquerable. If you’re lucky enough to do this on a perfect day, with the perfect company, on a perfect island, then what more can you ask for?
So, if you’re thinking about where to go on your honeymoon (or would like to pretend where you went), trust me: you’ll definitely want to consider Capri. Because Capri isn’t just “nice,” “enjoyable,” or “pleasant.” It’s fucking incandescent.
Oh, and one last request: if you do end up going, please don’t fuck it up.
I mean, don’t be another annoying American in Italy. Download Duolingo, watch “The Postman” ten times in a row, or do whatever it takes to learn some basic Italian. Familiarize yourself with the culture and local customs before you go. Seriously, just make a damn effort to contribute to your experience and the experience of others along your journey. Be humble, gracious and keep an open mind.
And forfucksake, be delightful.