Positano, 28 August 2021

English | Castellano

It was 5 PM and I hadn’t even had lunch, I was coming straight from Napoli. I followed the road, which always faced the sea, until I finally reached Positano. It was a hilly town, full of colorful houses piled on top of each other. The place was full of motorcycles and there was only one road, one way, that went down around the village. I didn’t have much time, it was Sunday, my last day of my trip and on Monday I had to work remotely from my friends’ house in Rome.

Positano was crowded everywhere, totally gentrified. The parking lots along the road were extremely expensive. I followed the town down until I finally decided to put the Fiat in a parking lot – impossible to haggle with them. In the parking lot I changed, put on my bathing suit and started walking.

The streets were full of stairs and people going up and down all the time. The town was spectacular, full of details, soft colors and small corners looking to the sea. People were running from one side to the other and those who were not, were doing it on scooters at full speed.
In the middle of this tide I saw an older man with an extremely tanned complexion from the sun. As I passed him he looked at me and asked, “What are you looking for, boy?”. “The beach” – I answered him.

He explained to me in a very detailed way. “There are two ways, if you follow that street you will find two iron lions…”. I thanked him cordially and ran down until I reached the small pebble beach hidden between the two big blocks of rock that the gentleman had indicated to me. I took off my clothes and went straight into the water. After a while immersed in the warm water, I looked back at Positano. Only then could I see all its grandeur, color and beauty. The sun was pointing directly at the town saturating all its colors and creating beautiful scenes.

After a while on the beach, I gathered my things and walked up another narrow path that ran along the hillside of the town. Time was running out and I reluctantly decided it was time to return to Rome. I went back up the infinite stairs and met the same man again, in the same place. We exchanged glances and smiled at each other. I approached him and we started talking.

His name was Mario, he was 83 years old and had been born and lived all his life in Positano. He spoke perfect English. “I have always worked in the hotel down there” – he said smiling. He asked me about myself, “I live in Berlin but I grew up in the Basque Country,” – I said.
He couldn’t resist speaking to me in German. He had been married to an Austrian lady. He had also been in Berlin before the wall came down. From then on I started throwing one question after another at him, which Mario always answered with a smile. “What do you like best about Positano?” – I asked him. “Positano!” – he answered me expressively, as if it were a truism.

He told me that years ago, the townspeople who lived at the top of the hill used to walk down (and up) the hundreds of stairs every day to do their daily shopping. “Now there’s a road” – easier.
I looked away from Mario for a moment and watched again the fast flow of people passing by us. Me, however, I completely forgot about the car, Rome and that the next day was Monday.

“Mario, there are a lot of people in Positano, I guess years ago this was very different. Does this constant flow of people bother you? – I asked him . “No! “Normally no and the day I don’t want to see people, I go home and look at the sea” – he smiled at me again. Mario lived in a privileged house in the middle of Positano, with a balcony overlooking the sea. It belonged to his family.

Every year, an American man, Jack Steinberger, stayed at the hotel where Mario worked. He was a Nobel Prize winner in physics. Every year Mario would wait on him and over time they became friends. Jack dedicated one of his books to Mario from Positano.

At 83 years old, Mario was still in love with his town and could not imagine a better place to have spent his life. “And what’s it like in winter?” – I asked, “Oh, it’s beautiful. The weather is not so good but the town is empty and the sea has another character. I love to look at the sea in winter.”

“Hey” – he said to me. “Have you visited the village yet?”

“Not really” – I answered him.

“Come on, let’s go see it” – he said as he stood up briskly from his seat.

We walked together and went through Positano, passing by its small church, its houses, bars, restaurants. Mario went first and as he greeted his people, he described aloud to me the corners of his town. We got to a little balcony with a view and continued chatting.

“You have to go down to see the town” – Mario told me. He gave me clear indications again: “You have to go down this hill, (…) you will end up seeing two iron lions (…)”. And so I did, reaching the heart of Positano, crossing a tide of people with accents from all over the world. I followed the path until I arrived back to where Mario was still sitting.

“Where are you going now?” “To Rome” – I replied. “Oh! That’s far away!” – he told me with much enthusiasm. After a few more words, we said goodbye smiling at each other.