For new readers, who may not have read my author notes, this is written in a conversational way as I talk to my deceased husband. When I refer to someone just as "you" this means I am addressing my husband, Evan.

Around three a.m., Joy and I were awakened by the sound of a telephone ringing in the room next to ours. The walls were thinner than we realized because we heard a man’s voice speaking loudly, although we couldn’t quite make out what was being said. After that we heard what sounded like sobs. The intermittent talking and sobbing went on for the next two hours. We didn’t know for sure who had the room, but we felt it was likely someone on our tour. The hotel had reserved several floors for just our group. It was morning before we learned the call was for the young Jacksonville couple who were friends with Joy. The man had gotten an urgent call from home letting him know his father had passed away unexpectedly. He’d spent part of the night trying to book a flight back to the states. It turned out no flights were available right away, and he and his wife would have to remain with the tour another day or so. 

He wasn’t the only one who’d spent part of the night on the phone. Our tour company’s home office and our guide had been frantically trying to make arrangements for alternate plans for our tour. The tour of Assisi had been scrapped. Hours before we were to travel there, the city suffered two devastating earthquakes with a magnitude of 5.7 and 6. Eleven people were killed and many of the injured were buried under the rubble for hours.

The two major quakes that struck close to each other caused part of the Basilica of Saint Francis at Assisi to collapse, destroying the 28 Giotto Frescos which were over 800-years-old. The Basilica was already under reconstruction, which had further weakened it. It was one of the main places we were scheduled to visit. Work on this church dated back to 1228. There were 1000’s of aftershocks and dust covered the city. Over 70% of the building had to be evacuated. The quake was felt in parts of Rome, but we hadn’t felt it. 

The earthquake may have made our tour more interesting, because arrangements were made for us to go, instead to the Amalfi coast. I wouldn’t have wanted to have missed that. We had to travel further Southwest. We were on the road a little over three hours. Much of the time, we traveled along the water. We would be spending several days along the Gulf of Salerno. It was situated where the shoelaces would be in the boot of Italy.

I was shocked when I saw what looked like houses stacked on top of each other on the side of the mountain jutting out into the sea. The area is densely populated with a lot of the homes being vacation places. There are narrow streets running among the houses, but we didn’t see them right away. It was unnerving as our bus traveled through the steep winding streets. Sometimes we would approach another bus on the curves, and both would have to slow to a crawl and somehow manipulate their way around each other. The water below was very blue and the colorful houses were of a very European style architecture. Many tropical trees, lush vines and flowers, particularly bougainvillea bushes, were everywhere.

There are 17 beautiful mountain towns located along the Amalfi coast. We would be staying in Sorento which is one of the larger towns with a big-city feel. Our motel was fabulous. Our room had a balcony overlooking a beautiful pool below us, but neither of us had brought bathing suits. We stayed there for three nights. Our tour guide took advantage of the pool as well as the beach below.  

For most of the noon meals, we were on our own, but there were many places to eat. Eating at tables outside and enjoying the view was one way we chose to dine. I happened to love Italian food and I wasn’t disappointed in anything other than the pizza. They make their pizza very different from American pizza. Instead of the slow-cooked sauce we are used to, they use pureed tomatoes and a different blend of herbs. They don’t have a wide choice of toppings in Italy. There was usually only one topping or none. The crust is cracker-thin and the cheese is fresh, but they don’t use as much as on American pizzas. There are a few different kinds, but none are like the American pizzas. I imagine ours have a lot more calories. I have to admit, I prefer American pizza.

It was a bit of a surprise to find many of the stores closed for several hours in the middle of the day to give their owners rest periods. The evening meals seemed different as well. You and I were accustomed to having our meals last around thirty-minutes, and then, we tended to move on. Italians might take two or three hours to finish their meals, while relaxing, socializing and always consuming the readily available wine. The people seem very laid- back and friendly. In the places we were visiting, the shop owners were used to tourists, and most seemed to speak English. We used the lira which we’d gotten before leaving the states, but they were willing to take American money and the shops took credit cards. Most of the European countries had their own currency before they had started using the Euro.

There were many sidewalk businesses. One place had a large plate glass window, and there was a grape vine that looked like a tree trunk growing up toward the ceiling in the middle of the room. It was in a restaurant, and you could watch the chefs preparing the meals.

One of the group activities took us though a beautiful old home and museum. It included a walking tour through arches and gardens with fountains and beautiful statues. I learned these tours involve a lot of walking. I was glad I had an opportunity to do this one while I was still comfortable taking long walks. 

I called home every evening and you seemed anxious to hear from me. You didn’t tell me much about our children, but you wanted to know we were okay. You’d heard about the earthquake and knew we were scheduled to be there. Joy never called home at all. I asked if she wasn’t concerned about her children, particularly the younger daughter who had been in the nursing home so long with liver failure. Joy said, “If anything happens, I don’t want to know. I don’t think I could survive the long trip home while grieving over something tragic which might have happened. It would be better if I don’t know anything until I return."

Joy and I both took photos constantly throughout the day. Unfortunately, we just had small point-and-shoot cameras. Digital cameras were available, but they were still huge and very expensive. It would cost a small fortune to get all of our rolls of film developed when we got home, and we would usually be disappointed with the results. So far I’d not spent money on souvenirs. When Joy bought something, she had to pay shipping to get it back to the states, because we had no extra room in our small suitcases.