Portofino

Portofino



Portofino, Italy is the kind of place you would expect to run into a James Bond villain. You have stunning villas in the hills with tiny roads begging for a car chase, and a small port town no larger than you'd need to have an epic combat scene.....

     

Okay, I can kind of see it...missing a big intimidating yacht full of villains tho

pretty....too pretty....

Ha...spoke too soon....

The big creepy yacht came in a little bit after I arrived, which completely sold the 007 vibe. The vibe got stronger as the day went on...I was off to Hotel Splendido for olive oil tasting....because wine tasting is for the peasants. This hotel also looks like it belongs on set...look at this beautiful bish...(i had to pull this pic from TripAdvisor because literally you need an ariel view to see this and no chopper for me today) 

Nothing nefarious ever happens here....we swear.

Walking up to this monstrous hotel on this cliff overlooking the med was givin me feels.  You had all the nice cars you could imagine at the valet, and somewhere in those walls was an exchange of codes to nuclear weapons in return of some hot cougar. I was here for an olive oil tasting, so I had no patience for espionage. 

If you stir it....I swear to god Karen. 

Now,  I had not done an olive tasting before; forgive my uncouth pallet. IT WAS ALL FUCKING AMAZINGGGGGGGGG. The host presented us with 3 types of olive oils to try....and of course there has to be a process to this.

Step 1: pour olive oil into what looks like a ramen spoon.

Step 2: cup the spoon with your hands to add heat

Step 3: when warm, smell the olive oil

Step 4: put your dick in it....ha jk...

Step 5: SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS!!! 

These olive oils were next level delicious. It really grinds in the fact that in the US we have absolute garbage with no taste and limited opportunity to know otherwise. My entire salad eating life had been turned up side down....was this the nefarious scheme? Make my taste buds crave Italian olvie oils, deny me of them, snap mentally when i don't get my fix and kill that Euarasian dude? ...I see.   Too bad I am one step ahead of them. (checks Amazon) 

........

O

Okay...I just decided to get through the tasting....spit most of it out....and enjoy the setting...they can't know I'm onto them.

I peaced out from the hotel and made my way to the only other logical place you would go in these Bond situations.....a castle, duh. The walk was freaking incredible. I wandered all kinds of paths up and down, taking in the scenes jamming to Queen B. 

 FUCKING CUTE

Endless green, tons of blue, and flowers blooming thier best blooms...movie quality shit

           

 SO. MUCH. VIEWS

                 

That rando sea side house that could blow up at any second....

                           

Piskeresk Hunty

 

Behold, the castle

The castle was not what was expected, (typical dead end in the plot) , I rechecked my map and set a new course for the next logical spot...

I putzed around and saw all this beautiful shit until getting to the tip of a peninsula that holds a lighthouse. Now,  it just happened to be on the map near the little castle and decided to check it out since it wasn't much out of the way (Bond hunch). OH!!!! Surprise fucking surprise...this lighthouse IS A COCKTAIL BAR!!!! You are walking towards what loooks like a kind of ghetto lighthouse,  then you come down a winding path around to the front side that faces the water...bam! Bar! In no conceivable realm of reality would I have expected a bar at the base of a lighthouse in  the middle of nowhere....ah thats right...Bond film. A location like this is prime for meeting with my nemesis before thwarting their plot. 

                

I won't pretend I took this for the drink.....

 

*Menacing Orchestral Music*

 Look     at that squint after 2 martinis   and a mini moet.

As it turns out, I did infact meet my nemesis....the most evil of conversational hangups...the disaster that is the US Imperial System vs Metric System. Allow me to set the scene. Sunny, breezy, I am two Espresso martinis into this and a group of travelers sit down whom are no older than myself.  Jabber begins... 

European: “whenever I have a recipe I have no idea. We have small cups, we have cups for coffee, we have big cups”...

American:....”it’s one standard size, it’s 12 oz"

Me: *sitting alone at the next table* snort laughing because of her cups idea and I know it’s 8oz. 

Another Traveler: *chimes in*  “it’s totally different when you bake, everything is weighted”.

Me: deceased 

....It sunk in to me, this was a war I could not win. This was an issue bigger than myself. The enemy had taken victory long before it could be stopped...would international baking ever really work ?  I pray to Mary Berry that it does. ....WAIT, THATS IT!!!!   Mary Berry! 

I see you

Following the money; she is behind the olive oil distribution....she funded legislation to protect the separation of our measurement systems in order to retain control of key global markets and lobbies against distribution of high quality baking ingredients to the US...everything was so clear....of course..................I am drunk.  Time to go home .07 

I’m not leaning against this wall, the wall is leaning against me.  

Walking back to the boat this way was awesome. I came down a path and found a handsome gentleman peeing (is this my Bond girl?), then nearly fell down some flights of stairs...it was grand.  On the way back there were an odd amount of doors I hadnt noticed the first time. So. Many. Doors.

How I let people in.

                           

Somebody could trip

At some point they will see me taking pics of them,  taking video of me

The next time you want to feel like you're in a Bond film....you know where to go. 




                           **UPDATE:    I     WAS     RIGHT! **

Isola d'Elba

Isola d'Elba 

Of course, in the planning of my trips are rooted in some stupid populate reason...I arrive in Africa on a 12:30 flight, spend nights in Bangkok to be humbled, Hawaii for Monana, so on and so forth. SO...lets have a guess at where I was going with this...  

The island of Elba was my first taste of Italy that wasn't a man or olive garden, so I was a little not sure how to act! This island under the Tuscan sun is known for white beaches and the place of exile for Napoleon.  I didn't know about the Napoleon thing at the time, but now I have significantly less sympathy for him because ban me to this place, I DARE YOU!!!  There was a v general idea of  things I needed to do…. eat pizza…. drink wine….and use stereotypical hand gestures. Perhaps my time with all those Italian men and breadsticks will pay off ....it won't 

"bitch"

                            

 I'm no Diane Lane but I'm still out here looking for adventure. I started my day with an Italian workout, then set my eyes on the nearest castle looking structure AND fled. Covering this whole island on foot is a do-able challenge if you don't mind super long walks and -have heaps of time to spare. It's slightly larger than Catalina island in California, but you can't compare the two in any other way. Biking would be the best option here to get a-b quickly while enjoying the scene but thats not my speed...  ..Italy just made me happy

I'm making my way up a hill to Forte Falcone... taking it all in... this didn't come off like some horrid place you'd send someone  as a punishment...even if all these cool buildings weren't here, the island is a beaut!!  Sure, its not as big as you thought it would be, but you still have fun on it....and that goes the same for this island.  wait. wut. 

the pizza shop with the blue awning...incredible. 

THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE LIKE <3

I'm not kidding. look at this place!.... *cue artsy shot of a bird and unique plants*

                                                                       

I walked  down the coast to see what the neighborhoods were like...no surprise, full of bush.. 

Much like OG breadsticks, the hills are fu*king endless. You walk away from the coast, up a random hill and boom, this emerges. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? THIS WAS A PUNISHMENT!?!?!?  

My directionless journey landed me roughly 10 miles (12KM )from the start into the middle of a residential neighborhood on some random street a couple miles out from Porto Azzuro. Suddenly, a large group of bikes comes wizzing by me....and as the last riders glide by I hear "HI CHRIS!"....."HEY Chris!"....and turn to see my favorite Australians staring back at  me.....you aussies...<3  

...Story time:

I met this Australian couple on my boat during the "ho for history" booze and tapaps tour in Cartagena ..they were V impressed by my ability to booze.  I ran into them next in an absolutely random alley way in the middle of Barcelona.....and then once more  in Monaco hanging around the palace....to be in the middle of some random ass residential neighborhood in the hills of this Italian city had me laughing so hard i nearly peeded.

Right here in front of the villa  cosmopoli 

another endless feeling stretch of walking and I ran into signs for Capo Bianco beach....I like beach... 

Okay, here we gooooo!

It doe

 OH WOW! I can't wait to get down to the water.... 

Lots of beaches on this island have this lewk

uhhhh. WTF!?  my friend, this is not a "beach", it's a stone garden on the water...

this should hurt your feet just looking at it

seriously, these are good sized rocks to be walking on like its some fine grit sand that playfully falls between your toes. Another consistent Italian experience filled with lots of :ouch:, :ahhh: :fuck: and :ohhhhh: 

All this nonsense was making me hungry. *opens google* "pizza"....the best one is back literally where I began....10 miles away...

What is this? center for ants!?..

                                         

                            This building is fat shaming.

Wishing I had a slinkey

...by the time I arrived they tell me "full menu no more...pizza and wine only". (didn't need the excuse but since its all they had). 

I was still scarred from Monaco and literally fork n knifed this pizza.  but what a dayyyyy. My list had been completed for my first time in Italy, and I leave happily  with a belly full of Italian goodness. 

            

Enjoy your exile Napoleon, you freakin idiot....

goShh