Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - I. Youth
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fisherman who had tried to climb up there in
search of sea-gulls’ eggs had been hurled back
into the sea by an evil spirit, who lived there in
the shape of a blue lizard, as blue as the Blue
Grotto, to keep watch over a golden treasure
hidden there by Timberio himself.
Towering over the friendly little village the
sombre outline of Monte Solaro stood out against
the Western sky with its stern crags and
inaccessible cliffs.
“I want to climb that mountain at once,”
said I.
But Gioia did not like the idea at all. A steep
path, seven hundred and seventy-seven steps,
cut in the rock by Timberio himself led up the
flank of the mountain, and half-way up in a
dark cave lived a ferocious werewolf who had
already eaten several cristiani. On the top of the
stairs was Anacapri, but only gente di montagna
lived there, all very bad people; no forestieri
ever went there and she herself had never been
there. Much better climb to the Villa Timberio,
or the Arco Naturale or the Grotta Matromania!
“No, I had no time, I must climb that
mountain at once.”
Back to the Piazza, just as the rusty bells of
the old campanile were ringing 12 o’clock to
announce that the macaroni was ready. Wouldn’t
I at least have luncheon first under the big
palm-tree of the Albergo Pagano. Tre piatti, vino a
volontà, prezzo una lira. No, I had no time, I
had to climb the mountain at once. “Addio, Gioia
bella, bella! Addio Rosina!” “Addio, addio
e presto ritorno!” Alas! for the presto ritorno!
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