OK, its paparazzi time..

Snapped from my little hidey hole on the pier because I didn't want to been seen taking piccies, so the quality is not great.
Isabella Rossellini leaving for the yacht. She wandered aroud town alone and paddled on the shore, wearing a linen kaftan and make-up free:



And, as I was helping people onto our boat this morning a Spanish lady let out a squeal when she saw this lady arrive on a tender. She assured me that the lady was very well known, but couldn't remember who it was so I took a few piccies just in case. Any ideas? Could it be Princess Michael of Kent?

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IMAGE_012.jpg, originally uploaded by saponissimo.

Just testing. (This is my sexy wheelbarrow by the way, watch me as I weave deftly between the tourists!)

I have been strangely absent from the computer over the last few weeks. I haven't felt inclined to bore you with more pictures of my weekly work bonuses in their many fishy forms, or overwhelm you with stories of life on the pier. Although somethings could be worth mentioning like the other afternoon when Isabella Rossillini walked past or taking part in various waterbomb fights between the different boat companies, I have generally been far too knackered to even contemplate turning the computer on at the end of the day and writing it all down.

So now I am sitting in my little cabin on the pier with a cool air-conditioned breeze blowing gently on me (and the stray dog at my feet who comes to keep me company every day). It occurs to me as I briefly check my email on my phone that I could probably write a blog post and post it too, during the blisteringly hot after lunch lull that occurs every afternoon.

I start typing in word with my thumbs, it is slow work and I am interrupted every now and then. A couple come and book a trip to Capri, then Lila runs over from the beach to get her lilo. The dog at my feet stretches and turns over, wrapping his paw affectionately around my ankle and I see Luca waving at me from his kayak, gesturing that he is off on his daily paddle to the Galli Islands.

My thumbs start to cramp and I decide to try and transfer what I have written to the blog. I must see if I can post photos from my phone too, I managed it when we went to Asia but have since forgotten how. The ten millionth person comes over and asks me for a ferry ticket to Amalfi. I patiently direct them next door and wait for the next one...

Fireworks displays would be so much nicer to go to if they were held before midnight! As a consequence of staying up for this one last night we have spent the best part of the afternoon in bed catching up on our sleep. The cleaning and food shopping can wait another day.

Spending all day every day on the pier has drastically cut down my internet time. I arrive home exhausted, but still have to cook, clean, wash etc, and finally end up in a collapsed heap on the sofa for about an hour before bedtime with a desire but no strength to turn the computer on.(Have managed to turn on laptop now due to extra free time caused by rough seas and cancelled boats.)

I have heard rumours that there may be a wifi antenna put up near the beach soon, which would solve all my problems, but will have to wait and see. In the meantime I have finally finished my crocheted blanket which has caused much mirth and teasing by the workers on the pier, as crocheting is only done by old grannies apparantly.

And here is a picture of my latest bonus for good work. A pesce bandiera, or pesce serra...I have no idea what the English name is for it, but it was very long, very tasty and very much appreciated!

Busy busy busy...
My life seems to consist of just work and sleep, interspersed with a odd little distractions like:
Trying to figure out HOW many times Lila has managed to get stung by jellyfish whilst trying to catch them...
And trying to decide what on earth I am going to do with the huge octopus that I was given as I finished work the other day. (Note: it was one of these, not the whole tub.)
"Here, Charlie, this is for you, take it home and cook it."
I watched as he poured the slimey creature into a plastic bag. I gulped.
" Er, thanks, but I haven't a clue how to cook it.." I said faintly.
"Easy, just cut open the head and clean it out then boil it til it's cooked."

I held up the bag and shuddered, I doubted that I could even TOUCH the thing let alone clean out its HEAD! So I did the only think I could think of and got Luca to take it around to his parents house. They could clean its head and cook it.
Apparantly they were chuffed to bits with it.

We like to offer our passengers on the boat trips a glass of cold sparkling wine in the afternoon, with some little pastries after they have had a swim. It makes the trip a bit more special and gets them all talking. However, the other morning we made a grave, grave mistake when packing the drinks into the cool box.
As the boat came back that afternoon, the captain glared at us to show his disapproval at something we had done wrong and Gloria (who acts as a hostess/guide) tutted at us and waggled her finger.. What could it be, we wondered? Hadn’t everything gone smoothly that morning? Surely we hadn’t forgotten anything?

After we helped the people off the boat and gathered up the towels and ice-box Gloria told us that we had left the bottle of Prosecco at the top of the ice box and it was warm, way too warm to drink, but they had drunk it anyway. The captain was very upset and the passengers had been disappointed, we mustn’t let it happen again....

The next morning we carefully prepared the ice-box, burying the bottle of prosecco right at the bottom and packing it with ice. We added extra ice on top and confidently loaded it on board.

Oh dear. That afternoon we stood on the pier as the boat came back and waved at our clients. One man stood up and greeted us with a huge grin, “the prosecco was wonderful!”
“ Yes, its good isn’t it?” I enthused, “ I’m glad you liked it!”
He grinned back at me and they all started laughing. As we helped them off the boat I noticed that even the captain was smiling and shaking his head at us. Gloria was literally shaking with mirth.
“Girls, come here,” Gloria called when she was settled back on land. “ You did very well at packing the prosecco in ice, but unfortunately it was yesterdays empty bottle. It was a very cold bottle, but also a very emptly bottle! Luckily the captain found it funny so you won’t get into too much trouble, but girls...tomorrow please get it right!”

The next day we finally got it right; a full bottle of icy cold sparkling wine was opened and apparently the passengers drank a toast to us, ‘the two girls who finally got something right.’

Best not to go paddling today...We've had an invasion:
They may be small but their sting BURNS like hell and leaves a nasty whip-mark on the skin. The sea is full of them at the moment, I took these photos just leaning over the edge of the pier.

At 8 in the morning the beach is nearly empty and the pier is quiet and calm. I take my stripey mug to the bar where they obligingly fill it with tea and I stand in the early morning sunlight, sipping my steaming tea and enjoying the peacefulness of the new morning.


Soon, as the clock inches its way towards 9AM , a slow trickle of people start making their way down, eager to catch the first boats to Capri. Suddenly the pier is full of life, boats coming and going, people shouting and waving, taking photos, asking questions, running here and there. Amongst all the confusion we load up our fist boat fo people for Capri and wave them goodbye.

As the clock ticks on and the boats pull away all goes quiet again for a while. A brief respite before the next groups of ferries come in at 10AM, disgorging rowdy school groups and excited tourists. So many people mill around it is impossible not to bump into them so I retreat to the cabin and watch patiently.


As the pier empties once again we scan the horizon for Salvatore on his fishing boat. There he is, coming around the tower! We help carry this mornings catch up to the fishmongers, he's caught all sorts of fish, large octopuses, a scary looking eel and lots of crabs.

The sun is high now and I have to rub on some suncream. Morning is fast becoming afternoon and that fresh sparkly morning light has gone. Before I started working I though I would HATE getting up and going out early every morning, but I enjoy the tranquility and peace on the beach before everybody else gets there.

Luca turned away from the balcony and announced that he would give 100 euro to anybody who went down and danced in the piazza like Lila, but nobody did. What a shame that one day, Lila too, will become too embarrassed to dance alone in the square without a care in the world.