A list of my most unglamourous moments in Positano, in no particular order:
1.Opening the shop, late one morning, feeling very hungover, in clothes from the night before, shoes kicked off, hair smelling of cigarette smoke and scraped back off face. Standing shakily with mop and bucket in my hand, contemplating washing the floor. The door opened and in walked Rod Stewart and Penny Lancaster and a selection of perfect blonde models.
2.Being invited to a hotel owners birthday party, getting drunk and mistaking the birthday cake for a cushion on a table and sitting on it. Being accompanied home covered in cream.
3.Learning the hard way, on a crowded beach, that while wearing a bikini and holding a child on your hip, you have to be very careful putting child down, as child sliding down hip will also pull down bikini bottoms.
4.Walking home from the beach at 11pm on a busy Saturday evening, squelching, bedraggled and soaking wet after being thrown off the pier into the sea, hearing people muttering “look at her she's mad!”
5.Getting a lift on a motorbike driven by a short person, who pulling up outside a busy bar, misjudged where to put his foot, causing bike to fall sideways catapulting me into the bar. I landed in a heap in front of the cash register.
6.Going squid fishing with some local lads one evening. Drinking beer on the small rowing boat, then realising that I needed the loo, but I was out at sea on a small boat with Italian men, and there was no way I was 'going' overboard. Having to make them stop fishing to take me to nearest beach.
7.On the Scogliera, the rocky platform end of the beach, standing at the edge of the small cliff. Taking a step forward instead of backwards (duh) and teetering, arms windmilling madly for what seemed like an eternity before bellyflopping into the sea. A few months later in London, someone actually came up to me at a train station and asked me if I was the girl that fell off the Scogliera, it was the funniest thing he saw on his holiday.
8.Everything I did at a party on the beach in 2000. The drunkest I have ever been.(I do not normally try to give away my boyfriend as a gift, nor do I slip over in very dirty public loos with an equally drunk friend, laughing so much that we need help to get up. I don't normally cackle like a hyena and fall off metre high walls, laughing even more when landing on the rocks below. If I lose something I don't normally bulley everyone in the vicinity to look for it. I usually remember how I got home and what I did on the way, but it is a blank. I am fairly sure it was unglamourous though.)