#Iclosemyeyes…e siamo tornati a Capri. All I need is the rhythm divine.
And now that we’ve been, I know to skip il taxi and take us up on il funiculare to Piazza Umberto I. It’s almost Aperol o’clock, and if we’re on time, then we’ll be right on time to enjoy an afternoon welcome from Santo Stefano. For whom toll the bells? Per noi. Per me.
We can manage. The Hotel della Piccola Marina is just down the way, on Via Mulo. Why re-invent that wheel, when the breakfast cakes were so good, and they did such a caring, good job of ensuring we had a fun time our first time on the lemon-scented island, making sure we enjoyed the panorama first and foremost and found anything we could need or want to discover in and around Capri the few next days. Anyway, we’ll take our passeggiata over later. (Those cakes!)
But first, Imma enjoy this view.
King of Cups became a spiritual imperative in Capri.
I jumped nel blu, and I felt heavy in those waters. I felt the senseless burden of shame and sin, the emotional baggage of the many miles I had traveled, and the pain of a life lived. I felt rejected by a sea that ultimately cleansed me good. Unless the sea thought I was fat, in which case, what a bitch. Either way, as a water sign, I took that feeling to heart, and as soon as I got back to the hotel, I got myself a recommend for a barbiere; I needed a good buzz.
A sea-change had been augured.