Following a tip from a Lonely Planet guidebook, we decided to attempt to hike "Il Sentiero degli Dei", or "The Path of the Gods." Billed by the book as the most beautiful walk in Italy, the hike was said to be a 5 and a half hour hike through well marked terrain. Not exactly.
After one and a half hours of climbing nothing but stairs, our fried legs finally reached the village of Nocello, a town of a few hundred people and a popular destination for Bed and Breakfasters. Still unable to find the actual path, I stopped several times to ask for directions. Though I understood their Italian, nobody seemed to have an exact of idea of where this path actually was. Finally, we reached a trail. Though it wasn't marked the "Path of the Gods," at least it was a trail. And I can't imagine the views being better elsewhere.
After roughly 6 hours of hiking, we simply didn't know where we were. A Boy Scout once said "Be Prepared." Smart fella. We weren't. Without a map of the region, a compass, or a pocket knife, we were getting lost. And with a diminishing food supplies (approximately 2 special K bars and a kinderbueno), we were racing to catch the bus home- racing for a comfortable bed in our hostel- and racing- to not get eaten by goats?!??
That's right. Killer goats, on the trail path. Just when things were looking up, the sound of bells filled the air. From all directions, we were surrounded by a pack of horned black goats, viciously eating all the plant life around them. Clearly, we were not a welcome guest at their dinner party. Protecting the goats were two wolf-dogs- who really didn't like our presence. After debating for several minutes the right course of action, the dog and the goats ran away. But first, I took some epic pictures:
After following a trail that grew smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until it disintegrated in to nothingness, confusion ensued. With the town of Amalfi just a mile ahead of us, and the town of Praiano 700 meters below us (at the bottom of a cliff), we were faced with a difficult decision. The walk to Amalfi, up and down the mountains, would likely have been another five hours. But the journey to Praiano was far from a sure course of action. Afterall, the trail had disappeared several hundred paces back. It's difficult to descend a cliff without a trail or climbing gear. By some great stroke of luck, I stumbled upon a well-hidden stone stair case, that I started to hike my way down. At the bottom of the stair case was a vineyard- which led, conveniently to another staircase. Here's a picture of what we were up against:
Following the vines and branches, we made our way under fences, down steps, through acres of what was surely private property. Finally, nearing the town we were aiming for, I came across a farmer. Exasperated, I asked him "Dove sono?" (where am I?) Hesitating, he replied Priano, triggering a Tiger Woods esque fist pump. We had somehow made it. Though we never found the Path of the Gods, the path we followed had led us on a long, winding adventure and taken us, somehow, to our final destination.
That night, we returned to Sorrento for more pizza. Back at the hostel, a disco band was playing in the bar. With hundreds of young Italians, we enjoyed the music of groups like Sly and the Family Stone, Wild Cherry, even Lionel Richie. And if you haven't done the YMCA with hundreds of Italians (who don't even have the letter Y in their alphabet), you've never experienced the true international glory of The Village People.
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