^UP^

A Week In Campania

Day 1 - Wednesday 16-Nov-2016

Don't you just love budget airlines? Don't you just love leaving home at four-thirty in the morning? Don't you love having to take off your shoes and belt in the airport because some idiot decided it would make the passengers feel safe?

No, me neither. But we put up with it to get to travel at modest cost. In this case, from Belfast to Naples for about £150 return, but having to catch two flights each journey (both EasyJet, but that's no real advantage). This meant arriving at Stansted Arrivals and passing again through useless airport security to enter Departures. Actually, I suspect that you might be able to get from one to the other in Stansted while still airside, but I'm not sure. Because EasyJet's luggage charges are ludicrous, we were getting by with cabin bags only.

Before boarding at Stansted, I'd noticed a scruffy man acting eccentrically in the bar. His glass was on the counter, and he'd bow to it, pirouette around and come back with a finger pointing cheekily. "How you doin'?" It didn't seem important.

But as we sat on the plane, this man turned out to be the last passenger to arrive. His allocated seat was next to the emergency exits and he was allegedly very drunk, so the cabin crew tried to get him to swap seats. Some sort of fracas ensued. I didn't see the details, because the entire Italian half of the passenger list was standing on seats and in the aisle to watch the incident. The man was taken off the plane to wait for the police, and the crew had to ask several times for the excited Italians to sit down. That really only happened once the wheels began to turn.

At Naples airport, it was a sunny afternoon. There's a bus to Sorrento, but it only departs every two hours, and we had to wait around for around one hour. We sat at an outside bar and I ordered a beer while Grace had a Spritz. The latter turned out to be very large, meaning that, unfortunately, I had to urge Grace to drink the last half quickly before we missed the bus. (I'm a bit anxious about that.) Still, it kept her quiet.

The one-hour journey turned into more than 90 minutes because of traffic, but we eventually rolled in to Sorrento's bus park at the station. The landlord very kindly picked us up in his comforable Mercedes, and drove us the short distance to the apartment in Sant'Agnello, taking a slight detour to show us the sea view at Marinella.

He showed us around the apartment, including the big roof terrace. Everything was very satisfactory.

After a brief rest and brush-up, we walked in to Sorrento centre, about twenty minutes. We walked along Corso Italia, the very long main street, in search of dinner. You know how it is: you see one; it looks OK; but you think "let's see what's a little further on". We actually got to the end of Corso Italia without committing, but I noticed La Fenice across the road on Via degli Aranci, and remembered it being in one of the guide books. It was great. We each had a pizza and some wine.

It wasn't very late, but we'd had a long day, so we walked home. Just before the last turning, we were accosted by the staff and patrons of the little pizzeria, Il Ruttin, and forced to drink limoncellos. The lads had a guitar (a very shit guitar) and I unwisely took it and played some blues. They were ecstatic. They even asked Grace to sing. But it was definitely bed time, so we went around the corner and climbed to our apartment.

Day 2 - Thursday 17-Nov-2016

I made a cup of coffee and carried it up to the roof terrace, wearing socks, but not shoes. To my surprise, given the warm, sunny morning, my socks were instantly soaked. Either it had rained in the night, or the dew was severe. We hadn't done any shopping for supplies, but had very kindly been given some basics, including the coffee. I also had a pack of "fun size" Mars bars. What's so much fun about food being smaller than usual? Anyway, coffee and one nano-Mars is about equivalent to my usual breakfast.

Not so for Grace. There was a supply of tea, and even long-life milk, but biscuits and confectionery just aren't adequate. We had to go shopping, but even better, buy breakfast first. We walked into central Sant'Agnello and found the venerable Pasticcieri Pina, trading ever since 1971, and got drinks and pastries. Then, just round the corner, the Netto supermarket supplied all our other needs, including the materials for a picnic.

Back at the apartment, I made the picnic. (Well, all right, it was a monster filled roll for each of us, plus olives and water.) Then we walked, following instructions from one of the guide books, through Sorrento and out to the end of the Sorrento penninsula, where you'll find the blue pool of the "Bagni della Regina Giovanna" and the foundations of the Roman "Villa di Pollio Felice".

The urban part of the walk, through Sorrento, is quite interesting. The final part, off road and down some ancient alleys and steps, is also interesting. The middle part, up Via Capo, is "interesting" in that it's on a major road and there is no footpath. There is at least a public viewing point, where you can get off the road and look down at Marina Grande. And eat your sandwiches.

Once arrived in the vicinity of the Queen's Baths, we followed the paths down until we came to a temporary barrier. The path ahead was washed out. Did it stop us? Of course not. We climbed over that barrier, and then another, and came to the Roman ruins on the headland. Nice place for a villa. The blue pool was far down below but access seemed tricky. We decided we'd gone far enough. Back over the anti-tourist barriers, I realised that the main path down to the pool was probably down another - unfenced - turning which I hadn't seen on the way in. Something to remember for next time, perhaps in the Summer, and we'd go swimming.

Safely back in Piazza Tasso in the centre of Sorrento, we each had a large goblet of Moretti Rosso and then walked back to Sant'Agnello and home. While resting and freshening up, I browsed the web to find out about the local restaurants, and saw rave reviews about the Moonlight, which was about fifty metres from our apartment.

We set off for Moonlight, sadly to find it closed for the off season. The last good review had only been a couple of weeks old, but there you go. We had unwisely not had a Plan B, so were reduced to wandering the streets of Sant'Agnello, but to our very good fortune came across a modest-looking place called "Peppino" (or more formally, "Il Ristorante da Peppino"). Actually, it was deceptive. A narrow front with a take-away counter led to a wide, lower-level dining room.

Grace had a very typical Neopolitan dish of fried, lightly-battered seafood, while I had a very typical Neopolitan dish of pizza. Both were very good. We wandered home for a digestif of the limoncello we'd bought that morning.

Day 3 - Friday 18-Nov-2016

The Circumvesuviana rail system is a narrow-gauge, light railway which runs around the volcano and as far down the penninsula as Sorrento. We walked the short distance to the second station, our local one of Sant'Agnello, and bought tickets. Just €3.60 for the one-hour journey to Naples, and any bus trips you need included. (Note: get some change - they don't like banknotes!)

The first half of the line is quite scenic, with plenty of views of the coast. At Seiano, the railway emerges from one tunnel, crosses the valley on a high bridge, and then disappears into a tunnel again. And the station platform is on the bridge, 120 metres above the valley floor! Not for the nervous (me).

But at Castellammare a sudden change occurs: you're in the industrial and suburban outskirts of Naples, with dirt, decay and squalor. Of course, you just zip past it on the train. We also zipped past a horrendous traffic jam on the SS145, probably ten kilometres of stationary traffic attempting to get out of Naples. I don't know what had caused it.

The penultimate station on our line was Piazza Garibaldi, the core focus of all urban transport in Naples. But I'd realised that the next one, and the actual end of the Circumvesuviana line at Porta Nolana gave better access to the old city. We walked past the busy market at Porta Nolana and along Via Nolana, instantly immersed in Neopolitan street life. I liked Naples at once. It's gritty. It's graffiti-scarred. But it's lively and has a worn elegance.

It was lunch time. We'd read that Piazza Bellini was where the hipsters hung out, so we headed for there, across the core of the oldest part of the city. In fact, in the Piazza itself you can see Greek ruins, and you don't get much more ancient than that in Naples.

After a long lunch break and a not-very-hipster lunch, we took to the streets again. I was looking for Capella Sansevero, built for the nutty Prince Raimondo di Sangro in 1753. We did get a little lost but a very friendly and multi-lingual passer-by put us on the right track and we found the chapel. The 'Veiled Christ' is the sculpture headliner, but there are a number of other statues, my favourite being the one commemorating Raimondo's mother. She'd died as a very young woman, which is how she's presented: young and beautiful, and wearing only a transparent veil, nipples perked. The title of the piece is "Modesty". I think Raimondo had some feelings to resolve there.

Wandering on, we came to the Galleria Umberto (an early shopping mall, much like the one in Milan dedicated to Vittorio Emanuele, Umberto's father). There was a cafe, and we took advantage to have a coffee and pastry. There was a busker, aged about seventy, whose schtick was to do Michael Jackson dance routines to the accompaniment of a ghetto blaster. He was rubbish.

By the time we'd had our coffee, it must have been after half-past four, and was already getting dark. Still, we took a look at the huge Piazza del Plebiscito, and the elegant porticoes clasping it. There were groups of army cadets everywhere, some with band instruments. They lined up and marched into formation in the square, and it seemed that the various units were being presented with colours. We watched for a while, but actually, it was pretty boring.

We considered walking back to the train station along the shoreline at the port, but it looked very busy with traffic and not very inviting. The alternative was to head for the university and the start of Corso Umberto, which leads directly to Piazza Garibaldi. We tried to get good photos of Castel Nuovo on the way, but it was really dark by then.

I did make a navigational mistake. I had an idea in my head that Piazza Nolana fronted onto Corso Umberto, but it doesn't. I had actually been thinking of Corso Garibaldi. This led to consequences later.

Arriving at Piazza Garibaldi, not Piazza Nolana, didn't seem to be a problem, however, since the second Circumvesuvia station is there anyway. We found it, bought tickets and looked for the correct platform. A train came in. We got on it. Wrong! It was an incoming train, stopping only at Porta Nolana.

Well, we could stay on the train until it reversed its path, return to Sorrento, couldn't we? No. The lights went out. We had to get out and find the correct platform again. And somehow, something very wrong happened at this point. We got on a train which we were convinced was going towards Sorrento, but it wasn't. Packed with commuters, it was the other line, to Baiano, but we didn't know that.

Through the station at Garibaldi, no anxieties were raised, but then the next one, Centro Direzionale wasn't one that either of us recognized from the morning (fortunately, it's decorated in very distinctive rainbow stripes). Eyes met in panic. As the train moved off again, I jumped out of my seat and consulted the schematic above the door. Wrong line. At the next stop we got off. It was a one-horse place called Poggioreale. After some confused discussion in pidgin Italian with the sole employee, he let us through the 'disabled' barrier and back onto the platform for Naples Garibaldi.

Back in the big station, we were very, very careful to make sure we got the right train. Definitely going back toward Sorrento. But we carefully identified each station until convinced we were on the right track, and relaxed.

It was after eight when we reached Sant'Agnello but we stayed on the couple of minutes and got off in central Sorrento instead. It had been a long day and it was dinner time! Just off Piazza Tasso, we chanced upon Ristorante Zi'Ntonio, where an entertainer was noodling away on guitar over backing tracks. It wasn't unpleasant, but we opted for a seat upstairs on the mezzanine, where it wouldn't be so intrusive. The waiter was clearly delighted when Grace ordered pasta with sea urchin, like a proper local.

It was still only about ten-thirty when we finished, so we decided to call in to Sorrento's "celtic" bar, the Horse Shoe. The owner, Luigi, thinks he is Scottish, but he's also very friendly to the Irish. It's a very lively place, and we encountered some Amercians doing some heavy drinking. It turned out that he were a diplomatic tour from the New York state government. Making friends and influencing people.

After more pints than intended, we set off for home. Next morning, I found two oranges in my jacket pocket.

Day 4 - Saturday 19-Nov-2016

After such an eventful and busy day yesterday, I wasn't fit for major expeditions. We set out at about noon and had lunch in Sorrento - eventually! The first promising place we found turned out to be run by a cockney Italian who had almost none of the items advertised on his menus outside. Due to the previous day's exertions, we wanted something very, very light, and none was available. We left apologetically, and found a little cafe called the Spinnaker, where our requirements were met. It was almost sunny, so we ate outside.

Fortunately, the Spinnaker was directly en route and only fifty metres from San Francesco and the Villa Comunale park. There are good panoramas out to sea from the park, and the cloisters of S. Francesco are one of Sorrento's gems. There was an art exhibition. Didn't like it.

But the additional feature is an elevator down to the shore at Marina Piccola. Costs one Euro, and well worth it. Now, for some reason, Sorrento's LARGE harbour is called Marina Piccola, while the small one is Marina Grande. We just accept it. From Marina Piccola, you can catch ferries and hydrofoils, but today, we were only exploring. In the off season, it's hard to imagine what the place would look like with shoulder-to-shoulder tourists. As it was, everything was low key. A couple of hounds exercised on the black sand.

Back up the elevator, and it's a turn to the right, and the walk down to Marina Grande. I liked Marina Grande a lot. Given Sorrento's touristy orientation, Marina Grande seemed agreeably seedy and authentic. There were real fishing boats drawn up on the beach, and real locals chattered in the tiny piazzas. Again, heaven knows what it's like in high season, but at this time of year, I could almost imagine myself moving in.

Coming back up to the centre of Sorrento, Grace insisted on a call in to Yogorino for a frozen yoghurt. Fortunately, they do actual gelato as well, so I had a mix of lemon and hazlenut. That's what I usually do: half a scoop of tart fruit and half of creamy something else.

It had been quite a relaxing day, to make up for the busyness of Naples the day before, but after a few hours chilling at home, we walked to central Sant'Agnello to try the wine bar known as Wine Bar for dinner. As usual, Grace had something fishy, while I had a leg of lamb. We'd noticed that the establishment seemed to have a large and amiable resident dog, and after our main course dishes were removed Grace reckoned that the animal had been given the bone from my lamb leg and was chewing it happily outside on the pavement.

Wine Bar has a large range of wines, of course, but also craft beers and unusual licquers. We passed on those and went home to an early bed.

Day 5 - Sunday 20-Nov-2016

What more can be said of the site at Pompeii? The hugeness of it. The bodies. A frozen moment.

We bought similar picnic materials from the supermarket as on our first day (Grace loves those baps) and took the train from Sant'Agnello. It's just a half-hour to Pompeii, and the station is almost opposite the entry gates. We made one mistake when buying tickets, and that was to miss out on the free booklet and map because they're shut away in the adjacent book shop. But, ever the careful planner, I'd brought along one I'd borrowed from the apartment, from someone's previous trip.

It was a beautiful sunny day, and there was a good number of visitors, but not enough to crowd. The only disadvantage of a Winter visit is that the day is short, and we had only a few hours to sample the sights. I think my favourite was the Villa of the Mysteries with its large, enigmatic frescoes.

The other thing that struck me though was the large number of take-aways. Poor Pompeians typically lived in one-room apartments, with no cooking facilities (or washing, or toilets, come to that) and had to depend on street food. The establishments have a counter facing the street with bowls embedded in it. What did they contain? Olives? Cooked seafood? Pizza? Most of the places have room for seating inside, where dining presumaly would have been a little more expensive, as in Italy today. One grand villa has a take-away embedded in the street-facing side (it was normal to build in commercial units to rent out if you were a landowner) and the owner's private dining room is directly adjacent to the public restaurant. I imagine that the same kitchens served both.

My namesake, Stephanus, operated a large laundry where workers (slaves?) would tread fabrics in large cisterns with various cleaning agents, including, allegedly, urine. The building is nicely decorated and has internal gardens and private accommodation for the owner, but I always knew that my antecedents would be from Trade, not Quality.

There's an official picnic area near Porta Nola, but it's "under restoration". We sat on a tomb instead. One of the things we'd purchased in the morning was a little foil packet which looked like the individual butter packs you get in cheap cafes. I hadn't inspected too closely, or tried to decypher the Italian; just assumed it was what it looked like. It wasn't. The content was an oddly-smelling, greasy substance, grayish in colour. "It's soap!" said Grace. I don't think it was, but I don't know what the substance was supposed to be. I should have kept the packaging and looked it up, but it was too disgusting.

After some more villa visits, including one with an oddly-shaped Venus painting in the garden, we ended up at the amphitheatre. By the time we'd stood in the centre and imagined gladiators and cheering crowds (acually there was a notorious crowd riot in 59 AD) and finally inspected the Pink Floyd exhibition in the crypta (a bit Spinal Tap, if we're honest), the sun was setting over Pompeii, and we made our way back to the train station.

We'd been eating out a lot, and decided on the train journey to cook a dinner at home. From Sant'Agnello station, we walked the short distance to our usual supermarket (which had been open in the morning) but it turned out to close early on a Sunday (not unexpected). Another supermarket round the corner was also closed, as was the small food shop at the bottom of our street. Still, we had spaghetti. olives and pesto, which made a plain but adequate meal. We also had wine and prosecco.

Day 6 - Monday 21-Nov-2016

The target for today was the Amalfi coast. We'd researched the bus times, so at the appropriate hour, we walked to Sorrento station. Or, rather, we didn't. Apart from our initial arrival when we were picked up by car, we hadn't seen the station, and I "forgot" exactly where it was. As we reached Piazza Tasso in the centre of Sorrento, I realized I didn't know where I was going, stopped and consulted the map. A hasty backtrack got us to the bus stop with two minutes to spare. A 24-hour ticket on SITA buses cost us just eight euros each.

The bus was full, mostly because there was a class of young people on it, and we didn't get seats together until the kids got off, at some sort of outdoor activities centre, it looked like. That left the bus about half full, almost all tourists.

The road is amazing. It twists and turns as it climbs over the mountainous central ridge of the Sorrento penninsula, and then clings to the cliffsides along the South coast. Almost everywhere, you can see vistas out over the sea, far below. And the road is about 1.3 buses wide. In most places, oncoming cars pass although there's little room to spare, but when you meet another bus, one or other has to back up, sometimes hundreds of metres to a place where they can pass.

About half-way to Positano, there was a driver change-over on our bus. I had been thinking that it must be an intense, stressful job to negotiate the narrow, winding roads with a bus, and here was the proof: driver relays. But then I noticed that the driver was casually steering the vehicle with one hand, in laid-back, Italian style. Ah, Italy.

There are two SITA bus stops in Positano. I had expected that we would find the first one the most convenient, because it was clear from the map that the second was a little way out past the town centre. In practice, when we came to it, I realised that the first stop gave you a long walk down to get to the lower town. We stayed on and waited for the second stop. I think this is now my recommended option.

The road from the bus stop led directly to the beach. We checked out the beach-front cafes and restaurants, and decdided on La Pergola, which, as well as its sit-down restarant, offered bar food and beers. This was ideal for us. After lunch, we walked down to the sea. The air temperature must have been the mid-twenties, but Grace had a paddle and declared the sea too cold for swimming in. (Not that everyone agreed with that.)

At the appointed time, we walked back to the bus stop and, with a gaggle of other tourists, caught the onward bus to Amalfi. The road sign at the bus stop said that Amalfi was just 14 km away, but the journey took about an hour. That's an indication of the difficulty of the terrain.

The bus stopped near the harbour, and we walked the short distance to the town centre, where the sun was lighting up the cathedral with golden rays. We walked up the main street - it's a very pretty town - and chanced upon some steep steps and passages that led us in a loop around the sides of the valley, with the dome of the cathedral and the rest of the town below. The sun was setting.

By the time we got back to the cathedral square, it was already twilight, but the town looked even more delightful in the warm glow of the lights. It would be nice to stay there for a night (plenty of restaurant choices for dinner, even in November) but we had to go for the bus back home. The route back was slightly different after Positano, because we went through Sant'Agata, which we hadn't seen on the way out, but eventually we left the bus at Sorrento station and went in search of dinner.

The Christmas lights were on (but not on the odd, cone-shaped "tree"). They probably had a ceremony or something on Sunday night when were were staying in. The illuminations are not really tasteful (for example, the Disney figures) but you can't be grumpy about it. Or indeed, bashful or dopey.

On the journey, Grace had mentioned an attractive-looking trattoria we'd noticed behind the cathedral, but when we got there we found that Monday was its day off. (Monday seems to be the commonest choice.) We had to search for somewhere else, and settled on Divino Sorrento, a little place with Pompeii frescos on its walls. The waiter seemed a little grumpy, but the meals were very good. As usual, Grace had seafood (spaghetti and clams) and I had land food.

Dessert was purchased on the hoof on the way home at a pasticceria on Corso Italia. Grace had been wanting to try the Neopolitan baba, soaked in rum, but I had a Sicilian-style cannolo.

Day 7 - Tuesday 22-Nov-2016

For our last day, we'd decided on Capri. Two different species of boat depart from Marina Piccola, of which the hydrofoil is by far the most frequent and takes only 20 minutes. We came down in the elevator, bought tickets and found the correct "platform". It was warm and sunny already, making a seat on deck almost compulsory.

On Capri, the boat lands at Marina Grande - they have the names the right way round, unlike Sorrento - and you have a choice of three modes of transport to get up to the main town: bus, feet or funicular. The funicular is quick and cheap, although it runs at fifteen-minute intervals. Once in Capri town, we explored a little, and bought sandwiches from a slightly sullen girl in a cafe/shop. She really wanted to sell us her freshly-cooked pasta, but we wanted a takeaway.

We sat on a bench and had our lunch and planned our campaign on Capri. I had a leaflet containing a number of suggested walks on the island, and we chose number three, ninety minutes, a loop around Monte Tuoro, calling at the Arco Naturale, a spectacular rock arch high above the sea.

We arrived at the arch to find it a building site, fully scaffolded in. Workers ambled on plank decks far above the waves. There was the sound of drilling and hammering. A placard on the view point explained that work was going on to try to stabilize the structure, with metal pins and epoxy. It seems quixotic, but I suppose they know what they're doing.

Onward from the arch there are many, many downward steps, until you come to the cave of Matermània. It has Roman structures inside, and would have been a nymphaeum, or grotto temple dedicated to the natural spirits. The name in Italian, derives from Magna Mater, based on the belief that this grotto was dedicated to the Great Mother. You could call it womb-like.

After this point, the path becomes flatter as it loops back towards Capri town. The cliff scenery is stunning, and a little frightening to the acrophobiac in me. As we began to return to civilization, well, suburban Capri, we decided that we deserved a beer, to hell with the expense, and had one on the famous Capri "piazzetta". We had a look around the main shopping area of town as well, but found that most of the luxury stores - Prada, D&G, Moschino, Hermès etc. - were all empty and closed for the Winter. Oh well.

We were careful not to miss the last boat back, which would be unfortunate, and were soon back in Sorrento. Chantecler's, the trattoria which had been closed the night before turned out to be as good as we'd hoped: cosy, characteristic and dealing in nothing but good food. (It's on Via Santa Maria della Pietà, as is Shot Bar, with its hypodermic alco-shots, and the badly named Meating steakhouse.)

Always one for fatal last suggestions, Grace took us into the Horse Shoe for "one pint". It wasn't busy but two other patrons greeted us in English. They had the house guitar (a very shit guitar) on their table, and since I hadn't had my own to play for a full week, I asked to borrow it. Well, it turned out that the other guests were from North Belfast, where I grew up, and were in the way of being pub singers, which I am definitely not. The gentleman took back the guitar, and they sang some songs, which we didn't know, but joined in anyway.

After a couple more drinks, I took back the guitar, and remembering having seen Albergo California in Positano, launched into The Eagles song of the same name. I can't sing it, but other voices filled in. We staggered home.

Day 8 - Wednesday 23-Nov-2016

The airport - Sorrento bus had taken an extra 30 minutes on our arrival, and on our day trip into Naples, the train had passed a huge traffic jam. Rather than risk missing our flight, I suggested getting the Circumvesuviana to Piazza Garibaldi in Naples, and then the airport bus the much shorter distance from there. Anyway, the Sorrento bus times weren't very convenient.

We took the train. I'd carefully researched where to find the airport bus at Piazza Garibaldi, but this turned out to be out-of-date information. The whole piazza is being dug up at the moment, and closed off by concrete barriers. After a futile look around, we went back into the station and asked at the information desk. We were directed the substitute bus park on the opposite side of the piazza and got on the airport bus. (The Sorrento bus costs €10 and we paid €3.60 for the train and €4 for the bus so we were financially better-off as well.) It took only 15 minutes.

We got airside and had lunch. EasyJet's high luggage charges mean that almost everyone has a packed cabin bag. At Belfast and Stansted, this resulted in frantic stuffing of overhead lockers, and passengers wandering up and down the aisle, looking for an extra space; but in Naples, an "efficient" employee decided that only the first sixty bags were going in the cabin, and the other hundred in the hold. I tried telling her that we had an onward EasyJet flight and didn't want to be delayed by baggagle handling, but no dice. In the end, it didn't matter, but the overhead lockers were about a quarter empty.

At Stansted, we retrieved our bags and went back through security stupidities for the fourth and final time. We had a couple of hours to wait, and took the opportunity to have a pub dinner. Grace had half a piri-piri chicken with salad, and I had a chilli chicken and cheese sandwich with chips. It seemed fine.

When we landed at Belfast, the temperature was minus three. The minibus from Cosmo parking picked us up and took us the two hundred metres to collect the car. It was coccooned in thick ice, both outside and inside the windows. Fortunately, I had a big can of de-icer. (The parking people had been preparing buckets of warm water for less well-prepared customers.) Eventually the windows were clear enough for the drive home.

At about four in the morning, I woke up feeling sick, and both ends of my body violently expelled their contents. (I did make it to the facilities in time.) I was very, very unwell for the next four days: easily the worst case of food poisoning I've ever had.Not a perfect end to a perfect holiday!