Beaning on the Coast

The Almafi Coast- I only knew it as that place where Matt Damon killed Jude Law with an oar, however that was my destination for the first leg of my Spring Break. Thirteen people, including myself, rented out a villa just outside of Positano for the first weekend in April. To say it surpassed my expectations is an understatement. The Villa sat alone on a treacherous road, perched along the jagged decline of the coast, peering out upon the chilly Mediterranean. Its permanent residents were a never-ending family of Italian simpletons. The woman of the house was at least eighty years young and was still doing daily farming and household chores. She spoke no English but loved to smile and tug on your ear, it was fantastically stereotypical. The villa had a chicken coop, lemon trees, and a herd of sheep, led by the aptly named Clementine. Our openly rambunctious crew brought nothing but positive vibes, and that made all the difference. It was four days of lounging, drinking, leisure-diving, and soaking in the 360 degrees of nature that sensationally overwhelmed one’s senses. Behind us, the evergreen drenched mountains climbed into the clouds, disappearing into what we called “King Kong Land”. The face of the coast was littered with vegetation reaching off the rocky façade, extending their limbs to the warm Mediterranean sun. In the distance a small island rested alone, garnering the name “Shutter Island.” It was a weekend that no one wanted to end, however, with another day we would have assuredly run out of food and momentum. Nonetheless, I was willing to proclaim it as one of the enjoyable memories of my life only minutes after watching it disappear behind the first bend of the coast.