Gelateria

Gelateria, Via Padre Reginaldo Giuliani, Sorrento

The bus ride to our hotel had been hosted by a young lady for whom English was not her first language. Between telling us that we were travelling through the land of eternal love and romance, that here she fully expected to find the man of her dreams, and that Chico the driver was a gladiator or approaching some such kind of specimen, perhaps uppermost in her duties was to ensure each and everyone one of us was aware that on Saturday morning we were cordially invited/expected to attend a 'What's On' meeting. I should have known that was code words for something approaching a sales talk. It was.

First to a restaurant of palms and cacti with large propeller fans suspended from ceiling beams. After a complimentary glass of wine or water, followed by patter concerning the excursions available, the floor was handed over to the owner's daughter. In an American accent, she revealed the restaurant's humble origins, it's expansion and feasting prowess now deserving of its high class status, and how, since we were all cherished, we would be welcome to dine whether at lunch or of an evening at a discounted rate upon production of the VIP card she was to hand to us. At the end, everyone clapped.

Next to a producer and purveyor of limoncello, where, in an indoor garden of lemon trees with sunlight pouring through a lofty skylight, two white, disposable plastic beakers, one containing perhaps a mouthful of the stuff and the other, its weaker creamy variant, were distributed to we tourists. We learned from another owner's daughter about the aperitif's traditions and popularity, it's powers and romantic charms, and then we learned about its price, discounts available on multi-buys, the tax advantages if a purchase was made from the particular establishment, and the worry-free, luxurious, bubble wrap packaging. This daughter also received a round of applause.

Exiting the indoor garden we were assured that no visit to southern Italy would be complete without partaking of the delights of David, the pre-eminent gelatiera in all of southern Italy. And so we were lead through the streets to where we could all block his shop with a zig-zagging queue to buy an ice cream.