Capri, a hedonistic dream

For a very long time, visiting Capri has been a dream of mine. The backstory is as follows: sometime in the mid-2000s almost everyone in Bosnia religiously followed one silly telenovela. Not even the dumbed-down plot, typical of that genre, could deter us from thirstily gulping down all the beautiful landscape that it showed. I am tempted to say that those years were challenging and with little to cheer people up in the Balkans, however, in all earnestness, such was the atmosphere even before, and so it is even now. So imagine, what a stark contrast to everyone's daily struggle would it be to immerse themselves into the blue endless seas, relaxed beautiful people, and into a life richer, easier, worthier of living, and endowed with divine natural beauty, and the spell of seemingly infinite summers. We picked up some Italian for the duration of the series, but even more importantly, we all adopted a lifelong adoration of a particular island in Italy where the show was taking place. It was, of course, Capri. We may not know more important places and cities in Italy, but Capri we all feel and know viscerally.

We all know what an illusion the magic of filming is, and how things are usually disappointing when we try to get closer to the trickery and experience our beloved movies in real life. For that matter, I would discourage anyone from visiting a Hollywood movie studio, because even the most famous ones are going to leave you depleted with how basic, minimal, and false they are. The spark of life is breathed into films far away from their actual settings, in the tiny sound and special effects rooms, I suppose. You cannot enter your favorite movie, a Chinese proverb should say. But in the case of Capri, oh yes you can, and it is even better in real life.

You take a super speedy boat from Sorrento and in a flash, you arrive at the small port. There is no looking back, it's already a transcending moment, a portal through which you step into a film in which you feel like a star for the time being. The small boats are lazily bobbing on the water, the mountains of fresh, brightly coloured fruits are inviting you to the port cafes, and you rub shoulders with the people who actually own and use Louis Vuitton luggage. The first impression is the absence of cars, there are the local shuttle buses, and there is the funicular, everything else is the silence and the unique nature. Hail Mary, I say, after the traffic of the Amalfi Coast. Then the ease of breathing, moving, and simply being sinks in. There is enough space in here, the island is rather big and wild, rocky and rugged, no amount of infrastructure or manmade effort could ever tame it. This place is renowned as a destination for the rich and famous visitors, but the actual living is surprisingly real. On your way from the port uphill to the center of the village, you pass by the modest, disheveled homes where old couples are tending their gardens, and you could swear that such authentic, normal faces you could see anywhere in the world. Capri is not only snobbery and posh jet setting, it is the actual home of the islanders.

Since the season of wisteria is in full swing in April, the purple rain is greeting you on every corner. The island is immaculately clean, and neat and the air is fresh, never stiflingly clammy. The high summer in Italy can be unbearably scorching, so I realized that the annoying fact that on an island you will always need a light coverup, must be quite a refreshing blessing in August here. Maritime pines, the absolute lords of the vegetation world on this part of the coast are even bigger and more regal on Capri. Our son calls them "broccoli trees".

Capri was named by Greeks and Romans after "capre", the goats that used to live there in abundance, but they are gone nowadays and the steep cliffs are normally filled with other kinds of climbers: swimmers and sunbathers who are resting under the iconic blue and white striped sun umbrellas. We walked to one of such beaches, from the Belvedere Tragara, down to the restaurant Luigi, and it was the most rewarding view over the Gulf of Naples.  Strangely enough, the main focus of the activity is not the marina, as one would expect. The reason for that is the historical circumstance: fierce pirate attacks forced the locals to abandon their fishing and flee to the higher, less accessible parts of the islands. So, the most iconic sights are up there, in Capri, or even more up there, in Anacapri, which is a more tranquil, more residential part of the island. It seems that history does repeat itself and that tourists are the modern-day pirates who banish the locals into the hights. We considered for a few moments whether or not to actually enter the humbly-looking church there, and luckily we decided to do it. Because inside, there was a monumental floor made with the maiolica tiles, depicting, in puzzle style, the biblical Garden of Eden. The awe and amazement had nothing to do with religious elation, but with the sheer appreciation of the artistry, craft, and detail-orientedness of the masters. The stars above the tree were what floored me.

Of luxury shops and 5-star Micheline restaurants, I can't say much, they are conspicuously present but irrelevant to the true experience of Capri. Capri is all in its natural beauty. An unmissable thing is surely one Gelateria where they make the cone on the spot, and you get the rare thrill of eating high-quality ice cream inside a warm, freshly made crispy waffle. If you find this frieze underneath, you will find the gelateria too. Now off you go on a treasure hunt!

To go back to the beginning, the celluloid dream of Capri turned out to be so much more vivid, special, and personal than any camera could capture. TV dreams are not cheap or pointless. There are real pockets of the world resembling the heavenly gardens, and we should always keep on dreaming and searching for them. Moments spent there invest our lives with meaning, hope, and with the unforgettable images forever living behind our eyelids.