Wishing I knew more about architecture so I can bring its stories home – telling you I counted Ionic orders, Doric columns, pretended to hold up porticos in pictures and tumbled down a crepidoma (which I am standing on in this picture) into a ramshackle hypocaust, keystones, Byzantine arches, Gothic ornaments, waxing lyrical like a 8th century builder. It would be very good to understand, or would my head explode in rapture? Most of the time I am collecting memories of grandeur I fail to appropriate into mere words. I want you to see all that I have seen.

Along the Amalfi coast, en route Amalfi town from Positano. The blue SITA bus will shuttle you along the drive (7.2€ buys a 24hr pass), holding you captive to beauty and exhilaration because this journey is a mere foot away from a sheer plunge into the rocks and ocean. I ignored my screaming mind and leaned across Sheena to film.

See, the road is a lover of the mountains, hugging them with sinuous lines and meanders. Each concave turn reveals resorts hidden in unique rocky coves, nestled within the folds of the valley. As it curves out, the expanse of the Mediterranean is startling and wonderful to behold, waves hurtling themselves against the cliffs, crests flecked with froth. The sea is so deeply azure it feels viscous, like it’s got density and strength. If i were to hold it, it would stain my fingers blue. It is liquid sapphire.

Where I always feel belittled before nature’s magnificence, here I felt a delirious sense of possibility. The world is so pulsating and tremulous with beauty and I cannot wait to take in more. I have never seen anything like this.

Outside looking in.
Polignano A Mare, Italy, June 2011