I began my day at Charles de Galle airport (the pronunciation, SHALL-du-gal, is so fun, I tried to say it as much as possible before leaving France) outside of Paris and made my way through crowds of people talking in languages I don’t speak. Again: SCA-REE. My ticket wasn’t coming up on the self check-in and I had cut it sort of close, so I started to get panicky and sweaty and generally verklempt. But I ended up getting pulled out of the baggage-check line and rushed right through to the front with enough time to marvel at the coffee shop in the terminal.

Starbucks, pshaw! This here is how you do coffee in transit.

And a magazine stand. Seriously, I may have to move.

I boarded my flight to Naples on Air France and I will say, unequivocally, it was the best flight of my entire life. There was plenty of leg room, I had a seat between me and a young guy from Bangkok. The flight attendants were so nice, I thought perhaps I was at Nordstrom. The coffee was delicious and I didn’t have to pay for my rather delicious meal of crepes and yogurt.  America really needs to settle down with her bad self and take some lessons in civility and how to make flying a pleasant experience.

Speaking of pleasant experience, I was met at the airport by a man named Mimi. And here is where I cried and and then kissed my driver.

Isn’t he darling? Oh, the stories he told us.

“Buon GIO-rno!” he said with that friendly smile. “Would you LIKE a cappuCHEE-no?!?”

Uh….

Which is when he set my bag next to the woman with whom I would be riding to Positano, took me to the non-Starbucks café across the hall, ordered and paid for my cappucino. Paid for it. Again: I cried.

And then he took us on a winding road, telling us the history of the land and stopping along the way saying, “UNO mo-MENT-oh! I have suPREESE por you!” He pulled the car over on a road barely wider than the car, and returned from a little shop five minutes later with a piece of wax paper filled with sliced salami. Oh, the kindness. I welled again.

And then we continued on our way, my new friend Claire and me groaning over the salami, licking every last bite from our greasy fingers, while Mimi took very, very good care of us. He pulled over and insisted on pictures.

He showed us a diorama built into the cliff side and I really have to hurry here, because I’m late for dinner. But I can’t stop, want to write every detail, this day has been that amazing. Sam, these are really for you, babe.

And then….is that another miniature town built into the cliffside?

My. God.

Je t’adore Paris.

But Postiano is lobbying for my heart.

More later!