Apricale

The plan worked. I made a right turn onto the main drag through town, following other cars leaving the market, and drove until a sign for Apricale, the next village over from my B&B, directed me up into the hills.

The climb was steep and quick, with countless 100+ degree switchbacks, but my Panda took it all in stride.

It was amazing how quickly my sense of my environment changed from coastal to alpine... even the air felt different. Soon, the vegetation changed into mountainous plants. Yet the sea still stretched out below, visible only at times.

The road had started narrow and became more and more so -- becoming one lane in spots. There were guard rails (of a sort) yet I knew I wasn't as confident in driving as the locals, so when one or two cars backed up behind me I would find a spot to inch over and slow to a stop... They would zoom around... and I would continue on in my old-lady speed.

It occurred to me as I was driving that the little towns were not laid out in a grid. (Duh huh, they're perched on the side of a mountain.) Instead the main road would lead though the town with houses build on each side, and then would switchback for the next stack of houses. Sometimes -- not often -- a little side street would slant off at a tight angle up or down a precipitous cut of pavement.

And always the tiny cars of the locals were parked on the non-existent shoulders or back up into their tiny driveways.