Hope you have your sea legs because today we are heading to Capri; for more than two thousand years an island of sybaritic pleasure, ever since Emperor Tiberius went in the huff with his fellow Romans and headed south where his holiday interests included vigorous sex and turfing those who got on his bad side off high cliffs. I have this on the very best authority, from Suetonius. Has anyone read his book, The Twelve Caesars? It's the National Enquirer for the Classical Era.
First stop was the JK Place whose pictures have been in every design blog and magazine for the last few years. We didn't stay here as we were Plebeian day trippers but went for drinks and mooched around. When we asked to see a room the manager, Simone Giorgi, who was utterly, utterly charming, immaculately dressed and sporting a pair of the most striking blue suede shoes, immediately whisked us to the most expensive room in the hotel. He was so lovely, I want to make him my new best friend.
You'll see it below. What a room. What a terrace. What a price.
This guest could not have been more picture perfect.
This portrait of Lady Ashley is now burning a hole in my locker of dark wants, does anyone know where I can find something similar?
I travelled in a red jumper, white jeans ( much like the woman above but much less chic) and packed two dresses, one white, one black, a raincoat, a white t shirt and a swimsuit and a cover up - perfect.
Look at that bed spread, it looks as if it has been botoxed. In fact they iron the linen once it is upon the bed; once again dedication to the cause, even Tiberius couldn't find fault here.
I had never been to Capri and I utterly, utterly, utterly loved it and have to go back. We gasped at the Villa Jovis...
my pics didn't do it justice
and tried to pick our hotel for a future visit which leads me to the next few photographs of the Hotel Minerva. "I'm torn between two lovers, treated like a fool."
There was something about the Minerva that just made me wish it was my home.
Look, more sea views for Selkie Tabs!
The spirit of Jackie lingers all over the island.
Mr Schettino, 93 years old and still going to work every day in his bijou magpie's nest of sandals where he has served everyone from Jackie to Valentino to me.
Jackie buying even more sandals at Canfora.
I know, who writes postcards anymore? Well I do, better that than face matriarchal ire, mum loves a postcard. I wish I could say it's great to be home but it was so cold yesterday I wore gloves.