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Isle of Capri

The sun-drenched Isle of Capri juts out of the Mediterranean like a golden statue, gracefully peering out onto the Bay of Napoli and the Italian mainland. The breathtaking views of tiny homes dotting the almost impossibly steep mountainsides are enough to bring one to a higher state of awareness of oneself. Indeed, rapt by the smells of southern Italian cooking and the feel of cool ocean breezes on my face, I became intensely aware of my own mind and body, and particularly of the small patch of skin below my left ear, which became firmly snagged in the gearworks of one of the island's seven cable lifts. This obscure part of my body had never been at the forefront of my consciousness until I found myself dangling three hundred feet above the resort village of Aga, a favorite hideaway for the reclusive rich. Fortunately, the lush green hillside slope took away some of the force of the fall after my tenuous support gave way with much ripping, and I rolled cleanly into the boat of a charming group of local fishermen who had been lunching in the harbor a kilometer or so away.

So I was taken quickly and graciously to the emergency medical center in Naples in the cool comfort of the trawler's icebox, where the cold and moisture from the day's catch of squid, octopus and sea urchin made a very effective cold compress for the eight-inch patch of skin and hair that had ripped off the back of my neck. So if you ever find yourelf munching calamari salad in this true island paradise, spare a tip of the wine glass for the fellows at Fabio Almante's fishery!

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