Page 6 of Bella Rosa
Luckily I put my laptop and notebook away before we arrived at the station. Now that the train has fully stopped, I stand to gather my things, and this time I secure my camera bag cross-body style so it’s easier to carry everything else.
After stepping off the train onto the platform, I catch myself taking a quick look around to see if I can spot a certain tall, dark, and dreamy man. But no such luck. I was hoping to get one last look just so I can move on with my life. Oh well.
I've got a short walk ahead of me to the bed and breakfast where I will be staying. But first, I've got to make it out of the train station. Hopefully that journey won't be as eventful as getting to my train at the station in Naples. I follow the rest of the passengers who know where they are going. We make it to the exit easily. This train station seems much easier to navigate than the one in Naples.
As soon as I exit the building I'm greeted with the most amazing smell of fresh baked bread. So naturally, I follow the smell into a small little bakery with no sign and only four tables out front. The small glass display holds only a few different options, so naturally I get one of each. I bet my bed and breakfast host would like a little treat.
After securing the food in my bag—that is definitely at capacity now—I pull up my map app and type in the address for the gorgeous bed and breakfast I found through an article about the Eden Valley's hidden gems.
I didn't see many articles about the food scene even though that is what the region is starting to be known for. Maybe someday soon someone else will be researching Eden Valley for their travels and they will find my article.
I manage to orientate myself on the street and start to follow the directions on the map. It should be a six minute walk. Not bad. I just wish my suitcase didn't get stuck on absolutely every other crack and crevice on the road. Authentic cobblestone roads are beautiful, but they are not the best walkway to pull a rolling suitcase on.
What should have been a six minute walk turns into a twenty minute walk. Of course I had to stop at every flower stand, artist booth, and bakery along the way. Not only to rest my poor arm from pulling my suitcase, but to admire all that the Eden Valley has to offer.
This city is so full of life. At this point, I'm pretty sure my pillow is permanently glued to my arm from my sweat due to the blistering heat. Though, all the locals are in long pants and seem to not even be breaking a sweat. I guess I've gotten too used to New York weather and being inside during midday.
I finally make it to the bed and breakfast. It has the most beautiful flowers growing on the front of the building. I've already spotted a coffee shop across the street that I will definitely be going to later. I make my way through the front door to the reception desk. This place seems to be deserted. I don't hear or see anyone.
There's a lot of natural light coming in through the glass door which allows me to really take a good look around. Dark wooden floors span the length of the modest entry way. I can just make out the stairs to the left. They are hidden away behind a partial wall that seems to separate the entry and the dining room.
There are old photographs along the light tan walls. A large wooden desk serves as a reception area. I let down the handle for my suitcase and then balance my pillow and camera bag on top of it. I'm so thankful for the relief of empty arms and to be out of the heat that I don't hear the footsteps of the little old lady until she is right behind me. The beautiful antique rug must have muffled her footsteps. I swear I jump ten feet in the air when I finally realize she is there. It is apparently very entertaining because she chuckles and resituates her glasses on her face.
"My you are a jumpy one, now aren't you?" She says through a friendly smile that immediately puts me at ease. She's around five feet tall with short brown hair that has a few white streaks in the front.
"You must be Rosalie. Welcome to the Eden Valley. I've got your room all ready for you. No smoking and no loud music past ten. I've got to get my beauty sleep, you know. Breakfast is at nine and dinner is at six. You don't have to attend either, but you're always welcome at my table. Now, let me show you to your room."
I like it here already. I gather my things and follow after her. "Thank you, Miss...?"
"Oh, sorry dear. You can call me Alda."
"Thank you, Alda. Do you think you could tell me about a few good restaurants around here? I'm here to write about all the different restaurants in the Eden Valley." I’m hopeful she will give me a list that will make my job a lot easier. The less time I have to spend researching, the more time I will have to actually try the new food and write.
She strokes the long gold pendant around her neck while we walk up the stairs. She doesn't answer right away.
We make it to the landing and continue walking down a long hallway of what seems to be all the guest rooms. The hallway is illuminated by a large window at the end where a small chair and side table sit, the open window causing the curtains to sway in the small space.
I am just beginning to wonder if she heard me when she finally answers. "I'll get my daughter to help you. She keeps up with all that stuff much more than I do. She owns the Polpo Café across the street. She serves some very nice lunches, pastries, and drinks." I can tell just how proud she is of her daughter. So much so that it brings a smile to my face.
"Oh thank you so much! That would be wonderful. Maybe I can go over in the morning to talk to her. When does she open?" I hope she can hear just how excited and thankful I am.
"She opens at eight. You can go then. She doesn't get her morning rush until around nine. Ah, here we are, dear. Please let me know if you need anything. Towels are under the sink." She opens the door to my home for the next three weeks. I shuffle into the picturesque room and take in the space.
"Can I ask you something?"
She shifts some keys around in her pocket. "Of course."
I turn so I'm facing her. "What's the story behind the Eden Valley? I did so much research before coming here, but I couldn't find the reason behind the nickname."
She walks over to a photograph on the wall of the countryside. "This area is situated in between two mountain ranges. A few hundred years ago three brothers left home and traveled south to the area we are in now. No one knows where they came from. They left in search of better opportunities and happiness. They fell in love with the lush green landscape and the rolling hills. Within the first year, all three were married and owned successful businesses. They contributed their success to this area of Italy. They said it was like living in the Garden of Eden, so when word traveled back home of their success the locals started referring to it as the Eden Valley."
I look out the window at the beautiful landscape. The view of the city with the rolling hills in the background is breathtaking. "I can see why the brothers were so impressed."
She pats me on the shoulder as she walks by. "Enjoy your stay."
Alda leaves, shutting the door behind her, and I begin exploring. It doesn't take long because the room isn't huge, but it does have a private bathroom. I really didn't know what to expect when I booked a bed and breakfast on this side of town. From what I could tell online, this area is mostly frequented by locals instead of tourists.
The room is painted a light blue color with the same dark wood flooring from downstairs. In the right corner of the room there is a twin bed with a white quilt. A small antique writing desk and chair are under the open window in the center of the wall directly ahead. With the same lightweight curtains to the hallway, the summer breeze coming in is causing them to sway. Hopefully the open window won’t let any bugs in.
