After leaving my hometown during the summer to live on the Amalfi coast, I decided that I would try my best to visit the region from at least the middle of September. Like this, I could avoid the heat and the huge amount of tourists. Indeed, visiting alone a city that is unknown to me is a very delicate experience. But, after doing research on what the cultural specialties of the coast are, except the ones I already knew, I discovered something that makes me vibrate: paper. Inspired by the techniques of Arabs, people in Amalfi started to make handmade paper centuries ago. Now, they still do it with recycled cotton and are the last ones to do it in Europe.
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I am the type of person who spends hours in libraries, reading all the latest covers, touching all the books, and not being able to go out without buying one. Paper, for me, is precious; it can bring back special memories, like the smell of the daily newspaper that comes with fresh bread every morning at dawn in front of my grandparents’ house. It is as if it has superpowers; I read a lot and am able to be in a bubble thanks to writers and paper. With paper, I went to countries I’ve never been to and eras I’ve never lived.
So, I went on the bus app on my phone and booked a bus ticket to Amalfi. Patience was not a word in my vocabulary anymore. I decided to go in the morning and went to the museum of Amalfi’s paper, ‘Museo della Carta.’ Lucky me, I was the first one in the museum and maybe in the city! So, I did the tour alone with a really nice guide that actually comes from the same village as me. She showed me all the machines and taught me how to make paper.
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I went out of the museum, discovering the city from another angle, crowded with people from all around the world. I was amazed that I enjoyed it very much. Coming from a city where diversity is everywhere, I realized that I really missed seeing people from different cultural and language backgrounds.
My stomach was begging me to feed it, so I stopped at a gelato place. A little advice to recognize a quality gelato shop: the colors aren’t bright like in a comic, and the lids are closed to preserve the taste and the cold. I can say that after traveling in Italy with my parents, I became picky about gelato. So, I found this amazing small shop, ordered an espresso and a ricotta with pieces of fresh figs gelato, sat on the Duomo di Sant’Andrea’s steps, and enjoyed the view.
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I have to admit that I spent a good amount of money inside the paper shops for my relatives and myself. I now write with a quill, ink, and handmade paper. I obviously spent the rest of the day in the different paper shops where each has its own style, walked, had a good street food lunch with fried fresh fish, and went again for gelato, trying different flavors. Amalfi threw rain at us as if she told us that it was time to go back home, so I did with a grateful feeling and the hope to see her again soon.
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Written by Laura Clement