“I am sorry,” Cristiano told her as he guided her out of the station. “I did not realize you would be scared. Perhaps the taxi would have been better.”

Keira shook her head. She didn’t want to be a nuisance. “I’m going to have to get used to the heights sooner or later,” she told him. “The whole town is on a mountain, after all!”

Now at the top of the cliffs, Cristiano showed Keira to a restaurant where they were to stop for lunch. It was a small, stony building set back into the cliff edge. Keira was still feeling a bit wobbly from the funicular as she took her seat and glanced at the menu. But any jitters she still felt vanished entirely when she saw the food on offer.

The waiter came over to take their orders.

“May I suggest we share the seasonal sharing platter?” Cristiano said over his menu at Keira.

She nodded, leaping at the opportunity to share food with him. It felt very informal, almost romantic.

The platter arrived, and Keira and Cristiano tucked in, sampling the local fall of produce mushrooms, black truffles, and chestnuts. It tasted divine.

Then Keira ordered spaghetti with fresh clams for her entree, and Cristiano the seafood special of tuna.

As they ate, Keira looked out over the town. She soon discovered that Capri was a town of impeccable taste. From the architecture—parts classical, parts Art Nouveau, and crammed with brightly colored villas with gardens filled with flowers—to the fashionable women who negotiated the cobblestone sidewalks in stiletto heels, looking utterly flawless as they did so, to the exquisite flavors of fresh seafood.

“Come,” Cristiano said once they had finished eating. “Let us see the town. We can get some gelato for dessert.”

He led her first to the authentic ceramic shops. Inside, Keira marveled at all the beautiful Italian pottery. Plates of beautiful yellows and vibrant blues, vases covered with intricate patterns of flowers. Keira loved every single item and wished she could purchase something to take home and brighten up the gray New York fall. But her bag was heavy enough and, sadly, she left the ceramic store empty-handed.

Back out in the sunny streets, Cristiano directed her toward the piazza. They passed beneath the clock tower, whose straight, blocky design cast a dark shadow across the tiles. Keira looked up at pretty clock face, painted in the same bold yellow and blue colors of the pottery she’d just seen. Instead of numbers, the clock had Roman numerals, something which delighted Keira. Its hands were made of twisted black metal and in a small alcove above the clock sat two very old-looking bells, both sporting large cracks. Running down the length of it were dark crimson flowers, a gorgeous color that made Keira think of weddings.

She walked alongside Cristiano, the sun soaking into her skin as they reached the colorful, medieval square of the Piazzetta. Here, it was a hive of activity, filled with tourists, paved with volcanic stone, surrounded on all sides by sienna walls and canopied with multicolored awnings from the outdoor cafes on each corner. Keira was stunned by the beauty of the little town.