(I apologize in advance for both the length and multiple 'voices' of this entry. It was written over the course of 2 days, based on notes and memories. I just had to get it all down and post it before I forgot my experiences. Other than that, enjoy! --k)
Written while on the train:
"July 29th--Mount Vesuvius grows ahead as my highspeed Frecciarossa 9523 train races at 287 kilometers per hour (about 175 mph) toward Naples. The sun strikes the side of the volcano, turning it gold and autumn yellow in the fading daylight. What a glorious welcome to Naples."
Outside the train station, one hour later….
Outside the train station, Amy, Eliza, Kelsey, Katie and I are welcomed by a guy whipping out his man parts and peeing on a palm tree. Delightful.
“Girls, don’t sit by that tree over there. Ever,” I say.
I text Danny Salti, to inform him of the warm welcome. He says to wait for the landscape and pizza to make up for the peeing incident.
The five of us maneuver toward the bus station, catching the R2 bus to our hostel. We survive the experience unscathed, and walk the few blocks to our hostel, dodging about 2,043 cars and almost getting hit by numerous Vespas in the process (Rick Steves says walk into traffic and act like you know where you are going. It is the scariest thing ever, but it works. They do eventually stop. Kind of.).
David was working the front desk at the hostel when we arrived. He is super nice, but has a very funky red rash all over his chest, that seems to get worse when he’s flustered. Having five talkative American girls is enough to make him look like he has a bad case of hives.
Since we’re starving, and because Naples invented pizza, we ask David to recommend a place for dinner. Castel Nuovo was a pizzeria around the corner, and the staff was so nice to us. We ordered three margherita pizzas, two flasks of white wine, and a heavenly dessert our waiter called “Chock-o-let Balls”. Delicious doesn’t even describe it.
When it was time to leave, our adorable waiter (who happened to be about 40, and missing a front tooth), ran to catch up with us so he could give us fidelity cards—15% off the next visit.
Day 2: July 30th 1:30 p.m.
Laying on a rock of the harbor, I take in the Caprisian sun. Boats and yachts pass by or drop anchor.
Speaking of dropping anchor, a little boy decided to drop pants and use the beach as his own toilette while I looked on in horror. His grandmother stood in front of him (as a body barrier, perhaps?) as he proceeded to go the #2 route. In public. Again may I mention on the beach. Public indecency? I’d say yes.
I had been laying on the pebbly beach, happy and content (and moderately disturbed) with my four girlfriends, but then a group of kids started playing football (a.k.a. soccer) and pelted us with rocks every time they kicked the ball. So rude. We therefore cut our losses and migrated to the boulders of the harbor, safely out of reach.
Day 2: Midnight, July 30th
I’ve determined Naples’ catchphrase/motto:
“Take it or leave it, bitches.”
Naples didn’t and doesn’t clean up for its date with tourism. It is a grimy, gritty seaport town with 2,500 years of history, filled with hardy, authentic Italians who don’t seem to care if you like them or their city.
So, it could be hard to like Naples. It is really you against the Vespas, the taxi driver, the man at the ticket office, the little old lady coming right at you expecting you to dive out of her way. But, mixed all together, the city has its appeal. I can’t really tell you what is appealing exactly, but it really is.
Bulleted notes of the Trip:
· Capri wasn’t too impressive, but definitely left an impression. Reasons: little boy and soccer fiends.
· The cable car to Capri Town was very cool/beautiful. The view at the top made the €1.10 price worth it.
· The clothes were divine and completely too expensive. Made me want to find a sugar daddy.
Day 3: July 31st
Eliza and I split from the group to check out Pompeii. We had to wait an hour for the bus to arrive (a typical Italian problem best solved with a little patience and ‘It is what it is’ attitude). While we waited, we met a German couple from Nuremburg and an older French couple from Paris. It was so cool to watch two people from different countries communicating in a second language with each other. It made me realize just how behind on foreign language education America really is.
While on the bus, Eliza and I started discussing Carlo Zei, our film professor. We loved how he has a tendency to say, "Va bene," after we complete discussion or move on to the next point. For some reason, we both started using the phrase for the rest of the day, making us dissolve into a fit of giggles, or smile knowingly at each other (FYI: It has stuck around permanently ever since).
The ruins of Pompeii were incredible. The streets and sidewalks were paved, and exterior paint and lettering had managed to be preserved over the centuries. Seeing the plaster casts of the Pompeian bodies was humbling; these people woke up one morning and had no idea that the remains of their ordinary lives would become a tourist destination.
Eliza and I made a few wrong turns in the park, and ended up exiting on the far North side, instead of the south. It turned out to be to our benefit, since we ran into the train station we needed to reach. We bought our 1.70 € tickets to Sorrento and went into the coffee bar to grab a beverage. I ordered my now-common espresso, and Eliza had a beautiful cappuccino. We felt so Italian drinking our coffee at the marble bar, watching the barista mix up orders for other patrons.
It was initially our plan to go to Positano soon after arriving to Sorrento. There is no train line to get there, so it is either a bus or ferry. Rick Steves said the view of Positano was worth the 7€ ferry, so we started walking downhill toward the water. When we reached Marina Piccola, we found out there would be no ferries to Positano that day (it was a Saturday, which had us both surprised). Somewhat disappointed, but willing to make the best of it, Eliza and I opted to splurge on lunch, choosing a little restaurant with seating right along the water’s edge. We languished for an hour and a half on a lunch of calamari, shrimp (with heads attached, mind you. Means they are fresh, according to Danny Salti), mixed salad, French fries (cravings must be obeyed), margherita pizza and a half liter of wine between the two of us lifted our spirits. Absolutely wonderful.
We then hiked up about 100 stairs (burn off a bit of lunch’s damage) to reach some of the best gelato and diverse shopping ever. The gelato was from Primavera (mentioned in the Rick Steves’ guidebook, of course!), and we both went with the “limone di Sorrento”—when in the Land of Lemons, eat the lemons.
A jewelry store packed to the ceiling with red coral, cameos, and earrings drew our attention. When Eliza showed interest in a pair of earrings, the owner (a little lady with a hug mole on her chin) finessed Eliza’s earring off and shoved the purchasable turquoise studs into her ear.
“Even if you do not buy them, it makes me happy to have you try them on,” she said in a raspy, chain-smoker-for-thirty-years voice.
As five o’clock approached, Eliza and I went to the public lemon grove. It is tended by a family with a very green thumb, and a little shop in the grove sells limoncello and the organic lemons grown there. We sat down to rest our tired feet, and as we relaxed, we saw a woman come into the grove walking her white rabbit. Yep, it had a leash and everything. I’d never seen anything like it, and I have to say, the little thing was awfully adorable.
Spotting the shop in the distance, we meandered toward it. The woman working the stall greeted us eagerly, and started offering us samples of the products for sale. Eliza and I tried the limoncello. It was insanely strong; both lemony and sappy sweet at the same time. Eliza, who has a soft spot in her heart for all things lemon (Sorrento=perfect place for her), opted to purchase the 5 lemons for 2€. The woman liked us so much, she threw in an extra lemon (attached to a branch, no less).
I haven’t mentioned the views yet, for fear of sounding cliché, but it is just necessary. The views of the Bay of Naples were simply stunning; enough to make me want to come back and spend time lounging by the water. Cinque Terre has a completely different relationship with the water than Sorrento. Though both areas hug sheer cliffs, Sorrento was built in a way that maximized the view horizontally. Cinque Terre is more vertical. I think the pictures below help explain what I am trying to say.
This is Sorrento....
This is Riomaggiore.
Heading back to Naples, we were both completely content and pleased with our day, which was such a good feeling. We had managed to catch a bus, find Pompeii, ride a train, change our Positano plans, navigate Sorrento, and make our way back to Naples without any negative experiences.
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