Naples: the real Italy

by Howe Sim, published in Real Travel Magazine, Sep 2008

Shadowed by Mount Vesuvius, the city of Naples and long-destroyed Pompeii offered Howe Sim and his wife a true taste of Italy – past and present.

Two and a half hours after leaving Rome, our high-speed train glided to a screeching halt in the main rail terminal in downtown Naples. At first, it seemed as though we had arrived in another typically bustling European city. It dawned on me that this was not the case when the manager of the car rental desk warned us that drivers generally don’t obey stoplights or follow the rules of the road. My wife and I decided to heed this advice and headed out to the taxi line.

Unlike in northern Italian cities, cab drivers here require you to negotiate the fare up front, claiming that the meter is broken. Being first-time visitors to the city, we were at their mercy; only later did we discover that we had been charged triple the going rate for a ride into the historic centre of town.

The brief but hair-raising drive to our hotel confirmed our initial suspicions. After hopping the curb and driving on the sidewalk for a block, our driver Renato deftly veered his car into oncoming lanes of traffic in order to beat a red stoplight. Halting only long enough to exchange several angry blasts of the horn with oncoming cars, he accelerated to 100 km/h in the 50 km/h posted zone. When we reached our hotel, Renato helped us with our bags and then proudly boasted: “If you can drive in Naples, you can drive anywhere!”

We checked into our miniscule yet cozy second floor room and then decided to head out for a quick bite before calling it a night. The concierge recommended a family-run trattoria a few blocks from the hotel. Despite the plain décor, plastic tablecloths and paper napkins, the meal was truly one of the most delectable and authentic we had during our month in Italy.

In addition to offering genuine home style cooking, trattorias provide locally produced wines served from the barrel. In typical Neapolitan fashion, we started off with antipasti of ham and figs, followed this with a primo (first course) of spaghetti with clams and finished with a secondi of fried mozzarella with rice croquettes and artichokes. We were then offered homemade gelato, but as dusk was fast approaching (and we’d been forewarned not to wander on the streets after dark), we declined and instead waddled back to our hotel, my belt a couple notches looser.

The next morning, in spite of our hotel-supplied earplugs, I awoke to the putt-putt-putt of mopeds racing down side streets. I flung opened the double-shuttered windows to find a tangled yet enthralling mess of neighbourhood characters: women spreading the latest gossip while hanging their wet laundry, ubiquitous street peddlers selling pails of cigarettes and bottles of water, teens whizzing by on mopeds loaded with three or four younger siblings, and scrawny mutts begging for food at every doorway. Camera in hand, I spent the next hour secretly recording the subtle nuances of this Neapolitan reality show from our second floor balcony.

My trance-like state was rudely interrupted by a phone call from the lobby, notifying us that our tour guide had arrived. Reluctantly, I climbed back into our room and acknowledged that visiting the ruins of Pompeii was the main reason we had come to Naples. On exiting the hotel lobby, we spotted our guide standing beside a mini-van, umbrella in hand. After a double-cheek kiss (for both of us), Giuseppe helped us into the van and nodded to the driver to head off to the famous ruins.

POMPEII PRESERVED

En route to Pompeii (a mere 24km from Naples), we learned that its burial by Mount Vesuvius under several meters of cinders and ash in AD79 had conserved much of the ancient seaside resort. Not only were the town’s streets and buildings surprisingly well preserved, so too were many of its 25,000 residents and their art, tools and other personal belongings. However, it was not until the late sixteenth century that this enormous time capsule was accidently rediscovered by workers preparing to build a summer palace for the King of Naples.

Giuseppe then lamented that much of Pompeii had been lost or destroyed since its rediscovery, the result of both natural forces (such as weathering and water damage) and man-made forces (primitive excavation techniques, vandalism, and theft). Only in recent years have efforts been made by government officials to halt its ongoing decay, such as allowing public access to only a fraction of its buildings and relocating many of the fragile relics and plaster casts to museums or under covered structures.

As our van pulled off the highway and onto the off-ramp for Pompeii, we realized that we should in fact have arrived earlier. A seemingly endless caravan of tour buses (most of which, we were told, were transporting day trippers from Rome) brought the traffic to a grinding halt. After what seemed like an eternity, our van finally reached the ticket office.

Admission was 10€ per person, with a three-day pass for 18€ also available (allowing extra access to nearby ruins at Herculaneum, Oplontis, and Stabia). The ruins open daily at 8:30 AM and close at 5:00 PM (extended to 6:00 PM between April and October).

If you’re visiting on a sunny day, you’d be wise to bring a couple bottles of water or purchase them at the café before entering the ruins, as there are no refreshments available inside. A bookstore/gift shop is also located near the ticket office. Here you can buy a detailed guidebook to the ruins (complete with color photos and available in several languages) that will help you understand what you’re seeing. If you show up without a pre-arranged tour guide, don’t worry, as there are always assorted guides (often university students) available at the entrance eager to offer their services for a fee.

We spent several hours wandering the grounds like kids in a candy store; most visitors need at least four hours for a cursory tour, with some spending several days exploring the vast grounds. For us, one of must-see sites was the rectangular-shaped Forum in the center of town. Once the heart of religious, commercial and political life, this area was the oldest part of Pompeii and built on the highest ground. From here, you’ll get a nice view of Mount Vesuvius in the distance. To the south is the Basilica, the town’s largest structure and former law court. A close-up inspection of the walls of this public building reveals what is believed to be the ancient predecessor of modern-day graffiti. Equally impressive was the open-air Grand Theater (Teatro Grande), originally constructed in the fifth century B.C. to seat 5,000 spectators for events such as gladiator battles.

Some of the ancient town’s best-preserved frescoes can be seen in the Lupanare (the most centrally located of Pompeii’s 25 brothels) and in the Stabian Baths, one of several public bathhouses in town. Both are adorned with elaborate mosaics, including several depicting sexually explicit acts.

Finally, for an unparalleled view of ancient domestic architecture, don’t miss the House of Vettii, one of the town’s most carefully restored villas. This private residence boasts a courtyard, living room, garden, dining room, atrium, and interior walls adorned with friezes featuring mythological themes.

Unsurprisingly, the archeological ruins of Pompeii are one of Italy’s top tourist attractions, with this UNESCO World Heritage site attracting some 2.5 million visitors a year. For those who still yearn for more of ancient Rome, visits to the underground cities and mythic ruins of the nearby Phlaegrean Fields and to the majestic Greek temples at Paestum should help quench their thirst. And if time allows, try to squeeze in a quick visit to the National Archeological Museum in Naples, where many of the fascinating finds from Pompeii and other digs around Vesuvius have been permanently housed.

Exhausted from our long Pompeii adventure, we decided to forego a formal restaurant meal and instead snack on sfogliatelle (shell-shaped puff pastries) and zeppole (deep-fried custard-filled doughnuts) we had picked up at a popular local bakery on the drive back to town. We washed these down with a glass or two of limoncello, a regionally produced, slightly tangy lemon liqueur. As the saying goes, when in Rome, do as the Romans do!

THUNDER AND VESUVIUS

That night, we slept like babies. The following morning we found ourselves in the midst of a passing thunderstorm, with golf ball-sized hail crashing down on to the metal awnings of our hotel. This was quickly replaced by near-torrential rainfall. After polishing off the rest of our previous night’s pastries, we hesitantly boarded the mini-van which had chauffeured us around the day before. Convinced we’d be drenched because of heavy rainfall, we tentatively began our ascent up Mount Vesuvius.

Sure enough, it began hailing again as we neared the top of continental Europe’s only active volcano. This downpour, combined with an increasingly narrow road (which in parts was wide enough for only one vehicle), made for another white-knuckle ride to our destination. In another show of typical Neapolitan habit, our driver nonchalantly passed the slower buses ahead of us, even around blind corners, announcing his presence with a toot of his horn.

Along the way, we spotted several vineyards made famous by the amber-colored wine – known as Lacrimae Christi or Tears of Christ – produced from grapes grown on the mountain’s fertile alkali- and phosphorous-rich volcanic soils. After stopping to pick up a few bottles for that evening’s dinner, we continued our climb up the mountain road. We soon reached the jam-packed parking lot, at which point we happily realised that we had ascended above cloud level so that it was no longer raining.

The remaining 200-metre ascent to the summit would have to be completed on foot. The walk to the crater is open daily from 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM. Visitors are charged 6€ per person, and must be accompanied by a guide. Ours was a bubbly Sicilian native who spoke English, French, Japanese, and German flawlessly. This was her fifth climb up that day, so we took things slowly for her benefit.

During our walk, Maria told us that Vesuvius’ last spectacular eruption took place in 1944, but that experts predict it could erupt again at any time. It is considered one of the world’s most dangerous volcanoes, mostly because of the potential impact on the 3 million inhabitants who live in its shadow.

On the climb up, we passed by the remains of the funicular, an inclined cable-car that took tourists from the base of Vesuvius to 1,200 metres above sea level, until it was decommissioned in 1944 because of several accidents.

After an hour, we reached the summit, where we walked around the rim of the impressive 200-meter-deep, 600-meter-diameter, sulfur-spewing crater. As we gazed down into its smoldering core, Maria reminded us that it was here that Spartacus and fellow gladiators had hidden from Roman Legions a century before Pompeii was buried under ash and volcanic mud. The panoramic views of the Bay of Naples and surrounding countryside from the mountain summit were truly breathtaking, and well worth the climb.

We parted company with our guide Maria (after giving her a generous tip), and she headed back down to the parking lot to meet up with yet another group of wide-eyed tourists.

This was our last stop before taking the train back to Rome and returning to Toronto, so we took a moment to enjoy the crisp, refreshing mountain air and the dramatic terrain. While sipping Lacrimae Christi, we reflected on the lasting and profound impact the mighty volcano has had on the lives of Neapolitans, past, present and future.

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