Naples - even better than I remembered it

I visited Naples in 1979 when I was working as an actress; we had a 6 month contract with the US military, and were here performing for the Navy personnel stationed on the USS Nimitz (a nuclear aircraft carrier). It was my first real cultural experience, and I remember it being exotic and strange. And a little overwhelming. Everything is so old here, and frantic and dirty. At that time we stayed in a typical old city apartment, with a "Juliet" balcony that overlooked a busy, dirty cobbled street with lines of laundry strung across the street. Nothing has changed. It still looks the same and we are staying in a very similar apartment. The only difference is that back then, I had an armed guard with a loaded machine gun posted at my bedroom door (seriously). The apartment we are in this time is on the fourth floor. We have four keys (of the long old fashioned type): one that opens the door from the street into the inner courtyard (where the inhabitants park their scooters); one for the door at the top of the four flights of very old, worn stone steps; one into the apartment; and one into our bedroom (up yet another flight of stairs). We are staying at an "Airbnb" room (a new online phenomenon where people list their rooms for rent, and travellers like me - who prefer intercultural exchange to lonely hotel rooms - book a room, for usually much less than a hotel).

When we arrived last night, we dropped our bags and went straight out into the street to look for food. The streets here are about 10 feet wide and run between rows of six story buildings - most of which are tens of centuries old. Every few feet there is a door - of varying shapes and sizes and ages. I LOVE the doors here! In Paris I could not stop taking pictures of light posts, and in Africa it was the trees. In India - jumbles of electrical wires....but here - its the doors!

All the doors were closed and with the exception of a few small restaurants with tables and chairs on the street. We stopped at the closest one and ordered some spaghetti and a cheap bottle of Chardonnay. The pasta was actually very good - full of spicy olives and the largest caper berries I have ever seen. The weather here is warm, and at 11pm was still comfortable - even for me - with no sweater.

Today when we headed out the street had been transformed. Every spot where there was a door was now a shop selling various sundries from socks, to lemons, to trinkets, to shit from China! And there were people EVERYWHERE - and noisy scooters buzzing in amongst them. No cars, for the streets are too skinny.We walked for an hour and eventually found the meeting spot for a tour of the underground caverns. Larger than the city of Naples, this network of caverns and tunnels was built initially in the first century by the Greeks. They would dig a well, and hollow out a cavern - using the rock blocks they dug out - for building their houses. Later, the Romans, in the fourth century, connected all the caverns with a series of tunnels, and directed the local river into it, and created aqueducts, cisterns, and a rather elaborate water system for the city. In the 1800's there was a cholera outbreak and the water was contaminated, so they shut down the cisterns. For 60 years thereafter, it was used as a garbage dump! Then, during World War II, the piles and miles of garbage were covered with concrete and used as bunkers during the bombing.

After the tour we wondered around looking for the 2500 year old statues of goats we had been told about...unfortunately we did not find them, and by then, I had climbed hundreds of stairs, walked dozens of kilometers on cobblestone hilly streets, and my hips were ablaze with pain! So we headed home for a rest, then went out to dinner at Pizzeria da Michele - the home of the very first Pizza (or so they say). In 16th century Naples a flatbread was referred to as a pizza and was known as the dish for poor people. In 1889, to honour the Queen consort of Italy, Margherita of Savoy, a Neapolitan pizzamaker created the "Pizza Margherita", a pizza garnished with tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil, to represent the national colours of Italy.

When we arrived at the restaurant there was a huge line up. We took a number (65) and saw that they were on number 41. So we crossed the street and had a delicious pizza at Pizzeria d'Angela. We also ate some amazing bruchetta and green olives and washed it all down with a positively horrible bottle of white wine that resembled something between apple juice and Pinesol. THEN, we crossed back across the street to take up our place in line at da Michele....only to find out that our number had passed...oh well.

When we got back to our apartment, I just could not bear to climb the stairs again, and challenged Nikki to run the steps with me on his back (for 10 Euros). That was an hour ago and he is still heaving in the bed next to me - 10 euros richer!