25: Recreational robbery, death tourism and the life of Pulcinella in Naples

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”Dude, Stop crying or I’m going to smack you”

I wanted to kick him. I’d never had anyone laugh at me so hard they started crying and couldn’t finish their sentence. “Look, I know what I’m doing is crazy. I don’t need you laughing at me for it.”
My time in Napoli would finish much better than it began.
In desperation, I had stopped at a garbage disposal company on the outskirts of Napoli, trying to find the correct road to my host’s home. I had been inside Napoli, gotten turned around, and taken the wrong road back out of town. Now I was 20 km away and running low on fuel. When the man at the weigh station booth heard that I had traveled to Napoli from Rome on a Vespa with luggage, he lost the ability to talk. He stammered, “You….you…you…rode here on that! You are so far from Napoli! You can get there, but it is … so far from here!” Actually, it was more broken up with gut busting laughter than that. However, I didn’t have the patience to listen to him laugh at me then, and I don’t have the patience to try and reconstruct it now. I didn’t even tell him I’d actually ridden it from a lot further away than Rome.
Yet this turned out to be another opportunity for the world to show me grace. One of the guys at the factory was getting off work, and riding in my direction on his own scooter. He escorted me all the way to my exit and I eventually found my host - my best host yet - Marisa.

Wonderful new hosts

Marisa, a brilliant biologist, met me a couple of blocks away from her home, and quickly calmed me own. As a woman, she has the perfect balance of charm, sharp humor and assertiveness to make a disoriented traveler feel secure.
Later that evening, I met her daughter, Elena, who spoke fairly good English, but actually refused to speak it in front of her mother (in protest of her inclination to critique). Elena, like me, is fascinated with psychological perspectives that people use to approach any situation. We spent almost an hour talking about the use of propaganda during WWII and its current application on Fox News and other mainstream media outlets.

Nuovi amici

After dinner, Elena invited me to go out with her friends. Soon I was swept away with a posse of new friends, all of them speaking English.
Antonio is Elena’s best friend, and soon he was mine too. A handsome young Italian man with an admiration for many things American, Antonio said he wanted to be a journalist at the New York Times one day. I did my best to talk him out of the New York Times, as he apparently wants to work at the “best” newspaper in the country. I pitched the St. Petersburg Times at him; the winters are better anyway.
Along in our crew was Elena’s friend Shakila, a beautiful Italian-Brazilian-Indian, who is studying medicine in London, and her British boyfriend Namir, who had the pleasure of driving our crazy train (along with their new friend Sara, who spoke only a few phrases in English). Namir had never been to Napoli before. He didn’t know where anything was, and the streets were narrow and atrocious.
Napoli, from my experiences thus far, has the best people, the best food, the best nightlife, the best pizza, the best views, and unquestionably the worst roads in Italy.
I was constantly impressed with the way that Namir navigated the impossible streets, with the six of us packed in Shakila’s clown car, trying against all odds to find a parking space.
We went out for a drink, though most of them didn’t drink. For some reason, I was amused at the idea of seeing what would happen if I ordered a Pina Colada on this side of the world. Sure enough, it was a complete disaster. A pile of mini ice rocks at the bottom of a glass of creamy rum was what I got; served me right. That’s like ordering ocean fish in Kathmandu. Ever try the escargot in Alice Springs?
There was a Confederate flag on the ceiling of the bar. This really caught me off-guard, and was probably the last thing I expected to see in Napoli. Antonio informed me that the flag had no significance to Italians except as a reference to The Dukes of Hazard, which seems to be popular all around the world. Thanks Luke!
We left the bar and my escorts took me up to an overlook above the city. The lights were as dazzling as any city in the world. Just beside us was the wall of the old castle, perched to look down on all the ordinary folk. We were there on a Wednesday night after midnight, yet there were hordes of people socializing, speaking their Neapolitan dialect and romancing. I was informed that the next day was a festival, and most people wouldn’t have to work.

Death tourism

The next day I visited Pompeii.
I hate condescension, so I’ll be brief with the back-story. Ancient city (probably 30,000 people)… destroyed by Mt. Vesuvius around the time of Christ… almost immaculately preserved… covered in lava (now excavated).
I remembered reading a short story about a boy and his dog from Pompeii when I was in elementary school - never imagining I would actually be here someday. I think Futurama did a take-off on that concept on the episode where Fry got chryo frozen and his dog waited for him. I think I actually cried when I watched that one. I really don’t think I’ve ever cried for another cartoon.
Apart from loving the most delicious, sugar-dusted, crème filled croissant I ate before entering the city, I have very strong feelings about Pompeii. I didn’t see it all, and I don’t think I want to visit again. I’m not saying it wasn’t amazing; it was.
Visiting Pompeii is a bit like being a scuba diver in the belly of a sunken ship, with the skeletons of the crew all around you.
At first I just went nuts with my camera shooting everything and thinking how cool the stuff looked. But soon, as I walked through a city that was completely destroyed in only a couple of minutes with thousands of people inside, a serious depression came over me.
Every death was individually horrible, and excruciatingly painful. It came down the mountain at about 80 km per hour, pouring through their front doors, and melting the flesh off their legs while they climbed their furniture, even onto their roofs until it swallowed them there too.
As I trudged along, alone, I felt like I was carrying the weight of thousands of lost, screaming souls. Then, looking to my side and seeing a family with small children running along the pathway and laughing, I decided I didn’t want to be there anymore. I went home to write.

A little hedonism, now and then, is good for everyone

Napoli is famous for being the home of pizza. Marisa took me out for pizza at the place across the street from her home, and it was as good as any pizza I had ever had in my life. For some reason it isn’t hard to eat a full pizza when you are in Italy. In America, three slices is all I can handle. In fact, the pizza is so sweet and delicious, I could almost eat a second one for dessert. Except in Napoli the desserts are delicious too, so don’t miss it.
That evening we gathered up the crew again and went dancing at a club until 2a.m. We played foosball, danced wildly, and I met Elena’s cousin, best friend, and this big, friendly extremely drunk fellow who kept trying to kiss her. Good times!
I had the pleasure of trying some of the gelato, for which Napoli is famous. In America, Neapolitan ice cream is three different flavors together: Chocolate, Strawberry and Vanilla. This comes from the tradition that in Naples, you get to choose three gelato flavors to go. Only in Napoli, you get to choose your own flavors from a full display of delicious. It was expensive, but thoroughly worth it. I couldn’t eat it all in one serving, but I am hoping my hosts were able to find something to do with the rest of it.

Best guided tour of Napoli ever

Marisa got off her overnight shift at 8am, and, like some kind of non-human creature, was able to shrug of the lack of sleep to spend the day with me. There could be no better guide to such a lovely city. Marisa’s family was from Napoli from as far back as anyone in her family could remember, maybe thousands of years.
After we took the Funicolare (a type of vertical train) down the side of the mountain, Marisa showed me one of the classiest places in the city to live, near Piazza Montesanto. She said it was impossible to move to the area because all the families living there were the “old rich;” they protected their territory. Marisa, on the other hand, came from a family that had raised itself out of the gutter. Her grandparents had no education at all, but when the doors of opportunity opened after WWII, her father studied relentlessly to eventually become a skilled and famous surgeon.
Medicine ran through the bloodline, as Marisa herself became a biologist, married a doctor, and her daughter is studying hard to become a pediatrician.
Marisa showed me the fortress of Castel dell’ovo in the harbor, and the old fisherman’s village of Santa Lucia (where the mafia used to sell black-market cigarettes), the highest rated hotel in Europe, Italy’s only “skyscraper district”, the old palace and the cathedrals.

Recreational robbery

One story that really grabbed my attention was the Neapolitan invention of recreational robbery. Like rich people who want to go “running with the bulls” in Spain for the adrenaline rush, Napoli’s Spanish Quarter is a great place to get suited up with expensive jewelry and bring your cash to be robbed “just for the thrill of it.” How exciting is it just to hear those lovely words in Italian, “mettere su le mani,” or “Stick ‘em up”? Marisa said wealthy people had been doing this occasionally ever since a popular German magazine had done a piece on the crime in this area (and paid someone to hold them up on camera).
I personally have mixed feelings about this whole arrangement. On one hand, it gives the criminal the chance to feel justified, and rationalize that maybe they aren’t committing a crime (maybe you wanted it), possibly inciting more criminal activity. On the other hand, if you happen to be robbed, it gives you the opportunity to cooperate like you “wanted” to get robbed, making the robber feel more secure that you are less of a law enforcement liability (making them less likely to kill you). My assessment is that this situation leads to more crime, yet more pleasant criminal experiences for both parties.
Naples was where I discovered commedia dell’arte characters. Commedia dell’arte characters are 15th century folk theater characterizations of the people and attitude of each Italian city. The character of Napoli is Pulcinella. The Pulcinella character is playful and constantly doing something fun or amusing, but never working.
Marisa led me to the gardens the palazzo arcivescovile, behind one of the cathedrals. This was where the Franciscan priests would relax and gather their thoughts. All along the walkway were delicately hand painted tiles in a style unique to Napoli. They reminded me of Spanish and Portuguese work, but there was something different about them and the stories the depicted.

The Food

Napoli has the best food in Italy. I know “them’s are fighting words” but really it makes sense. The home of mozzarella, the home of pizza and gelato - these are well known. However, you probably haven’t tried the sfogliatella. Marisa insisted that I try the two varieties of this pastry at two different specialty shops, on each side of the city. Indeed, stuffed with ricotta, this is my new favorite pastry.
To go with their sfogliatella, Neapolitans like to drink their coffee with “Three c’s”: Come Cazzo Coce (hot as a penis). In Italy, they will serve you water with your coffee, which you are supposed to drink beforeyour coffee, to clear your palate.
Continuing on the topic of food, Marisa was good to her word: she took me to the recognized “best pizza restaurant in Napoli”, Da Michele. Considering that Italy makes the best pizza in the world, and Napoli makes the best pizza in Italy… if this restaurant made the best pizza in Naples, then it may well be the “best pizza in the world.” Now think for a minute how much the “best steak” in the world might cost. How about the “best sushi in the world,” or the “best fish.” The best pizza in the world can be had for €4. The only catch is that sometimes the city is working on the septic line, and every time someone opens the door you get to choke on toxic gases and listen to the sound of a jackhammer. Paradise! Their margherita pizza lived up to its legend. It is impossible to say though if it was “better” than the other amazing pizzerias on almost every corner.

Do we cry now or cry later?

After my favorite two days in Italy, I had to get moving once again. It was the first time in this country that I simply felt like throwing anchor and staying with my new friends for a while. As a final insult, after all the great weather of the previous two days, it turned simply terrible as I left. Even with something that felt like a tropical storm coming in, I knew there was no turning back.
As I left Napoli, I disregarded Marisa’s advice for taking the autostrade. It would have been so much easier, but I thought I knew better. As I wandered up and down steep streets in the rain, the bike slipped out from under me and I flew into a puddle.
The ride was long and brutal. I opted against my original coastline trajectory, because a rainy beach is nothing to look at, and I had left too late to waste any time.
At the last minute of sunlight, I stumbled upon a road sign to my destination, the tiny, unknown village of Lauria, in the regione of Basilicata. I was so happy to see it before the darkness overtook me that I relaxed just a little. That was all it took.
On the windy mountain road to Lauria, cold and very wet, I braked too hard going into a steep turn, and hurled myself down the mountain.
To be continued…?

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Photos

NapoliFriends
Elena, Antonio, Shakila, Me and Namir

b-castle
Me, at Castel dell'ovo in the harbor.

statue
Hot.

b-trip
Napoli has Italy's worst roads.

Clinton pizza
When Bill isn't eating Big Macs, he's macking on the Best Pizza in the World!

garden
Franciscan priests used to hang out here.

Spanish Quarter
A great place to get mugged.

Castel 2
Inside Castel dell'ovo

Laundry
Colorful

Marisa Pizza
My friend Marisa, holding the best pizza on the planet at Da Michele.

Pulcinella
Pulcinella, the character of Napoli

Comments

[maurizio]

SEI FORTE BERNARDO!
CARISSIMO BERNARDO! really magnificient your blog.We commented your news from Naples. A real scoop.We think your blog's readers would enjoe very much the experience you are having in Italy.Tommorow we will be in Germany and nexst week on the mountains near Bolzano with a bunch of friends. Ciao and keep sending your news ciao maurizio.

[Dolemitesprint]

thanks
Thank you Maurizio! I am so happy to hear you are enjoying reading my blog as much as I enjoy writing it. Enjoy Germany!! I hope to visit later this year. You have to cross Austria first though, have a good trip.