Naples

Having been on a small Italian road trip earlier in the year, it didn't take much to convince me to book some flights to Naples when I saw the BA autumn sales. I'd done my research (of course) and I'd got the impression that Naples was an "historic city, full of character, of mystery: a gem for the explorer wanting to move away from the well-trodden tourist trail."

Accurate? Well, yes and no.

Italian Taxis and Suitcase Surcharges

Day 1

Landing in Naples was a bit of a culture shock, and a good first impression it was not. First-off, since our AirBnb host was waiting for us at the apartment to give us the keys, we decided to jump into a taxi for efficiency, rather than faffing with the unexplored public transport. And here goes my first Naples recommendation: avoid taxis in Naples. First of all, there’s the horrifying driving: our cabbie was on his the phone the entire time (calling and social media), wore no seat-belt, and would swing in and out of the hard-shoulder as he deemed appropriate without a second thought to his indicator. I have never, ever, seen worse and more reckless driving and I was genuinely frightened to be in that car. Next, we got conned on the fare. Despite the meter reading €12, the cabbie demanded €24 for “luggage and airport fees”. Had it been another day, another city, and a language I was fluent in I would have told the cabbie to take a hike. It wasn’t though, and I nervously pulled out €20, the only cash we had, and with a shrug he snatched it out of my hands and screeched off in his taxi. So, if at Naples Airport, I would suggest you catch the bus. We took it on the way back, and it’s a 20-minute ride for a €5 fee from Naples Central Station right to the Airport - easy as anything.

The city of Naples is… A tricky one to describe. To me, it felt alien and unwelcoming, and when I asked our host if the are was dangerous, he pulled that “I mean it’s not dangerous, but…” face. After the unpleasant cabbie experience it did nothing to put me at ease, and to say I was anxious and uncomfortable when we left the AirBnb for dinner is an understatement. As I chewed on our first of many pizzas (1906 Imperatore - a nice restaurant with a friendly vibe that I latched onto like a life-jacket at sea) I hoped that the old saying that “first impressions are lasting impressions” wouldn’t hold true for this trip.

The Mists of Hades

Day 2

Our first morning was a lazy one, which suited us just right. Sam and I tend to have adventure-packed holidays which are amazing, but which tend to feel less like breaks and more like action movies, so it was nice to take it easy for a change before heading off to see Vesuvius and Pompeii.

Not before, let me add, the most psychotic road-crossing that I have ever done. Zebra crossings mean nothing here, and neither do traffic lights nor traffic signs. Any rules or sense I have ever seen applied to the road seem not to apply (should have seen this coming after the cab ride the night before) and crossing the roads feels like something out of Bowfinger (great movie, go watch it). Miraculously, we made it to Naples Central Station, onto a train, and, finally, to Pompeii/Vesuvius station.

Off the train Sam and I were met by a hustle of, well, hustlers. There were stalls, a lot of shouting Italians herding tourists, and Vesuvius, peaceful in the background amongst the clouds. Bullied into a bus (with hidden costs along the way) off we drove up the explosive mountain. Here is my second piece of advice: get to Vesuvius early, because not only does it shut at 17:00, but also it is liable to heavy afternoon fogs which often result in the volcano shutting early. Sam and I made it to the entrance but no further, and there was naught to do but laugh about it and take a polaroid to commemorate not seeing the famous volcano.

Pompeii was next, and thankfully open till late. And let me tell you: it was a magnificent experience. For whatever reason there was nobody at the ruins - and I mean nobody. We walked along deserted cobbled streets and through crumbling houses and found a little brothel, where we (artistically) perused the erotic paintings on the walls. And then came the thunderstorm. It broke over us in the very heart of the Pompeii. Standing under ancient arches and watching the city get washed over by torrential rain was insanely atmospheric. Alone, Sam and I stood amongst the ruins of a two thousand year-old city, as thunder rumbled around us and lighting flashed over our heads.

Vesuvius Take II

Day 3

Vesuvius the second time round was much more successful. Although we originally wanted to save some money and take the public bus up to the volcano, this was not to be in a city where it seems conning tourists is the main job description.

As we walked towards what I later found out was said public bus, an Italian tour guide waved us away, saying there was no public buses today, and to jump on the bus his company operated. A little uncertain I said I was not interested, since a return on the public bus was €8. He offered his bus for €10 with the added bonus of it waiting at the top for us, so we wouldn’t depend on a timetable. Now, overall, I do think it was worth getting picked up and dropped off door-to-door (so to speak), but I was finding it increasingly infuriating to be in a city filled with bullies. I consider myself quite travel savvy, but the “cheat-them-out-of-everything-they-have” attitude to tourists we’d encountered so far had definitely shaken my confidence, and further lowered the city of Naples in my estimation. .

Was Vesuvius worth it? It's a cool visit, and it boasts nice views over Naples and Sorrento. It only takes a couple hours to see, and you can enjoy a cheeky glass of wine (made with Vesuvius grapes!) at three different points on the path around the volcano which I was all for (it’s a miracle there aren’t more bodies in the crater of that volcano). In usual fashion Sam and I walked, drank, photographed and laughed all the way to the top of the volcano, right up until we realised it had taken us 40 minutes to get there, and that we had 15 to get back down before the bus left. All I will say is we made it - but it was not a fun sprint down the mountain.

Dinner was to be had at the Romeo Hotel’s Restaurant and it was a collaboration between two Michelin Starred chefs: the resident chef, Salvatore Bianco, with one star, and the guest chef, Stefano Baiocco, with two. I do honestly recommend saving up for Michelin experiences every now and then, because they can be such a fabulous journeys start to finish. Each dish you're served becomes an event in and of itself, and the food on your table becomes a conversation rather than a quick fix for hunger. Personally, these meals are some of the most fun I've had at a dinner table.

Sorrento

Day 4

Today we were heading to Sorrento, but not before we had the best pizza I have ever had (that Iw ill ever have?) in my life. I wills ay nothing about L'antica Pizzeria "da Michele" other than I would return to Naples only for this place. Two types of pizza. One type of drink. Cheaper than chips. Better than that first sip of ice-cold coke on a hot summer's day.

Sorrento was next up. The train there took over an hour, and was truly crowded, and I think next time I’d be inclined to take the ferry which only takes 40minutes and I’m sure would have boasted much nicer views.

Sorrento is a sweet town, and it reminded me of other wealthy Mediterranean towns. It was rather touristy and had a bit of that “man-made” feel to it, so although quaint and enjoyable I wasn’t bowled-over by it. However, it was nice not feeling like we were walking around with a massive bulls-eye on our backs, and that in itself was worth the visit.

For dinner we were staying in Sorrento, and there was only one restaurant we wanted to go to. A restaurant with an overwhelming amount of 5-star reviews, which all, without fail, described the food as “alright”. So why the 5 stars? Was it a matter of bribery, a cheeky bottle of wine on the house? Or was it more sinister, a waiter standing over the diner’s shoulder, sharpening a knife as they whispered “so five stars, yes?”. Wildly curious we made a booking, and after a G&T on a pier surrounded by the ocean and a buffeting wind, off we went.

Ristorante Bagni Delfino is right on the pier. In fact, it is the pier, with the restaurant seemingly floating over the blue expanse of water, glass walls all around. We were shown to our table, and to my absolute delight it was right-up against the wall, from which all I could see was ocean and, in the distance, Mt. Vesuvius. As the the sun gently set over the cliffs beside us I understood why, regardless of food, people would 5-star this place.

Wine in hand, sipping our evening away, our food arrived. And honestly? Although the starters weren’t that impressive, the mains were actually super tasty, and the portions very generous without being excessive. And so, by the end of the evening, Ristorane Bagni Delfino had one more 5-star review under their belt; no threatening knife-wielding waiter in sight.

In Defence of Capri

Day 5

Capri. I’d done a little bit of research on the island: my mum had made a strong case for visiting it, but Ischia had also cropped up in my research. So Ischia or Capri? That was the question indeed. The general consensus seemed thus: Capri was very, very touristy. Ischia was not. The more research I did the more Ischia sounded like everything I’d love about a place, and Capri sounded like the opposite of that: locals vs tourists, artisan shops vs high-end brands. And yet, and yet, Capri called to me, and so based on nothing at all other than my gut feeling, I picked Capri.

We left the flat earlier than we had all week and power-walked to the port. Ferry’s weren’t regular - they left hourly - and I desperately wanted to be on the 11:10 departure. And for my next piece of advice: get to the port early. It's a confusing maze of ticket booths for buses, ticket booths for trains, ticket booths for different destinations, ticket booths for different ferry companies, ticket booths for the blooming day of the week. And they are not close to each other. Sweating, because today was the sunniest day we’d had all week, we ran from ticket booth to ticket booth as the clock-hands ticked on closer and closer to the dreaded 11:10. When we finally got to the right place it was 11:06 (I kid you not) and as we ordered out tickets the desk-assistant grabbed Sam’s wallet out of his hands, counted-out our fare, and shooed us off in a vague general direction which I’m still amazed we got right. Window seat acquired, I pressed my face against the glass to cool my dripping face, and gazed out at the blue expanse surrounding us.

Capri is beautiful: I cannot emphasise enough how much so. However - and this is important - I would highly advise against visiting here in peak season. Despite it being October, the queue for the tram up to the main piazza was chaotic (albeit fast), and the main piazza up top was fairly busy. It wasn't unpleasant though. Happy people sat at cafes and gelato shops, and there was a lot of good cheer all around. Sam and I had a look around before heading off to our first coastal path, and as soon as we turned the first corner away from the piazza people vanished, a peaceful silence reigned, and it felt like we could have been the only visitors on the island.

It quickly became clear to me that Sam was beginning to exhibit early on-set signs of hanger, so I began pointing out restaurants. My anxiety at anyone around me having a bad time does not play well with hanger, and so after the fifth time I pointed at a random restaurant Sam gave me a raised eyebrow, a shoulder squeeze, and suggested an absolute gorgeous restaurant he could see a little further ahead.

Ristorante Le Grotelle. A solid two hours were spent here, and for good reason. I have rarely seen such absolutely gorgeous views from anywhere, and I almost teared-up a little with the realisation of how much I miss the Mediterranean. There were only three or four other people sitting on the terrace, and a quiet murmur of content voices wafting in the breeze and a general feeling of peace reigned. A gorgeous, unassuming place, informal and approachable, so homey, on an island that I had been warned was only good for buying Prada handbags. I fell a little bit in love with the island here, and I still carry those views in my heart.

By the end of our coastal walk the sun was setting, and Sam and I made our way back to the docks - we had a mission tonight: Sorbillo. The restaurant with a minimum of an hour wait every time of day, every season of the year.

Sorbillo. When we got there the entrance was saturation with people to the point of parody. I had to shove my way through a herd of humans, and when I got to the poor soul who was managing “the list” my heart was filled with sympathy. He spotted me and held up a clip-board with three columns, all filled with names, and game me a look saying 'you really want to eat here this badly?'

To keep a 90-minute wait-time short, I'll say this: the pizzas were nice, yes. But were they worth a 90-minute wait where you had to be on constant alert to hear your name called out? Not so much. Da Michele's might not have had as much of a choice of pizzas, but I would choose that place over Sorbillo any day.

Home & Away

Day 6

I have to be honest: Naples left a bad taste in my mouth. Conned, bullied and made to feel unwelcome are hardly things I look for when going on holiday, and Naples boasted all three. It's true that by the end of the trip I was beginning to feel more at ease in the "historic and mysterious" city's odd atmosphere, but in all honesty, if it weren't for Da Michele's, I wouldn't consider coming back.

Capri, however. Well that's a different story.