avoiding the mafia since 1982

Greetings from Napoli!

I will begin my post with a rather telling example of the Italian male. Recently, I have signed into Couch Surfing several times in order to search for accommodation in Switzerland.  Upon signing into the site, other users can see your location (not an exact address, just the city and country). Though I have never had any issue with this feature of the site before, I got the following message in my CS inbox yesterday:

Ciao Elizabeth...i've seen that you are in Napoli's area:i've the honour to give you my welcome!! i'm sure that you've already fallen in love with the beauty of this magic city!!...if you too like the idea i'd be so glad to meet you in my city, maybe for a walk or to share a cup aof real neapolitano coffee as the tradiction wants!! my number is (phone number here) ( we can communicate via sms ) my mail is (email address here) kisses!!Valentino

Apparently, in Italia, the Canadian women don't need to contact potential hosts, as per the usual custom of the site; rather, we can just wait for offers to come to us.  Kisses?  Really, Valentino?  

I find myself presently at a really lovely hostel in Naples: the streets aren't safe after dark, and the internet is free, and so blogging seems a good idea.  A city of nearly one million, Naples is a known mafia hotspot, and in addition is socio-economically less "developed" than the well-polished north. This was my first hostel where, upon check in, I was warned to keep my valuables locked and to guard my passport closely. My trusty Lonely Planet guide describes the city as a "raucous hell-broth" (I fit in about as well as I did in Beverly Hills 90210), and this description seemed fitting, as I emerged from the train station this afternoon and trekked the 30 minutes to my hostel. Horns honking, cars and motorcycles swerving, sirens blaring, a middle-aged man making kissing gestures towards me, and the streets incredibly crowded with pedestrians, garbage, and vendors. Simultaneously fascinated by the cultural differences in this city in comparison with any others I have visited on this trip, while also terrified of being run over by a vespa, I endeavoured to people-watch and take many mental photos of my surroundings, as I walked confidently and quickly to the hostel, trying to look at my map as little as possible, and literally jumping out of the way of traffic on several occasions.

When I set out on this journey, I had imagined that I would spend a few days in Naples: I knew I would be spending a lot of time in Italy, and culturally, I saw great value in experiencing the chaos, history, and rawness that is Naples, and not simply the polished touristy destinations. That being said, and as I noted recently, my appetite for big-city hell-broth is much less pronounced right now. And so, I am staying here one night only, more a stepping-stone than a destination, although I will have some time to do some wandering before my train tomorrow at 1pm.

So.  When I last wrote, I was about as far from "raucous hell-broth" as one can get:

Duomo cathedral (view from the beach), Positano

Walk of the Gods, with Positano in the background: Amalfi Coast

Amalfi Coast

View of Positano from the main beach

Fresh pasta with seafood

I LOVED the Amalfi Coast.  I loved its rugged beauty, its ridiculously skinny and treacherous little roads and my little friendly hostel, I loved lying on the beach, swimming in crystal clear water and jumping in the waves, and I loved walking out onto the terrace the last four mornings, cereal and Americano in hand, and eating breakfast overlooking the Mediterranean.  I feel confident that the trip to Switzerland tomorrow is well-timed, but, similar to my departure from Cinque Terre, I felt sad this morning as my bus pulled away from the little town of Positano.  Sad to leave the Amalfi Coast, and also sad to be leaving Italy; when planning this trip, I knew that my stay in Italy would be a significant portion of my stay in Europe, and it is hard to believe that I am about to begin the next "phase" of this journey.

Yesterday, I hiked the famous "Walk of the Gods", a path that begins in the town of Nocelle, high above Positano (where I was staying), and leads along the coast for some spectacular views. With geckos running across the path nearly constantly, lush vegetation (including vineyards and olive groves for a portion of the hike), birds and insects singing, and very few people around, it was truly breathtaking. I opted to take the bus from Positano, rather than walking straight up to Nocelle, but did do the stairs down at the end: over 1000!  The pictures above don't really do it justice, but they give a good idea. Incredible. I also realized yesterday how much I enjoy hiking on my own: going at my own pace, stopping to journal while sitting above the most beautiful lookout spots, and taking in my surroundings while also staying in my inner-world. I had been feeling that my time in Italy required some kind of intentional closure (being the therapist that I am), and this hike was the perfect way to say farewell to Italy, after having been here since September 9th. The hike was also one of the (albeit, many) highlights of the trip thus far: empowered, connected, grounded, and surrounded by natural beauty.

My ability to remain connected and grounded was challenged when I arrived at Praiano (the town at the bottom of the 1000+ stairs) around 2:30pm, sweaty, hot (30 degrees and full sun), dehydrated (my water bottle had been long empty) and hungry, to find the entire little town in the middle of their siesta - shops were all closed between 1pm - 4pm, and the local bus back to Positano did not run again until 4:15pm. The inter-city bus was still running, but required a ticket that needed to be purchased in one of the shops that was closed until 4pm...Alas, I delved into my Alice Munroe, and enjoyed my last splash in the waves when I finally got back "home" around 5pm.

Today, on my way to Naples, I visited Pompeii (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pompeii), the famous Roman town that was destroyed/buried when Mount Vesuvius erupted in AD 79.   Re-discovered in the 16th century, the volcanic ash preserved buildings, art, and even people incredibly well, and one can walk through the streets and buildings of this town, which was founded in the 6th-7th centuries BC. I did not have enough time in Pompeii to see everything (as I needed to get to Naples and find my hostel before sunset), but highlights included temples to Venus and Apollo, a bakery, thermal baths, and several brothels (one in which the original artwork, detailing a number of acrobatic sexual positions, is preserved, along with graffiti from those who frequented the place. Brothels were indicated on the streets by a penis shape protruding from the walls: also preserved).

By the time I arrived in Naples this evening, I didn't have enough time to wander, but did have time for dinner. It was the Neapolitans who invented pizza, and so the best pizzerias in the world are considered to be here (and, as far as I am concerned, that is reason enough in and of itself to visit this city)!  I ate dinner at L'Antica Pizzeria Da Michele, arguably the best pizzeria in the world (and recently made famous by Elizabeth Gilbert and subsequently Julia Roberts' meals there). In true Neapolitan tradition, they serve only two kinds of pizza: Margherita (tomato, mozzarella, oil, basil) and Marinara (tomato, garlic, oregano).  Dripping with oil, covered in incredibly fresh cheese, huge, and delicious.  Eat, Pray, Love, indeed. :)

The longer I travel, the more I realize that I desire to seek those moments of empowerment, groundedness, connection, no matter what my outside circumstances may be. Easier said than done, I notice that I have these moments when I have been in a place for several days (and often when my surroundings are breathtakingly beautiful), and that it is on the days of transitions in which my anxiety level is heightened, where I feel unsettled and unsure. Of course this makes perfect sense, and of course the transitions are hard. I am striving to be more aware of myself in them, remaining connected to solo-traveller Liz, and not just stressing about connection times and pickpocketers. And I will have ample time to put this into practice tomorrow, when at 12:50pm, I take the train to Bern, Switzerland. Despite many people's (rational, indeed) suggestions that I stay south, since the weather is starting to become quite cool (and backpacking in cooler weather simply weighs a lot more), I feel my intuition drawing me to Switzerland. I have Couch Surfing lined up in Bern, and am excited to wander a capital city with a population under 200 000. The same Lonely Planet book that describes Naples as a "raucous hell-broth", portrays Bern, on the other hand, as having "the genteel old soul of a Renaissance man". So long as it's a genteel soul that doesn't make gross kissing noises to me on the street, I am set.

With love

xo