Navigating Naples

Oh Naples, the city of life-threatening motorcycles, the hilliest, narrowest and windiest of all streets, disturbing graffiti and the mafia. And where pizza was born.

Going from the touristy, beautiful city of Rome to an authentic, grungy town like Naples was definitely a bit of a culture shock that we hadn't prepared for. Don't get me wrong. We actually ended up leaving Naples with a big appreciation for its authenticity and its certain "ugly" charm. But while we were actually there, we were mostly concerned about pressing to the sides of the walls to avoid getting run over by a motorcyle driven by a 12-year old, or figuring out our way through the city with no street names. "Remember? We pass the dog chained to the pole on this street and then walk down the alley with the parked car on the stairs..."

Before our trip, we mostly heard that Naples is a great city to visit in Italy (especially for its infamous pizza), but that it's better to base yourself in Naples and make day trips from there. Luckily, this is what we planned and it all went very smoothly. While we appreciated Naples, I am perfectly happy with our choice to travel to other places while there. Before going into the details of our very fun and successful day trips, I feel I should first describe our favorite memory from Naples (and yes, I speak for everyone on the trip).

I'll have the mafia please...

We had just dropped off our bags at our place in Naples, and an hour later found ourselves walking through the rain, cold, hungry and still a little motion sick from the death-defying cab ride. Earlier on we were given the recommendation to go to a "traitional Naples restaraunt" that was only a few minutes walking from our place. A few minutes to a local was a lifetime for us, as we tried to navigate the most confusing streets in the world. Right when we were about to give up, we found the restaraunt, looking empty and a little intimidating (not sure why). We awkwardly hovered around outside in the rain until a man came out and gave us a casual nod, as if to say, "Come in, don't be shy."

"Traditional" was definitely the right word for this place: plastic checkered tablecloths, fleoroscent lighting, but with a certain homey-charm to it...maybe it was the smell of the home-cooked-style Italian meals.

Or maybe it was the fact that we seemed to be intruding on a an actual family meal.

It didn't take long for us to realize that the entire restaraunt was run by one big, boisterous Italian family. It had actually come to our attention that the reason we had been sitting at a table yet to have any service was because the workers (or brothers, cousins and uncles) were still all eating their family meal together in the next room. The restaraunt hadn't officially opened yet...

A few minutes later, the 15-or-so men all jumped up from the family table while the women in aprons came from the kitchen to clean, slapping men on the back of the heads and cursing them for not finishing the lasagna. A man motioned us to enter the next room because in broken English/Italian he seemed to be saying it was "more comfortable."

Seated in our new location, a 15-year-old boy shyly approached with hand-written menus (obviously written for that specific day). As he stepped away back into the corner of the room, a man (presumably older brother) came by and gave him a pat on the back...learning the business. He also later proceeded to put on some tantalizing rap/dub-step Italian beats that boomed throughout the restaraunt; this only lasted for about 10 minutes until head-honcho bursted in, slapped him on the back of the head (seemed to be a common occurrence) and yelled at him in Italian which we obviously couldn't follow.

Our table:

"What do you think that was about?"

Music abruptly stops.

"Ohhhh...."

As we sat at our table pondering the full-on Italian menu with no English translations, we tried to pick out the most common words we knew: "lasagna, calamari, pesto, spaghetti..." I mean it's the best we could do. We somehow clumsily ordered the food and managed to get red wine as well.

By the time we looked up from our menus the restaraunt was a completely different place. How had we not noticed all these people?! Right as it struck 12:30, the place became packed with groups of Italians, with the exception of a couple of regulars eating alone. We knew they were regulars because without any words spoken, a man would enter the room, scan, walk to his table, put his napkin in his lap and within 2 minutes he had a plate in front of him with a bottle of red wine. The rest of the tables were in and out within 20 minutes and it was fascinating to watch. The 2 to 3 hour Spanish meals were non-exisistent here. A table came in, ate together, got up from their seats, and before they could get exit the buiding, the tablecloth was swiped up with plates and all and a new one placed down for the next group that rolled in.

(The swiping of the tablecloths was our favorite part).

Meanwhile, the 15 to 20 buff Italian men working the restaraunt were all running around, yelling at each other and hugging it out two seconds later-this was all while serving the best pasta and calamari I've ever eaten. They never said much to the customers, and the customers barely even paid attention (partly because every loud, crazy, dramatic Italian conversation seemed to be a contest for the loudest, craziest, most dramatic conversation).

This place was amazing, and not to mention the perfect first impression we could have had in Naples. It sums it all up: authenticity, grungy charm and the 80% chance that we could have sat in a cover-up restaraunt for the mafia.

But really, Naples is actually considered home-base for the mafia...

How cool!!!!

At the end of our meal, we were tossed a few plastic chips and ushered outside. OMG WHAT DO THE CHIPS MEAN ARE WE GOING TO DIE SHOULD WE RUN?!

Oh, thank God. The chips were for free coffee from a cheerful man at his espresso stand outside. "Thanks for coming!"

That was a close one...

#travel