AN ODE TO NAPLOLI

I’ve been waiting some time (try three years) to write this post. While most of us have put our travel plans on hold for the foreseeable future, taking a trip down memory lane is never dangerous. I’ve had the opportunity to delve into just how grateful, lucky, happy and utterly blessed I am that I was able to travel as much as I have in the past 24 years. And one of the trips I constantly think about was the weekend I spent in Napoli.

I visited during the summer I spent abroad in Rome, where I studied Art history. On the weekends, my friends and I traveled to other European cities. This particular weekend, we all had different plans: I had planned to visit a friend, who, luckily for me, was born and raised in Naples. At the time, we didn't know each other too well, but her kindness was apparent from the beginning: she would show me her city, allowing me to stay for the night, before heading back to Rome and my studies. Only an hour away by the fast train, I chose the slow train option instead, which took me through the rolling Italian countryside in about 3 hours.

Many visitors to Naples lament that the city is not what they would have liked. Much rougher than the romanticized Italian cities filled with historical homes, architectural gems and paintings, Naples very much represents the real Italy. Crammed homes and apartments tower above you, with clusters of families gathering for Sunday dinner. Naples is by and far known for its rougher neighborhoods and people. Don’t let this stop you, however, as the city and its people were perhaps my favorite part of the entire summer.

We started the weekend by visiting a local beach. Filled with rocks, we swam around and were completely emerged in the ocean. We visited friends at night, having some of the best ragu I’ve ever tasted. And we stayed up all night - the scene consisted of young people spilling out on the streets, populating the sidewalks and roads from street side bars. Order aperol spritz’s for 2 euros, and join your friends on the sidewalk, where everyone seems to know each other.

From there, we ventured to the waterfront, where the daytime and evening is teeming with tourists and locals alike. But visit during sunrise, where the view of Mt. Vesuvius is unparalleled.

The morning after consisted of eating pizza, folded in half, and arancini. Walk through authentic markets and stalls on a Sunday, where the cities young are sleeping off late nights, and the entire city seems to be slumbering, but awake. Tiny, winding streets are peppered on each corner with roadside altars to the city’s saints and patrons, laundry hang from clotheslines connecting the buildings to one another.

As we arrived back at the train station for my trip back to Rome, I knew that Naples had changed me. I still feel it even now. I think back to the freedom the city instilled in me, the need for travel to simply go with the flow. It’s why I still have hope that things, albeit not soon, will resume. We will travel the world once again, meeting with locals and strangers, who quickly will become some of your closest friends and favorite cities, unexpectedly.