When the Moon Hits Your Eye..

The next weekend, we went to Naples, Sorrento, and Capri.  From the beginning, we knew it was going to be an... interesting... trip.  We barely made it to the train.. again, and once we did, it was packed full.  This is an awful allegory, but it reminded me of the literature I've read on the Holocaust, about poor people being packed onto trains and shipped to their deaths.  That's how crowded it was.  We were crammed in between doors and on top of luggage.  Yet, you know, as horrible as it seemed at the time, looking back, that is real European travel, and we're really a part of it now.  We made some adorable Swedish friends on the train also, so it wasn't all bad at all.  When we finally got to Napoli, we were so relieved.  We walked down to catch the bus to our hostel.  When we got to the station, it was deserted, except for obviously American tourists looking worried or lost.  Our broken Italian merited us information that there was a public transportation strike - that there were no trains, buses, or metros running as of now - and they didn't know when they would be running again.  We decided to take a cab.

Naples is so much more crowded than Rome.  The streets were packed from one side to the other with cars, people, and animals going every which way with no system of order whatsoever.  It was so real, so dirty, so down to the core of what an Italian metropolis is.  The lack of tourists made it so intrinsic, so irrefutable. For once, we could feel the real essence of Italy.

Our Hostel in Naples

We finally got to our hostel, which was located, of course, in the most sketch alley possible.  The hostel actually turned out to be wonderful though. It was at the top of 94 painfully tall steps, but it was owned by an Australian woman who had made it into a sort of hippie haven.  A few stray dogs and cats adopted by the Australian lady wandered freely through the hostel, rubbing against everyone they could, so hungry for love denied to them for so long before they came here.  The windows and doors always remained open to the outside world, weather aside.  It made the place so airy and relaxing.  The brightly painted walls, when met with mesh, white mosquito net curtains and clean white bedsheets in the bedrooms made the place sort of etherial - like a kind of heaven.

Once we got settled, we decided to spend the day walking around Naples. We started at a pizza place across the road, which we later found out is the number one pizza place in Italy, and since the best pizza comes from Italy, we had the best pizza in the world.  Afterwards, we shopped as we walked towards the water.  As always with us, a coffee break was necessary.  Every place I go seems to have better cappuccino than the last, and this was no exception.  The coffeeshop sat in the middle of one of the busiest parts of Naples, and I could just feel the rush of life blow past me, like I was stuck in some kind of overcast time lapse.

Ceiling at the Galleria

We continued walking, halfway lost, but too carefree to  be bothered by it.  Suddenly, there in the middle of Naples, we stumbled upon a huge glass building called the Galleria Mall.  It was absolutely gorgeous. On the bottom level are stores, coffeeshops (where we indulged yet again), and a beautiful parlor floor.  On the second, third, fourth, however many levels more there were, were offices and apartments, encased by gilded walls and marble Acanthus reliefs.  Above that sits a giant glass ceiling, composed of several barrel vaults that come together in the most magnificent dome I have ever seen.  It's such a magical, mind-twisting place.  Again, completely whimsical Italy.

Then, finally, we saw the water, complete with Mount Vesuvius in the background.  The Mediterranean Sea takes my breath away.  I am so incapably drawn to it.  I don't know what it is, but the sea just calls to me, calms me, keeps me for hours - it could keep me for my whole life if no one dragged me away I think.  I could stare at it, captivated, forever.  As we walked along the water, a castle came into view.  This place, this country - every time you think it could possibly be normal, it pulls out a huge volcano, a beautiful ocean, or a castle to prove you wrong.  I feel like these are the things that don't exist anymore.  These are the things you hear about in story books with knights and maidens and dragons and trolls.  Yet here it is, all of it, real as it can be.  It truly is like living a dream.  The castle is called Castelle d'uovo, or Castle of the Eggs.  I don't know why, but I figure, it's the Italians' castle, they can name it whatever they want.  Regardless, it was beautiful.

By the time we watched the sunset behind the castle and it started getting dark, we began to get hungry.  We decided it'd be best to eat somewhere along the way back to our hostel.  We wanted to go back a different way than we'd come though, to see a little bit more of Naples than we already had.  We ended up walking through the very expensive, designer part of the shopping district.  I saw my first John Galliano store, which was of course across from Gucci and Prada.  Interspersed with all of the most famous names were a lot of stores that specialize in wedding dresses.  These dresses, like everything else in Italy, were beautiful.  I feel like I overuse that word terribly, but it fits everything here so well.  If I could think of a definition for beautiful, it would be so many different things - but all things that I've seen  - all meshed together into one single abstract notion that transcends anything that we as human beings can create or imagine.

While we were walking, jaws at our feet while we window shopped, it started pouring.  Even the rain was special here though. It seemed to make the lights glow brighter or something.  I remember beautiful faces, all masking hearts of gold, a rush of people inspired by the rain instead of put off by it.  They embraced it - to them, it only made their night more romantic.  We enjoyed it too for a while, but our stomachs were growling.  When we were thoroughly soaked through, we decided it'd be a good idea to find somewhere to sit and eat for a while until the storm passed.  There were plenty of restaurants around until we decided to look for one.  It started really raining then, and we could not find a place to eat.  Finally, in a back alley, we found this little hole in the wall pizzeria.  I ordered gnocchi, and it was sooo good.

The next day, I had one goal - to make it to Pizzeria Da Michele.  I hold Elizabeth Gilber's Eat, Pray, Love in almost as high esteem as the bible, and in fact, it serves as a kind of guidebook for me.  Liz Gilbert and I think a lot alike, and we're almost on the same sort of journey.  In the book, she eats at Da Michele, and she swears that this pizza is the best in the world.  It was sort of a soul-fulfilling exercise for me to eat there.  I couldn't leave Naples without it.  Megan is as big a fan as I, and we agreed that it was worth alot.  We had both heard that the lines at Da Michele get ridiculous, and you could be waiting hours to get in.  We would have waited all day.  We decided that it was absolutely necessary for us to be at the pizzeria no later than 9 in the morning to beat the crowds, or to at least get a good spot in line, not too terribly far from the front.  We got everyone up at six and got going on the long walk to our destination.  The light was beautiful that morning.  The sky was so blue and refreshing and crisp - the way it is at sunrise in the mountains.

Yet another cappuccino - while waiting for pizza!

We got to Da Michele at 9, just like we had planned.  There was no line and the doors were closed.  There was a cook standing outside, and when the six of us walked up excitedly, he seemed so confused. He asked us where we were going, and we said we were here for pizza.  He looked at us, looked at his watch, then up at Da Michele and back at us like we were crazy.  He told us that they didn't open 'til eleven.  Of course they don't open to eleven - this is Italy - what were we thinking?  Luckily, there was a coffeeshop not far from there, and we went and sat and talked until eleven. I ran back and forth between the two, thinking that a line would begin to form.  It didn't.

Finally, eleven o'clock came and we walked back to the pizzeria.  There was still no line and we were the first customers.  We each ordered a coke and a margarita pizza (which they're famous for).  While we waited, we took all of the pictures we could of the little, tiny restaurant.  Then the pizzas came.  They were huge and steamy and melty and delicious looking.  We all figured we could eat a whole one because Liz Gilbert ate two, no problem.  Now I was not so sure.

We sat there for a long time.  We sat there for close to two hours.  A long line formed outside, just like we said it would, and the restaurant got crowded.  The owners were getting antsy that we had been taking up the same six seats for so long, and we began getting dirty looks from all of them.  An Italian couple sat down next to us, and within ten minutes of getting their pizzas, they were finished.  We asked them, "Why do you eat it so fast?" and they told us that you have to eat it quickly or it cools off and then it tastes bad.  I wouldn't say it tasted bad cold, (after all, we are American, and we do eat cold pizza for breakfast by choice), but I can see their point.  We also learned that the way the Italians eat it is this:  They fold the entire pizza in half and pick it up with their hands and eat it.  It makes the eating process go a lot more quickly, and the crust is thin enough that you're not eating just dough.  It is amazing also that, for the lack of ingredients, the pizza has so much flavor.  All that it is is dough, red sauce, mozzarella, (fresh of course), and basil (also fresh).  Cheers to that.

We finally all finished and walked out thinking we wouldn't be hungry again for days.  I'm glad I ate there though - I feel like it was something I had to do - a Pilgrimage of sorts.  A way to find my way back to who I am and come to terms with all that's happened in the past year, and the fact that things are better now.  After all, isn't that the most important thing? Knowing yourself?
After we left Pizzeria Da Michele, we decided to go to Sorrento, which is on the north side of the Amalfi Coast, on the opposite bank of the Mediterranean as Naples.  The train ride would only take an hour. Along the way, we walked through a traditional Italian market.  I picked up a pair of new sunglasses - knockoff Raybans.  I know, I know, knockoffs?  It's the Italian way!
We made it to the train station, bought our tickets, and got on the train.  It was truly the smoothest we have been able to complete that process since we've been in Italy.

When we got to Sorrento, it's like we had pulled up in a different world.  It was so clean and beautiful and sunny and there were flowers everywhere.  It seemed like some sort of town you would read about in a book like The Giver, except, not creepy.  Since we're so good at shopping, we decided to do a little in Sorrento.  I bought myself a new watch so I would finally know what time it is.  It was a really great investment, considering I always make it to class on time now.  While we were walking around, we found out that Sorrento is where Limoncello was created.  There are lemons everywhere.  Every store you walk into has something lemon themed, and some stores are completely lemon themed.  Some stores give out shot sized samples of limoncello.  Some sell lemon soap, lemon dishes, or the biggest lemons I have ever seen in my life.  The whole town smells like lemons - and lemons clear your senses like you would not believe.

After we were done shopping, we decided to take a walk out towards the water.  We ended up really lost, but we were in a beautiful neighborhood with huge mansions and flower lined cobblestone roads. And then suddenly, the whole world opened up in front of us and we could see the work of God before our eyes.  The Mediterranean stretched out before us - big and clear and blue and wonderful.  All of the waterfront homes climbed up the mountain with their white roofs.  They looked like they might all tumble down into the water at any second.  They were suspended between the sky and the sea - what more wonderful place is there than that?
We stayed there for a long time.  We just couldn't pull ourselves away until we absolutely had to, and then, we made our way back to the train, and back to Naples.

The next day, we decided to go to Capri.  I don't think there are words to describe how I feel about Capri - only that I could move there right now and be happy for the rest of my life.  I felt like I was almost one with it - it beat with my heart, it breathed when I breathed.  We left the hostel at six in the morning, and walked all the way around in the town, in the most roundabout way possible, to the ferry.  By the time we got there, the earlier, cheaper ferry was already full.  We ran down to the next dock and paid a little more for a faster boat.  I tried hard to stay awake until we got there, but I just couldn't.  When I woke up, I saw the island out the window.  It took my breath away.  It literally left me unable to breathe... The first glimpse of Capri was almost too much to bear in the most beautiful way possible.

Our beautiful breakfast in beautiful Capri

After we got off the boat, we decided to slow down for a second and stop for a cappuccino and cornetto.  We found a cute little seaside cafe and ordered our breakfast.  We watched the water and the people all around us.  We saw the open air taxis try to negotiate their way through the mobs of people with red earphones that had just gotten off of the Disney cruise ship.  We let the sea breeze blow our hair any way that it preferred.  There, at that exact moment in time, we simply were.  We were not am imposition on the environment around us - we simply existed in space and time.

After we got off the boat, we decided to slow down for a second and stop for a cappuccino and cornetto.  We found a cute little seaside cafe and ordered our breakfast.  We watched the water and the people all around us.  We saw the open air taxis try to negotiate their way through the mobs of people with red earphones that had just gotten off of the Disney cruise ship.  We let the sea breeze blow our hair any way that it preferred.  There, at that exact moment in time, we simply were.  We were not am imposition on the environment around us - we simply existed in space and time.

After we ate, we decided to do it up in true Capri style and take the tram up to the top of the island. Downtown Capri is located at the very top of the island, and it has the most spectacular views.  Waiting for the tram was an experience though.  There was a huge mob - and i mean mob in the most literal sense I can.  We could not move and had to hold onto each other to keep from getting separated.  The tram can only take seventy people at once, and as soon as those gates open, the whole crowd pushes forward like the tide coming in.  They push and shove, but that is the Italian way.  I had an old Italian woman grab me by the shoulder and pull me back behind her.  There was a woman from the Disney cruises standing close to us, and we couldn't help but laugh.  You could tell she was from America - from somewhere in the deep south.  She was yelling at the top of her lungs, "can't you see I'm in line here?? We're all in line! WAIT YOUR TURN!"  But everyone who understands that there are no lines in Italy pushed their way past her, and after a while, she gave up on trying to change everyone's minds.  We we finally got onto the tram, it was worth the wait.  The views grew more spectacular as we climbed closer to the top.

Then we reached the top.  Nothing can prepare a person to see that kind of view.  You feel like the whole world is within your palm.  You are literally on top of the world.  It was at that moment that I lost my soul to Capri - to the Mediterranean.   I will crave the sea for the rest of my life on Earth.  Cliffs sprung up from the water and white homes crawled up from the beach like ants carrying away the cake from a picnic.  The air was so fresh and clean - we were invincible and young and happy.

These are the places you see in calendars or tourbooks you pick up and never do anything with.  And yet there we were, at the top of the island of Capri - pronounced CApri, with the emphasis on the first syllable.  They'll all know you're a tourist if you say it the other way.

Again, we shopped, as this is what we do as often and in as many places as we can. The stores here were so beautifully laid out, so airy and light and pretty - they were meant to be in Capri and nowhere else.  It was at this point that I decided, if I did ever move to Capri, I would make a living selling flowers.  They grow so colorfully and naturally here, and every place needs a florist.  I've wanted to do that for my whole life, and what a perfect place to do it in.  I found a flower shop that looked out over the water.  The entire thing was filled to the brim with the most colorful blooms you can imagine.  There was barely room to walk - but there was plenty of room to wonder.

Down the Rabbit Hole

The island of Capri is truly a series of white tunnels that compose a maze up and down the mountainside.  The roads are so narrow that barely one person can fit through them.  The arches are so clean, and there are so many nooks and crannies - it's truly the island form (and the more sinful seaside version) of Assisi.  It would be so terribly easy to completely lose yourself to this island.  You could wander down an alley, find something completely beautiful and be gone forever.  Everything was so simply filled with light - it's something I have never seen before.  The Mediterranean sun touches every surface on the island of Capri - even the food.  Capri is the birthplace of caprese - and there is no better food to eat while you're there than that.  The whole place makes you feel as light as a feather - like the rest of the world doesn't exist - and even if it did, it wouldn't matter.

While we walked through the shops and restaurants that boasted celebrity regulars, we came upon the oldest store established in Capri that is still standing.  The lady who worked there was the third generation owner - the property had belonged to her grandmother and her mother before she took over. She was such a character - full of stories and Italian songs.  The store contained the most ornate and lovely dishes.  I asked her, "fare posso una foto?"  to which she replied, "si." That's the deepest Italian I know, but it garnered me a photographic memory of the dishes that I hope will be in my kitchen someday - a kitchen that overlooks the sea from the mountainside of Capri.

Once again, shopping led us seaward.  The busy, tourist infested piazzas gave way to tiny brick alleys with huge mansions rising above them.  Flowers lined the cobblestone streets and celebrity wealth met Mediterranean beauty in white couches perched atop cliffs and iron gates guarding homes with names like 'Fendi' on the intercom system.

There are no words to describe the landscape of the island.  Just off the coast, two large rocks jolt upward out of the water - I think they're called the Mermaid Rocks.  They're so surreal, as if they're not even from this world.  They worship the sun too, as it reflects off of them back into the sky.  Boats cruise down under and through them all the time.  Someday I'll go back and take a ride.  I have to. We ended up climbing up the side of a mountain, which turned out to be more of a hike than we had intended.  My good ol' black flats did the job though, and the view was worth the sweat.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.  I will make it back to Capri someday, but for now, my last memory of it is how it shrank into the distance as I stood on the ferry and watched it go.  Everyone else fell asleep on the ride back, but I just couldn't.  I was so drawn to the sea, so undeniably attracted to the island that I was glued to the outdoor back deck of the boat for the duration of the trip.  As the island fell into the distance, so did a little piece of my heart, and it still rests there.