Finis Italia

My finest photo from Napoli and my last for now.

We journeyed back to Napoli on a Sunday.  A word to the wise, mind your buses once you get south of Salerno.  Transport tends to slow down and bus schedules become nebulous.   Our friend at the tourist kiosk in San Marco, a remarkably tiny and lonely office, actually phoned another friend who was a bus driver.  She said it was the only way to find out the real bus departure times.  It was a good thing we asked as there were only three north-bound buses the entire day.

Past the scenic countryside, past the less than scenic light industrial and farming area south of Salerno, our empty bus wound its way into the sprawl of the port city.  Along the way we had a nice view of the ancient Greek ruins at Paestum.  If you wanted to get your ancient ruins fix and did not want to fight the crowds at Pompeii, this might be your spot.

De-bussing in now-familiar Salerno, we strolled to the station, bought our tickets to Napoli and grabbed a bite of street food.  Napoli cried for us on our arrival as we splashed our way home to our favorite B&B in the Centro Storico.  I derive a great joy from retreading my steps through some labyrinthine city and knowing where I'm going.  The Alfama in Lisboa, Chinatown in Bangkok, these are places that defy even the best sense of direction.  Being able to walk a maze of tiny lanes, stairs and alleys, and the still arrive at some known destination, is one of my secret pleasures.  Now I can add Napoli to that list.  I will still get lost in these places, sure, but that's one of the other joys, yes?

Dinner was a wandering multi-course affair, up and down the wet passageways, picking out street food that called to us.  The last course was lightly fried whole anchovies in a paper cone.  Unbelievable salty fried fishy goodness.  I may live a day less because of them, but they were worth it.

This last night in Napoli I watched the street scene from our balcony, listening to the babble echo off the stone walls.  And so another journey draws to a close.  

On reflection, here is what I took away from this trip to Southern Italy.

First, we really didn't travel to Southern Italy.  To say that would be hubris.  We wandered between Napoli and San Marco on the Mediterranean coast of Southern Italy.  Napoli is an amazing and wonderful city.  I have to give a tip o' the lid to my pal Brenton at Broadway Cigar for waxing eloquent on the city's virtues.  Barcelona or Napoli?  An even tougher choice now, my friend.  We can debate it when next we meet.

Napoli is loud and dirty and crazy and wonderful.  It is a walking city, a place to immerse oneself.  It is a city of tastes and smells, not all of them good, but intense and fascinating.  The food and coffee and gelato are something that simply has to be experienced by any foodie oriented traveler.  To eat badly in Napoli is a a sign of derangement.  If you prefer clean, neat and orderly, Napoli may not be your cup of tea.  Perhaps Sorrento, on down the coast, would be more to your liking.  I say "Napoli!" and I am learning to wave my hands when I do so.  Go.

The Amalfi Coast is a jewel, a walkers paradise, a place where it truly is possible to disappear from the maddening crowds as long as one doesn't actually stay in Amalfi Town.  The hospitality that we experienced along the coast was warm and genuine.  The scenery and vistas will stop the progress of the most determined trekker.  Go, take your walking shoes and go.

South of Salerno the stream of tourists becomes a trickle.  In the shoulder season of May you will have much of the accommodations and trattorias to yourself.  In fact, during the midweek days you may have to do some exploring to find a place to eat or drink that is open for business.  When you do find your spot, odds are that your fellow diners or coffee habitues will be local folks.  Enjoy.  You may have to work a little harder at reservations, transport and the like.  This is the entry price for venturing out.  There are great rewards.  

In addition to the magic of discovering a new region, I return to Vienna with a special gift from a rainy rooftop in the tiny village of San Marco.  My Heart, the finest traveling companion any man could ask for, has agreed to embark on an even greater journey.  The world is truly our oyster and our playground.  And I, I am the luckiest man in it.

From Wien, Ciao for now.