My wife is turning 50 and has chosen Naples as the place to blow out the candles – on board our Carthago, of course. I get the motorhome ready with my usual care, and then we set off. Bend after bend, the journey flies by, because when you’re travelling in a premium vehicle, comfort is with you every step of the way, and the kilometres don’t seem to matter. The suspension smooths out every bump, the soundproofing is incredible, and you can always be sure that your suite on wheels will be ready and waiting, no matter where you stop. You arrive at the rest area already well rested, ready to take the city by storm without having to worry about ‘where I’ll sleep tonight’.
Camaldoli – View of Naples.
We make ourselves comfortable at the rest area in Camaldoli Park. Camaldoli is Naples’ secret vantage point, where you can park your Carthago and touch the sky. You’re in Naples, but not right in the centre of Naples. During the day, you head down to lose yourself in the alleyways and eat a sfogliatella, and in the evening you head back up: you take a shower in your Carthago, sit out on the veranda and gaze at the stars. Having watched *Un Posto al Sole* – the famous soap opera set here – for 30 years now, arriving in Naples felt both strange and wonderful at the same time. You were already familiar with these places, without really knowing them. And the Neapolitans have a way of making you feel at home that’s impossible to put into words. You’re in the bar having a coffee, and when the barman happens to notice that it’s your birthday, he gives you a praline.
Posillipo – A tour of Naples.
Our tour of Naples begins right in Posillipo – between the sea, the sky and a glass of wine. From the viewpoint, you can see Vesuvius towering up before you, and Capri seems close enough to touch. Then there’s Villa Volpicelli, the famous Palazzo Palladini from the soap opera, which towers practically right above the sea, with that crenellated turret that looks just like a castle. Seeing her in person is a strange feeling: she’s exactly as we remembered her, and yet she’s different.
Mergellina – Narrow streets right by the sea.
We’re heading down to the sea; we’re in Mergellina. We’re walking along the Caracciolo waterfront promenade. The sea is on our right, the town on our left, and in between are we, strolling along at a leisurely pace. Ahead of us, floating on the Gulf, lies the Castel dell’Ovo. We stroll through the narrow streets of Borgo Marinari, whilst the scent of fried food wafts towards us from the little restaurants just below the castle walls.
We head back to the seafront promenade and walk up to Piazza del Plebiscito. The square is huge; the colonnade of San Francesco di Paola surrounds you, and on the opposite side, the Royal Palace towers over the square. We cross it diagonally, with our eyes closed, just as children do, to defy the legend.
From there, we enter the Galleria Umberto I: when you look up, you’ll be struck by the light streaming in through the glass and iron dome, and on the floor you can see a star featuring the signs of the zodiac. This is Naples at its most elegant: people are constantly coming and going from the San Carlo.
We come out onto Via Toledo and head into the Quartieri Spagnoli. The washing hanging out to dry, the mopeds, the mural of Maradona: even the chaos here is poetic. In Naples, people eat on the street, and for lunch there’s a steaming ‘cuoppo’, which you tuck into whilst standing against a peeling wall: that’s paradise.
Spaccanapoli – so much to discover.
Shortly afterwards, we find ourselves in Spaccanapoli, the ‘blade’ that divides the city in two. All sorts of things gather along its sides: craft shops, stalls selling good-luck horns, and Baroque churches that suddenly appear before you like revelations. The façade of the Gesù Nuovo, which consists entirely of diamond-shaped bosses, does not look at all like that of a place of worship; yet as soon as you step inside, you are overwhelmed by a profusion of coloured marble, gold and frescoes. Just behind it, the cloister of Santa Chiara, with its hand-painted majolica corridors, offers an oasis of tranquillity.
San Gregorio, even outside the Christmas season.
Even though it’s not the Christmas season at the moment, we couldn’t resist a trip to San Gregorio Armeno, where the shepherds are clearly visible all year round. It’s incredibly hot, and we’ve certainly earned ourselves a cool lemonade: in Naples, even squeezing a lemon turns into quite a spectacle. It’s a ritual. We enter the Sansevero Chapel and stand motionless before the ‘Veiled Christ’: the marble looks just like fabric, and it is hard to believe that it is actually stone.
We’ve still got two hours to spare, so we decide to go and look for Totò’s house. We arrive in the Sanità district – an open-air museum. That is where Prince Antonio de Curtis was born: a commemorative plaque, a huge mural and the little balcony. Rione Sanità is a real slap in the face. Not the gentle embrace of Posillipo, not the picture-postcard idyll of Castel dell’Ovo. This is Naples at its most unvarnished, with its votive kiosks.
Let’s try the ‘Fiocchi di neve’ – which we’d never heard of before amongst the Neapolitan delicacies: they’re brioche buns filled with ricotta and cream. So if a Neapolitan says to you, ‘Let’s go and get some snowflakes’, there’s a 99 per cent chance they’ll take you to a patisserie rather than the mountains.
Vomero – a special view.
The days are flying by, but we’d like to spend a day exploring the Vomero district. From Sant’Elmo Castle, the city looks like a nativity scene: roofs and domes. At the San Martino Charterhouse, you are met by an otherworldly silence, broken only by the sound of footsteps on the marble floors.
Bacoli – a lovely way to round things off.
To round off our holiday, we’re setting off for Bacoli. We arrive at Lake Fusaro for an aperitif. There it stands, right in the middle of the water: the Casina Vanvitelliana. Small, yellow, with a little wooden bridge. That looks fake.
We return to Camaldoli as Naples slowly comes to life. We open the door of Carthago, and the scent of home envelops us. We’re opening the last bottle to mark our 50th anniversary. It’s my wife’s birthday, and we realise that Naples has stolen our hearts. I don’t know, maybe it was because we were tired, maybe it was the wine, but we were happy that evening.
I’d been told: ‘See Naples and die’, but that’s not true. The truth, however, is this: you see Naples and fall in love with it straight away, because Naples is not a postcard, but a slap in the face and a caress all at once.
Cla and Roby
