Pompei - Naples
From Hey we're packed!!! Now there are only hours til we go...hours of clock watching so we don't miss th in Pompei, Italy on Aug 15 '08
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We headed south past Rome and Gabe handed in her drivers licence as we passed Naples - you certainly don’t need one down there.
We arrived at our B&B in Pompei, settled in and soon asked our host Antonio about where to go for tea. He suggested a friend’s Pizzeria 8 or 9 km’s away and that we 11 should just take one car. Anyhow we headed off in 2 cars thank you very much, had a wonderful meal and tackled the night drive through outer Pompei, home. Absolute bedlam! It was Saturday night and every Neapolitan and his dog was out cruising. Gabe sat on Michele’s rear bumper with barely a bee’s whisker between them because Ade and Moneypenny were in the front car. The Neapolitans barely squeeze an ant’s eyelash between cars, they cut, push in and veer at you all the time. There are no rules, only a guiding principal that you should try not to have an accident. Owen noticed that heaps of car’s side mirrors were either non existent or severely dinged up. Somehow we made it home unscathed.
3 fat Mafiosi guys were raking in money like pulling fish from a brimming net
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Up early and off to Sorrento. We walked along a lavish jetty, past umbrellas mushrooming in rows alongside sparkling water and sun drenched Italians, very proud of their bodies no matter what shape they were in. The organised jetty would have cost about $150 for 11 swimmers, so we followed the hand written cardboard signs to the free beach. It was not as flash as the rip off one – it was a 4m by 5m strip of black rocky sand in the only cliff shaded part of that coastline - but it was free. The kids had a ball splashing about – it has been so damn hot here!!!
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Next day we trained it to Naples – hot hot hot with all senses on alert. These guys have a reputation for being the world’s greatest pickpockets so everyone looks dodgy and you become obsessive compulsive about keeping your hand on your wallet.
We ended up at an old prison perched on top of the western hills of Napoli. After the red rooves of the north, it was amazing to look out over an ancient city almost entirely dressed in white. The cool sea breeze soothed our frazzled minds and the awesome views helped us appreciate that these Neapolitans have more in common with the Greeks and Middle Eastern tribes than to their northern Italian cousins.
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We decided that we had better take a stroll through the Pompeii ruins as we could almost throw rocks at them from our air conditioned apartment. The guy at the ticket office said that Italian kids got in free but Aussie kids had to pay, so Marina became an instant mother of seven and we were on our second honeymoon. A bit of freedom even though it only lasted as long as it took to get through the turnstiles and out of view. Despite this Leon held hands with Marina most of the way through the tour – he attaches himself to women so easily. By the way poor 5 year old Leon hardly knows how old he really is – usually four year olds don’t pay admission so he is our trained seal – how old are you Leon? – he puts up 4 fingers at call.
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Matera was a long drive away but such an incredible place. The hills are made of limestone and are dotted with caves. Neanderthal man moved in thousands of years ago and the caves were continually occupied up until around 1960 when the Italian government was shamed into coaxing the dirt poor disease ridden inhabitants into the “newer section of town” with electricity and running water. We wandered through the abandoned caves exploring the odd ones that weren’t padlocked and trying to figure out what life would have been like for the poor buggers scraping out an existence here. We went to look in one cave and were faced with an angry dog barking and snapping at us. Thank heavens it was caged into the cave. We had found the town’s dog pound. This really touched all the kids’ hearts as the poor animals were in putrid conditions, with Gabe giving her last mouthful of water to one poor beast and becoming distressed at not being able to help the rest. One in particular was a beautifully natured mongrel named Pepe (Pepper). We had been trying to figure out names for the dogs that we will get when we get home and now it looks like Pepe will be one for sure. We had a look through a cave that was a church and as we wandered through I realised that people had been worshipping their gods here for thousands of years before Jesus walked the Earth. In later years it was obviously Christianised, and frescos remain that must be at least 5-600 years old.
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Team Z sounds like a Brady Bunch family with everything perfect, but it isn’t always like that. We were heading to Capri on Owen’s birthday. It was a combination of many late nights and early starts, being consistently on the go, missing the train, complaining that wouldn’t cease, the heat, mistakes in schedules, running to catch the bus and the ferry – get the picture? Not the happiest part of Owen’s birthday but it did get better.
We did eventually make it to the Island of Capri, a beautiful gem in the Mediterranean Sea. We hopped on a boat that circumnavigated Carpi and showed off the wondrous cliff faces and sea caves.
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But the highlight for all of us was the Grotta Azzura (blue cave). Let me set the scene for you. We were bobbing about on our 30 footer which was anchored off shore. The skilful sea-weathered Italian men pulled their small rowboats along side and ferried people usually in groups of 4 to the cave. Still others ferried people from a massive line on shore at the base of a towering cliff. All 6 Team Zedders piled into this one rowboat and handed over 60 Euro for the entrance fee. Our oarsman nipped over and joined the cue of rowboats to hand the dough on to the 3 fat Mafiosi guys on a barge. They were raking in money like pulling fish from a brimming net. What happened next is indescribable, but lets have a go. We approached the cave and were shocked to see that it was no more than a foot higher than the rowboat. We bobbed about waiting with other boats, drenched with the spray from the cave entrance. The oarsman watched the rise and fall of the waves, then we all ducked below the gunnels and he pulled us into the tiny cave opening with an ancient chain attached to the walls. Inside it is cavernous, perfectly calm - but the water – it is so blue – azure – electric blue – aqua marine – ultra marine – there are no words in English to describe it – it is alive. The oarsman sang “O Sole Mio” with a passable baritone voice that rang beautifully inside the cave. He rowed us around the cave, splashing the oar at the opening, on the second lap our verbally skilled oarsman guilted us into giving him a large tip. Then it was over and we cruised through the tiny entrance to the outside world with incredibly beautiful memories.
We went out for tea in Sorrento that night and at the end of the meal the waiters brought out a cake with candles. “Buon complianno” was sung by everyone and Owen’s response was “how did they know it was my birthday?”
Southern Italy is famous for the Mafia, and while we didn’t come across any hit men, we sure got a feel for the way of life down there. What really boils down to a complete lack of respect for the law is really just the way of life there. People openly push the boundaries of what is accepted by the authorities. We were in a traffic jam and some guy raced down the white line with his little kid standing up on the back seat of the car, traffic millimetres on either side of him. We wanted to go out to a restaurant so Antonio (from the B&B) rang his mate Dr Mazzoni. Dr Mazzoni rang the restaurant and told them to expect us. Antonio said that we must mention that we were sent by the doctor. We did so and were waited on hand and foot, wonderful food, great wines the whole bit. As we left we got a big discount because we were friends of Dr Mazzoni – shame we had never met this legend.
To give you another example of this mentality, Michele placed his train ticket in the turnstile and some guy walked through with him using Michele’s ticket. Michele is fiercely Northern Italian in attitude and the two exchanged heated words about the merits of the “user pays system” verses the “Neapolitan mode”. Leon was the next example – when Michele said that Leon was 5, the ticket bloke at the station said NO, how old are you boy? Leon held up 5 fingers and the bloke pushed down one of his fingers.
Next stop – Roma – stay tuned.
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