If reincarnation were really, surely at least one of my past lives would have been lived out under the blistering Neapolitan sun. Naples has been one of my happy places since my first visit at 20. It is frenetic and filthy and often dangerous and I love every part of it. I'm not certain what it says about me that I thrive in chaos.
At least, I think I thrive in chaos.
In that spirit, I kicked off my trip not in the reasonable starting cities of Milan or Rome, but instead my beloved Napoli. It meant an extra layover (hence, Madrid!), and a whole layer of complication to meet up with my parents in Umbria. I arrived at 23:00 and was scheduled for the 13:00 train for Roma Termini; in my mind, this was clearly a sufficient amount of time to wander my favorite streets and stop for a meal at the oh-so-touristy but equally delicious Antica Pizzeria da Michele.
So I thought.
I woke up late with a headache to boot and didn't get out the door until 10. Naturally, the street I thought I wanted to take (and found without map nor problem) wasn't the street I actually needed to take, which lead to me furiously power-walking down Spaccannapoli muttering "shcusate" in my best imitation of dialetto and arriving at the restaurant (where a line was already assembled) at five to 11.
My saving grace? Solo travel! The place is always so crowded that you get a ticket on arrival and wait until your number is called. It can be hours if you time things badly. The man giving out the tickets was asking how many were in each group and I hollered out, "una!" when he came to me. "Are you alone?" he asked. "Si, sono da sola - I am alone!" I responded back in Italian, hoping that would help my case. Lo and behold, I was not only seated, but got the first pizza coming out of the oven. I left twenty minutes later, full as an egg and inordinately pleased with myself.
The other complication of the morning was the fact that while I had brought along the DSR and an extra lens and planned my shooting around the direction of the sun, I had forgotten to replace the memory card. There's nothing like lugging a heavy bag of effectively useless camera gear to pay penance for your stupidity. And so, instead of rim-lit portraits of Napolitani going about their mornings, iPhone shots. So it goes.
