Beside the Seaside

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In Which I See Naples And Don't Die

May 28, 2008 by Mike

Naples

Route: Circeo - Mondragone - Naples

Sperlonga lies at the other end of the Circeo beach. There's a hill here too, with a view back down along the beach and to the old town of Circeo with the acropolis on the hill.

I was here on my first trip to Italy -- 1983 -- because my brother's ex had been here years before when she was an au pair for a family in Rome. Tenuous link. Lots of Romans came here on holiday, and I figred they probably kept the best bits for themselves and sent the foreign tourists elsewhere. I remember nothing about it. Thank gawd I'm writing it all this down this time.

Circeo is about halfway between Rome and Naples. Most of the summer's tourists come from Rome, over 50% I was told. They're following in big footsteps because the Emperor Tiberius had a villa close to modern-day Sperlonga. It's well worth stopping to see - not just the remains of the vast building and the painstaking recreation of monumental sculptures, but to see the grotto next to which the villa was built. Cool and deep over deep, cool, blue water.

It captured an Emperor's heart. You can see why.

There's not much to see on the coast south of Sperlonga. It became, not a chore -- it's never a chore -- but less of a voyage of wonder. I had a destination. I plough on to Naples, my heart in my mouth. Twenty-five years ago I saw the worst driving I'd ever seen in Naples. I can still taste the surprise in my mouth that I'd made it alive across a couple of streets.. and here I am about to ride in on a motorbike.

(Since my first visit, I've been lucky enough to ride motorbikes in India, briefly, in Russia and Poland on this trip, and in Argentina, which I was told -- and believe -- has the highest death-rate on the roads of any country. There are a lot of Italians in Argentina.)

There are many more Italians in Naples.

Oh. My. God.

There are no rules. I'll leave it at that because I know I've become a broken record about this. But the thing is, this is not a video game, it's real life. It could be my life. It's just not funny.

(And the roads are still terrible, too.)

The advantage of following the coast road is, you know you'll reach the centre of any seaside town or city eventually. In this case, eventually means after passing the centre two or three times -- going south, then turning (with difficulty) and heading north. missing the turning again.. turning.. and.. bingo.

I still found time to forget where I was and have a long chat with the rider and pillion of a local Bonneville who were going in the same direction. Once they realised why I'd said Buongiorno (badly) they were very friendly and helpful with directions: we'd talk, the lights would change (or, to be precise, when everyone assumed the lights were about to change) and we'd race off, all very Mad Max, as far as the next gridlock, stop, find each other, and resume our conversation.

But I made it in the end and, lucky break, spotted signs to the Hostel Bella Capri. The campsites are miles out of town, this is so close to the centre that I can hear the traffic on the Via Acton from the room I'm sharing with seven other people -- men and women.

(You know the Via Acton must be central and important because it's named after my good friend Johnny's great-great-great-great-grandfather, who was the Prime Minister of Naples.. when Naples was a country. So now you know.)

The hostel staff are friendly, helpful and happy to provide the five-cent coin needed to ride the lift down from the sixth floor to the ground. Which, when you're still in biking gear and it's 35 degrees in the shade, is no bad thing.
--

How many people does it take to sell me a soft drink?

The man in the kiosk who asks me what I want. The man at he back of the kiosk who fishes the IceTea Limone out of the fridge. The man at the side of the kiosk who takes my money and gives me my change.

Beside the Seaside

In Which I See Naples And Don't Die

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