Naples with Bee, one last time

There is a bit of a tease going on in this place. We check meticulously the hourly weather prognosis for Naples. Last night, the word "rain" was only occasionally replaced by "showers." Showers, rain -- take your pick, both sound wet to me. And thus the verdict is clear -- the storm system has rolled in some pretty saturated clouds and they are going to do their work, dumping mounds of water on us all day long. Again.

And yet, this early morning looks deceptively pleasant! As if everything had changed course. Breaks in the clouds, no umbrellas in sight. 

But it's all a big laugh, to show us what could have been! You want to see Naples in better weather? Here, take a look! Ha, but today? Oh, that's something quite different.

So Bee and I linger over breakfast. She takes off tonight, so every moment is more precious. Leave no detail behind. Yes, there will be Zooms, but sitting at the same table is so much better!

And now the wind picks up, big dark clouds really take charge. As we get ready to head out the door, there is a cloudburst - not of rain, but sleet and hail. Suddenly, Neapolitan streets are littered with bits of ice. Well now, that's unusual! But this is our reality. All day, the wind will blow in dark clouds, big blobs of rain or sleet will come down and then the clouds will move on. Until the next one. Freaky weather! But, you could also say that the colors are extra sharp and the cloudbursts never last too long. Our umbrellas get a real workout out, buffeted that they are by a ferocious slapping and pulling in every direction.

We made plans to do some indoor stuff, starting with a tour of the Real Teatro di San Carlo.  Built in 1737, it is apparently stunning. In operation since before La Scala, before La Fenicie, it is in fact the oldest opera house in Europe. As we get ready to plunk down our money for the visit, we are given an "oh by the way." As in -- oh, by the way, you can only see the scaffolding and the ceiling restoration. The rest is closed for renovation. Well no thank you! We want to see this:

Not just frescoes on a ceiling in a state of disrepair.

Never mind, we have a plan B: the Royal Palace in Naples.

The Palace is huge and it is right next to the theater, which is a good thing because, well, the weather sucks.

Here is one highlight -- a staircase so grand that you feel you're underdressed using its splendid slabs of marble. Some have called it the grandest stairwell in all of Europe (Photo curtesy of Bee).

Thirty-eight rooms are open to the public. I tell Bee we will be done in half an hour -- that's how quickly I usually walk through such opulent structures (except in touristy places that are so crowded that I have to elbow my way from room to room before I can get to the end). 

The Royal Palace of Naples is not crowded. At all. Indeed, there's almost no one in this cavernous, gilded space. Bee thinks it looks sad and a little neglected. I would not disagree. It's as if the party had moved on and now here you are alone, abandoned, with uncomfortable chairs, lots of mirrors and highly decorated ceilings. Take a look:

(Perhaps the most interesting piece of furniture: a gizmo for a person who wants to read several books at the same time! An early version of a kindle!)

In one of the rooms (possibly the ballroom), we find a cushioned chair and we sit down and stay for more than half an hour, just to talk.

Ha! We missed a window of decent weather. By the time we are out again, the rain is... pronounced. 

We go to a nearby coffee shop. Despairing at the difficulty of finding decent sit-down cafes here, I looked up the possibilities and discovered Gran Caffe Gambrinus ("Gambrinus" is a legendary, somewhat inebriated character who seems always to be happy). This place has been here since the 19th century and it's not surprising that such famed souls as Wilde, Hemingway, Zola and Sartre liked to hang out here.  You have to fall in love with a place that sells these:

We sit at a table at the window and indulge, arguing over whether the berries on my cake are (the world acc. to Bee) strawberry, or (the world acc. to me) fraises de bois. In the end, Bee acquiesces.

(the waiters are oblivious to our search for The Truth)

And now we set out along the Via Chiaia -- a sweet little shopping street just behind the cafe. Nothing tempts us, but still, the drizzle is light, our moods are great. (All that sugar!)

And we have carried ourselves right toward the tail end of the lunch window. It's now or never! We head toward Impasto 55, a well recommended pizza place in our neighborhood. It's open still, and again we get a window seat, and again that's just begging for us to talk way past the hour of the meal.

What did we eat?

Fried stuffed zucchini flowers...

... And pizzas: margherita for Bee and the Impasto 55 for me (in addition to small Vesuvius tomatoes and the wonderful cheese, it has squirts of pesto sauce).

And for dessert? Oh, let me remind you -- we ate that before lunch! Just like they traditionally do in coastal Poland: cake before protein!

Feeling more energetic, we set out for a walk along the coast. 

Never mind.

We turn back.

The wind is just too fierce. Even when the rain lets up, the slaps on the face are such that you want to run away and hide.

We spend our last hours together in the hotel room, this time mine, continuing our never-ending conversation, and the minute she leaves, I remember all that I meant to ask her, but it will have to wait, and perhaps that's a good thing, because it is always so fine to reconnect and restart where we left off. I'm okay with Zoom, really I am. Sigh...

Thank you, Bee, for coming to Naples, despite the absurdity of it all! It was grand to have this adventure here with you and I miss you already!

(Sunset? Honestly? You devilish weather, you!)

In the later evening I cannot decide if a walk is warranted.

(If I were to write a child's book about monsters, I might use this photo to illustrate it; out my balcony window!)

One side of me says. -- go! It's your last evening in Naples! The other? Over my dead body! I'm not going out in that crazy weather!

The second side wins.

But by 8, I realize that the afternoon pizza doesn't really have staying power. I tell myself -- well, there's a restaurant in the hotel, people appear to like it, I can go there and order just a soup, right?

I don't order just a soup. In fact, I order no soup at all. I want warm and comfy food and don't you think that wild mushroom risotto is about as warm and comfy as they get? With a salad to make me feel healthy. And a Negroni, because this is the last night in Italy and tomorrow's flights are long and hard and so I deserve it.

I could have stopped there. But no. I have been seeing babas au rum in all the pastry shops, and I finally google a question that is something like this "hey, isn't baba au rum French? Why am I seeing them everywhere in Naples?" The answer is yes to both: it's French, imported there from Poland (!) and then exported from there to Naples. Not Italy, but exactly, specifically and only to Naples. Well now, this just makes it absolutely necessary to end my Neapolitan eating with this awesome ciastko (Polish for small cake).

Oh my dear Ed! You do not know what you are missing!

Tomorrow, full of thoughts, insights, nostalgic memories, food, ideas, and yes, excitement, because of all that's there waiting for me -- I fly home.

With so much love.