Walk, run, crawl

It didn’t take me long to get into the city. Some people take a wait and see attitude, where they want to get their affairs in order, get permission, or check into their hotel room at least before venturing out. I had the opportunity to go straight from the airport to an Italian pizzeria, start meeting people and walking the streets of Naples.

Since then the Navy has given me the opportunity to crawl, but the only crawling Paul has let me do is a pub crawl Friday night called Paulapalooza—his farewell party. He’s been walking me through the intricacies of Vomero (Piazza Vienvitelli. I’ll take you there sometime) and life and work out here.

I take off at a run when I borrow Grant’s car Sunday and try my hand at driving (see previous post). I am surprised at the ease with which I slip into the Naples-mode I’d observed from the passenger seat. It’s almost natural. There are few rules, so as long as you’re following those you’re fine, right? Probably not, but I’m fine this fine Sunday.

Garmin in hand, destination plugged in and the metallic British voice telling me to “please drive to highlighted route,” I set off into the morning sunshine. Just inside the Naples border, I get lost. Then I realize the British voice is mispronouncing all the street names so horribly I can understand none of it, not to mention the street signs are carved in stone high above normal eye level and largely grimed-over into illegibility.

At one point I find myself literally inside the gated port area, driving parallel to the road the Garmin wants me to be on. The policemen just wave me on, rolling their eyes at my hopeless Italian. Later I realize the street the British voice has taken me down is too narrow for the car, so I reverse out of it. The sunny sky is completely invisible here.

It becomes so comical I almost stop and try to program a way out of here. But when I pick up the device I notice the checkered flag on the screen—I’m just blocks away! Success! Way to go Garmin. Safe and sound and the car (not to mention Neapolitan pedestrians) unscathed.

Christ Church of Naples, the Anglican Church that is my destination this morning, hides between apartment buildings in the shade, so it was very cold inside. It seems too convenient to contrast the temperature with the warm and friendly souls attending, so I’ll just segue into saying how impressed and grateful I am by the welcome they gave me. I was immediately an old friend among the British expats and students, all of whom know and love Pat and Ashley, my friends and the reason I came.

The vicar mentioned a ceremony he was attending that night at the Naples cathedral, where he would sign a document along with Catholic priests and bishops from around the region admonishing and teaching us to work for unity in the church. How fitting that he mention this in this building, which has been in continual use since Girabaldi, the man who unified Italy in the 19th century, had it built against the wishes of the Catholic church to meet the needs of Anglicans in Naples. Unity. Still a foreign concept to just about all of us. “Let them be one,” Jesus prayed, “as You and I are One.”

The waterfront rings with the laughter of friends new and old as we stroll the market after church.

Well today is a crawl day. I take the bus with forty other newbies to the NATO base, where we split into two groups and walk to the train station (we’ll be able to park our car here for future trips into the city—free and secure). Our tour guide spends several minutes explaining what an all-day pass for the Naples public transportation is. A giornaliero.

Our group walks through the streets, gawking like tourists and taking pictures. I’m a tourist today, so I take some too. Down via Toledo, named by the conquering Spanish and renamed (unsuccessfully) via Roma this past century. We pause for a caffe in Galeria Umberto, and we scatter to wander for an hour. Piazza Plebescito, by the Royal Palace. I imagine the enormous square full of peasants turning out to see the king, or to protest. The place is strangely quiet in the midst of this roiling city.

I glimpse the sea. Leaving the piazza I see a garden and a street running along the water. It looks so familiar… Oh! I know why! I drove on that street yesterday.

Bring it, Naples. I’m settling into a comfortable jog. It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon.