Remember the back streets of Naples. We did see children begging, not in the rags of Peter Sarstedt's song, but accompanied by adult women (mothers maybe but not for sure) in seriously smelly clothes, in a cafe near those back streets.
But that is not how Naples should be remembered. An electronic acquaintance had said "go there" during a long weekend on the Sorrentine Peninsula and he was right. It is a city to which, with more time to explore, I shall gladly return.
This was a trip that also took in the majestic scenery and obscenely overpriced businesses of Capri, the beauty of Amalfi and Positano and their coastlines and the quiet charm of Sorrento itself. I shall devote a separate posting to the charm-free, in my experience, island of Ischia, but Naples somehow sticks most firmly in the mind for the right reasons.
Walk around the narrow cobbled streets of the old town and soak up the atmosphere, my e-pal had said (as had friends in Nice). They rise from Via Toledo, itself offering a long and fascinating meander from the Galleria Umberto for those fond of shops, and are bustling with street life.
The Nicois friends had recommended the unpretentious little Trattoria da Nennella in one of those streets, Teatro Nuovo, suggesting we could eat like royalty for 20 euros, wine included. It's very noisy, with excitable waiters darting this way and that, and it can be crowded, with tables outside hard to get.
In fact, we had decided to eat lightly, and settled for shared plates of creamy pasta and potato, and spinach. It wasn't that good, to be honest, but I found myself looking on in envy at what was served to people opting for more substantial fare.
Consequently, we got nowhere near the 20 euro price guide. Our visit cost all of 10 and that included half a litre of acceptable red wine - it seemed as if we were at liberty to drink as much or as little of the whole bottle as we wished - and tokens for coffee on the way out past the long queue waiting for tables. Importantly, this was a long queue of obvious locals or those locally employed.
Capri was the opposite. A boat tour of the entire coastline was excellent with lively, amusing commentary and was reasonable value at €17 a head. Almost everything ashore seemed to scream "we're out to fleece you".
It started with morning coffee on arrival by fast Jetfoil from Sorrento. The jolly waiter who may also have been the owner presented a bill for €14 for one espresso, one Americano and a single croissant. Even when corrected to €11, this felt steep to say the least.
But not as steep as the trek into town. It is best to take the funicular and that is an exception to the overpricing, at only €1.80 a head. Boldly, we walked up, refusing to count the steps. At the top are little streets of designer shops jostling for the tourist euro. A very ordinary lunch, risotto and spaghetti alle vongole with a (large) glass of wine each and coffee, knocked us back €92 by the time they had added cover and service charges.
There is a happy medium to be found between brash, value-for-money old Napoli and the excesses of Capri. After driving along the sensational Amalfi corniche, we stopped in the town and had a tasty mixed salad and good pizza, again with a glass of wine each, at a beachside cafe for €23. The young waiter was suitably impressed by my command of Italian, responding to my catchphrase of Vito Mannone, Fabio Borini, Emanuele Giaccherini with a broad grin and "you must be a Sunderland supporter". How on earth did he guess?
Better still was Positano. There may be more magnificent locations from which to have dinner than Il Capitano, part of the Montemare hotel high above the town with a fabulous terrace overlooking it, but I have yet to experience them.
The meal was superior in content and substance to the one we took on Capri and came to no more than €63 - and that included the coffees we'd had when stopping to book a table much earlier in the day but which they'd insisted on waiting for our return to be paid for. They'd kept the best table on the terrace for us, service was superb and the food divine.
Ischia will just have to wait. I need to be careful about what I say. For the rest, be assured my first visit to this beautiful corner of Italy will not be my last.
But I shall leave you for now with a photograph of the ruins of Pompeii, with the cuplrit, Vesuvius, in the background. Just a pile of old stones, said Mme Nicoise. I beg to differ.
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