Day One in Italy

Greetings from Naples, dear readers!

Older Daughter and I landed in this venerable city after about 24 hours of travel. It took five hours to reach the airport (and where we hung out for about three more hours because we wanted to give ourselves leeway in case of car trouble, etc.). Then came the first leg of our trip, Spokane to Denver.

Approaching Denver.

The leg from Denver to Munich was conducted on one of the largest airplanes I’ve been on, with two aisles and nine seats across. Younger Daughter, bless her, had booked us near the back of the plane where there were just two seats (aisle and window), with a spacious gap between the window seat and the side of the plane where we could stash our carry-on things. Ten hours in the air was tiring, but an advantage of being short is I could also stand up straight in this small space and uncramp my limbs. (Older Daughter, who had the aisle seat, took a turn or two up and down the aisle for the same reason.)

I didn’t take any photos in or from the plane itself because the windows had a weird tinting ability out of our control that didn’t permit us to see outside. Presumably this was done to help passengers try to sleep overnight. The only photos I got were of the back-of-the-seat air tracking screens that allowed us to gauge our progress.

The windows untinted just as we were about to land in Munich, but the conditions were so foggy that I couldn’t get any photos.

The leg from Munich to Naples was slightly better. We passed over the muscular Alps in northern Italy that must have been wildly dramatic from the ground.

Here’s a glimpse of some charmingly chaotic Neapolitan suburbs, very different from the precise and orderly cookie-cutter American suburbs.

Younger Daughter met us at the airport without any issues, and as you can imagine it was wonderful to reunite with her.

She drove us from the airport toward her apartment through what could only be described as mobile hysteria. It was past rush hour (a good thing), but the road rules were some of the most casual and free-flowing I’ve ever seen. Honestly, Younger Daughter had nerves of steel to navigate the chaos, but navigate it she did, and successfully too. She said it took her months of white-knuckling it to get used to driving in Naples traffic.

We were all starving, so we went straight out to dinner before heading for YD’s apartment. On a small deck, I was charmed to see a gecko, emerging for a night of foraging.

After showering of the dirt of two continents (to paraphrase Bill Bryson), Older Daughter and I crashed, exhausted.

This morning we woke up and got a better view of YD’s apartment. The sloped beamed ceilings “make” the place.

And look at this kitchen window!

Her apartment overlooked a small garden where she said the landlord grows fresh veggies and herbs in season.

Here I was amused to see (and hear) a population of ring-necked doves exactly as we have in vast quantities at home.

Heading out into the city, we were able to get a more accurate impression of Naples. We walked to a little cafe for coffee/tea and pastries, and Older Daughter and I were laughing at the parking habits of Italian drivers – double parking, parking on sidewalks, parking every-which-way. Honestly it was part of the fun. Naples is shabby and run down in a cheerful “who cares?” sort of way, with chipped plaster and litter everywhere. There are hundreds – thousands – of tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurants tucked in the oddest corners, all apparently thriving. It’s no wonder the city has an amazing culinary reputation.

After the cafe, we walked to see some Roman ruins, just casually fenced off right in town.

The fact that the brick work has held up so splendidly for thousands of years is a testimony to the skills of Roman craftsmen.

Just makes you want to explore, doesn’t it?

We walked to the edge of Lago Patria, where of course I had to photograph … a snail.

The juxtaposition of old and new fascinated me.

And hey, what’s Naples without a little activist graffiti?

We swung through a surprisingly well-stocked thrift store, and I thought these little mosaic-style tea cups were splendid. (No, I didn’t buy them.)

Younger Daughter says she’s always been fascinated by this abandoned hotel. Apparently there are a fair number of abandoned properties in the area.

Then we took off for our first touristy adventure, heading for the city of Caserta. In this manner we were able to see just how many tiny farms were interspersed with urban infrastructure, which I thought was the coolest thing.

We passed a modest onramp and saw a not-very-young woman sitting on a lawn chair by the side of the road. “See that woman?” said Younger Daughter, pointing. “That’s a prostitute.”

She wasn’t the only one. We saw a couple of other women similarly stationed at intersections. None of them were spring chickens. “Tough way to make a living in your golden years,” I noted. It was a sad sight.

Along the way, we saw incredible amounts of trash on the sides of all the roads (ironically, the vehicle on the left in the photo was a garbage truck).

While clearly the trash was ugly, in a weird sort of way it was kinda genuine, too, if you know what I mean. This wasn’t some tourist-perfect spot; this was real Italian life and somehow symbolic of the chaotic joie de vivre for which the Italians are known.

Our destination was La Reggia di Caserta (the Royal Palace of Caserta), the biggest royal chateau in Europe outside of Versailles, and THE biggest royal grounds/park in Europe (bigger than Versaille). Here’s the first glimpse of the building.

Parking, as you can imagine, was a challenge. After some searching, Younger Daughter was able to shoehorn her little car into a tight spot about a half-mile from the chateau. This was actually rather nice, because we could walk along the street and see some of the shops and people.

The narrow streets were a nightmare to navigate (kudos to Younger Daughter’s driving skills!) but enchanting to view from the passenger seat.

This section of town had marble sidewalks. Let me repeat that. It had Marble. Sidewalks.

It’s worth noting that while marble sidewalks would not only be prohibitively expensive but also wildly pretentious in America, here in Italy it’s just the native stone.

Caserta is a bit more upscale than Naples proper and had a beautiful European flair to it.

As we drew near to the chateau, the sheer scale of it started to make an impression. Everything – everything! – about it was oversized.

Here’s some random dude for scale. This would make these entrances, what, maybe 36 feet high?

This is a photo of a photo placed on the wall inside the chateau where we bought our tickets. It shows some of the extent of the palace grounds. The distant building is the palace itself.

From inside one of the arched colonnades, we could see the grounds stretching at least a mile distant, terminating in the white thingy on the hill at the very end. (The white thingy is, I believe, part of a fountain complex).

As Younger Daughter put it, it’s ostentatious nature of royal structures and grounds such as these that caused the peasants to revolt in earlier times.

Then we walked into the chateau itself, and our jaws dropped. It. Was. Stunning.

The sheer scale and degree of ornateness is hard to grasp, even when standing right among it. 

We were ascending the appropriately named Royal Staircase. As far as first impressions go for dignitaries visiting the kings of Naples, it was a doozy.

The palace is frequently used for films, and I believe these stairs were featured in “Star Wars: The Phantom Menace,” specifically as the interior of the Theed City Naboo Palace (according to Wikipedia).

In fact, the people you see on the stairs were workmen carrying film cameras up for yet another movie.

This is the chapel. Modest little place. Oddly, they used acrylic chairs instead of pews.

Several of the columns bore damage from bombing during World War II.

We walked through the palace, agog at the magnificence, until we almost got to the point of ornate overload. Room after room after room after room after room was open to the public (with various things roped off). There was just so much to see, and all of it incredible, that we almost became numb to all the glory.

I mean, look at this!

Ceiling detail.

The king’s throne. As thrones go, this seems rather modest and fairly comfortable.

Take a look at this gilded beauty.

The king’s bed. Or at least one of them.

Topped with a crown, of course.

We did notice the occasional royal loo, tucked discretely in dark corners.

Notice the high windows in this chamber.

They’re all trompe l’oeil (“A style of painting that is intended to give a convincing illusion of reality”).

There were a few rooms featuring the royal library, but I gather most of the valuable tomes were looted during World War II, so most of these are fairly ordinary (though older) volumes.

One of the most fascinating rooms was the darkened Nativity room with a marvelous night-time celestial ceiling and displays of biblical-themed characters (with a decided Neapolitan touch – we noticed some figurines were eating plates of spaghetti, and the Holy Family looked suspiciously Italian). Naples is famous for its “Christmas Street” where they sell astoundingly detailed Nativity sets. Based on what appeared in this palace, the tradition dates back at least two centuries.

Here are some examples of what they had on display:

Continuing on our tour, we passed two art historians involved in some restoration work. Younger Daughter, far more versed in art than we are, was able to describe something of what they were doing. She was impressed their work was open to the public.

Sated with indoor sights, we retired outside for a stroll through some of the grounds.

Here’s a back view of the palace. Remember, those lower archways are something on the order of 36 feet high. This building is HUGE.

We took a side path through some forested areas…

…that led us past a children’s playhouse called Castelluccia built “for the young princes of Bourbon.” Naturally it had three stories, its own moat, and a turret, because of course it did.

Wandering back toward the main walkway, we saw huge statuary ensconced in shrubbery niches.

I suspect we could have spent the whole rest of the day in La Reggia di Caserta, but we’d already walked several miles by this point and were ready for some lunch, so we left the palace grounds…

…stopped at a cafe for some food, then returned to the car. Driving back to Naples, we passed this shanty town of shacks that Younger Daughter said was home to a Romani (gypsy) population. Apparently they settle in a spot for a few years until government officials come in, bulldoze the ramshackle homes, and the Romani move elsewhere and settle in a new spot. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

We retired to Younger Daughter’s apartment for a couple hours’ rest, then met up with a friend of hers who took us to Pozzuoli, right on the coast. Apparently this used to be the Las Vegas of Rome, a place for the elites to go for grand parties and beautiful scenery, until the volcanic unheavals of the place submerged whole towns. (Pozzuoli sits right on top of a super-volcano. No exaggeration.)

Here, too, some Roman ruins were preserved in the center of the city. A couple thousand years in the past, the three tall pillars were completely submerged in the bay by subsiding ground, then reemerged hundreds of years later as the ground rose. Ah, volcanoes.

Apparently archeologists initially thought this area was a temple, but it turned out to be a high-end marketplace.

We decided it would be splendid to live in one of these apartments overlooking the ruins. Y’know, until another volcanic explosion happened.

We wandered the picturesque downtown as dusk transitioned into dark. The tide was out on the bay.

By the way, the bay is a deepwater bay suitable for large ships, because it’s the submerged caldera. Nice.

Waiting for the dinner hour (7 pm at the earliest), we explored the vicinity. We wanted to peek into this lovely church…

…but a Mass was being held, so we didn’t disturb the worshipers. It was nice to see it occupied for its intended purpose on a weekday evening. We also noticed a highlighted statue of the Virgin Mary a short distance away.

This square was closed to traffic, and many locals were out enjoying the mild evening air, many with their dogs.

We all stopped for a “piccolo” (tiny) gelato, because of course we couldn’t go to Italy without trying a gelato.

Every alleyway off this square was an enchanting vista, and each alley was stuffed with tiny specialty shops selling everything from meat to clothes and apparently thriving.

There was even laundry hanging out to dry overhead, proving this is just a regular living situation for the locals rather than some chi-chi tourist trap.

As we headed back to the car, I saw this huge sign advertising, I presume, language lessons.

Before heading for the restaurant, we stopped to view the harbor.

We also made a brief stop at a higher elevation to get a broader view of the city.

And that, dear readers, was our first day in Italy. Younger Daughter was worried we were overdoing it, but both Older Daughter and I agreed that since our time is limited, we should ignore any lingering fatigue and jet lag and just cram in as many sights as we can. We can sleep later.

That said, as I write this, it’s almost midnight local time, so it’s time for me to toddle to bed.

Source: http://www.rural-revolution.com/2026/03/day-one-in-italy.html