Strongly Worded

"Low Lights" of the Italy Trip

"Low Lights" of the Italy Trip:

1) Naples
When I told Giovanna I was going to Naples, she half-smiled and said “have fun.” I only now realize how deeply ironic that comment was.

First, we stood on the train platform waiting for the train to Naples. Despite the assurance from the guy selling tickets, no train arrived at the platform at the pre-determined hour. We looked on the departures board and found the the word SOPRESSO. We speculated about whether that meant express.

We waited a while longer, then asked a fellow passenger. Turns out SOPRESSO means cancelled. Train employees were on strike. At the ticket counter, we were redirected to an incredibly crowded double-decker bus, where we sat for two hours squeezed between three American backpackers and a Thai monk.

When we arrived at the Naples train station, I got off between the backpackers and the monk, after which the bus door slammed shut with my mother behind it.

I stood in front of the Naples train station with no idea where she was going. Genoa? Florence? Several random men asked me if I needed a taxi. Another, in a not-entirely-wholesome tone, asked me where I was going. I’m waiting for my mother, I told him in Spanish (which I once thought would be the next best thing to speaking Italian, but in fact is only marginally better than speaking English--it’s a big myth that the languages are so similar that foreigners can use them interchangeably).

What the hell was I supposed to do now? Should I wait where I was? Try to get wherever that bus was going? Try to meet her at the Santa Chiara cloister where we had planned to go first? Leave a message at the hotel? What if she didn’t show up? Should I hang out in Naples by myself? Head back to Salerno? What about SOPRESSO? I realized I had no map, no directions, and no way of getting anywhere.

I stayed put, and luckily my mom appeared minutes later (the next busstop was close by).

OK. Reunification acheived. Let me now describe Naples. It’s like the ninth ring of hell (is that the expression?). Neopolitans clearly interpret stop signs and traffic lights as recommendations. Swarms of vehicles--buses, scooters, taxis, trucks--all hurtle across the roads--clearly the whole lane concept is also just optional. It is also extemely loud, and polluted, and dirty (graffiti, litter, the whole bit). During our day, we observe not one but two demonstrations of labor unrest.

In the first fifteen minutes, I've decided that I hate Naples. But of course we will forge ahead and see if the city charms us after all. Even Fodor's guide book says that "the charm of Naples doesn't reveal itself until the third or fourth day of the visit. Visitors to Naples should have, at all times, a sense of humor, a detailed map, and a careful eye on their pocketbook."

To summarize: we spent four hours in Naples trying to find the fucking Chiara cloister. No joke. We wandered around, and asked at least ten people for directions, all of whom were very kind and very animated but very wrong. When we finally got there, exhausted and crabby, all we found was a pretty tiled courtyard, a wicked boring museum about the history of the cloister and all the fascinating ruins beneath it, and a sign over the cloister door that said CHIUSO. Which means closed. We took a taxi back to the train station and hightailed it out of Naples.

2) The National Musuem of Pasta Foods
On our extra day in Rome (caused by our cancelled flight), it rained. Thus, we could not execute our outdoor-travel plans. So instead my mother and I each paid 10 Euros (total of about $26) to visit the National Museum of Pasta Foods.

<>May I quote from the brochure: "the rooms of the musuem contain an exhibition prepared with loving care, a wealth of historical riches, comprising machinery, parts of machines, documentation, which all contribute to create an atmosphere that is anything but cold and tedious; on the contrary, this cultural laboratory provides a framework which presents the evolution of pasta from the economic and cultural points of view ... The more innovative and demanding objectives of the Museum are to make a contribution towards solving, or at least alleviating, the still unsolved problem of denutrition in the world, by extending the culture of pasta: this precious national dish ... pasta as the "national" food of the whole world."

You can probably already surmise that this museum was incredibly cold and tedious. Not to mention imperialist. Eleven rooms of machinery, parts of machines, documentation, and tacky art showing people eating pasta. AND there was a slow, painful audio-guide: "on your left, you will see a collection of photographs showing people eating pasta. On your right, an abstract painting by such-and-such Italian artist. The section at the top represents industrialized countries, where food and pasta are plentiful. The section at the bottom represents developing countries, where malnutrition persists. The noodle joining the two realms represents the key role pasta plays in addressing world hunger."

I know you want more! Visit the museum's website.

Posted by Dori at 6:13 AM