Our Trip Blog

The Events of Sunday, March 20, 2011

                Our third floor Rome apartment gets plenty of street noise. People talking, kids running, dogs barking, horns, sirens punctuated our sleep. But dawn brought quiet. I wonder, is it this quiet every Sunday? Or is today especially quiet because it is the day for the Rome Marathon? Regardless, we rejoiced in the hush of the empty street. We rose, breakfasted, packed, and drove off just before 9:30. Police directed traffic into a detour, presumably away from the marathoners. From there on, the drive to Naples was smooth and scenic, presenting little traffic and featuring a vista of snow-covered mountains. I noticed the distinctive umbrella pine trees, which were the subject of Respighi’s powerful symphonic poem Pini di Roma (“The Pines of Rome”). As we drove south, we remarked to one another how Rome was a pleasant surprise to us. Family and friends (and guide books) warned us of Rome’s rampant crime, aggressive beggars, pot-holed streets, and crazy drivers. We experienced none of these. (At first, I might have agreed about the “crazy driver” designation, but not any more: I observe that Rome drivers are skilled and precise; not always legal, but safe; aggressive, but quite sane.)

                Naples, on the other hand, appears to be just as bad as we heard Rome would be. Drivers and pedestrians pay no heed to lane lines, stop signs, or traffic signals. The roads are in terrible condition. (We saw one vehicle stopped because its front tire was stuck in a caved-in section of asphalt.) While waiting at a red light, a man cleaned our windshield, and then offered to sell us some facial tissue. When I told him “no thanks”, he swiped our windshield with his soapy squeegee and moved to another vehicle. As a driver, I found myself challenged, protective, and very, very alert. Yet in a way, I enjoyed the experience. It sharpens my skills and challenges me to be my best as a driver. Maybe it’s my male ego, but this experience is strangely satisfying.

                Even with both GPS units working, I still managed at least one wrong turn entering the downtown area. And our apartment is smack in the heart of the city, on a crowded one-way street. We found our apartment building, but did not find parking. So I took a long loop to the right and came for another pass. Still there was no parking, so we took a long loop to the left and came back. This time we did find parking (not legal, but OK for a few minutes) just fifty feet from the front door. As I walked toward the apartment, two men greeted me, asking if I was Jim. They were Lucca and Gianluca, our landlord team. (From our brief time in the Internet café yesterday, we learned that our apartment in Naples was not quite ready for us. In broken English, the landlord had written that the kitchen was not complete, but that we could still use the apartment― for free. That sounded fine to us, we replied, we could survive without a kitchen, and we would stay there anyway.) They offered to help with the luggage, but I said I’d like to look at the apartment first.

                What an unusual apartment this is! The entrance is on the third floor, and on that level there is a full bathroom and a multi-function room with dining table and chairs, sofa, TV, and kitchen area with a fridge, stovetop, and microwave. (The kitchen cabinetry was incomplete and there was no oven, but for a place that reportedly had no kitchen, it was well-equipped.) Upstairs are two more bedrooms and another full bathroom. Strangely, some of the windows from downstairs are visible also from upstairs—as if this used to be one very tall floor, and they have divided it into two. Most of this new dividing level is wood flooring, but there are also four panels of clear glass, about 30 inches wide and 60 inches long, in the floor of the upstairs landing and bedrooms! So we can look down through the floor of the upstairs bedrooms to the dining room, kitchen and sofabed downstairs. I wonder why they would install these “floor windows”. I can’t think of any practical reason for it, so perhaps it is just to express their interior design creativity and provide unique accommodations.

                Lucca and Gianluca proudly led us on a tour of the apartment, pointing out its new features: new furniture, new sheets, new TV, new dishes, new bathroom fixtures, new flooring, etc. They had thoughtfully stocked the refrigerator and pantry with staples. Also, there was a covered platter of fresh bakery desserts on the table. So they tried to make things feel home-like and hospitable. However, it is difficult to ignore the smell of new paint and the sight of TV cables hanging out of bedroom walls. We are their first guests, we learned, and this is their first rental property.

                Looking out the window, Gianluca saw a good (legal) parking place for us, so he and I went downstairs. He attempted to direct traffic while I backed down the street 100 feet to our new parking spot.  Then he and Lucca helped us bring up our luggage and answered our questions. As we finished up, they asked for payment. Not entirely surprised, I said that their email message said it would be free since there was no kitchen. They replied that now there was a kitchen, so we should pay. I countered that it was not complete, and that therefore we should not have to pay the complete amount. They agreed and asked for €200 for our three nights (instead of the original €250). I countered with an offer of €150, which they accepted. With cash in hand, they departed and left us to unpack.

                We ate a simple lunch of bread, cheese, salami, and fruit. For dessert, we sampled the platter of baked goods from our landlord-hosts. There were six pieces: three were crusty pastries with cream filling, and the other three were soft cone-shaped cakes. I halved them so we could have a taste of each one. Pam sampled one of these cone-cakes with the smallest of nibbles, and then she rushed to the sink and spat it out. It was saturated with liqueur, and one by one, all the cone-cakes ended up on my plate. (Later we learned they are called babà, and the liqueur is rum.) No problem for me! I will enjoy them for the next few days.

                Then we grabbed our laptop and departed for the nearby Naval Base at Gicignano. There we met up with the Amsberry family, whom we know from San Francisco. Jim is a Captain in the Navy and serves as a surgeon in the naval hospital in Gicignano. He, Eileen, and their three kids (Brennan, Maris, and Kieran) are delighted to have the opportunity to live in Italy for two years. But after eight months, we are their first visitors from the states, and they welcomed us warmly. And on our part, after several days with no WiFi or laundry, we were glad for the invitation to use theirs. Pam and I enjoyed the adult conversation in English. Then Eileen and the kids made some special recipe chocolate chip cookies (i.e., Maris accidentally doubled the amount of sugar). Next, the Amsberry kids escorted Ben and Abby to the park, where they played soccer, wrestled, explored the playground equipment, and played off-ground tag. (As they explained it, the person who is “it” can be on the ground or off — climbing on the playground equipment  but everyone else should stay off the ground, and if “it” tags anyone or sees anyone on the ground, that person is “it”.)

                Meanwhile, I experienced reverse culture shock. Jim took me to the Navy Exchange (“NEX”) which houses a supermarket that they call a “commissary”. There I found American foods like Cheerios, cheddar cheese, ranch dressing, and skim milk! The prices were in dollars (quite reasonable, too), and the clerks spoke English. This was all so different, yet so familiar—what a weird experience!

                We returned and began the dinner-preparation process. Before long, we sat down to a delicious dinner of grilled sirloin steak, mashed potatoes, and sautéed bell peppers and zucchini, with a glass of Merlot. And for dessert, vanilla ice cream with chocolate chip (special recipe) cookies. How deliciously American!