As we continued our traverse of Naple's grand metropolis, it became ever more evident that austerity was giving way to affluence. In the city's lower tier, the signs of poverty were prevalent. The aforementioned refuse was plain for the eye to see. A trail of rudimentary graffiti emblazoned almost every office and shop. The narrow winding streets also betrayed a medieval origin. There was little sign that the modern age had brought modern amenities.
Our bus began to climb a steep, spiralling elevation. Suddenly the dreary and fetid landscape was replaced by something far more utopian. The waste completely disappeared. No doubt the higher eschaleons of society included the mafia, who as previously mentioned were charged with waste disposal. Whilst they did the bare minimum and pocketed the monies allocated for the duty, they were loathe to have any rubbish in their own backyard. Double standards are alive and well in Italy.
One particularly noteworthy location was a residence of the dowager queen Margerita. The eponymous pizza was dedicated to her and is a composite of Italy's tricolour - red (tomatoes), green (basil), white (mozzarella). A little distance away, we encountered the Castel dell'Ovo - the castle of the egg - another tangible manifestation of Italy's preoccupation with food. Legend has it that the Roman poet Virgil buried an egg on the site of the castle. If the egg is ever broken, then both the castle and Naples will fall. Where do they concoct such ideas? Strange but true.
Eventually, we reached our intended goal the summit. Once again, Luisa's machinations did not disappoint us. Yet another breathtaking panorama lay in store:
And let us not forget the millionaire's playground:
Unsurprisingly, Naples' plateau has emerged as the perfect locale for suitors to get down on a bended knee. On surrounding paving stones, betrothed couples have left testimony to their eternal love. One par amour writes boldly albeit concisely: " John + Cindy - 12/04/96". Etched in indelible ink, tourists of past and present can review this parade of romance.
Although it was October, the weather was unseasonally warm. The sun (sol invictus) ruled supreme in the skies; its rays easily penetrated the grey wafer thin clouds. Under such circumstances, the groups occidental dispensation took root. We began to thirst. Fortunately, a kiosk was a mere stones through away. The elderly Italian purveyor was soon parading a smile as we procured beverages at over inflated clip-joint prices.
As we returned to our bus, we spied a plethora of private roads. They boasted immaculate asphalt and ran adjacent to palatial mansions. This was how the other half lived. The cream literally does rise to the top. I made a mental note of the aesthetics. The propensity of verdant acreage contrasted markedly with the lower city. Fountains were commonplace and frivolously expelled water. Although a towering edifice was testimony to the vainglorious housing , one could imagine the opulent interiors - a five level abode entailing 15 bedrooms, 20 bathrooms and a swimming pool or two. Of course the house was vacant. The proprietor was abroad having flown south for the winter, or applying himself/herself in a business venture. In the case of the latter, the enterprise might represent a tax loss. Any potential setbacks would be rectified through gains in stocks, shares and interest. Money, for some at least, works while you sleep.
Having gone off at a tangent, I've now lost my train of thought. Ah, yes, what next in Naples. Our final destination was the Church of gesu nouvo (new jesus). The exterior facade was quite unusual:
Luisa informed us that the unusual design was due to a guild of masons in the employ of the Jesuits. What I thought was embossed stone was in fact a pyramid. Each individual brick was designed in this fashion and has a unique symbol. The task of constructing the church must have been an extremely laborious task. One can only imagine.
The interior consisted of a whole panoply of icons, sculptures and artwork:
Forgive the poor image. Flash photography was strictly forbidden in the church. Whilst ambling inside I encountered an embarrassing problem. As I tread the marble floor, my recently purchased Marks and Sparks shoes began to emit a rasping squeak. It was as though Alvin and the chipmunks had come to Naples! People viewing the various exhibits or confiding in the priests probably found it difficult to focus. I tried to move as gingerly as possible. I had decided that if anyone confronted me on the issue, I would simply claim that these were not my footwear but the voices of heavenly angels brought courtesy of Hanna Barbera!
In the immediate aftermath of my incursion on the church floor, we removed our selves to the square outside:
This is the spire of the immaculate virgin. It was constructed between 1747-50. While this was the most prominent article in the square, something else had caught my attention. Italian soldiers together with an armoured car were apparently on sentry duty. I asked Luisa why this was necessary. She explained that it was simply a programme to make civilians feel safe. Personally I felt that a more nefarious reason was at play. Naples is a seaport on the mediterranean and sits not too far from North Africa. In this day and age, it is unfortunate that terrorist elements are using southern Europe for transit. Let us not forget the fatal shooting at the Jewish Museum in Belgium a few months ago.
For the next quarter of an hour, I sat once more in a cafe, reviewing the days events. It had been a fascinating, albeit tiring experience. I had packed virtually the whole of Naples into an afternoon. Tomorrow I hoped to visit Herculaneum, the very basis for my trip.
Our bus began to climb a steep, spiralling elevation. Suddenly the dreary and fetid landscape was replaced by something far more utopian. The waste completely disappeared. No doubt the higher eschaleons of society included the mafia, who as previously mentioned were charged with waste disposal. Whilst they did the bare minimum and pocketed the monies allocated for the duty, they were loathe to have any rubbish in their own backyard. Double standards are alive and well in Italy.
One particularly noteworthy location was a residence of the dowager queen Margerita. The eponymous pizza was dedicated to her and is a composite of Italy's tricolour - red (tomatoes), green (basil), white (mozzarella). A little distance away, we encountered the Castel dell'Ovo - the castle of the egg - another tangible manifestation of Italy's preoccupation with food. Legend has it that the Roman poet Virgil buried an egg on the site of the castle. If the egg is ever broken, then both the castle and Naples will fall. Where do they concoct such ideas? Strange but true.
Eventually, we reached our intended goal the summit. Once again, Luisa's machinations did not disappoint us. Yet another breathtaking panorama lay in store:
And let us not forget the millionaire's playground:
Unsurprisingly, Naples' plateau has emerged as the perfect locale for suitors to get down on a bended knee. On surrounding paving stones, betrothed couples have left testimony to their eternal love. One par amour writes boldly albeit concisely: " John + Cindy - 12/04/96". Etched in indelible ink, tourists of past and present can review this parade of romance.
Although it was October, the weather was unseasonally warm. The sun (sol invictus) ruled supreme in the skies; its rays easily penetrated the grey wafer thin clouds. Under such circumstances, the groups occidental dispensation took root. We began to thirst. Fortunately, a kiosk was a mere stones through away. The elderly Italian purveyor was soon parading a smile as we procured beverages at over inflated clip-joint prices.
As we returned to our bus, we spied a plethora of private roads. They boasted immaculate asphalt and ran adjacent to palatial mansions. This was how the other half lived. The cream literally does rise to the top. I made a mental note of the aesthetics. The propensity of verdant acreage contrasted markedly with the lower city. Fountains were commonplace and frivolously expelled water. Although a towering edifice was testimony to the vainglorious housing , one could imagine the opulent interiors - a five level abode entailing 15 bedrooms, 20 bathrooms and a swimming pool or two. Of course the house was vacant. The proprietor was abroad having flown south for the winter, or applying himself/herself in a business venture. In the case of the latter, the enterprise might represent a tax loss. Any potential setbacks would be rectified through gains in stocks, shares and interest. Money, for some at least, works while you sleep.
Having gone off at a tangent, I've now lost my train of thought. Ah, yes, what next in Naples. Our final destination was the Church of gesu nouvo (new jesus). The exterior facade was quite unusual:
Luisa informed us that the unusual design was due to a guild of masons in the employ of the Jesuits. What I thought was embossed stone was in fact a pyramid. Each individual brick was designed in this fashion and has a unique symbol. The task of constructing the church must have been an extremely laborious task. One can only imagine.
The interior consisted of a whole panoply of icons, sculptures and artwork:
Forgive the poor image. Flash photography was strictly forbidden in the church. Whilst ambling inside I encountered an embarrassing problem. As I tread the marble floor, my recently purchased Marks and Sparks shoes began to emit a rasping squeak. It was as though Alvin and the chipmunks had come to Naples! People viewing the various exhibits or confiding in the priests probably found it difficult to focus. I tried to move as gingerly as possible. I had decided that if anyone confronted me on the issue, I would simply claim that these were not my footwear but the voices of heavenly angels brought courtesy of Hanna Barbera!
In the immediate aftermath of my incursion on the church floor, we removed our selves to the square outside:
This is the spire of the immaculate virgin. It was constructed between 1747-50. While this was the most prominent article in the square, something else had caught my attention. Italian soldiers together with an armoured car were apparently on sentry duty. I asked Luisa why this was necessary. She explained that it was simply a programme to make civilians feel safe. Personally I felt that a more nefarious reason was at play. Naples is a seaport on the mediterranean and sits not too far from North Africa. In this day and age, it is unfortunate that terrorist elements are using southern Europe for transit. Let us not forget the fatal shooting at the Jewish Museum in Belgium a few months ago.
For the next quarter of an hour, I sat once more in a cafe, reviewing the days events. It had been a fascinating, albeit tiring experience. I had packed virtually the whole of Naples into an afternoon. Tomorrow I hoped to visit Herculaneum, the very basis for my trip.
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