We escaped to Naples for a few days, and although we knew that southern Italy is not known for its tranquility, our first impression exceeded all expectations.
The drive from the airport to the hotel was an adrenaline bomb. We arrived late at night, traffic was supposedly light, but our taxi driver drove like he was the main character in an action movie. For him, red lights were just decoration, and when changing lanes, he ignored the laws of physics. We sped through the city at such a speed that we could only hold on, but at least we arrived at the hotel quickly – and at the same time we got a quick “taste” of the Neapolitan temperament.
Naples is a city of amazing contrasts. From narrow, chaotic alleys, colorful with drying clothes, we suddenly arrived at huge, dignified squares and monumental medieval buildings.
The Galleria Umberto I is a stunning glass-roofed passage that you simply cannot miss. It was built at the end of the 19th century (between 1887 and 1890) and was a symbol of the city’s modernization at the time. Not only is its huge dome breathtaking, but so is its mosaic floor – it was a real social center even a hundred years ago.
The Castel Nuovo (Maschio Angioino) is an iconic three-bay castle on the coast. It was built by the House of Anjou in the 13th century (during the reign of Charles I), when the capital was moved from Palermo to Naples. The beautiful Renaissance marble gate at its entrance commemorates the later Aragonese conquest.
We took a bus to Castel Sant’Elmo, the fortress that towers over the city. This 14th century star-shaped fortress was a strategic point and the views from its walls are simply indescribable. Below us lay the entire city, the sea, and in the distance, Vesuvius loomed menacingly but majestically.
During our walks, and even in our hotel, we stumbled upon a name and a characteristic face: Totò (originally Antonio de Curtis). He was the “prince” of the Neapolitans, the city’s beloved comedian and poet, without whom it is impossible to understand the soul of Naples. They told us about his most famous poem, entitled ‘A livella’ (The Level). This deeply philosophical yet ironic work is set in a cemetery, where the ghost of a haughty marquis and a poor gravedigger argue. The essence of the poem is that death is like a mason’s level, making everyone equal, regardless of whether someone lived as a prince or a beggar. This idea is somehow true for the entire city – between the luxurious palaces and the shabby alleys, everyone here feels the same love of life and humility towards fate.
Few people know, but the history of Naples is closely intertwined with the Hungarian. In the Middle Ages, the Kingdom of Naples was one of the richest states in Europe. In 1347, the Hungarian King Louis the Great launched a campaign against Naples. The reason was a personal tragedy, his younger brother, Duke Andrew (who was the husband of the heir to the Neapolitan throne), was murdered. Louis swore revenge and captured the city, taking the title of King of Naples. Although he was victorious militarily, Hungarian rule did not last long (a total of a few years, in several waves), as the distance and the diplomatic resistance of the Pope made it impossible to hold onto the territory permanently. Despite this, the memory of the Hungarian Anjou still lives on in the city walls today.
We closed the evening in style. Although we waited in line for over an hour on the street, it was worth it, as we got into the famous Gino e Toto Sorbillo pizzeria. It’s a Michelin-recommended place, yet incredibly homey and (even by Neapolitan standards) extremely reasonably priced. We ate three fantastic thin-crust but richly flaky pizzas, after which I think we’ll have a hard time ordering pizza anywhere else.
