As promised, here's Part 2 of "A Break In Bosnia" published earlier. Technically this part is a continuation, and it's not about Bosnia. It's about Naples, Italy, which we visited right after Bosnia, Croatia and Montenegro. This Part 2 is faster compared to the longish and ponderous Part 1. I hope you'll feel better reading this.
Napoli - Bad (11 July)
The easyJet flight from Dubrovnik across the Adriatic to Naples took one hour, two hours if you include the time difference.
Time difference as a concept is elegant. But it can be baffling if you're an average student, or you still believe the earth is flat, or both. I was watching late-evening football when my eldest grandchild Diana asked me casually what was the time in London. She was in Year 6 at the time and her question could well be a pick-up line from Roblox, but I was stunned nonetheless. When I was her age, I was top of my class, but the world was flat.
Anyway, the journey from the airport to downtown Napoli was decidedly disheartening. No scenery, no structure to inspire. Nothing particularly mouth-watering, except for our typically talkative Italian taxi driver named Francisco.
I provided all the provocation and he just opened up and soon was all ahead of himself, verbally attacking his own country, its crippling culture, his own wife, and Meloni, the PM. According to him she's a living fascist (Meloni, not his wife). The word "Fascist" is never easy to vocalize, but this Italian driver pulled it off perfectly.
We finally reached our apartment at 24, via Firenze. Our host, Fabio, greeted us, and he and Francisco hugged and kissed - a scene straight out of The Godfather. We had to use four different keys and codes to four different doors to finally open our apartment door.
My wife squirmed at the sight of hordes of what looked like African migrants nonchalantly cruising by. I thought she was overreacting, as always.
Francisco kindly left us his number just in case we need his help during our stay. Thank you, bro. I still keep his number (393281966102).
I'd been in Italy before, only you can never get enough. Aida loves Italy, Sarah I'm not sure, maybe Uniqlo. Together we'd explored almost all the famous sights in the top half, from Rome all the way to Venice and Lake Como. The two-night stay at a lovely hilltop farmhouse in Tuscany was outrageously out of this world.
But Naples is a different kettle of fish. It's definitely not your regular Italy. Down and depressed, it's chaotic, frantic and almost colourless. Via Firenze and all around it looked pretty much a basket case of abandon and neglect. And to think that we'd be holing up here for the next three days.
Napoli - Not Bad (12 July)
By the way, girls, a native of Naples is a Neapolitan, not Napoleon and certainly not Nepalese.
After a day touring the city centre, it gradually dawned on me that Naples wasn't without its own charm and charisma. This place was vibrant, original and unpretentious. People here shouted and celebrated for no apparent reason.
At every turn, you'd crash into flags, cut-outs, banners or just anything bearing the face of Diego Maradona, an unapologetic expression of the Neapolitans' undying love and adulation toward their adopted son and dead demigod.
It took us half a day to travel through the busy via Toledo tourist stretch and the bustling historic quarter with its quaint courtyards, alleyways, cathedrals and street stalls. We just took our time to navigate through carts of fresh fish and fruits, and admire the Neapolitan daily life unfolding at its own pace right before us.
And, of course, there was always enough time left for my wife to wave my Wise card on some linen scarfs and stuff. These were genuine Italian made and sold by polite Italian artisans and shopkeepers at retiree-friendly prices. I thought they were good value and I'd have no complaint if she bought maybe one or two pieces to show off.
Apparently at her age (and weight), it was easy to get swayed by the riot of colours, broad flowers and free sizes. I'd to remind her that she didn't have to buy every single thing in the shop. And I also cautioned her that we were running low on Celebrex, and her knees could collapse. It was a lost cause, I knew, but I'd to try everything.
This retail workout proved to be highly transformative for her, with yesterday's feints of fright and fear now all but gone for good.
Amalfi Coast (13 July)
Naples has long been a makeweight and an undercard to the more glorified Rome, Venice, Milan and Florence. This is unfortunate because three of the Italy's celebrated sights - Pompeii, Vesuvius and the Amalfi Coast - are right at its doorstep. We'd only one day left, so it's impossible to conquer all three even if my arteries weren't blocked.
You've to be physically fit to trample on the expansive Pompeii ruins. With my wife's bended knees, it's out of question. Plus you've to hire an archeologist or join a tour group to really understand what Pompeii is all about. Italy has had more than its fair share of artists and inventors, so the archeologist could well be a dentist.
Vesuvius is still an active volcano. It erupted two thousand years ago and completely buried Pompeii. It wouldn't rupture again any time soon, but who really knew. To enjoy Vesuvius, you need to walk and hike and climb up and repeat the process on the way down. No, not this time, not next time.
So we headed to the safest and easiest one - Amalfi.
No archeologist, no dentist required. It was Flixbus to Salerno and then one-hour ferry to the shores of Amalfi. Man, what a lovely, postcard-pretty place, this Amalfi Coast. The dramatic backdrop and setting were straight out of a fairy tale. No words will do it justice. It's Italy at its breathless best.
Flying Home (14 July)
Now it's time to go home.
We'd booked a morning flight from Naples to Istanbul, then a connecting flight to KL. Turkish Airlines, well, I just can't praise it enough. Friendly fares, tasty meals, cherry juice, latest movies and free data onboard. And the layover meal vouchers was a nice touch because a Burger King at the food court cost RM75 if you convert.
For the Istanbul to KL flight we were "upgraded" to premium seats (10D, 10E), with extra legroom and more air to breath. Maybe the flight was full, or the Turks got wind of my wife's wretched knees. This added some sliver of excitement to an otherwise uneventful flight. It was still an uneventful flight.
It's been one hell of an outing for us, from the dungeon of Durham Cathedral all the way to the flourish of the Amalfi Coast, with Sarajevo, Mostar, Dubrovnik, Kotor and Naples nestled nicely in between. In a space of ten days, we'd journeyed through five countries, six if you include that one anxious hour in Serbia.
We landed at about 9 am, right on time. Our second son pulled up outside the arrivals, his face lighting up with what appeared to be a mixed sense of relief and disbelief that we were back in one complete piece.
He opened the car door to let us in, and then quickly loaded our bags. He opened the car door again and peered in to see that we were really and truly inside before screeching out of KLIA as fast as he could.
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