37 ITALY: Naples & Sorrento

FINAL SCORE: NAPOLI 1, SORRENTO 2
Saturday, July 10, 2004. After two and a half incredible days in Rome, we took the 1:00pm train from Rome’s Termini station to Napoli (Naples), a 2 hour journey. Initially, I had wanted to stay in Napoli and from there explore Sorrento, Capri and Pompeii, but I had read that Napoli was quite dangerous, being the home to the Camorra- that is, the Neapolitan version of Costa Nostra, or for anyone still living in the Stone Age… the Italian non-Sicilian mafia. Being from the Chicagoland area, I am not one who scares easily, knowing full well that every city has its share of problems and neighborhoods that police will refuse to enter- night or day, but that does not make the city itself dangerous. Living in Mexico, I know how overdramatic the press can be, such as turning a tourist’s scratch on a coral reef into a shark infested nightmare on Fox News, effectively killing tourism. I had been researching hotels in Napoli and kept running across more and more serious warnings; I finally decided it was worth spending a few more Euros, just in case the rumors were right, and booked us into a B & B in Sorrento. Either way, we’d get our chance to see something of Napoli, as the train from Rome only went as far as Napoli, where we would have to switch trains to get to Sorrento. Knowing Napoli was the birthplace of pizza, I decided part of our day must include a stop there.
WILD GOOSE CHASE #1: DOES DANGER REALLY LURK AROUND THESE CORNERS?
The train ride through the Italian countryside was very scenic; we rode past farms, vineyards and orchards. Once we arrived at the dirty, dark, underground Centrale train station in Napoli, we went to check on tickets to Sorrento via the Circumvesuviana train. We learned that one left every half hour, then went to ask where the Piazza Garibaldi was. The guy gave me a funny look, rattled something off and pointed to the stairs. Confused, we walked toward the stairs and then turned around to ask someone else who explained that the station was under the piazza. I had a What To See in Napoli list that included museums, buildings, churches and of course a blurb of one of the oldest and supposedly the best pizzeria in the world. We went up into the huge piazza; it was congested and dirty, filled with newspaper vendors - it looked like a typical square in the middle of any city in the world, nothing special, no old buildings or cool architecture; people just going about their business. We decided to go first to find Da Michele the old pizzeria. My instructions said it was a few blocks off the Piazza Garibaldi, but I had no idea which way, so we asked some of the vendors. Most had no clue or did not seem interested in helping us. I have always been one to enjoy a good adventure, finding it a fun challenge to find my way around new cities (as my dearest friends and husband will attest to as they roll their eyes and groan); it is rare that I have a feeling of danger lurking around the corner that I cannot shake. We were quickly getting discouraged and feeling very unwelcome, had it not been for our grumbling stomachs (and my sheer determination to find the place), we would have turned around and gone straight to Sorrento. We found the area of Napoli we were in to be very urban and seedy; we both felt very unsafe and paranoid, a rare feeling for us both- probably why we never brought out our camcorder in Naples! Between the two of us, we have traveled and/or lived in some dangerous cities, but nothing compared to the feeling of uneasiness we both felt there; I was suddenly feeling so grateful I had made the decision to stay in Sorrento instead of Napoli. We kept walking, praying for protection and to be pointed in the right direction, asking on every block where Da Michele was… often questioning ourselves who to ask first, as quite a few men looked pretty much like they could have been relatives of Al Capone. Sometimes we were told to keep going, other times a different direction. Finally, we found a kind soul who gave us more specific directions. It certainly sounded like he knew what he was talking about; turned out he did. We found Da Michele down a quiet street.
WITH OR WITHOUT CHEESE?

We got lucky- not only did we find it without being machine-gunned down by any local godfather, Soprano, or distant cousin of Capone hoping to follow in his infamous cousin’s footsteps- but because we did not arrive at the time of day when there were long lines to get in. Anything I have read since our visit to Da Michele included words and photos of lines around the corner- or did it get more famous because word spread of our visit? That must be why it was included in Elizabeth Gilbert's book, ‘Eat, Pray, Love’... Yeah, that’s it! Antica Pizzeria Da Michele was just a hole in the wall pizzeria with lots of character- a handful of old tables, menu on the wall and served two items only: Pizza with or without cheese. While pizza dates back to the 1700’s (after the introduction of tomatoes to Italy), pizza with cheese didn’t come on the scene for another century. Pizza Marinara was the original pizza, eaten by the poor people- made on flat leavened bread topped with a sauce of tomato, oregano, garlic, basil and olive oil. The name ‘marinara’ was given as it was the food eaten by the fisherman of the Napoli region, once they returned to dry land. The first pizza to be topped with cheese, Pizza Margherita, was created for Queen Margherita in the late 1800’s; mozzarella cheese was added to complete the colors of the Italian flag: red (sauce), green (basil) and white (cheese). While times have changed and pizza has evolved around the world, the pizza world within Antica Pizzeria Da Michelle remains unchanged. Michele Condurro, namesake of the pizzeria, perfected his recipe in 1870, teaching his family his secret of success that has remained undisclosed; the only thing that has been revealed is that they use all natural ingredients and believe in the time tested tradition of leavening the dough and, five generations later, only the family hands may touch it. Must be something hereditary- the oil in their skin, perhaps? There is also the Golden Rule of the Condurro family: No junk allowed, keep it pure. Do not alter the taste under any circumstances, no matter how much the world around wants it. For once, it did not take much pleading from me for Vidal to keep himself from asking for ketchup. I had advised him years ago that it is against the law in Chicago to have ketchup anywhere near hot dogs (mustard only) and pizza (pepper flakes only). Previous to our trip, I advised him that in Italy, asking for ketchup was grounds for calling in the Camorra - Mafia. Vidal refrained from asking for ketchup; I still have my husband.
PIZZA PIZZA; NO PEPSI, COKE!
Although there were only two food items on the menu, there was a long list of items to wash our pizza down with: water, Coke or beer, all at the same price of €1.20. At the bargain price of €3.50 each, we each ordered our own pizza Margherita. At something like 900 degrees Fahrenheit, the brick oven cooked our pizzas fast, and to the delight of our grumbling stomachs they were ready in about 5 minutes. The first bite told both of us the scary adventure to find this hole in the wall was worth it, it was absolutely scrumpdillyicious! Perfect crust, tasty sauce, fresh basil and just the right amount of real mozzarella (as opposed to Domino’s pizza’s tasteless processed crap they pass off as mozzarella); so simple yet divine. It was love at first bite- the moon hit our eyes with those big pizza pies, it was amore! I couldn’t help but smile to myself that the crust reminded me of my favorite pizzeria- Roberto’s- in Elmhurst, my hometown outside of Chicago. Satisfied, we had decided before the pizza was served that we would put off exploring more of Napoli until a later date (when we could afford bodyguards), so we headed back to the train station to take the Circumvesuviana train to Sorrento.
NOW THAT’S ITALIAN!

The Circumvesuviana train was cheap and took about 1 hour from Napoli to Sorrento. The train was old; it reminded me of riding the Chicago Metra, graffiti and all, but the train cars had only one level. Looking outside, it was like we had switched from the Metra to the Chicago ‘L’, passing through neighborhoods that looked pretty skanky and a bit dangerous, not places I’d feel very safe wandering through.
The path of the train ran along the Bay of Napoli on the Amalfi coast, Napoli at one end and Sorrento at the other, along the base of the Mt. Vesuvio- hence the name of the train. The old volcano glared ominously down at us, as if she was following us to Sorrento, so we looked out the other way, toward the beautiful serene coastline. Like the Metra, there were stops about every 10 minutes; we sat in the first car, near the conductor. The very colorful conductor. The very Italian conductor. We should have been charged extra for the front row seats we had, as he kept us quite entertained for the entire ride. Between stops, he carried on a rather colorful conversation with someone, screaming bloody murder; we were certain whoever bore the brunt of his anger was going to go flying through the glass door at us any second. Then the train would arrive at a stop, the conductor would come out from behind his door, calmly tell us what stop we were at, and as nice as you please-he would check everyone’s tickets… As if there wasn’t a thing wrong in the world, it was just a regular day… He would return to his cubby hole and the second the train started moving again, the screamfest would resume… Oh, yes; we were in Italy!!!
WHERE’S MY MAMI?
Before we got to Sorrento, I searched for my Sorrento list, which had included the hotel confirmation and directions… I soon discovered I had left it in England; I had taken the confirmation email, but I hadn’t noticed that, unlike the other sheet I had printed, the one I had with me had no address or phone number. Oops! We would have to wing it.
We arrived at the Sorrento station (the end of the line) and asked at their information window about Mami Camilla. The lady said she had never heard of it, said to ask at the tourist center in the piazza below and dismissed us, turning around to do something else. We went the tourist center; the lady there was very rude, she basically said she could not be expected to know every bed and breakfast in Sorrento by heart, didn’t offer to find a phone book or anything, dismissed us, and we walked out. Some Americans happened to be right outside; one look at our perplexed faces must have told them what just happened. They came up to us and said the lady had been rude to them as well, but another tourist office a block up was very helpful; off we went (after thanking our angels). They were right, the lady was very sweet and helpful, even gave us maps, bus information directions and Mami Camilla’s phone number. She said we should have got off at the second to last train station, San Agnello di Sorrento. However, a nearby bus would drop us off close to the bed and breakfast, and she directed us to the bus. Another angel, indeed! The bus driver was equally as nice (angel #4?), told us not to worry, he would tell us what stop to get off; he dropped us off not at a bus stop, but across the street from Mami Camilla’s entrance!
MAMI CAMILLA
A sweet young girl greeted us and checked us in; basically she took us into the main house, took our confirmation sheet and took us to our room. It was a charming place, very reminiscent of our family complex in Mexico, just bigger… and Italian. Very Italian, as we could hear family members yelling at each other in the background! The main house was one story, but spacious; and the kitchen, wow! A dream kitchen (for me) with lots of counter space plus a huge island in the middle, copper pots hanging on the wall, plenty of windows to allow the fresh breeze and abundant sunshine to get in.
Second, the grounds were enormous; in their gardens they grew veggies, herbs, lemon and olive trees. Right by the building of rental rooms in which we stayed in, we walked past the covered veranda with tables and chairs for up to 30 people, a row of lemon trees gave shade to the path. There was no actual vineyard here; their wine was made locally for them. Our room itself was on the second level. It was small but immaculately clean, had two twin beds pushed together, a nightstand, a chair, a tiny closet, decent mirror and a dressing table; the a/c was sufficient. The bathroom was small, it had a decent shower with hot water, but the toilet didn’t work… Living in Mexico, we were old pros at handling that; we just asked for bucket with water and said we’d be fine! They did of course come later to fix it, no problem!
WILD GOOSE CHASE OF THE DAY #2: SHOW ME YOUR CASH
As we had departed Rome with no cash (all nearby cash machines had been clean out of cash), we headed out to explore. We (okay, I!) thought it would be more fun to just wander on our own without asking first for directions. We went first across the street and to the left; the road did not go very far and the hotels across the street were all built upon a cliff overlooking the sea. We snuck a peek inside one, but knew we had to keep going… We kept going, and going, and going, and going, just like a couple of Energizer rabbits. Two miles later, we found ourselves in front of a cash machine that not only had cash- it did not eat our cards before spitting Euros out at us! We danced and sang for a bit in relief; we would not die paupers in Italy! We just made it back at 8pm to get ready for our 8:15pm dinner reservation at Mami Camilla.
CHEF BOYARDEE AND FRIENDS
Mami Camilla was not just a bed and breakfast, it was a cooking school. You could sign up for cooking classes by the day, week or month, and each night, devour the delightful dishes you helped prepare with Chef Papa. If you were not part of the cooking crew, you could join them for dinner for €30 per person, which included unlimited house wine. As we were exhausted from the day (mostly from chasing down bank machines), we were quite happy to for once only have to go downstairs for dinner. It would also be the first and only time we would be dining with other tourists. Normally, we preferred to be around locals in local places, so this was a change, and we really had fun. We sat at a table for 14; there were a couple of smaller tables for 4 set up nearby as well. The people were all great; the food was good, but not excellent. I had expected it to blow me away, I had visions of my friend Ann’s mother’s lasagna on Christmas Eve.. . I had seen that week a beautiful Italian woman on a bus that looked like she could have been Ann’s mother when she was young, and memories of her Italian cooking were on my mind and invading my senses, wanting to recreate those sensations in Italy. Oh, well. We thoroughly enjoyed the company, which made up for it. The concept was new only to us; the rest were either hostel hoppers or had been staying at Mami Camilla’s for awhile - a couple gals had been there for over a month, and always dined with fellow tourists. One Japanese gal had been backpacking alone through Vietnam and China before she landed in Italy, staying for 1 month to learn how to cook Italian! Awesome! I loved that everyone shared tidbits of where they had been with each other. Because of the advice they gave, I changed our itinerary for the following day, and knew we would not be going on a wild goose chase to find transportation. A great time was had by all, and we were asleep by 11:45pm.
BREAKFAST TIPS INCLUDED
Tuesday, July 10, 2004. Continental breakfast was included; we wandered downstairs, sleepy-eyed, at 8:00am. There was delicious freshly baked bread accompanied by butter, jams, cheese, yogurt, cereals, fresh orange juice and oh yes, divine cappuccino! We sat with a couple of the guests we had met the night before, a lady from England and another from San Francisco; we had a lovely conversation of travels and they gave us more advice for our adventures of the day. As the night before, the family all pitched in to serve; all were very sweet. The father was really big, and had a teddy bear-like quality to him. They all tried to speak English, I loved their Italian accents!
A LOVELY EVENING IN SORRENTO
After an adventurous day of exploring the isle of Capri and the ruins of ancient Pompeii, we returned by train and actually remembered to get off at San Agnello… without stopping to realize we had no idea how to get to Mami Camilla’s from that station… I did have a map, but it was basic and did not show that the street we tried to take did not actually go through! No problem; as exhausted as we were, we knew we were close and the neighborhood was lovely with old houses, gardens and even a little park, eventually finding our way. That night, we headed out for our last dinner in Sorrento. We went to catch the 8:15 bus; there were others waiting also, we were 10 in all. By 9:05pm, most gave up waiting, having decided to stay back and eat in their hotels. We passed the time by watching the sun set off the reflection of passing cars, afraid to run inside one of the hotels behind us which overlooked the sea for the perfect view, for fear the bus driver would choose that moment to arrive… Finally, Vidal walked down the street to a taxi to ask how much it would be to Sorrento; some ladies waiting at the stop had told us they would split the cost. He was told it would be €10, no more than 4 people, but by the time Vidal came back to tell us, the ladies had left… An Irish couple was still waiting, they said they were ready to give up on the bus and would gladly share a taxi with us. Naturally, that taxi had left, and it was another 10 minutes before another came by. We enjoyed conversing with the other couple, so the time went quickly. When we got to Sorrento, we gave the Irish man a €10 bill (we had nothing smaller), but he refused, saying he enjoyed our company so much he couldn’t take our money and it was his pleasure (Irish angels do exist, you know), and wished us well… I did tell him he was an angel as we parted… He just smiled and winked (before he disappeared in a cloud of smoke). It was by then 9:30pm; Sorrento was packed, people everywhere and we had no clue where to go. We walked and walked; it seemed like such a magical old town with old buildings and charming squares. We did a bit of window shopping (shops were still open), admired tiny piazzas and looked hungrily at menus – nothing seemed to catch our fancy. We finally decided on Donna Vittoria’s off of Piazza San Antonino at 10pm; it ended up to be one of our best meals of the trip; the seafood antipasto was exceptional. It was there I was told that my favorite dish, Fettuccini Alfredo, was hard for me to find because contrary to what I had been told, it was NOT an Italian dish, it was an American-Italian dish… Another awesome meal with delicious wine; we took the last bus at 11:15pm back…
**I later read my original thought was correct; the waiter Sorrento was not: Fettuccini Alfredo was indeed created in Rome at the famous restaurant, Alfredo alla Scrofa…
TICKETS, PLEASE
We slept until 8am, had our delicious continental breakfast at 8:45am, then packed and hit the road after we said our goodbyes to our fellow guests and our wonderful Italian family hosts at 9:30am. We walked the few blocks to the train station and made the 10:20am train to Napoli. In the Napoli station, we went straight to get our tickets on the 11:36 Intercity train to Rome, paid a few Euros extra for assigned seats, and nixed the idea of going up for air in the Piazza Garibaldi. The train was a much nicer one than what we had two days prior; we even had good a/c and semi-private compartments to sit in, 3 seats each across from each other and a door into the corridor. The other four passengers were already sitting there when we arrived. We were comfortable until about halfway to Rome when we smelled fumes; we never did find out why. About that time, a conductor came by to check tickets and rattled off something about us having the wrong ticket (another person in our compartment translated that for us). I had handed him by mistake the receipt -we had bought our tickets through machines and the receipt looked identical to the ticket. I searched, found the other ticket (it was just one ticket for two passengers) and gave it to him; he again rattled something off we didn’t understand. Suddenly all four of the others in our compartment jumped in the conversation, a saint of a young man told us we should have received a 3rd ticket as well from the machine, as the one I had handed him was for just for the reserved seats. I explained we had bought our tickets on a machine with a credit card, the screen had read €39 for 2 pax with reserved seats, we took the ticket and receipt and left, the same thing we had done on 3 separate occasions within Italy. He repeated what we said to the conductor, the other 3 ladies (which included a nun with a bad cold) were chiming in, obviously in our defense by their tone and wild hand gestures. Funny, in most of our travels in Italy we did not have trouble understanding Italian, but on that train ride we were clueless; luckily God had sent angels to share our compartment with us! As it turned out, the first ticket we had shown him was strictly the receipt showing nothing more than the amount we paid, the second was for upgrading to reserved seats, but there should have been a third ticket- the one which was actually for the passage- that we had not waited for. When we had purchased Eurostar train tickets within Italy from the machines before, each had ‘2 passengers’ with the reserved seats shown on the same tickets, so we had not thought anything of it. Our fault, of course, for not reading the fine print on the tickets, and for not realizing that Intercity being a different company from Eurostar, their tickets would be different, even if the machines we purchased the tickets through was the same for both… The conductor finally shook his head and walked away; our 4 angels smiling compassionately at us while reassuring us all was fine. We thanked our neighbors and sat back for the rest of our journey to Rome; the conductor never came back…

For more information:
Italy train http://www.trenitalia.com
circumvesuviana train http://www.vesuviana.it/
Pizzeria Da Michelle http://www.damichele.net/
Sorrento tourism: http://www.sorrentotourism.com/eng/index.html
Mami Camilla cooking school: http://www.mamicamilla.com/