Every Day Fairytale: Naples, Part I: Napoli and Vesuvio

Ancient Sea Wall in Naples

The view of Naples from the base of Mt. Vesuvius

I should probably warn you that some of the most awesome things about our trip were pretty front loaded. Prepare yourself for the kind of life Rose lived for the next few days. Trust me, we return to Jack's people soon, but for now, buckle up.

As soon as this birthday/graduation trip was revealed to me, the first thing Amanda and I agreed on was that we would hike Vesuvius, Visit Pompeii, and do the Vatican in style. We knew it meant no paid tours for the rest of the trip, but we didn't care. We didn't want to go to these places and tour around the cities shopping. We wanted to experience these countries, and that is just what we did.

Naples was our first stop, and the very first thing I noticed after getting off the ship was that the locals call it "Napoli." Henceforth, so shall I, to live as the locals live. Upon arrival we met our personal tour guide, he was the perfect quintessential Italian man named Daniel. The Italians don't pronounce it like the two-syllable name Americans do. They draw it out. They turn it into three syllables with an emphasis on the end of the name. Listen here. He was handsome, and stylish, had a leather bag, a low man-bun, tall, skinny, dark, and everything you think an Italian should be. He ushered us towards a black Mercedes, opened doors, and we stepped in to the air conditioned, plush leather seats while being greeted by our personal driver, and in that instant, the private tour was worth every penny no matter what the rest of the day looked like.

High Rollers

As we began our drive to the volcano, we experienced another perfectly Italian moment as we sped along narrow and twisting roads and spotted a parked Vespa, behind it a couple making out passionately as if they were plucked from a painting and on display perfectly perched on a rock wall. Despite their attempt at sucking the other's tongue out of their face, it was too perfect to start our experience in Italy by laying eyes on the very love they are known for. Daniel filled us in along the way with a wealth of knowledge and background about the area.

It wasn't all sunshine and roses though. I ate a huge breakfast knowing I'd be doing a lot of walking. The tour brochure indicated "light exercise" and I didn't want to be hungry. Remember those narrow roads I mentioned? Well, combine that with me in the back seat of a car, a foreign driver who knows only two speeds: stop and fast, winding switchbacks that put the Big Horns to shame, and a full belly, and what you have is one very, very car sick Ayzlynn. Amanda was smart enough to get motion sickness patches from her doctor before we left, I was not.

Finally the torture in the car ended and the driver dropped us off at what I believed to be a location near the top of the volcano. Once out of the car and able to breathe some fresh air, my stomach started to at least settle a little bit. Daniel indicated that the path to the crater was closed and gave us some wonderful information about the history of the volcano. We stopped and put sunblock on, oblivious and happy and observing the delicious smells all around us.

At the base of the Mt. unaware of the fate that lay ahead of us.

It was during this waiting time for the path to open that we learned that while the rest of the world calls the Volcano Mt. Vesuvius, the Italians call it, simply, "Vesuvio" and they have a healthy respect born of borderline fear for the danger they live in constantly. The path finally opened, and Daniel, Amanda, and I started walking up the 4500 feet to get to the crater, and discovered that the path was never less than a 45 degree angle (at the least!) the entire hike. It was No. Damn. Joke. We had to stop for the occasional rest and Daniel cracked a joke about he was an old man. Amanda told him to pace himself and he quickly picked up on that American phrase making ready jokes about "pace-ah youself-ah!"

I will be honest, I didn't know what I was in for, and I was already sick from that awful car ride. I should have done some research. Below is an aerial of the path you take to get to the base of the crater. I should have known better than to listen to the "light physical activity" claim. I felt like I was dying. I was weak from the heat and still nauseous from the car, and now, exhausted from the exercise.

Where those switchback things start at the bottom is where started hiking, and that incline you see is done in less than two miles!

We were all sweating bullets, so Daniel stayed and waited for us while we went off with a guide for the crater and joined another English speaking group.

I told Amanda, "I am going to throw up in front of all of these people." Luckily, the guide was discussing something really interesting and the group was pressed up against the railing to the crater. I walked to the opposite side to the edge of the mountain and leaned over the ropes. Amanda shielded me with her body as best she could, and after 2 dry heaves, I hurled my breakfast down the side of Mt. Vesuvius. Amanda had her hand on my back (it's the Mom in her) and as soon as I was done, she spun towards me, handed me off a water bottle and a mint, and started kicking dirt over the edge to cover up my humiliation. Just that quickly we rejoined the group and moved on.

She said it was the quietest vomit episode she'd ever heard and only 3 people looked over at me. It was a ninja team effort, I felt immediately better, and it will remain as one of our most ultimate boot and rally stories of all time.

This is a reenactment and for entertainment purposes only.

So anyway...back to the crater! Continuing with the theme of love in Italia, our tour guide had us shout "Amore!" in to the volcano. It was cool to hear our voices echo back at us. We truly enjoyed the top of the volcano. I was feeling like a whole new person, and when we reached the peak, we stopped to learn that in that moment we were at the highest point in Italy. It was beautiful, and you could see all of Napoli. The city was stunning from up there.

In Italy, they believe that breathing in the air from the crater is good for your health. We gulped that air like it was our life line, and it was so fragrant and fresh. It was a sweet smell, like a flower, but it did not smell like any flower I have ever known. Sweet, but not too much, and also such a clean smell. It was so surreal standing there with my best friend, gulping in lung-fulls of air as it were the only life source we'd ever had, closing our eyes and just feeling the energy and history of the ancient volcano all around us.

We learned A LOT about the history of the crater, and I wished I had taken a recorder to keep keep track of it all. One interesting thing we learned was that Vesuvio used to erupt every 50 years for the past 400 year period, right up until 1944 during WWII. Now, it has gone over 70 years. It gave me some healthy respect for where I was standing for sure. There also used to be a chair lift that took you to the top of the mountain to view the crater - wouldn't that have been nice on my car sick tummy! However, the forestry surrounding the volcano became a protected park and the lift could no longer operate.

There was gift shop at the end of the crater where we purchased animals carved of the lava rock from the mountain, and we were able to walk back at our leisure.

Daniel was waiting for us at the base of the volcano, and having just learned about the 50 year regularity of the volcano, I asked him if he lived in fear of the eruption being overdue. He told me, with his thick Italian accent, with his soft spoken voice, that yes, there was a tiny bit of fear, but he believed it was a good thing, for it keeps us humble and cautious. He said that although scientist believe the volcano to be dormant, the Napolian people do not largely believe that, and he himself was unsure if he believed it. Too many years of the mountain proving them wrong. It was a powerful moment as we began to hike down that slope.

As we were walking down the very path that lead to my loss of breakfast, some kids skip/ran by us, and Amanda decided that looked like a fun time. She will always be a kid at heart, and it's one of the very things I love so much about her. So she started skipping along and slid on a rock, almost falling. She did some mad ninja-dancing and caught her balance before she went down, and laughing she called back to me, "That's what I get for trying to be cool!" Daniel, very seriously, says, "Don't-ah try to be-ah cool!"

On the next round of slopes, Daniel lost his own footing under a rock and, like Amanda, caught his footing before he fell down. He quickly poked fun at himself by repeating his advice earlier, "I must-ah pace yourself! A little bit of fear is good!" We all laughed uproariously as if he was part of our lasting friendship all along, and Amanda jabbed, "Don't try to be cool!"

It was the perfect ending to the check mark on a bucket list I've been growing my entire life. I hiked Mt. Vesuvius. Who can say that? I hurled down the side of the one of the most well-known volcanoes in all the world. Now who can say that?!