As previously mentioned, these next couple of posts are catch-ups to what happened between Thanksgiving and my last night abroad.  It was a lot of stuff crammed into my last 12 days!  I didn’t have time to sit down and write it all out.

Backtracking now:  with only a month left in Madrid, I was running out of time to try to squeeze in one more big European excursion.  I had 4 must see places noted before I left Houston that I hadn’t finished checking off: Buñol, Munich, Pompeii and Marrakech. 

Oh, yes.  The African continent spoke to me well before I arrived in Europe.  The colors, the exotic cuisine and scents – I could see myself there smelling and tasting the flavors in the air with excited eyes taunted by shop windows.  I was a click away – seriously, one little click – from booking Marrakech in October.  But in that moment, my gut feeling pulled me away. 
The timing didn’t feel right, the planning wasn’t good, I didn’t want to take a camel ride in the desert with a bunch of strangers – I decided this will have to wait.  The country had called my name, but the feeling wasn’t there anymore.  It’s ok!  Morocco will happen eventually. (Pinning it right next to seeing Lola Marsh live some day.)
 
So, it was me and Skyscanner trying to figure out one last cheap getaway.  Paris, Porto and Milan were the frontrunners for cheapest flights.  Milan was another very close booking.  But I stopped myself and thought, Kat, you really want to go to Pompeii – quit fucking around and go there. 

√ Check.

The weather was lovely and temperate with peek-a-boo sunshine as I waited at the Naples airport for the Alibus to take me into the city.  The drop-off was an 8-minute walk from my bnb and my first impression of the city was… chaos.  People were walking in front of cars and mopeds while those same vehicles maneuvered around them and sped off inches away from other people spilling into the streets.  Some of the streets looked too seedy and dark to be safe passages. I was a little scared, to be honest. 

My bnb host saw me first and yelled for me to cross the street when I glanced in his direction. He was incredibly sweet and fed me a cherry tart and a slice of coffee cake (his wife made) before showing me the room.  I knew the bnb had a nice view from somewhere as many of the reviews noted, but I assumed it was from a communal space like a rooftop lounge.  I couldn’t believe my eyes when he opened the door.  I was 12 stories high with a private balcony facing Mount Vesuvius and the harbor.  It was spectacular.

The host left me to settle in and I sat outside nibbling on treats watching clouds follow the wind.  I had a short rest while my phone charged up and it wasn’t long before I was on the hunt for pizza.  I did a quick search for best pizza around the city and found one just up the road with thousands of positive reviews. 

It was only about a 30-minute wait in a much less chaotic street before they called my number.  I found an empty seat in the back room at a table with some friendly people from Thailand who had spent the week in Sorrento and Rome.  It was another 30 minutes before the pizza came out so I had plenty of time to absorb my surroundings to see what kind of charm this old pizzeria boasted.

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Haha!  Holy shit, this picture cracks me up.  I swear I had no idea beforehand this place was that place!  I actually saw Eat Pray Love for the first time just a few months ago while I was in Madrid.
So, there I sat in one of the oldest, most famous pizzerias in the birth city of pizzas awaiting the finished product of a recipe that hasn’t changed since its inception in 1870.  With Julia watching me.

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Was it delicious?  Hell yes!  Was it my favorite pizza ever?  Well, while it was very, very tasty, I definitely prefer a crispy crust and I’m not sure if it beat what I believe to be the best margherita pizza I’ve ever had (from Dough Pizzeria in San Antonio, TX of all places). 
If you think this Texan is biased, then please send your favorite pizza for judgement to the address at the end of this post.

Eating almost an entire pizza didn’t discourage me from squeezing some gelato in my belly after walking around the Christmas market.  I had 3 days to fit as much authentic Italian food as I could stomach and I wasn’t wasting a minute! 

I stumbled upon a card game on my walk back to the hotel and lingered in the back of a small crowd of older gentlemen watching.  One of the players noticed a pretty lady in the back and invited me to sit at the table.  We chatted in brief intervals – he was very focused on the game.  He was from Naples, but now lives in South Africa for work.  He then told me he wanted to invite his son to come out and meet me.  Alright, I thought, maybe I should pray on finding love after consuming my weight in pizza dough. 

His son and I went to a bar down the road where we discussed our jobs and travels and *gag* politics.  Lots of Europeans have been interested in my viewpoint on American politics and I’m slightly embarrassed (yet, simultaneously, uninterested to do anything about my ignorance on the topic) that they seem to know more than I do. 
It was a bit of a strange ending – a friend of his working the bar came to tell him some unfortunate news about another friend and he apologized for having to suddenly leave.  But I also thought he said he was coming back, so I sat there for a while until I guessed he wasn’t.  Hopefully, his friend is ok.

The next day I ate another yummy pastry courtesy of the host’s wife, a few cookies, toast and a coffee to wash it all down while I sat on the balcony blinded by the sun rising above Mount Vesuvius.  My host tried to feed me freshly baked croissants on my way out for Pompeii, but I was too full to accept.

It was a short walk to the train and a cheap, comfortable ride to the Pompeii station with nice views of the volcano to the east and the bay to the west. 
I was a little concerned about the crowd gathering towards the ticket queue upon exiting the train.  November is supposed to be a less popular time of year for Pompeii tourists, but it was a Saturday.

The queue, however, was quick and I was soon walking towards the entrance with my cash-only ticket.  (Repeat: cash-only.)  I didn’t really know what to expect beyond the park entrance platform.  Images I’d seen online were mostly of statues, mummies and the same open courtyard facing the volcano. 

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There is so much more to be found in the enormous excavated city.  I walked around with a few crowds of people for an hour until finally I was nearly alone heading north towards the Villa of the Mysteries.  The less people, noise and camera flashes around me, the more I could sense what being there felt like.  It was peaceful, but a heaviness surrounded me as I walked down the paths of stone and volcanic rock, bits of which undoubtedly were remnants of fallen buildings.  I was especially pained by the mummies contorted in anguish.
I marveled at what was still standing, so wonderfully preserved and, despite the heaviness, I could envision the life and glory of the city before the eruption. 

Something I thought really interesting was the piping system that could be seen peaking through broken walls.  I later found articles about the impressive plumbing systems Romans built and the theory of how lead poisoning may have aided in their downfall. 

I met someone, when I was somewhere around the House of the Vettii, who was looking for the amphitheater.  I was considering leaving soon, but having company sounded nice.  We walked in and out of gardens, houses and the like along the way.  We chatted about family and work.  We finally found the theatre about a mile from where we met.  It looked perfectly preserved like so many other things throughout the city.  I didn’t know at the time that it’s today’s oldest surviving Roman amphitheater and the oldest known to be built from stone. 
I was ready to go after we finished walking around it, so we soon said our goodbyes.  He wanted to stay a bit longer before his evening departure to Germany and I wanted to watch the sunset from my balcony. 

It was a drastically different experience having someone with me to discuss the sights.  I enjoyed the company, especially since I wouldn’t have seen the theatre without him.  For a place like Pompeii, though, I favored the experience in solitude.

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I watched the sun’s lingering rays vanish as the sky transitioned from blue to pink to darkness.  It was a bit early for dinner, but all I had for lunch was a small muffin I stowed from breakfast.  It felt like a pasta night. 
L’Antica made selecting pizza easy by offering only two choices.  Cala la Pasta had 20 dishes.  Some minutes later, I settled on gnocchi and it was another delicious (and filling) plate.  I walked around a bit again before heading back to the bnb for the night.  No room for gelato that time.

On my last day, I awoke before the sun peeked its bright rays from above the distant mountains.  A fog hung low encircling the volcano’s base hiding away part of the city.  I sat on the balcony with a cup of coffee and watched it slowly clear away. I couldn’t get enough of this view.

I had a late flight out and wanted to visit at least one museum before leaving.  Of course, I turned my attention to the nearby contemporary art museum.  As luck would have it, they offered free entrance on the first Sunday of every month.  It was cool.  I particularly liked Yeesookyung’s Moonlight Crown exhibit. 

My goal after was to eat at another popular pizza restaurant, but it was located in the thick of the Christmas market area.  I found the restaurant swarmed by dozens of people standing in a semi-circle, presumably waiting to order.  My anxiety couldn’t handle it so I walked far away from the area before searching for another restaurant.  A lot of eateries were closed, but I found a well rated joint, that wasn’t crazy packed, where I got to try a pizza fritta.  I had never had anything like it before and really liked the different flavor profile – and the crispy bits!

What other Italian things do I need to do, I thought to myself as I left the restaurant.  I still had hours to go before my flight.
Derp, coffee!  All the coffee I had so far was from the bnb. I needed to experience a coffeeshop. 
I ordered a cappuccino that was another delicious find and hung out on the patio of this very tiny café where I watched people scurry about (and wished I had booked an earlier flight).  I don’t know which is worse; waiting all day for a 7pm flight (plus an extra hour for the guaranteed Iberia Express delay) or barely sleeping the night before a 7am flight.

There wasn’t anything else I wanted to do and I was too full to eat or drink anymore. I walked across the street from the café to wait at a local bus stop that was way cheaper than the Alibus and droped off a mere 15-minute walk away from the airport.  I was halfway there when a view opened to the south and I saw the city from a completely new and gorgeous perspective.  I hopped off the bus and walked along the road trying to capture the amazing backdrop of Mount Vesuvius to the southeast and the city in the hills to the southwest.  The partially covered sun hung low over the hills casting a golden tone across the staggered buildings below.
I couldn’t have imagined a better ending.