Revisiting Neapolitan Haunts

   There is nothing better than staying in one place long enough to really get to know it, to return to places again and again, to get to know the people there, and they you.

That is why we returned to Naples, this time for two weeks. 

Same neighbourhood, upgraded flat, but close enough to our favourite haunts.

Rather than the seven-minute walk up a steep hill to Bar Posillipo, it’s a 10 minute walk on (mostly) even ground, from our flat to the neighbourhood commercial area we visit every day, for fresh fruit and veg, for sandwiches and beer from the deli, for a glass of prosecco at Bar Posillipo.

The first time we poked our heads into Bar Posillipo this trip, Anna Maria was at her usual post, behind the cash register.  She looked up and immediately recognised us, with a big smile.

 

“We were expecting you last autumn,” she said. We told her about my misstep as she brought out our ‘usuals’ to the outside table we always choose.

That's the hill we had to climb
everyday last trip

We met her husband. We said hello to the same staff who were all there 18 months ago. They all know I like to drink a glass (or two) of prosecco.

Have I mentioned aperitivo? This is the Italian version of cocktail peanuts or pretzels back home.  Here, they bring small bowls of very nice olives, one of potato chips and one of mini pizzas.

If you’re not careful, you won’t need to eat dinner.

We made a point of returning to Bar Posillipo almost every afternoon, to see our friends.

We also learned that Anna Maria and I have the same birthday in late July (I’m 13 years older but hey, a Leo’s a Leo right?) We’re planning to celebrate together next summer, in Naples, for my 75th.

Next door is the green grocer, usually run by two attractive women

This time of year they have punts of wild strawberries and fresh artichoke hearts, among the well-stocked bins of fruits and vegetables. 

There are two birds who sing in their cages to all passers-by, plus a knot of six-year-old girls who play (and sometimes fight) loudly, annoying the old fart sitting a few metres away. 

The shop next to the green grocer is a deli with a nice old guy behind the counter who makes up a super sandwich.  His name is Raphaele and he has befriended Scott because he appreciates Scott’s speaking Italian to him.

Even the woman behind the till here - who rarely smiles - actually smiles at Scott now. 

They remember us. (At least they remember Scott!)

The third place in which we spent more than one or two meals is Nonna Elena (nonna is Italian for grandmother).

  There is no English menu at Nonna Elena.

There are two restaurants, after Nonna Elena, where we love to linger, especially on a sunny Neapolitan afternoon.

The first one we found by accident, walking to the west, away from the city, along Via Posillipo. 

The restaurant is nestled among fruit trees, grape vines and situated under just-blooming wisteria when we visit them again on this trip.

They boast that many of their offerings are ‘zero kilometro’, meaning they are within a kilometre from the restaurant. In fact, some of the wine they serve is made from the vines just off the balcony where we’re eating. Their rosato (rosé) is yummy.

These guys also offer calamaretti which we like to begin with.  And pretty much everything else is fresh seafood, fresh pasta, fresh tomatoes . . . It’s a little early in the season for sea urchin, which Scott craves. 

And honestly, the view can’t be beat.

We visited them again twice this time around, taking our nephew J with us on a sunny day.

The one other restaurant we always try to visit at least twice is an elegant place tucked into the cliffs of Marechiaro (Clear Sea).

We learned about this one from a friendly stranger coming home on the bus back up to Posillipo from town on our 2023 trip. She and Scott got to talking and she alit at the same stop we did near Bar Posillipo.  She told us about this little enclave about half an hour’s walk down a steep hill from Rosiello.  

‘A Fenestella (it means ‘a window’ in Latin) is named after a Neapolitan love song about a young man singing under the window of his love

This is the namesake window

It is by far our favourite place to dine, right on the water. 

We took our nephew here too.

The views are spectacular and it is the place to be seen, especially on a sunny Sunday.

When we visited in ‘23, we made friends with our young waiter and his wife (also a server there). 

They gave us two espresso cups the first time we dined.  The second time we were given limoncello in two ceramic shot glasses.  All branded with ‘A Fenestella.

When we came this time, Scott showed the photo to the manager and he called the young waiter and his wife over to see.  He remembered! He also explained to our current waiter to ‘take good care of us’. Of course he did! 

I had a wonderful starter of smoked goose breast with pasta after. Scott had half a lobster with pasta. We were in heaven.

The second time we visited, I had the lobster and we managed a photo with our new best friend, the new waiter.

Vesuvius Erupting!

 Our first day in the flat in Posillipo was unpacking and getting to know the neighbourhood again. 

Scott found a small grocery store a few steps toward town for some essentials, mostly breakfast and supper stuff:  we planned to eat lunch out and graze for dinner during our time in Naples.

The flat had a Nespresso machine, an improvement over the little moka we had in the last flat.

It worked for one cup of espresso and one cup only. We had one of those years ago in the flat in Venice. So analogue. And rather like a tiny little Vesuvius itself: water boiling up to percolate the coffee grounds.

Nespresso is infinitely superior.*

There was a large flat screen television on the wall in the living room.  

Wherever we travel, it’s rare that the television ever gets turned on. But we were in the midst of a fascinating Italian series on the reunification of Italy, as told from the point of view of a Sicilian Prince, The Leopard. We’d been watching it at home and wanted to finish it before setting sail for Sicily in two weeks’ time.

Another new discovery was Lacrima Christi, a local plonk from the very slopes of Vesuvius. Deliciously dry and white.

I’m going to do a little sidebar here about a book I’ve been reading (hard copy!) called Volcanic by John Brewer, a very readable history of how Mount Vesuvius influenced the great and good and the not so good, especially during the heyday of the Grand Tour.

Vesuvius was a favourite spectacle, visited by tourists from all the over the world in the late 18th - early 19th centuries, even North and South America and Japan.  The mountain was quite active at the time and guides would entice visitors up to the top for a look-see down into the roiling lake of lava.  

Today the old girl is pretty quiet.  The last eruption of note was in 1944 but there wasn’t even a little smoke rising while we were there.

Until that first night.

Yes, I’d really enjoyed that Lacrima Christi wine (Latin for tears of Christ), and as I toddled off to bed, I was about to close the curtains before looking out one last time at the mountain and behold!

Rising slowly out of the old crater was a bright golden blob! My God I thought, is Vesuvius really erupting?? Could I believe my eyes?

I ran into the living room to tell Scott, and then ran back. How exciting to be a part of history!

Well, no.

It was a very full moon rising just exactly above the crater. 

I was relieved.

And a little disappointed.

* I was not paid to say that.

A return to Partenopea (Napoli!)

          The name Partenopea is derived from a siren named Partenope, who was unable to lure Odysseus with her voice so she killed herself by drowning in the Bay near a very old town called Neapolis.  Today: Naples.

Yes! We’re back!

After a month in a flat in the Neapolitan neighbourhood of Posillipo, uphill from the chaotic centre of the city, we had such a good time, we vowed to return.

Our plans for an August ‘24 adventure were squelched because of a mishap of mine: actually a misstep when I fell on my ass and fractured my hip.

Six months later, with a new hip (for Scott) and a couple of hip screws (for me), we finally made it back to this ancient Italian city. (Naples is one of the oldest continuously inhabited urban areas in the world. And boy it’s seen its share of invaders: Spaniards, French, Normans, you name it.)

For two weeks, we revisited our favourite haunts and discovered new ones; reunited with old friends and met new ones; saw some familiar sights in a new light.

The next couple of posts will be about these new discoveries and rediscoveries.

First, I want to share the places we stayed this time, the hotels and the flat we rented.

Grand Hotel Parker’s - ‘a napoli dal 1870’

We secured our Airbnb flat for two weeks and bought our plane ticks. Then realised we were coming in a day before the flat would be available.

Well hell.

I went online to see what kind of nifty place I could find where we could spend one night and found Parker’s, up on one of Naples’ many hills.

We taxied into town in pissing down rain but found the hotel, overlooking the Bay of Naples, to be elegant and comfortable.

They boast a Two Michelin Star restaurant but we ate in the less fancy (and less expensive ergo ‘meh’) eatery one floor down.

Parker’s has an interesting history in that it was acquired by a noted British marine biologist, George Parker Bidder III, in 1870.  Bidder played a significant role in the Biological Station in Naples and stayed at the hotel when he was in town. He loved the hotel so much he bought it. 

We definitely had a room with a view:

Mt. Vesuvius in the background

Our room was tastefully appointed, but there was a curious item on the writing desk.

Yes, the message in a bottle

The message was a short history of Bidder, telling the story of what he did as part of an investigation of water currents, particularly in the North Sea.  He released over 1,000 bottles with a message inside promising a shilling to any and every one who found a bottle and returned it. Most of the bottles were found within months, but those that weren’t were presumed lost forever. In 2015, however, a bottle was found by a beach walker on the German island of Arum.  The Guinness Book of World Records certifies it as the ‘oldest ever message in a bottle.’

The hotel rewarded us for reading it, with complimentary tickets to the Naples Aquarium located in the Villa Comunale (formerly the Biological Station of the Royal Villa) where Bidder did much of his work.

The aquarium is small but interesting, with several tanks of exotic and colourful fish. A new discovery for us.

 

Our Posillipo flat

It’s in the same neighbourhood where we spent a month in 2023, but right on Via Posillipo and with a view that just didn’t quit. The flat was a little spare but very roomy and well lit.  We took an eccentric little lift to the second floor where the sunlit front bedroom and kitchen dining area opened onto generous balconies with an unobstructed view of the entire Bay, from Mt. Vesuvius to the Amalfi Coast to the Island of Capri. 

We got to look at that for two entire weeks.

Our favourite bus, No. 140 (with its extremely good looking drivers, men and women), stopped right in front of our building to take us down to the centre of town or up and over to some of our favourite restaurants.  (More on those later).

There was no climbing a hellish hill as last time, and the road works and pavement repairs were mostly completed so that walking was a little safer than last time. 

Grand Hotel Vesuvio

Another small glitch in our planning: the decision was made to take an overnight ferry to Sicily and stay at the Villa Igiea for a couple of nights before heading home to Shropshire. But the ferry didn’t leave until 8:00 at night, and we had to vacate the flat by Noon. We spent a bit of dough to spend six hours in a very fancy hotel down on the water, a much easier ride to the harbour. (about £83 an hour). 

Extremely elegant restaurant with a terrace bar up top and another unforgettable view of its namesake and Capri.

Castel Dell'Ovo with Capri in the distance

 

Villa Igiea, Palermo Sicily

It's really hard to find a more gloriously elegant joint than this Rocco Forte pile on a private harbour looking out on the Mediterranean Sea and the craggy hills surrounding the north shores of Sicily. I’ll talk more about this short respite in the last post of this trip.

More soon.

A Supper Club

This is a hairy bullock

    Not to be confused with Harry Bullock, chef extraordinaire, whose food we had the pleasure of dining on this past week.

Evatt & Bullock Co. is a private catering company headquartered at Dinham Weir House here in Ludlow. (https://www.evattbullock.co.uk/)

Our first encounter with this exceptional food guy and his team was last year at a weekend celebration for one of our departed friends. Gathering at the Dinham Weir House set on the River Teme, we were kind of blown away by the food and by the people who created it.

Of course, the food was fabulous, and Scott was particularly taken with a creative way to use egg yolk as a garnish: dry salt-cured, then grated so that it looks a little like cheese.

We enjoyed Harry's food so much that we asked if he might be interested in catering a small group of six.

           Well, yes!

Jen Collins & Harry Bullock of
Evatt & Bullock Co.

So, the six of us gathered for a memorable dining experience at the home of one of our friends.

We were not disappointed.

Harry and his colleague Jen created an imaginative menu just for us:

From some of his signature canapes to inventive ways to serve beets, beef cheeks and other delectables, we were wined and dined as if we were eating in a world-class restaurant. 

Harry brought springtime to the table with his scallop ceviche:

…and his clever take on beetroot

Such a good time was had by all, we have declared this a four-seasonal event.