RESTLESS NATIVE:Tired of the hostel, but then museum fatigue hits
It’s been a hectic week at the hostel and, oddly enough, there have been a lot of familiar faces inhabiting the rooms.
Two Australian guys have returned to the hostel three times, as they bounce back and forth between Naples and the islands.
Just the other morning, as I was sitting at one of the hostel computers, I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard a voice say, “Buon giorno.” When I turned around, I found the French tour guide who had stayed with us a few weeks earlier, smiling down on me.
Of course, he brought with him a sort of French invasion in the form of several tourists he was accompanying around Naples before taking them to Stromboli.
Thankfully, they were a friendly bunch, and, despite showing up at breakfast a bit early and in unison, they made for pleasant guests. Several other familiar faces have been wandering the hall as well, making the hostel feel a little more like home — well, at least in the way a college dorm can start to feel like home.
Of course, in my free time I try to get away from the hostel and enjoy the day.
On Aug. 15, Italy celebrated Ferragosto, which, as Renato explained to me, is the last big holiday of the summer (and thus the last big hoorah for children as they face the approach of the new school year).
This means that for most of the week, the city has been dead, even quieter than on Sundays. This is also the time of the year when many of the locals leave for vacation, so options for entertainment have been limited. One of my favorite locations, however, is a constant source of comfort and I often escape there on hot days.
The garden at the Biblioteca Nazionale is a quiet and secluded area, perfect for sitting in the shade and reading. It is also a part of the Royal Palace, which among its many sections, houses a museum.
On Monday, when the city (or what was left of it) was preparing for the holiday, I made my way to the park and museum with my new book, “The Historian,” by Elizabeth Kostova — which, I must say, is the perfect book to read while traveling through Europe; it takes place in several European countries, including Italy. But I discovered that things are not always as simple as they seem. Once, many years ago, my mother served salmon in many forms over many days until, finally, I thought I’d grow gills and pink flesh. (I love you, Mom, and don’t worry: I think you’re a great cook.) It was a case of salmon O.D., and I haven’t eaten cooked salmon since. Well, I’m in about the same place with museums: overdosed! Wandering through the palace’s rooms, I realized I’ve yet to recover.
That’s not to say that it’s not a beautiful museum with many wonderful things to see. In fact, I enjoyed a good deal of it. I just didn’t have the heart to become absorbed. This made coming across the palace’s theater, with its row upon row of seats, a refreshing discovery.
Strolling down the aisles, I picked one of the comfy, red velvet seats and sat down to read for a good hour. No one bothered me, though I wondered if any of the attendants thought it was strange for a person to come to a theater, just to read.
My final escape of the week came on Ferragosto, which landed on my day off. Renato, now interested in sampling more foreign foods after our night at the Chinese restaurant, had learned of a Spanish restaurant in a little town outside of Naples and we started off with thoughts of sangria dancing in our heads.
Unfortunately, due to the holiday, we found the restaurant was closed for the night. Not ready to let this ruin our evening, we took off for Caserta. (Here, there is another palace, much bigger than the one in Naples, with a massive garden and a fountain located so far in its depths that there are taxis and carriages on hand to aid a weary walker).
After a beautiful sunset drive to Caserta, we found a pizzeria where we shared two pizzas before topping off our appetites with gelato from a nearby shop. It was a beautiful night — the weather was clear and rather cool (I even wore a jacket) — and this outing was certainly what I needed after a long week at the hostel.
I am already planning my return with lots of hope — mostly hope that my plans will work out.
Ciao ragazzi!
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