Part dos of my adventures in Italy!

Getting from Palermo to Naples was easy enough, but the neighborhood that our hostel was in felt a bit dodgy. My friend and I shared a room with four guys, two Germans and two Australians. I forgot to mention in my previous post that crossing the streets in Italy is an extreme sport; cars rarely stop for you, crosswalks don’t mean anything, and you have to run across the street, weaving in between cars–I think Naples drivers were the worst.

It was at this point in our trip that I began to feel mentally exhausted; I realized that I was tired of men on the street staring at me, talking to me, approaching me, making noises at me–I was tired of having to be on the alert everywhere I walked. I missed Madrid, where I felt safe practically everywhere I went, where people looked at me but not aggressively.

The train ride to Pompeii was packed, but in the end, worth it. We hiked Mount Vesuvius and explored the ruins–I was in awe over how much of the town has actually been preserved, thousands of years later. However, I would advise anyone who visits Pompeii, to allow ample time for finding the exit. We walked around for a solid hour, trying to find the correct exit, and by the time we were on the train headed back to Naples, it was dark. This is when our adventures took a turn…

We had to go back to our hostel in Naples to pick up our suitcases, and then get back on the train, which stopped running at 9:30, to get to Sorrento. What should’ve been an hour’s journey turned into three hours, when we realized that we had gotten on the wrong train. At first, we thought, “Well, this sucks, but we’ll switch to the green line in…ten stops…” As the train moved, it got louder and louder, sounding like it would break down; the stops we passed looked progressively sketchier; and four raucous men paced back and forth, slamming the glass separators. Apparently I’m not good at hiding my facial expressions because my friend turned to me and said “You look terrified. Are you imagining that this train is going to break down and we’re going to be stranded at one of these sketchy stops?”

I was.

As we began to approach the stop where we needed to change trains, a man approached us and asked where we were going. Since he was the only one left on the train, and he kind of looked like he worked there, and I was freaking out, I told him we were trying to get to Sorrento. He looked at us and said “This train doesn’t go there.” We told him we knew that, but we were going to switch to the other line at the next stop. He pulled out his phone and started talking to someone, and also began pacing back and forth, putting one finger up at us every time we looked at him. We got off the train, at another creepy, dark, stop, and he followed us, along with the person operating the train. They had decided that that was the last stop and were done with work. The man proceeded to tell us what platform and train we needed to get on, and then left.

When we got on the next train, a man who worked there came up to us and asked where we were trying to go. We quickly figured out that the guy on the other train must have contacted him and told him that there were two lost Americans trying to get to Sorrento. After the workers conferred amongst themselves, they told us we didn’t need to worry about missing the last train, and that we could switch at a stop that was almost all the way back to Naples. The train flew along, skipping stops, and when we finally got to our stop, the conductor stuck his head out the window and pointed at the correct platform. We realized that he must’ve phoned into the other train and asked them to wait for us, because otherwise we would’ve missed it and been stranded in Naples for another night.

We arrived at our hostel in Sorrento just after 11:00, with my friend’s phone data not working, and my phone battery at 3%. We had walked nearly 10 miles that day.

The next day was our last day in Italy, so we took a ferry to the island of Capri. We walked for nearly two hours, much of it uphill, trying to get to the correct beach–the lines for the bus were so long that we thought we would get there sooner if we walked. But, when we did get to the correct beach, the views were beautiful.

Despite being completely exhausted from all the walking we’d done in the last 24 hours, we went out for one last delicious Italian dinner and saw the sunset over the water. Our journey back to Madrid was uneventful, but long, and I got home at 1:30am.

I learned so much from this trip: From transportation in a foreign country, to navigating uncomfortable situations, to seeing new and beautiful parts of Europe, to tasting the most delicious food I’ve ever had. I’m thankful for these experiences, but it also made me appreciate Madrid that much more; when I stepped off the metro onto my street, I felt like I was coming home.