Threesome

20 July 2006

The traveller’s network came out of the box again last night.

First, let me back track a little. July is unfortunately a quiet month for many local businesses, with schools closed and families already trooping off for their summer holidays. Accordingly, the New Form Care clinic has experienced a slower period, and Gi has been directly impacted with less work.

Dora, the owner, went away for a long weekend with her family. Gi had been feeling dejected about not being busy enough and we talked over the weekend about all the things the clinic should do as a business to counteract some of the predictable July dip in trade. However, despite a growing list of ideas, it was necessary to recognise that without any action all the ideas in the world changed nothing. The other problem is that Naples is a place where things take time…it takes forever for people to start something, and then it takes another lot of forever for anything to be finished.

I suggested to Gi that he needed to stop focusing on helping Dora to improve ‘her’ business through brochures, price lists and advertising and focus more on promoting himself, as a contracted practitioner. To demonstrate, I prepared a voucher / flyer for a 20% discount on a session with Gi. The flyer is in English, with details about his Tui Na treatments, his Australian qualifications and his languages skills, thereby giving them the option to book an appointment at the clinic or call Gi direct (implying that non-Italian speaking clients can be easily accommodated).

I know that a lot of travellers and tourists come to Naples in order to visit Pompeii, Capri and the Amalfi Coast. I remember what it feels like to lug a backpack around for months. People often visit the south of Italy after they’ve travelled through the rest of Europe. Any ‘circling’ of Europe has usually already happened with Paris, Barcelona, Zurich and Berlin, common cities of interest. Once you get to Naples you either have to travel back up the boot, keep heading south, or jump on a ferry to cross the Mediterranean.

As you move through these countries and deal with the foreign languages I always noticed that anything written in English tended to jump off the wall begging to be read. I figured something written in English, offering a discount (backpackers are often on a budget but are prepared to indulge occasionally) for something that might alleviate some of that travel weariness, aches or a lingering health problem might just catch someone’s eye.

After some word smithing we printed off a few and delivered some to the hotel on Via Duomo half a block from the clinic. This place is listed in the Lonely Planet guide. The plan is to go through the accommodation, cafes and internet points listed in the Lonely Planet and drop off flyers wherever we can.

After dropping them off Gi’s initial expectation was that the receptionist would promptly drop them in the bin. However, some fifteen minutes after visiting the Duomo Hotel a friend of a girl who had hurt her neck, spied the flyer. They promptly marched down to the clinic to arrange a treatment with Gi.

Having received an urgent phone call from Dora (having done all of this over the weekend Dora didn’t know about the flyers and was in fact a bit annoyed, and razzed Gi complaining that she was working on more professional material…never mind the fact that we need to make rent this month…) Gi walked in and was greeted with a ‘G’day mate’. This was George, the husband of the ‘flyer spotting’ friend.

Gi came home sprouting off that he wanted to tell me something, but he didn’t want to tell me, his way of implying that something good had happened but I wasn’t to take any credit for it (yeah, right). The brochure had attracted the attention of Marie, and it was her friend Cindy who needed help with her neck. With the clinic less than a block from the hotel, and the price an attracted incentive it seems that my idea worked.

Maybe I should think about working in marketing….or, maybe not.

The three of them are Australians, from Sydney. Gi treated Cindy, of the damaged neck, and she was coming back in the following day. Cindy had slept badly on a fold up bed at the Hotel Duomo and was unable to join Marie, and her husband George for their day trip to Pompeii. Imagine coming all the way to Naples and then not making it to the ancient city of Pompeii only thirty minutes away!

Keen to have an English conversation with someone other than Gi I trotted down to the clinic on Friday to chat with Cindy before her 1pm appointment. After deciding that she was a nice, normal person and someone I would talk to under regular circumstances (I’ve started doing the strangest things to make new friends) I extended an invitation for them to meet us that evening for a local pizza.

The lovely thing about actually living in Naples instead of just visiting is that we are in a position to approach a virtual stranger and decide to spend some time and energy with them. The other delightful thing is the response we get. Travelling is sometimes a lonely or isolated business and getting a bit of an inside view on someone’s life in an extreme city like Naples is an opportunity in itself (I guess). Especially as many travellers have been warned about Naples - the traffic, the petty crime - and tend to not venture into the city itself much, shamefully, as Naples is such an incredible place.

At 8pm we met Cindy and her travelling companions, Marie and George at the front of the Hotel Duomo. The rest of the evening was spent enjoying a pizza at Lombardi’s Pizzeria in the heart of the city, the pizza ready in a speedy eight minutes thanks to the wood burning oven of some 200 years. We wandered around our favourite route taking in the alleyways, the piazzas, palace and castles. The travelling trio seemed genuinely surprised, somewhat unaware of the historical and architectural significance of Naples.

As we exchanged stories we discovered that Cindy is General Manager, Marketing for Vodafone. This explained why her mobile phone was more often than not the focus of her attention. She also has a laptop with roaming internet access, and when I asked, slightly jealously, how much it cost my envy rose when she explained it was a job benefit, and consequently free. I would kill for free, unlimited, roaming internet access…well maybe not kill, but I would mame, or at least leave a large bruise.

They are all of Lebanese background, and thanks to the influence of immigrating grandparents speak fluent Arabic. Marie and George have left their jobs in Sydney and are on a ten month sojourn around Europe. Cindy, on a month’s holiday, has joined them for the Croatia and Italy leg.

While Cindy was receiving a treatment from Gi and resting her neck, George and Marie had spent the day exploring Pompeii. The following day they all took a day trip to Capri. Initially they planned to spend two days in Naples but with a few recommendations it quickly stretched out to a five day stop over.

On Friday we borrowed Rosa’s car and cruised along the Amalfi Coast, stopping in Positano to cool down with a swim. It’s been years since I last visited Amalfi Coast and it was a pleasure to devour the picturesque views of the candy coloured cliff side villages. We took the freeway from Naples to Vietri and then followed the narrow, windy coastal road. Gi drives with confidence and expertise having the benefit of being accustomed to local driving idiosyncrasies and the knowledge of safe, assertive motoring. However, for our novice backseat drivers his ability to wind in and out of the freeway traffic, judge distances to the centimetre and accommodate other less skilled, less attentive drivers created moments of anxiety and the odd squeal.

The scariest part of this road though is confronting a touring coach coming in the opposite direction. The Amalfi Coast is a major tourist attraction and countless coaches cruise the cliff hugging road every day. They are driven by experts, who know which corners they cannot circumnavigate unless it is completely free of other traffic. However, it doesn’t make it any less intimidating to come around a blind corner to find a coach looming, creeping around another bend just in front. It calls for nerves of steel, and lots of deep breathing.

Marie and Cindy are keen sun worshippers, always looking for a day at the beach to work on their tans (already gorgeous with olive skinned toning) interspersed with refreshing dips in the sea. I also love the beach and the water but am still prone to sunburn so after a couple of hours in the sun, and with my sunscreen at an end I threw on my floppy red hat and sarong and wandered around the Positano beach and esplanade in search of postcard photos. It is an inspiring spot to photograph.

Two outcrops of luminous buildings separated by a small valley of green vegetation frame the beach. It’s the colours that make these coastal and island locations so completely gorgeous. Where else in the world do you find people who think nothing of painting their homes apricot, golden yellow, fairy floss pink and the soothing colour of unsalted butter? Turning 360 degrees I surveyed the beach, its dark gritty sand evolving into smooth pebbles as you approached the water. Looking in this direction it was a feast of blue. The sky was truly blue, completely clear, its intensity fading just slightly as it stretched down to greet the water. The Tyrrhenian Sea, an arm of the Mediterranean Sea, reflected the blue of my nieces’ eyes, its calmness occasionally disturbed by a passenger ferry. Dotted with white water craft, the water was chilly compared to the midday heat. The only disappointment was the smell of fuel, in the air and somehow in the water, a by product of being a popular spot easily accessed by boat.

After capturing the ‘Where’s Wally’ crowd on the beach, I photographed an artist painting by the beach, his easel, bare back, straw hat and grey beard the quintessential contrast to his watercolour. A faded pink Bed and Breakfast hanging onto the cliff was snapped, the steel staircase winding up to the front door providing a unique entrance, envious beach access and sweeping views for guests. Positano is well known for its clothing, jewellery and local ceramic, the shops and boutiques a riot of colour and texture. A rack of vibrant tunics and beachwear drew my eye, each garment a piece of artwork reflecting every semi precious gem hue you could imagine. Further up the laneway vendors were selling jewellery, their display trays attached to the rock walls and literally dripping with silver, coral and turquoise.

It was a delightful day; our new friends were suitably impressed with the natural beauty of the coast, asking one question after another about the local lifestyle and our lives. We joked and laughed, the day thick with sarcasm and irony. I became intensely aware of my longing for friends and the daily interaction of friendships as I filled up on the companionship of Cindy, Marie and George. The sightseeing was fun, but it’s the laughter that we shared that will stay with me.

Following the day at Positano they were eager for a second day at the beach and at our suggestion trained off to Sorrento, not returning to Naples until 10pm that night having enjoyed the beach location so much. Having left there luggage at the B&B Cavour they returned to find themselves locked out, and without keys having checked out that morning. Unfortunately the B&B was fully booked so the threesome also needed to find another, the third in Naples, place to sleep. The late hour, exhaustion from a day of swimming and sunning and skipped meal could have resulted in some anxiety but none of them seem particularly concerned.

Someone eventually let them into the small B&B to collect their bags, which were then lugged to the safety of our place while we searched the Lonely Planet Guide for accommodation. They had already contacted four hotels earlier in the day only to be told they were fully booked. It seems that while locals are leaving the city for holidays others are arriving. Hotel Bellini responded to the call for help, and Cindy advised them that they would be there in about an hour. The walk from our place wouldn’t take too long; it was about six blocks away.

I watched as they settled in, relaxing and cooling off, the laughter and teasing picking up from the previous day. Time crept along and I was afraid that Hotel Bellini might also lock its doors for the night. Eventually though we headed off, lugging and dragging backpacks and suitcases over the cobbled streets. The hotel is in the Forcella quarter, an area that Gigi avoids, especially after dark. There was no disguising the fact that we were foreigners though with the luggage and accents echoing off the walls. We passed a balding man standing in the street beside a pile of rubbish, his T-shirt barely stretching over his paunch. He was obviously selling something, something illicit, hashish perhaps or maybe something created in a laboratory.

Rounding the corner we entered Via San Paolo and eagerly searched for the hotel sign. Situated in a building that is 500 years old the hotel has been operating since 1968. The LP guide suggested checking out some of the wall paintings in the uniquely decorated rooms. I poked my head into the room to find a nondescript room with a double bed, small fridge, TV and standing air circulating unit (some Italians’ idea of an air conditioner). The walls were painted cream, with nothing unique or particularly charming to note. The only surprising thing was the location of the third bed, set up on a platform near the ceiling, accessed by a wooden ladder that appeared suspiciously rickety. Lucky George drew the short straw and spent the night shipwrecked up there; the hot summer air rose and settled around him.

The following day, Sunday, was Cindy’s birthday. They planned to travel to Rome to meet other friends and spend the night celebrating. We met them at 11.30am, both girls keen to indulge in a Neapolitan lunch having eaten mostly pizza since their arrival. Gi delivered the bad news that it was too early for restaurants. Their faces fell, and I suspect their stomachs grumbled having missed dinner the night before. We wandered around our local market, enjoying a cappuccino (served lukewarm to enable immediate consumption as you stand at the bar), while Gi bought some fish, fresh bread and small tomatoes to cook for dinner that night with his family.

In search of Cindy’s birthday cake, Marie eventually settled on buying some traditional Sunday sweets and pastries and these were delivered to our fridge before we strolled down Via Foria to a seafood restaurant. Gi ordered for the group and shortly the mussel entrée arrived, followed by spaghetti with mixed seafood and tomatoes baked in paper and butterfly shaped pasta with salmon and cream sauce. The spaghetti dish is always overwhelming, but Marie made a gallant effort working her way through the fresh prawns, mussels and shellfish. It’s a popular local spot for Sunday lunch and we were not the only group taking photos.

Back at our place, the afternoon creeping on, we performed the usual birthday customs with candles, song and cheer. Instead of birthday cake Gi and friends wolfed down the pastries, an addictively sweet ending to lunch. Cindy’s birthday speeches almost reduced us to tears (almost) accompanied by more photos and more laughter.

I suspect it was with reluctance that they said goodbye, trudging back to Hotel Bellini to collect their luggage before making their way to catch the train to Rome.

It was a strangely intense few days with Cindy, Marie and George. It was also very positive, reminding me that sometimes friendships literally fall out of the sky. The sort of connection where the small talk is quickly dispensed with and the dry wit, affectionate insults and repartee is rolled out.

I hope they enjoyed Naples as much as we enjoyed them.