After the Rain

There is something extraordinary about Naples after the rain. The whole city wakes and draws a deep breath, enjoying the temporary submission of the dust, exhaust fumes and pollution. Heads are poked out of windows. The street is surveyed for evidence of last night’s downpour heard through thick walls centuries old. Eyes quickly take in the puddles, the pot holes that are no longer empty, the sodden mass of cardboard piled against the industrial rubbish bins. Looking upwards these same eyes assess the sky for a hint of more rain or perhaps a day of glorious blue.

The weather took a turn about a week ago. It looked like spring had sprung early, or at least earlier than its official start day of 21 March, as heralded by the national news programmes. The warm weather was greeted with confusion as people continued to wear their winter garb, resorting to carrying heavy jackets as the afternoon temperatures steadily rose. Just as I was cursing the undeniably turn of season, a late week of winter arrived, spontaneously, like a toddler whose mood unexpectedly turns from grins of delight to pouting and petulance. The skies turned grey and the rains fell, accompanied by a daily thunderstorm that rolled across the city, shaking the very cobblestones with its discontent.

The temperatures plummeted and I rejoiced as this late winter reprise allowed me to continue wearing my latest London purchase, a bright red winter coat, the wide collar reminiscent of the 60’s style. While most of the locals grumbled about the flooded streets, increase in traffic as people resorted to the dry comfort of their cars, and teaching colleagues complained that they could have stayed in London for such grey misery I was quietly rejoicing. My new red coat greeted each wet morning with a splash of colour, some sass and bucket loads of warmth.

It hasn’t rained today. After a week of showers I was disappointed. The flipside of any post rain in Naples though is the clarity. The city is washed clean, briefly and fleetingly, but it’s as though everything comes into focus. The Vesuvio looks more imposing, its strength and secrets evident in the way it quietly stands guard. The business district sparkles, the incongruous skyscrapers like ill cut gems. Even the snake of expressway seems to be refreshed, offset against strips of green where urban development has stalled or failed. However, post rain it’s always the sky that draws one’s attention. The blue, there is a special crispness to it. The clouds appear whiter, lighter. And combined they remind me of fresh laundry gently flapping, as the sun slowly draws away the moisture, leaving that special smell of blueness and warmth that is only captured by sun dried washing.

After my class this afternoon one of the students took me to the building rooftop to photograph the city in its fleetingly fresh state. To my left was the volcano; in front of me the Centro Direzionale business district. Turning right I see the straight, wide road of Via Poggioreale cut through and my eyes travel up the hill to the Castel Sant’Elmo watching over the city from its Vomero setting. I never tire of views of Naples. The city looks different from every angle, and I’m always discovering something new, a new perspective, a new secret.

I suspect that my red coat is almost ready for the wardrobe, and that soon the city will strip down to summer fashion, as fake tans are exposed, breasts lifted and revealed, as stilettos replace boots and fur lined jackets are swapped for striped polo shirts. I will however keep looking out for the rain, it changes the pace of things and there are always those special moments once the sky clears when you can feel the city taking deep breaths.