The Train to Naples Through New Eyes and on to Florence

Plans change quickly in Italy, almost as fast as an Italian man undresses you with his eyes.  Everything is fluid like water which draws me into its current shifting me about. Our extra day in Sorrento led us to decide to go to Florence instead of Rome.

Once again we drag our bags down the cobblestone streets of Sorrento to the train station bumping along.  We are hoping for a cappuccino and roll at our favorite place.  We pass many coffee bars and arrive to find ours is closed, Sunday.  We have to settle for second best.

The train to Naples thrashes you about forcing you to awake to what is outside and what you are facing.

It is a different ride into Naples this time.  I am observing on my own without other people's judgments.  Jorge had been appalled by the smell and rundown buildings and his influence made me jaded during the first two trips.  This time is different.  We are on the first train out and it is clean but that is not the only difference.  I am different.  I have embraced, once again, people and all their differences.  It will already be a different trip.

Gypsies board the train and begin playing beautiful, energetic music.  Elida and I dance in our seats appreciating it all.  Two Italian me are in the same car with the musicians and they let go of their inhibitions dancing and enjoying life.  They are stepping, moving their shoulders and smiling.  One holds my stare more than once.  He is delicious, vibrant and happy in all his Italian glory.  I love that he is letting it all hang out on the train just like Elida and I.  As the gypsies pass by we give them money so appreciative of the beauty they brought to the train ride.

As we travel the tracks I no longer see the broken down buildings as a sign of ugliness but of hope for the future.  They will restore these things or they will rebuild when they are needed.  The colors of the buildings are vibrant yellows and pinks, a striking contrast against the blue sky and sea. Mt. Vesuvius looms in the distance and I vow to come back and climb her.  The graffiti is at its best in Italian train stations, expressions of the young spirits of the area.  The tomatoes, lemons, oranges, apricots, grapevines and figs are tucked between the rundown buildings and houses next to the tracks but they are wonderful with their giant wooden pergolas and trellises black against the bright green foliage. None of the posts are straight.  They are not the same height and the joints are imperfect but they have beauty nonetheless much like a woman or man for that matter. It is all a matter of perspective.  Sometimes things don't fit perfectly, we are shaped differently by our experiences but we are each beautiful in our own uniqueness.

My balance has been regained in Italy both literally and figuratively.  I've done yoga almost every morning, Elida joined me most days.  In recent weeks prior to my trip the balancing postures had been difficult, but now they come with ease.  My perspective has also been balanced.  I have once again regained a new love for the life I have.  Aldo's comment resonates in my soul and I smile.  It is hard to say goodbye to southern Italy and lives lived with such passion but we arrive in Naples and continue on.

We barely have time for an espresso in the station in Naples and I look out at the city.  I point out the hill where we had stood looking down at Naples in all of its magnificence.  Francesco showed us a piece of beauty and forced us to have a shift in our thinking.  Life too shifts, changing and bringing about the most unexpected experiences.

We board the train headed to Rome and then on to Florence.  This train is sophisticated and elegant, very Italian.  The seats are perfectly sized with storage between each set of four.  Airlines should think of using this setup, it is much more efficient and comfortable.  The overhead compartments are large and accommodating.  The train is styled like you would expect from an Italian fast train, sleek like the skin of the Mediterranean men,seats hold your body perfectly like the appreciative eyes as they stare and the windows are large in order to take in the beauty that passes by at lightning speed.  The tables are the perfect height for writing and I take advantage.

We pass by small villages, farms, hilltop towns and larger cities. At last we arrive in Rome and I am a little sad we will not be staying.  We have enough time in the station to grab an espresso and juice.  We are also able to research my transportation to the airport when I have to return to Rome for my flight.  It will be expensive to get to the airport so early in the morning, just as it was last year.  Discouraging.
Back on the train we travel north and the scenery begins to change; blazing green hills, Cyprus trees stretching to the sky, winding rivers, hilltop castles and stunning vineyards.

We arrive in Florence in just over an hour from Rome, well worth the $43 Euro spent.  We have traveled less than half the day and arrive with enough time to rest and explore.  Florence is hot, humid and a whole different Italy.  I am in culture shock.  We went from one kind of energy to another; vibrant and edgy to sophisticated and mellow. Abundant extravagance with grandiose structures, Florence is wealthy and it shows.

There is nothing that isn't elegantly adorned from store front windows to bridges to palaces laden with gold-leaf. This place is different and yet another shift takes place in my heart and soul.  I cannot respond to Florence the same way I responded to Sorrento and Naples.  My thinking has to change.

The gypsy musicians tucked in the doorway on the train to Naples.