A trip to Southern Italy, Part II

Day 2

While giving us very useful advice on what to do and see in Naples, Nicolas scribbled so much information on our map that it was rendered almost unusable. An idea would come to him and somewhere on the map he'd write a name, draw an arrow, circle an area, list what kind of fish to eat or what kind of wine to avoid, which museums were worthwhile... In short, he was an overflowing fountain of information, and with the options presented us, we felt badly we had only two days to visit around Naples.

One of the pieces of advice that we did manage was to visit the island of Procida, visible from Giovanna's spacious and elegant balcony. We were advised that the island, while not the most spectacular in terms of scenery, had resisted the onslaught of tourism and retained its age-old tradition of fishermen leaving every morning and returning with their catch in the evening. There was also a lovely abbey to visit.

To get to Procida, we first took the slowest train in the history of locomotion from Naples to the end station Pouzoulli, and then hoofed it down to the harbor. When we arrived, a huge ferry was being loaded with vans and trucks. We approached the harried head honcho and asked if we could take his boat out to Procida.

"No! No space," he barked, shooing us out of the way of an onloading semi-truck.

Disconcerted, we lingered around for a few moments before deciding to approach someone else. The second man welcomed us aboard and asked for our tickets. We didn't have any. He pointed to the ticket kiosk about a kilometer away and then looked at his watch. We'd never make it. He talked to the head honcho, who looked us over and then waved us aboard. Confused, we looked at the ticket-taker, who waved us past.

Score one for the stupid tourists - we got a free boat ride!

The most telling point regarding the lack of tourists on Procida came when we got off the ferry in its harbor. We were the only two to disembark, and the head honcho yelled at us in a commanding voice – "Hey, this is Procida, not Ischia!"

"Si, si, si," we yelled back. Seems we were in the right place if we wanted some peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, it was a bit too quiet when we got there. All the stores lining the harbor were closed for their siesta, so we headed to the beach and overpaid for some beachchairs on the seaside. I pushed the deal through because I didn't want to sit on the sand with just one towel between us, and the price we paid – €16 for two hours – still gets Jarmilka all fired up.

We rested on the beach for a couple hours and then headed back to the harbor to rent a scooter. It was such a simple affair – no security deposit, no credit card number – just my driver's license number and the cash up front. The woman asked €25 for two hours, but I gave her the silent treatment for a moment and she countered with €20. (A very cool thing about Italy – most prices are open to negotiation.)

Boom, we had wheels.

We headed up the cobbled streets and away from the harbor, wrong-turning our way through historic districts hundreds of years old, children running in front of us, old men and women watching the goings-on from their stoops beside the road, stray dogs, dented cars, girls dressed up for a stroll, all in the late-afternoon heat of southern Italy.

The Abbey of San. Michel, the archangel, lies at the top of a very steep, two-sided cliff overlooking the sea. And though our scooter was relatively powerful, it almost petered out when faced with the last climb (Jarmila almost had to bail off).

We ignored the no entrance sign (only with a permit could motor vehicles pass) and were rewarded with a trip into the past. The Abbey, which dates from 1026, has been continuously inhabited since then, a fact illustrated by the trappings of both antiquity and modernity - the buildings are roughly hewn but wondrous, and the cobbled streets are dotted with cars and scooters. A woman carrying a basket of laundry ambled by, chatting away on a mobile phone.

There were satellite dishes on balconies and on the sides of buildings.

We found an overlook and sparred over who would get to take photos, and then we had to hustle to get the 20:30 ferry back to the mainland.

The sunset was divine, and once we arrived back at Giovanna's, Nicolas broke out his coveted white wine and we enjoyed a lovely evening of conversation before bedtime.