Day 43 - [N]aples
Under ground and by the sea
Mollie and Luke had told me of an adventure they were planning for today, visiting the Naples Underground. I’d heard of this attraction and they sold me on trying to visit it. I figured I would buy a ticket first thing in the morning, probably for later in the day, and then do some other touristing. Along with my ticket to visit Capella Sansevero at 2 pm that was going to fill out my day quite a bit. I thought that I had better visit the port, as it’s a key attribute of Naples and its history. I thought that might be a pretty good day of wandering around the city.
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I had a slow morning, being quite tired after a long day yesterday and the usual poor night’s sleep. I left the flat in good time to be at Napoli Sotterranea when it opened at 10 am. I was waiting in line when Mollie and Luke called my name. They were in the ‘got a ticket’ line. We chatted for a while as we waited for the place to open. In due course, the pre-paid tickets were all admitted, in two groups – Italian-speakers, and English-speakers. Then came the turn of the un-ticketed, who all bought a ticket at the gate and then, depending on your language preference, turned left (Italian) or right (English) and headed down to wait as a tour group formed in front of a waiting tour guide. When a suitable number of people had accumulated, the tour guide led everyone down into the underground. Our first stop was at 45m underground in a huge cavern, carved by hand from the natural rock by Greeks, and then expanded by Romans.
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The guide explained that the Greeks first carved out these aquaducts to stabilise the water supply to Naples. The area is relatively soft and porous volcanic rock and the Greeks lined the aquaducts with plaster to prevent the water being lost. Apparently, the Romans then expanded the scale of the aquaducts, though I’m not sure why because they didn’t increase the scale of the water-holding, just the scale of the caverns (as I understood the brief presentation). Greeks and Romans would lower amphora on ropes down wells over the aquaduct to draw water from these guaranteed sources. Later (18th or 19th century), the water supply to Naples was established by more conventional means and the wells (bar one or two for ventilation) were sealed up. In World War II, the aquaduct system was used as a bomb shelter, and many displays paid tribute to that war use.
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As the tour unfolded, the guide would move us in a group between different caverns and make some remarks explaining aspects of the aquaduct system that were illustrated by the cavern in question. The tour included moving through some water channels between caverns that were deliberately narrow to maintain water pressure (back in the day). This part of the tour involved using your phone torch to light the way. The assumption that everyone had a flashlight (on their phone) was inherent and unstated. It was a bit creepy, but nothing like some awkward cave passages that I’ve forced my way through, not least because the channels were carved from very stable rock. There is no prospect of a cave in unless Vesuvius erupted and the attendant earthquakes got involved. It was a fascinating tour of the cavern system, but there wasn’t much information content, as you might expect.
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The second half of the underground tour (which started after the obligatory stair climb back to the surface) involved walking about 200m around Naples streets (essentially around the second church that I showed above) to an unremarkable door. The guide led us through the door into a small ground floor apartment, which had huge arched walls. The guide explained that archaeologists had been hunting for the huge greco-roman amphitheatre that was known to be in this immediate vicinity but had been completely built over. Apparently, they literally went door to door in the area until they came across this apartment. The arches and thick walls were a dead giveaway that it was part of the original theatre building. But which part, and where was the rest of it? The story goes that they looked all around to find a way to get into more of the theatre and finally discovered that there was a ‘secret’ trapdoor, revealed by the moveable bed. He then moved the bed, revealing the obvious trapdoor, and down the rabbit hole we went. Fascinating to be in an ancient building that is literally had modern residences built throughout it. (On reflection, a very Neopolitan thing to do, and not un-Italian either, given all the other crowding of ancient monuments by more-modern building.)
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I’ve included the last picture because it was in front of this panel that the guide explained the value of this construction technique, which I’d first noted in Herculaneum and then again in Pompeii. Apparently, the tiles are actually very long, wall-thick. The diamond blocks are actually long rods and are made from soft, volcanic rock. The diamond-rod infill is apparently relatively flexible (while the tiles are not). When an earthquake affects this construction, the lattice absorbs the vibration and prevents cracks running down the whole wall. The continued existence of this much of the theatre after all this time was offered as evidence that it’s an effective technique; Naples is (still) a geologically active area.
After the very interesting underground and theatre tour, I was on my own for a few hours before needing to be back to almost the same spot for my Capella tour at 2:00 pm. I decided to head for the port, thinking I could get lunch somewhere with a view over the port/harbour and after looking over the maritime sights, wind my way back to my 2 o’clock appointment through some other part of Naples. As I was wandering, I was looking out for all the things to see. A lot of them turned out to be churches. I think it was Luca who had said that Naples had a thousand churches. They are everywhere, and all of them quite grand.
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I walked down to the harbour pretty directly (noting that a long climb was in my future) to discover that, at least in the part of the huge harbour front that I was, there wasn’t a classical European corniche, or similar waterfront boulevard, filled with restaurants, etc. I mean, the big street that ran along the harbour front was lined with buildings, and there were a few restaurants, but they were on the wrong side of a busy highway, with industrial lots opposite on the waterfront. It was not really convivial to promenading enjoying the sea air. Maybe some other part of the massive harbour that Naples has its port in was like that, but where I was (at the ancient city) it was very ‘modern commercial’. I picked a restaurant on Google Maps from its star rating between where I had popped out and the main port passenger terminal, which was shown as a tourist photo spot, and walked along the main road. The more I walked, the less touristy it became and I ended up picking a cafe near the port terminal that looked modern. It was quite suitable for a light lunch before heading on.
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After lunch, I walked down to the port terminal, which proved to be the passenger terminal (rather than the cargo terminal). Docked were two enormous cruise ships. Having just cruised on a long river boat, the cruise ship shown here was unbelieveably big. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these things close up before. I found it just mind-blowing how big this craft is. I’ve tried to show it against the passenger terminal, which is pretty impressive building in its own right, for scale. I walked into the passenger terminal hoping to get to the other end and take some photos of the harbour from the end of the dock/pier. I got out the other side of the terminal building and was heading into a carpark there to get to the edge when I was accosted by a policeman who said, “you can’t go there. Even to just take photos.” Not wanting to get in trouble, I turned on my heel and started back. Then I thought, I should get a photo anyway, as I’ll not be getting close to the water again. I went back and asked the policeman if I could stand there, beside the little watchman’s hut and take a photo (as I wasn’t sure if the photo was the problem or the trespassing). It took some consultation with the parking attendant, but he agreed. I’m glad I did, because the photo of Vesuvius over the harbour is pretty good, even with all the cars parked in the foreground.
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Having attained the visit to the harbour (as well as I was likely to be able to), I turned back up into Naples. Coincidentally, I re-entered the city on the line of the original port entry. (Perhaps, unknowingly rather than coincidentally.) I walked up into the main square, passed the castle through the new pedestrian tunnel that had been built to provide convenient access to the metro that Naples has (reasonably recently) established. I photographed the two explanatory boards without reading them but have since discovered that they outline that the large building elements that I would pass (and photograph) were revealed during the construction of the subway, and I think they revealed a part of the castle fortifications that had been forgotten until they were rediscovered. (I’ll read the signs more carefully soon.) The pedestrian tunnel was very modern and clean – a very pleasant walk – and I popped out right up in the Piazza Municipio. I had to back-track a bit to get to the Castel Nuovo, which was my target, but it wasn’t a lot out of my way because a lot of the area around the castle was fenced off for ongoing repairs/construction/discovery.
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Castel Nuovo – the new castle – is medieval; but in Naples, that’s new, of course. It’s a huge pile of stone towers and curtain walls, fearsomely impregnable. These days it holds temporary exhibition spaces, and the municipal museum. I only discovered the second bit as I was leaving and didn’t feel that I had enough time to properly consider it. I had already spent my time reviewing several galleries of an art exhibition that did not speak to me. I’m a bit disappointed about that.
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The exhibition spaces were all pretty impressive, as medieval halls and chambers often are. A ‘ground’ floor room was floored in glass and you could see the undercroft of the castle, including revealed burials. Another space was the former chapel. The glory of the room overwhelmed the modern art installation of huge plaster statue heads. Up stairs, in former living spaces (I believe), the artist’s work was displayed in the sombre but sumptuous medieval rooms. The art was garish, largely figurative, abstract(ish) work on paint and on ceramics. It didn’t speak to me really, though a couple of pieces were amusing. In a large reception hall of the castle, they’ve set up a court and when I visited, it seems a convention or seminar or workshop of future-thinking young people had just finished a convocation. I have to say, I’m jealous of the idea that they got to hold their meeting in such a glorious space.
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It was time to set off back to the Capella Sansevero to be sure to be there in time for my booking. I crossed Piazza Municipio and walked up a main boulevard following Google’s instructions. I noticed (and photographed) that this part of the city was in much better repair and presentation than most of the city that I’d seen. I’ve developed the view that Neopolitans don’t place a lot of priority on civic pride, focusing more on living their lives (I guess). However, much of the city that I experienced on this (short) walk, was much more prestigious. Eventually, I turned up a street that I recognised. It was the street on which I had dinner the first night I was in Naples. I knew where I was! I was able to then walk to the Capella almost without checking with Google again, as the main path I had to take was the street that ran right past my AirBNB’s laneway.
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I got to the Capella Sansevero about 15 minutes before my booked time (2 pm) and there was no queue. I hastily got into the queuing space and when I got to the door the doorman said “what time?” I said, “2.” He said, “Ok, Go in.” I was greeted inside the capella by a woman who patiently explained in English that I was not to touch anything, and no photos or videos at all; “do not use your phone at all.” I was a bit disappointed about that, but not entirely surprised. My disappointment grew immeasurably as soon as I started to look at the art inside the quite small chapel. Some of it is indescribably wonderful. All of it is eye-watering. The statuary is exquisite. The frescos and ceiling art is rich and fascinating. They have several large boards with explanations of what you are seeing and who is responsible. The first one that I read pointed out three particular pieces of note, and they were truly the peak of this astonishing collection of art.
- Veiled Christ
- Easily the most famous piece in the chapel – is truly magnificent; essentially perfect as a piece of sculpture. As I looked at it, I had to keep reminding myself that it was marble and not the materials that it was representing. The figure of Christ was extraordinary. It truly looked like you were looking at the body through a veil. However, I was also astonished by the way the artist – Giuseppe Sanmartino – had presented the mattress that Christ lay on and the blanket/rug under that. The subtle folds in the rug, including a corner that was trapped, caught under the mattress, and its embroidered and tasselled border were perfectly textile-like. I am pretty sure that I would never look at this marble artwork and ever get used to the idea that it’s entirely marble. A perfect presentation of the subject.
- The Disinchantment
- This statue group is much more conventional in the sense that it doesn’t have the finish of Veiled Christ, nor the ‘reality’ of it. However, it demonstrates an equivalent mastery of sculpture technique, primarily because of the huge net that wraps around the central figure. Apparently, the piece depicts a man freeing himself of sin, represented by a net (think, fishing net made of cord), assisted by a cherub and the holy book. The whole piece is exquisite but the most striking thing to my eye was that the net looked like it simply couldn&rsqou;t be marble. It was too realistic and sat on the figure exactly as you would expect a real net to do, with natural folds and droops. This work by Francesco Queirolo is another example of sculpture at a peak of realism. Unforgettable.
- Glory in Paradise – The Vault
- The painted ceiling is astonishing. A richly colourful depiction of Christ (in metaphor as a dove) exalting the heavens. Apparently, the paints used were invented by the patron/sponsor of the chapel – Raimondo de Sangro – a famous scientist, inventor, artist, and patron, and being oil-based (unique at the time, I believe) have not darkened since they were first applied. It is a glorious fresco; a feast for the eyes.
The rest of the work in the chapel was also magnificent. Even the lowliest of the portrait sculptures were fine works in themselves. It is an astonishing collection of exceptional art. The collection also includes two models – a man and a woman – that are skeletons upon which are hung complete replicas of the circulatory systems of each person. Apparently, no one knows how they were made, or even what they are made from. But they are intricate, exact and accurate. They are evidence of de Sangro’s prodigious scientific skills. As I left the chapel I had to buy a guide book that explained everything that I’d seen and had pictures of them as well. Ask me to show it to you when we next meet.
After the visit to the Capella Sansevero, I found a bar and sat for a while enjoying a glass of wine and the accompanying snacks. I spent some time processing the experience I had just had. It was a lot. The wine helped. Once I was settled, I headed back to the AirBNB to rest before heading out to dinner with Mollie and Luke.
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At the appointed time, I walked down to the Taverna dell’arte, recommended by my AirBNB host for authentic Neopolitan food, to meet Mollie and Luke. I got there just as they were opening (as planned) and secured a table outside (inside being fully-booked). Mollie and Luke arrived shortly after and we had a wonderful meal, provided with excellent, welcoming service. The presentation of the dishes was immaculate. All of the food was wonderful. The wine recommended by the waiter was local and fabulous. It was a really first-class dining experience. Mollie and Luke told me of their day and I told them of mine, and we talked about a range of things, all of which went to a really enjoyable meal. At one stage, the waiter asked if we were father and children, which was very funny (but clearly possible in his eyes, of course). After we had finished our cherry grappa digestif, the chef came out and refilled our glasses, gratis. Later, when our waiter was taking a picture of us on request, I commented that he was clearly very practiced at getting a good shot. He said, “Not really, but I have a wife.” The last photo is our reaction to that.
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| Daily facts: Location: [N]aples Temp: 18 Weather: Sunny, with patches of cloud |
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