Entry 2: First Night in Naples

Naples, 25 July, 9:30 PM local time (2:30 PM Houston)

The flight to Naples is just a puddle jump, really. The pilot must like landing the plane a lot, because he does so three times before we finally stay on the ground. I will learn later that the runway is very short, so landings tend to be hard.

The first great success comes when I see my suitcase on the baggage claim carousel. Those of you who read last year's log of my trip to Spain will recall that the airline lost my luggage, along with the luggage of half the people on my flight, and I had to pick it up the next day. While waiting, however, I become better acquainted with the other Reservists on the flight (a total of three that I can see), at least enough to learn that all of us are staying at the same hotel just down the road.

The command has been kind enough to arrange an escort for me, to check in at the BOQ (the BOQ has no rooms available, and everyone knows this, but you have to at least try to check in -- you receive a Certificate of Non-Availability, which is important to establish the need to pay for a hotel. It should also qualify you for the oh-so-important tax-free government per diem rate of about 70 euros per day) and get me to my hotel. My new companions are not so lucky and have to walk, because the car is not large enough to take more than me. Once I have my CNA, my escort shows me a few of the on-base amenities like the exchange and the fitness center and pool, and shows me where the legal offices are located.

By that time, my traveling companions have checked in the the BOQ and received their own CNAs. I decline the offer of a ride to the hotel, and choose instead to walk with the others. Of course, the others are heading to the auto rental area to pick up their rental cars. I have chosen not to rent a car during my stay, although I am authorized to do so. A good friend from my Reserve unit in Corpus Christi just returned from his own duty in Naples. In the interest of saving the last shred of propriety on these pages, I won't say the exact words he used to describe driving in Naples, but it involves farm animals and is most likely illegal in forty-seven states.

As it turns out, the auto rental office is closed for the day, and my companions can't pick up their cars until tomorrow. Fortunately, the hotel is located just across the street from the base's main gate. We are staying at the Hotel Charming, and when we first see it, I am pretty sure Italy does not have any real "truth in advertising" laws. Of course, you have to understand Naples. Look on a map and you will see Italy is shaped like a boot; every school child knows this. Now imagine it is possible for a boot to have an armpit. Well, that's Naples. According to the information from the Navy's website (which Darcy was thoughtful enough to find and print for me), unemployment in Naples runs at about 30 percent.

It is at this time I learn that everyone else will only be staying at the Charming for one night -- their duty will be performed at a different base, and their command will move them to a different hotel on Monday. Since I will be there for the duration, I am not staying in the hotel proper, but next door at the "Charming Apartments," which have less charm than the hotel. We agree to meet up again around five to get some dinner. The porter, an old man named Gennaro, takes my bags and leads me to my apartment. Pretty much standard -- bed, bathroom (with bidet, which I absolutely refuse to learn how to use), small kitchenette, incredibly small television with only six or seven channels. I shower and brush my teeth, begin to feel vaguely human again after my travels, and start unpacking until it is time to meet up with the group.

At 5:00, I return to the hotel lobby. Remarkably, although I have spent several hours in the company of these people, I have yet to learn their names, a deficiency I now correct. First up are Ben and Liz, from Hawaii. Ben is the Reservist, and Liz is his wife. Although they look younger than me, we will later learn that Liz is actually ten years older, Ben is nearly fifty, and they are new grandparents. Next is Jaime, also from Hawaii; he and Ben are in the same unit. Last is Marcy, the nurse I met earlier at the Rome airport, from San Diego. She drills at the same Naval Hospital at which a good Navy buddy of mine works, and although she doesn't know him well, the name is at least passingly familiar to her. Marcy asks why I didn't bring my wife along as Ben has, and I explain about our recent house-hunting excursions and the better uses to which we could put our money.

Our original plan was that Marcy was to take us to one of her favorite restaurants in Naples (she had been stationed here before, several years ago when she was on active duty), but the fact that no one has a car yet means we are confined to local restaurants. Fortunately, there is one right next door to the hotel. Unfortunately, it does not open for another hour. We therefore head back to the airport as a group so Marcy can exchange some of her dollars for euros. She learns, as we all learned when we made our own exchanges earlier, that there is a "service fee" ranging from 15 to 20% on all currency exchanges at the airport. Arriving back at the hotel, with another twenty minutes before the restaurant opens, we sit in the courtyard and have some pleasant conversation.

Finally, the restaurant opens and we head inside and sit at the largest table. Most tables are for four people, but ours seats six. Before ordering food, we all realize that none of us have had a drink of water since the flight from Rome, despite lugging our luggage around in the afternoon heat. I head out and pick up some bottled mineral waters from the cooler in the front of the restaurant.

Our waitress arrives and we place our orders. Marcy, Jaime and I order caprese salad, which is made with slices of mozzarela cheese and tomatoes, in olive oil with herbs. Caprese is considered something of a local specialty, although word of this appears not to have reached this particular restaurant. I tell everyone about the spoiling I received from eating my father-in-law's homegrown tomatoes. Ben and Liz have a simple iceberg lettuce salad. For dinner Marcy and I order pizzas, Liz and Jaime have pasta (Liz's with small clams, and Jaime's with eggs, of all things), and Ben has calamari. In addition to more water, I order a small carafe of the house wine and Marcy orders a bottle of a separate wine, which I will help her finish.

Conversation varies throughout the meal. Discussing everyone's Navy careers, I learn for the first time that Ben and Jaime are actually enlisted sailors. Since Marcy and I are commissioned officers, this meal has probably put us in technical violation of several regulations concerning officer/enlisted fraternization, but at the moment I just don't care.

Marcy mentions that she noticed the book I am reading and asks if I've read The Da Vinci Code. I tell her I've read it twice; she says she tried to read it and like the plot and the action, but had to put it down halfway through because of its religious implications for her. Jaime mentions that has not read it and asks what it is about. My brief summary that it is essentially a quest for the Holy Grail brings a blank stare. I ask if Jaime knows what the Holy Grail is, and he says no. I ask if he's ever seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail and he says no. I think I make some vague reference to his patriotism and parentage. Marcy mentions that she saw Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and I smile, knowing that a healthy appreciation for Monty Python will stand her in good stead with the future men in her life, as it has for Darcy.

Then she says she hated the movie, and I move my chair a little further away from her. Blasphemer!

After dinner, everyone else decides to turn in, but I am not yet tired. I go up to my room, get my pipe and tobacco, and forego my Da Vinci book for the Franklin biography. I am glad I did; it is surprisingly engaging. I sit in the courtyard under the lights reading and trying to attract the attention of a calico cat, apparently stray, that resides at the hotel. But the cat, knowing a good deal when it has one, is content to follow Gennaro around as he goes about his nightly duties.

Finally, two good bowls of tobacco later, I close my book and head off to bed.