Entry 3 -- Naples July 26

Upon retiring for my first night in Naples, I set my bottle of water on the nightstand for drinking during the night. I now realize that my apartment does not have an alarm clock. I am supposed to report at 7:30 Monday morning. I decide to play it safe and simply check my watch whenever I awake, trusting my jet lag to not let me oversleep. I try to continue my Franklin biography, but it's a losing battle and I am asleep within fifteen minutes of going to bed at roughly ten o'clock.

Upon awakening, I turn on the nightstand light and check my watch. Which shows 7:35. Oops.

Bolt out of bed, figuring in my mind the least amount of morning preparation I can get away with. Shave, yes. Shower, no. I am halfway to putting toothpaste on my brush when I realize I have been holding my watch upside down and it is actually only a little past one in the morning. Really, had I been thinking straight the pitch darkness from outside might have been a clue that it was still night. That, or Vesuvius had blown again. Either way, I wouldn't have to go to work right now.

Back to bed, and after a few more false starts I awaken at 6:00. That's more like it.

Walking to work, I run into last night's group as they head to their check in procedures with their command. I let Marcy know where the legal office is and she promises to stop by after they finish the check-in. I head up to the legal office, introduce myself to the officers and the senior enlisted folks, and change from my civilian clothes to my uniform. There isn't much work for me this first day, so I have nothing to do but wait for the computer guys to get me hooked up with an office with a computer, then I make a quick run through my email and check the latest news.

Marcy shows up a little before noon. She is a little worried -- it seems that her boyfriend in San Diego got a little nervous when he hadn't heard from her, somehow managed to get the number for the Fleet Hospital, and called and left a message for her there. She has been trying to return the call, but can't seem to get a phone that works. I take her back to my office and let her use my phone while a prepare the paperwork for my own check in that afternoon. After several false starts with the calling card (there's something like 20 numbers to enter, not including the actual phone number she wants to call), she reaches a busy signal. This is odd, since it's 3:00 AM in San Diego, and I can tell she is a bit bothered.

We walk to the USO office, where we meet up with Ben and Liz. The USO sponsors low-cost tours of the surrounding attractions, and one of the most popular is the weekly "Naples at Night" tour, which includes dinner, a sightseeing tour, and shopping at various markets near downtown Naples -- which, I will learn, is not nearly as run-down as the area where I am staying. Unfortunately, the tour is so popular that tonight's tour is already sold out. Fortunately, Jaime has made reservations for everyone for next week's tour. Ben, Liz, and I pay for ours (it's 17 euros, which translates roughly to $23); Marcy will not know her work schedule until tomorrow, so she doesn't pay for her reservation yet since it's likely she will have to work next Monday. While the others are paying, I check out the other USO tours and learn that the tours I would most like to take -- to Pompeii and Herculaneum -- are not offered on weekends but only during the week. I will have to clear one work day somehow.

Lunch is at the galley -- reasonable food at an obscenely low price. Couple that with the fact that I should be getting per diem sufficient to pay for meals on the local economy, and I expect to turn a tidy profit this year. Afterwards, we have our afternoon check-in, which consists of passing in a copy of our orders and travel itinerary, so we can be paid for the proper number of days. We learn that, unlike prior years, we will not complete a travel claim while we are here, but will file a full claim when we return to our regular reserve centers back home.

After lunch we make plans to meet up for dinner again. Since the others are at a different hotel some distance away, Marcy offers to pick me up later in the evening, after which we will meet up with everyone else. We part for the time being and I head to the exchange to pick up a travel alarm clock. I am pleasantly surprised to find that the exchange sells the same brand of Sangria I drank constantly in Spain last year. Since my apartment has a mini-fridge, I may need to stock up.

I see some clients during the afternoon -- the command, knowing my estate planning expertise, had let it be known to the area senior officers that Iam available, and they intend to fill my plate with estate planning cases they might not otherwise handle. From conversations with the other judge advocates, it is clear they want to learn more. Fortunately, my laptop contains my estate planning seminar presentation, and I verify that there is a PowerPoint projector for my use.

The work day finishes around 4:30, but I stay behind for a little while longer checking up on news and answering questions posted to the FindLaw message boards, which I make a policy to do every day in Houston. As I am leaving (having changed back to my civilian clothes), it begins to drizzle -- fortunately not enough to soak me, or even to put my pipe out. Unlike Houston at this time of year, the rain helps cools the air. Back at the apartment, I take a quick shower and settle on the bed to read more Franklin.

Marcy and Jaime stop by at 7:30. Since everyone who wanted a rental car now has one, we are free to try Marcy's recommended restaurant. We drive quite a ways in rush hour traffic, and I can certainly agree with my friend's anatomical assessment of Italian driving. It's not just the drivers; the entire transportation infrastructure seems geared for poor driving habits. The lane markers on the road, when they exist at all, appear to be painted on at random (and often conflicting) widths, giving the impression that lanes are merely a suggestion. It is a rare car that does not sport several dings or broken mirrors or lights. It is an even rarer car that is what Americans would consider normal sized. The majority of cars are of a size that makes a Mini Cooper look like a Hummer in comparison. The funniest is the Smart car, which appears to be little more than a 2-person passenger compartment with wheels. I honestly can't see any place where a decent engine would fit. I am told the mileage is great on Smart cars (60 mpg), and I can see why -- you don't have to fill up much when you're too embarrassed to drive.

In response to my questions, Marcy confirms that she was finally able to get in touch with her beau and all is well.

At the restaurant we again order caprese salad, and this time everyone orders pasta with either clams or mussels. Jaime and I split a bottle of the house wine, and Ben and Marcy each indulge in a small glass as well. The caprese is better than what we had last night, but the tomatoes still look like it's late in the season. We begin to speculate whether the restaurants save the best tomatoes for the Italians, who can tell the difference, and leave the inferior specimens for the Americans, who by and large don't know any better than what's available at the local supermarket. Marcy offers the information that caprese is made with a special mozzarella cheese made from buffalo milk, that is not generally available in the states, so it will be impossible to duplicate the recipe at home. She also mentions that, because of the process used to make the cheese, it should not be eaten by pregnant women. I make a mental note; with any luck this information may be useful to me in the near future.

It's getting close to 10:00 when dinner is finally over. Ben and Jaime found out today that their duty will be performed at the same base where I work, so they are going to try and get new rooms back at the Charming. Personally, I would have thought the Navy would tell them this before they gave up their old rooms, but that's just me. Since Ben, Liz and Jaime are heading back my way, it doesn't make sense for Marcy to drive me back, so we make our goodbyes for the evening, and I leave my work number with Marcy so she can contact me when tomorrow night's plans are finalized. I ride back with Ben, Liz and Jaime, and the trip is much quicker at this time of night. Still, considering the distance makes me all the more grateful for Marcy's generosity in picking me up and including me in their plans, which I hope will last for the two weeks I am here, although I expect and fear it will not.