"How do you like my apartment?" my host asked over dinner last night.
"Your apartment is the kind of place that makes me want to settle down. So I can make one like it."
Antonio has a kitchen/dinning room on his roof and a perfect patio for yoga. The view of Naples is stunning by day and the lights from the apartments built into the hillside are romantic by night.
Cactus and various shrubbery decorate the tiled patio. A basketball hoop is drilled into the laundry room wall to my left. Reclining patio chairs with a wooden table take up the space behind me.
Honestly speaking, I had been a little nervous about my one day stay with Antonio. Due to my negative experience in Munich, I've become much more wary about couchsurfing and more skeptical about certain motivations. I decided to stay with Antonio because I liked the look of his profile picture (pictures tell a LOT) and because he sent me a personal message wherein he expressed enthusiasm for my trip. However, I was a smidgeon uneasy because he didn't have a lot of references and I didn't really know what I was getting myself into.
But I was lucky and ended up getting myself into something wonderful. A cheerful Antonio met me in front of 6 Small Rooms a couple minutes after 18:00 and led me through the historical district to his apartment.
This is going to be one of the memorable experiences.
Antonio went far out of his way to help me feel comfortable in his home. After dropping off my bags and giving me a brief tour, we strolled through Naples in search of gluten-free pizza. I was sure it didn't exist (because I'd already looked for it online and had only found gluten-free pizza in Naples, FL), but after over an hour of popping in and out of restaurants, we finally found our dinner.
And it was divine.
Raw tomatoes, fresh buffalo mozzarella and basil. Olive oil. Italian magic.
Antonio was an energizing person to be around. The ghastly weather and incessantly cold feet had left me feeling drained and sick, but one gluten-free pizza, two pieces of fresh mozzarella, a glass of wine and an evening with Antonio completely rejuvenated my spirits.
Sunday was wet. Again.
"It is only wet like this in Naples once a year," Antonio told me when I commented on the weather.
"I picked the best time to visit, then," I flashed a wry grin.
We had hoped to be able to practice yoga on the patio, but the rain forced us to the living room downstairs. It was a brief, introductory lesson, but it felt affirming and revitalizing to be able to share yoga again.
Breakfast was yogurt, fruit, milk and a perfectly prepared coffee. We listened to Italian music and I let my gaze linger on the world map posted on the wall over Antonio's DVD collection.
So many places.
After clearing the table, we climbed into the car and drove off to a nearby spa. Antonio pointed out a few famous landmarks and gave me advice on places in Italy to visit in the future.
The spa consisted of several sauna rooms, a very hot indoor pool, a relatively hot, man-made outdoor pool, and a mildly warm pool shaped by the Romans thousands of years ago. The pool shaped by the Romans contained very bold baby fish that busily nibbled my skin. It was a bizarre sensation. I felt like I was being attacked by hundreds of adorable piranhas and I behaved like such a kid -- scooping them up in cupped hands and letting the cute man-eaters jump through my fingers back into the lukewarm water.
Antonio walked with me to Piazza Dante, where I met my next host.
Raman.
I'd decided to stay with Raman because he had dozens of positive references and I'm really interested in Indian culture. He's a biologist who's lived in Italy for the last seven years, and spends his life studying how proteins enter and exit cells. His English is impeccable and it's refreshing to be understood even when my tongue gets lazy and I substitute ds for ts.
I asked him about some of the cultural differences between Italy and India.
"People in India are more relaxed. Things aren't such a big deal. Europe is much more competitive," Raman told me in his singsong accent.
I wondered what he would think of Germany.
"Mockery. People mock in Europe. We would never do this in India. We fight, but we do not mock."
"In Europe, it seems to be a game. People "take the piss" out of each other for fun. If all parties present know the rules, people just have a great time."
"But if people don't know the rules, it can be used as a form of domination."
"That's true. I never know how to play this game. I just watch."
We went on a walk down to the coast and continued the cultural conversation.
"The food was hard to adjust to. When I first came here, I thought it had no flavor --"
"Yeah, because you have so many different spices in Indian food!" I rudely interrupted as I caught on, thinking about the beautifully simplicity of Italian food when compared to rich, heavily flavored Indian food.
"I am a vegetarian and asked for the vegetarian option on the menu. The server brought me a plate of four cheeses. I said, "what is this?" and had to cover the plate with salt and pepper to give the cheese taste. They were so offended."
I nodded slowly, understanding how completely Italians would be offended by this unforgivable effrontery, "I bet."
"Now I appreciate the food."
Raman told me joke after joke about Indian philosophers and we settled into an easy stride and an easier conversation. I was disappointed when we had to turn around and walk back so that he could keep his Skype date with his parents (family is supremely important in India), but thrilled at the thought that I'd get to keep picking his brain for the next few days.
As I hadn't had time earlier to cook bananas foster for Antonio, we met at 19:30 in Piazza Dante for dinner together. He prepared dorado with olive oil, white wine, tomatoes and parsley (a dish that translates into "crazy water") and served mozzarella with carrots, balsamic vinegar and olive oil.
We drank local white wine, and as Antonio is well-versed in wine and enjoys pairing it properly, the meal melded beautifully. Roasted chestnuts followed (only one exploded in the oven), and then I prepared my bananas foster.
Everyone loves it when I light the alcohol on fire.
Bananas foster finished and extra bites of ice cream guiltily consumed, Antonio poured the sweet dessert wine from (if I remember properly) the Umbria region of Italy. As I'd told my new Italian friend that Limoncello and Grappa were both on my challenge list for Italy, he followed the dessert wine with shots of both. As I'd expressed an inordinate enthusiasm for chocolate earlier in the evening, he finished the meal with a shot of chocolate liqueur. Which was even better than Nutella.
I will be coming back to Naples. I will SO be coming back to Naples.
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