GypsySpirit As I travel the world, I often encounter places burdened by outdated reputations. These places, once perhaps deserving of their negative image, have evolved drastically, yet the old stories persist, passed down through generations of hearsay. It’s as if the world froze in time, refusing to acknowledge the present reality.
This phenomenon isn’t unique to any one region; I’ve witnessed it in diverse corners of the globe, from the vibrant neighborhood of Little Africa in Rio de Janeiro to, closer to home, the island of my birth, Puerto Rico, and various locations within the US. In the US, these negatively stereotyped locations often correlate with communities of color or “minorities” as they call us– a term that, while commonly used, subtly reinforces a power imbalance, given that globally, people of color are actually the majority. Words, as we know, wield immense power, and their use is often strategic.
My recent trip to Italy perfectly illustrates the outdated reputation concept. Initially, I had little planned beyond flying into Milan. However, the more I researched Milan, the less it appealed to me. Call it a sign from the universe, but a YouTube deep dive (something I usually avoid to preserve the magic of first-time experiences) and conversations with people who had been there painted a picture of a “cold” and superficial city. I decided to reroute my trip.
A flight change landed me in Rome, geographically positioned to allow for spontaneous exploration. While in Rome, Naples, just a few hours away, piqued my interest. But the warnings I received about Naples were relentless. I was told to be wary of robbery, particularly as a solo female traveler. Rome, they insisted, was vastly superior.
Rome, while beautiful, is a major city. I’m in my late 40s, and while I appreciate convenience, I prioritize peace and nature. Plus, the unfriendly and scam-prone taxi drivers of Rome left a sour taste. The patriarchal undercurrent in Italy, the birthplace of Catholicism, was also palpable—a stark reminder of how deeply ingrained the subjugation of women is in some cultures. This wasn’t a judgment, but an observation – a recognition of the historical and cultural context. Italians, after all, have a strong historical presence in Puerto Rico, a legacy of colonialism and the transatlantic slave trade. This shared history, while complex and often painful, creates a unique connection.
Then I remembered a blog post, a passionate ode to Naples. The author described a city of contrasts: breathtaking beauty juxtaposed with graffiti and trash, world-class cuisine alongside, shall we say, “characterful” locals. It was this contrast, this raw authenticity, that drew me in. I wish I could credit the blog post directly; if anyone recognizes it, please let me know!
The whispers of “to-die-for” food sealed the deal. I’m a sucker for culinary adventures. “People either love it or hate it,” one person told me, perfectly encapsulating the city’s polarizing reputation.
My three-day stay in Naples was whirlwind affair. A missed a tour due to a faulty taxi app (lesson learned: always ask your host for help!) and sheer exhaustion meant I only scratched the surface. I squeezed in a food tour and a Vespa tour, the latter offering stunning views of the bay.
Arriving by train from Rome, I was struck by the difference in energy. Naples was alive, vibrant, and yes, a little rough around the edges. The people, especially the women, were stylish and expressive. The Spanish castles, remnants of a bygone era, stood as silent witnesses to the city’s rich history. And the resemblance between Neapolitans and Puerto Ricans was uncanny! As one local at Mount Vesuvius remarked, “People from Naples look more like Puerto Ricans than they do like other Italians.”
My journey to Naples was serendipitous. A tarot reading mentioning “Italy” and “Naples” set the course. Italy, with its quiet charm and (at times) intense stares, was a fascinating experience. Out of all the cities I visited, Naples pulsed with the most life. Its bay, reminiscent of the San Francisco Bay Area, offered the most spectacular views I encountered in Italy (though I sadly missed Positano). The romantic spirit of Naples was evident in the young men carrying roses. When I asked my host about it, thinking that it was a special occassion of some sort he asked, “don’t the men do this in Puerto Rico?” Oh, I thought, no special occasion. Napoleans are die-hard romantics.
My AirBnB, nestled in the mountains, provided tranquility and stunning ocean vistas. Despite the grit and the garbage in the city center, I fell in firmly in the “love” camp. As my host quipped about the Roman’s negative opinions of Naples: “They’re just jealous.” And added something along the lines of the Romans being afraid Napoleans take their glory.
Naples, with its captivating blend of beauty, history, and raw energy, is a city that deserves to be experienced firsthand. It’s a reminder that reputations, like outdated maps, can lead us astray. Naples is more than its past; it’s a living, breathing testament to resilience, culture, and the enduring power of the human spirit. And yes, the food is heavenly.
Subscribe so you can keep up with my travels around the world. Next I will talk about Pompeii, Herculaneum, Sorrento, the islands of Procida, Ischia, and Sicily. I left Italy and headed to Greece. So much to share!
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