lost in the south of italy

jan 19-20, 2025

i left fra’s apartment at 2:00 a.m. while the city was still asleep, starting a trip that had been planned only days earlier and almost entirely on impulse. an old housemate and i decided we wanted to see Naples and, if we could manage it, Pompeii. we had no real plan for transportation, no clear itinerary, and barely any sleep. all we had was curiosity and a shared willingness to figure things out as we went. by 4:00 a.m. we were at the airport, boarding our flight in a haze. after an hour and a half, we landed in naples feeling disoriented and exhausted. the moment we stepped outside, the chaos began. voices echoed everywhere–barely anyone in the south spoke english which we were prepared for, cars honked impatiently, and before we could properly process what was happening, locals were ushering us toward a car, shouting that they would take us for only five euro. i was slightly reassured when i noticed a family and other tourists already inside the car, which made the situation feel less reckless, even though my instincts were still on high alert. looking back, i know how reckless that sounds. the noise, the pressure, and the sensory overload made it hard to slow down and think. my mind raced as we drove with no clear sense of direction, but somehow they were honest. it really was only five euro, and we arrived safely. we walked to our hostel carrying enormous backpacks, still riding the adrenaline of arrival, only to learn that we could not store them. instead, we dragged everything with us, our entire lives weighing on our shoulders as we moved through the city. desperate for energy, we wandered naples in search of coffee. it did not take long to realize how different it felt from milan, where i had lived for almost a year. naples was louder, rougher, and more unapologetically alive, chaotic in a way that felt overwhelming at first but undeniably rich in culture and character.  once we had caffeine in our system, we turned our attention to our next destination and figured out how to get to pompeii. by the time we arrived, the afternoon heat was intense. walking through the ruins felt surreal, as if history stretched endlessly around us. by the time we arrived in pompeii, it was already afternoon and the heat hit us immediately. the sun sat heavy above the ruins and there was barely any shade. dust stuck to my shoes and sweat ran down my back, especially trapped under my trench coat. the air smelled dry and warm, like stone that had been baking all day. walking through the ruins felt strange in a quiet way, not dramatic, just unreal. we were stepping through streets that once belonged to real people, now reduced to broken walls and uneven paths. cats were everywhere, stretched out on warm stones or weaving between columns like they owned the place. i kept thinking about the song pompeii and how surreal it felt to actually be there. i was tired, sweaty, and uncomfortable, but also excited in a way that kept me moving.after exploring pompeii, instead of slowing down, i pushed us to keep going. i suggested heading toward the amalfi coast, specifically positano, convincing my housemate that it was only about an hour and a half away. at that point, distance felt almost irrelevant. surprisingly, he agreed. after a train ride and a bus that climbed dangerously high along a cliffside route, we eventually arrived, tired but excited. google maps confidently told us it was a thirty minute walk down to positano. what it failed to mention was that the walk was actually a steep and narrow hike down a cliff. almost immediately, a storm rolled in. i was wearing high heeled boots, and neither of us was dressed for the weather or the terrain. every step felt like a risk. we slipped, misstepped, laughed, nearly cried, and came close to falling more times than i can count. after nearly an hour, we finally made it down just as the sun was setting. exhaustion washed over us all at once. then, as if the universe decided to show mercy, a rainbow appeared over positano. it felt like a quiet reward for surviving the descent. once it was dark, hunger set in. our phones were nearly dead, we had no service, and there were no taxis or ubers running since it was not tourist season. we sat on the side of the road, visibly overwhelmed and unsure of what to do next, until some locals noticed us and stepped in to help. they guided us to a bus that was already completely full. the driver hesitated and was about to turn us away, but the locals raised their voices and explained that this was the last bus out. we squeezed on, grateful and relieved beyond words. hours later, we were back in naples. we finally ate neapolitan pizza, warm and comforting after a day defined by constant movement, little food, and endless walking. when we checked into our hostel, we discovered we were the only ones there. i was scared to sleep alone, so we shared a bed out of pure exhaustion and comfort. my housemate is gay btw incase anyone thinking otherwise. But man that day was exhausted so we slept within minutes. the next day, our flight was not until night, so once again we carried our backpacks with us and spent the entire day wandering naples. this time, i saw the city more clearly. it was beautiful in a way that felt honest and unpolished. everyone was right when they said the food in the south was better. my favorite moments were seeing mount vesuvius looming in the distance and getting lost in the historic streets filled with color, sound, and life. the city felt vibrant, raw, and deeply human. i missed it even before we left. when night finally came, we took the bus back home together, exhausted but fulfilled. the trip had been chaotic, uncomfortable, and unpredictable, yet unforgettable.