Naples...Oh how I despise you!

Once again we found ourselves on yet another ferry to Naples Friday morning where we were to then catch a train to Rome. The ferry was uneventful, and I wish I could say the same about the rest of the day. Things went down hill quickly. We landed in the touristy port of Naples (a stark contrast to the industrial port we had landed just days prior) and grabbed a quick breakfast and some America magazines. The magazines would be my last purchase of the trip.

We hopped on the tram that would take us to train station, apparently 20 minutes away. The tram was incredibly packed and Kelly and I were trying to keep an eye on all of our belongings without knocking over the old Italians. About 5 minutes into the tram ride, a woman next to me taps me on my arm and says “you might want to be careful, someone just had their hand in your purse” I got a little worried, but the purse was practically zipped up, I had a sweatshirt inside it and can never find anything in it when I am looking. But she insisted on my checking…and of course, my wallet was gone. I had officially gotten pick-pocketed. And this is of course right after Kelly and I had discussed how careful we normal are when traveling. Unfortunately, this time, I hadn’t taken any precautions. All of my money, credit cards and information were gone. I did thankfully still have my passport, cell phone and camera.

I was obviously shaken up by the experience, but at the same time I was thoroughly impressed by the skill of these street criminals. To add salt to the wounds though, the woman who initially alerted me (but evaded the question as to why she didn’t stop it) proceeded to tell the entire tram what had happened, gesturing wildly, pointing in my direction and telling everyone she had seen it happen.

But of course my bad luck didn’t end there…5 minutes before the train station, a young man standing next to me ended up puking all over the wall behind me, spraying yack everywhere and onto me; once at the train station I went to the police booth to report the incident and they told me they couldn’t help, I had to go to a different police station (apparently they were only pretend cops); and finally we were stuck in a 6 person train cabin with a loud Italian grandmother who knew everyone and told everyone that we were “Indiano” and from “New Jersey” (I guess that is why the tickets were so cheap).

I was ready to get the hell out of dodge and on to Rome. Of course there was still a two hour train ride, phone calls to cancel my credit cards (a BIG THANK YOU to Greg for looking up all of those phone numbers for me while translating what the annoying Italian grandmother was saying), and assessment of available money.