You may not find this terribly rewarding unless you're included here, so this is a good time for casual and random browsers to turn back before they get too caught up in the sweep and majesty of the proceedings and can't let go.
We've had a very enjoyable few hours in the Certosa di San Martino, and it's time now to return to sea level. We've committed ourselves to walking down the famous Pedamentina a San Martino, considered something of a self-competitive exercise on the uphill journey -- we did it (going down) once before, a bit grim, rainy if memory serves and nighttime before we got into the downtown streets, but that was nearly 15 years ago. We'll do much better this time.
From here to the first road, the Corso Vittore Emanuele, before getting involved in the steep streets farther down, there are 414 steps built by the architects Tino di Campiono and Francesco de Vito in the 14th century, both for an improved civilian connection between the city and the growing suburbs on the hill and for defensive purposes in case of a siege of the Castel Sant'Elmo, and possibly to move materials up the hill for the construction of the monastery and fortress.
Obviously there's a lot of maintenance in progress, and evidently has been for a long time, if heartfelt online comments about it are any indication.
It's probably too early to stop for a breather yet.
That appears to be the city way, way down there. Way down there!
It is all very scenic, though. We could be in a suburban mall someplace instead -- Lucky Stars!
So the maintenance works were evidently a good idea, and long overdue.
The last time we were in this same spot, the graffiti was different (here).
And in this place, in 2010, our caption read 'Very slippery steps' (here), but no such problems today. (Slippery knees perhaps, but the steps are fine.)
Those maintenance workers should probably come along down here next.
Good views from here, and from nearly everywhere on the way down. The water bottles on the table, aimed more for uphill climbers than for downhill plodders, are backed by a sign that says, in effect, 'Take one. €1'.
What's that? Besides an overstated street lamp.
We don't want to get dizzy here. Zigging, zagging, zigging again. And zagging again, too old for this.
The zigzagging's over, what's next?
One has a sense that we're coming up on something. Perhaps the port area is just round this corner.
No, not yet. Maybe the next corner. (Those people just hurtled past us, not both of us actually.)
Civilization, sort of. It's not the port area. It turns out to be the Corso Vittorio Emanuele, which is essentially the upper frontier of the Spanish Quarter which then continues on high up all the way round to Mergellina up the coast.
So we cross the road and take our chances just going 'downhill' wherever.
And avoiding any more uphills
Very good, our party will be reuniting again.
War damage (Sorry, Naples!)
Down, down, and a little more down.
Sans paroles
The little black gothic-font scrawl on the left wall is intriguing: 'Brigata Carolina 89'. Subsequently, one learns that 'the Brigata Carolina is a group of Napoli ultras that originated in the Quartieri Spagnoli neighborhood of Naples, Italy, in 1989. The group is known for their graffiti, which can be found in places like Castel Sant'Elmo, a castle that overlooks the city.'
Street level, thank the blessed god of knees.
Here's a familiar face, so to speak. This is the Via Pignasecca shopping street, and this . . .
. . . is the famous Piazza Pignasecca marketplace.
The piazza -- in the ten Commissario [or Inspector] Ricciardi police books and films, Ricciardi lives near here (and walks to work near the port, in the 1930s), and this is where his loyal housekeeper shops for groceries and argues with the jovial vendors. And near where he waves shyly to his secret love Enrica across the alley.
The novels were written by Maurizio de Giovanni, translated by Anthony Shugaar (2013-2023). Ricciardi is played on RAI TV by Lino Guanciale.
That's the Salita Paradiso leading back up the Vomero (without us).
Clean-up after another market day
Behind this camera shot, we're actually taking an amusing little snack in the Pasticceria 'LoungeBar' Mazzone just across the street. Nice people.
And now we're wending farther down Via Pignasecca, pausing from time to time to seek out bargains, toward the Via Toledo at the Piazza Carità.
Naples, probably all Italy, must have a name for this kind of inspired post-war adaptation.
The Via Pignasecca, probably always busy. 'Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers' . . . nah, it's looks like fun.
We're having a yearning sort of look at what's on offer at Alberto's
Pescheria.
We're finally out on the Via Toledo now, a little kneeishly wobbly but happy, and soon . . .
. . . we'll cross the Piazza del Plebiscito and watch a collection of men in different uniforms in squads. Perhaps awaiting their medals for guard duty during the Days of Public Health now completed.
Late afternoon from the Borgo Marinaro
Dinner at Antico Sapori again on Via Julia -- only one more day of dignified revelry before we must leave Naples again.
Next up: A walk round the Chiaia neighborhood, then a bolt for the rail station the following day.
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All rights reserved, all wrongs avenged. Posted 13 January 2025. 
