And he lives on: portrayed as "Dios" (God) on socks, scarves, statuettes, tattoos, religious iconography, wall murals and other gift shop souvenirs. It has an altar with a "miraculous" lock of the Argentine's hair.ĭespite a controversial 2019 HBO documentary depicting Maradona as being in the clutches of cocaine and the Camorra (the Neapolitan mafia) when he played for Napoli from 1984 to 1991, he's still worshipped here for inspiring the underdog club to glory. Off Piazzetta Nilo is Bar Nilo, a shrine to Napoli Football Club and its late, legendary star, Diego Maradona. Biting into my portafoglio, I see characters chatting, flirting and dosing up on nicotine, caffeine and other palate-pleasers at tables and chairs strewn across the squares, large and small, that punctuate Spaccanapoli. "It's popular in the historic centre because it's super-frantic here and people are always on the move.' "You fold it and eat it as you walk," explains Brunella, as she orders for me. Other timeless Neapolitan snacks are sfogliatella - a shell-shaped puff pastry - and pizza portafoglio, literally "wallet pizza", typically margarita flavoured and smaller than your classic sourdough one. We stop for a jolt at Bar 7Bello - a neon-laced joint opposite Gay-Odin, a chocolatier founded in 1894 and renowned for its brioches stuffed with chocolate, pistachio and strawberry ice cream. You'll hear baristas clattering away, drumming up Naples' famously bitter, blow-your-head-off espresso. A younger man hawks cornicellos - chilli-pepper-shaped red horns said to bring good luck, fertility and virility. On one street corner, an elderly, flat-capped, cigarette-smoking man is hunched on a chair, beside a stall loaded with vintage dial telephones. There are juice bars and "burger stores", pharmacies and delis where vendors stack pasta, wine and limoncello outside doorways.īy submitting your email you are agreeing to Fairfax Media'sįunnelling off Spaccanapoli are even narrower, shadowy alleys and elaborately-carved archways and courtyards that'll tempt the adventurous wanderer. Poking my head in as we walk, I see butchers hacking meat, watches being polished, dresses being hung, hand-bags being primped, books piled on shelves, vinyl records being leafed through. Music - from opera to Aerosmith - sounds from pot planted-balconied apartments and hole-in-the-wall stores. Spaccanapoli comprises several inter-connecting streets and in the ones that aren't pedestrianised, taxis honk and scooters drone, crawling and itching to circumvent the melee.
We brush shoulders with Neapolitans across the age and social spectrums, from sneaker-clad students and well-heeled, immaculately-groomed brunettes to cap-carrying beggars and besuited octogenarians (some sporting face masks, others with them sagging under their chins). Pizza portafoglio, literally "wallet pizza", typically margarita flavoured and smaller than your classic sourdough one.\ Photo: iStock "Last year, especially during the three-month lockdown, it was very strange. But in a good way.Īfter the pandemic-enforced travel bans, being somewhere so noisy and atmospheric, where your eyes dart this way and that, capturing the vignettes of Neapolitan life in all its espresso-downing, pizza-munching, frenetic-talking, gesticulation-spliced vibrance, is a treat. Hemmed in by five and six-storey gelato-hued buildings, many with peeling stucco, caked in graffiti and occupied by residents and (seemingly-thriving) businesses, this two-kilometre-long east-west thoroughfare is claustrophobic. We see and hear them amid the stew of activity on Spaccanapoli, the narrow, pulsating street that means "Naples Splitter" and divides the city's ancient Greco-Roman core.
A glass-floored viewing window overlooking the relics is being planned, adding to the cornucopia of cultural treasures that wow visitors to Napoli (or Naples) and its volcano-riddled surrounds.īrunella is in buoyant spirits now that overseas tourists are finally trickling back. She reveals that work to extend the city's Metro system led to the discovery of an earlier port, established by Greek sailors almost 3000 years ago.
It's full of layers and every time we dig down, we find another slice," says Brunella Uva, our Neapolitan guide, nodding to the building site near the cruise terminal.