3 days of biking, stolen wallets and tv’s.

After a couple of weeks in Napoli the lack of nature is starting to annoy me. There is one park in the city, which closes every day around the time I usually wake up. The gates just close. It’s as if people want to live there. Some probably do. I concluded a while ago that I prefer forests and lakes over oceans and cities. So, eager to find some fresh green sites I planed a 3 day bike trip. Naively I google-map the nearest lakes, which appear to be a 100km West.

Going to bed slightly drunk at 02:00am I wake up at 06:00am and drag myself out of bed. 2 hours later, after leaving busy Napoli and it’s bouncy lava pavement behind, I find myself surrounded by stunning sleepy villages, fresh nature and a fresh morning sunshine. Singing along with Niels Zachter I become more happy by the minute. At my first coffee stop at Big Mamma Café I find myself explaining my life choices to big mamma herself. After 3 minutes she concluded that I’m a nice crazy person who is somewhat of a non-Italian vagabond. A title I quite like. She insist that I stay for lunch, and is disappointed when I tell her I have a meeting with a lake 70 km away.

An hour later I hit the wall of not eating enough food. My body just won’t go anymore and I’m becoming slightly lightheaded. I stop at the closest place to eat, a little bakery where I buy an insane amount of sweet and salty Italian goodness. I put my head on a table, sleep for 5 minutes and feel reborn again. An old Italian man with a Cuban hat and a Diego Costa Chelsea shirt smiles when I tell him which climb I intent to make later today. 'Medium difficult' he calls it. 2 hours later is stair at what appears the be a wall of mountain and I have the feeling it is going to be hore categorie for me...

My god. The torture. My rear tire isn’t really pumped well, and it is at least 30 degrees Celsius. The climb seems to never end and not even Michael Jackson can help me at this point. I have to take several short stops to keep my heart from exploding. A mentally disabled kid who is watering some plants with a garden hose appears, like a rare Pokemon on a good day. I tell him to hit me with as much water as he can, he laughs out loud and goes right at it, i feel love(d) and refreshed.

At a certain point the weather changes drastically and it starts to rain. Fresh again. I close my bags extra well and keep going, but after 30 minutes or so I really have tot take a rest. I’m exhausted. Being the vagabond that I am I decide to find a dry spot, take out my little matrass and have an original siesta. Unfortunately the only dry place I can find is on the main square in a not so sleepy town. Old men are playing a cart game for coins and young man are drinking beer, all sheltering from the rain. I couldn't care less, I just wanna be alone and dry. I lay down my matrass and try to sleep, ignoring the people staring at me. I dream of music. A trumpet, a drum. I have no idea how long I was in a this crazy light sleep dream, but I wake up with a drum band 5 meters away from me starting some loud national-anthem like song. It seems as if they are playing just for me, or to welcome the returned sun. I laugh out loud. Bad timing with humor.

I have another coffee and somehow manage to get on top of the mountain. Spectacular rewards. A stunning mountain lake with clear blue water flanked by mountains appears and I quickly find a perfect camp spot. There is a sign: keep out, buffalo area. I pretend I didn’t see it. I pitch the tent, take a swim and sleep like a baby for 12 hours straight. When I wake up the place seems even more beautiful and I feel strange, but good. I try to do some meditation but flies won’t let me.

On what was supposed to be a chilled out second day I ride to the next town, Letino. I didn’t bring my cooking stuff on this trip so it’s pretty important that I find a good lunch here. The town is small and gorgeously build with only white houses and somehow a black church. It also seems deserted. I ask the first old lady I see where I can find some lunch and she looks at me as if I’m the antichrist. Maybe I should put my shirt back on.

I find the square, park my bike and lay down on a bench. I close my eyes for a bit and hum some songs, probably Disney. A strange homeless looking man with a red hat passes by with a walking cane. I feel like having a coffee , take 80 cents from my wallet and make a little chat at the only bar around. A bartender my age tells me this used the be a tourist town, but the bus company who organized the trips went bankrupt due to some corruption scandal. “Well, at least I’m here” I say, immediately thinking that he can probably not buy a boat from the 80 cents I just gave him. He goes on explaining me that there is no hot food to be found here, so I have to go down the road a bit to buy some things at the local supermarket. I walk back to my bike, wallet gone.

When you lose something your brain and emotions start running wild at the same time. I trained myself to immediately think in solutions and actions, but I can not think of any this time. After cursing in some languages I realize 40€ and my bank cart are gone and I have no money left to buy food to get home. It’s way too late to make it back to Napoli in 1 day. I walk back to the bar and tell the barman what just happened. Ah, he says.. there is only one man who does these kind of things around here. He looks like a homeless guy, wears a red had and walks with a walking cane. Did you see him?' Yeah, I saw him. That rat bastard.

The stealing of my wallet is probably the most exiting thing that happened here since the Giro D’italia passed by this town in 1976. 40 and 50 year old man appear out of nowhere and all speak in shame of the man with the red cap. As I listen to them I have an emotion coming over me. Anger.

A man with an enormous belly on a scooter tells me where he just saw the man with the red hat who I'll call Eddy from now on. 3 minutes later I find him, Eddy, who somehow already knew what was going on. ‘Where is my wallet’, I ask him for the first time. ‘How I’m I supposed to know?’ he replies; A game we would play for the next 30 minutes. His eyes are blurry and he stinks like 5 days of Carnaval. The way he talks and gives answers make me realize this is not going to work with just talking. As he shows me his wallet to demonstrate it is not mine I take it from him. He protests a bit, but not a lot. I lose my temper and push him on the ground, sit on top of him with my fist in the air. ‘Guarda’ I say, trying to sounds as mafioso as I can, “These people here might be all quite and tolerant to you, but I’m a fucking viking from Holland and I’ll brake your face in a second if you don’t give me my fucking wallet back right now!!” “Eddy!!” Of course I don’t plan to brake his face, it looks broken enough already. But I hoped fear would change his mind. It didn’t.

I tell him to follow me to the little square and he does. The men there, all still discussing the matter of course, tell the man he’s a bastard and the only reason they lock their cars. Eddy is not homeless and suggests we go to his house to prove his innocence, but since it lies in another direction he hasn’t been there after he took my wallet.. Out of options I agree and while we are walking to his house I remind him of my face breaking plans.

I know it is a stupid plan. What if he has some bad ass brother there, or a weapon? I feel super sharp and he is super slow, so I decide to take my chances. His place is closer and more organized than I imagined it. Eddy starts showing me all kinds of thing “Look, this spoon is also not your wallet”. He is fucking with me, I can feel it. Out of options my eyes seize up his TV, the size of a laptop. I walk towards it, unplug it, and take it under my arm. “Sorry Eddy, but this TV is mine now, it compensates for my wallet”. He looks scared for the first time. I walk downhill towards the square, and Eddy follows me. This time not because I tell him to, he want’s his TV back. Arriving at the square I see the scene in helicopter vision. It’s ridicules. I feel almost cool as the group of now about 15 men and women stare at me. Some laugh, others are just shocked. What follow is a lot of talking and a regain my cool. I'm out of options. I can't wait here 3 days for the police to show up. Fuck it. I put the TV and Eddy’s wallet on the ground. Eddy takes them and walks home. No faces broken, no wallet.

I'm more calm and know I'll make it home anyway, i just don't know how yet. What follows is nice people offering me beers, sandwiches, coffee's, apologies for Eddy's behavior and compliments about my journey. One 50 year old gay man named Raphael offers me to have lunch with his parents at their place. If his wife accepts of course, he jokes. I except gratefully. 30 minutes later the four of us are having a delicious and huge lunch. Typically Italian they insist that I try and finish everything. I find myself explaining my life choices ones again and although they think I must be crazy leaving a woman and a job behind in Amsterdam they give me 10€ to buy lunch the next day. I write down their address and insist I sent them a card on day, including 10€ of course. As I say goodbye to Raphael and his parents I bike out of the little town to meet my new stunning camp spot. Around the corner I see Eddy again. He stairs into nothing.

Update 03-08-'16

Apart from this little adventure I'm doing very well in Napoli. I have a lot of time on my hands and use it to meditate, run, drink & think. More stories soon.

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