how to change your luck 🍀

succumb to the chaos and you'll become enchanted

My friend recently cancelled plans with me because she had been Napl’ed. When she told me that, I instantly knew what she meant. It meant she got in a fender bender on the highway. It meant that she wasted time trying to complete a task that would never be more than a pile of papers sitting on someone’s desk. It meant she got caught in the rain without an umbrella. We all have these days. They come and go. But recently I’ve been on a streak of Naples magic. Let’s call it Napchantment, maybe?

It first happened when we planned to go to a beach club in Posillipo. It was a balmy Sunday in June, sunny and warm but not overly humid, and we immediately got rejected at the beach club because it was already full. The young Neapolitan man guarding the gate suggested we walk onto Marechiaro, a pretty swimming spot nearby, about a twenty-minute walk downhill. I hesitantly agreed and tried to keep my hopes high.

Marechiaro sits below the grand palazzos of Posillipo and is flanked by beautiful restaurants overlooking the sea. Once we got down the hill, there were a few people walking towards a narrow set of steps leading down to the ocean. We decided to follow the crowd.

At the bottom of the steps was a young Neapolitan woman in a bikini holding a chopped mooring line, creating a queue. She was limiting access as if we were in Soho Club in London, not on a public sidewalk in Naples, prohibiting access to the red carpet.

I asked her where the boat goes, and she said something in Neapolitan that I did not understand, but the mooring line was released, and we handed her 5 euros and walked down the stone plank to board the small wooden boat. Never mind that we didn’t know where we were going.

Ultimate trust: following his wife onto a little wooden boat with no known destination

An older nonno with a bucket hat was in command of the little wooden boat, pulling the two oars over the choppy ocean as the passengers held on for dear life. I laughed at myself as the seagulls flew overhead and the waves splashed and misted onto my legs. We were on an adventure, aiming for a crowded set of cliffs in the near distance, accessible only by boat.

We landed safely on shore, and some handsome Neapolitan young men took my hand as I climbed off the boat. We set up camp on the crowded cliffs, renting a lounge chair for 5 euros from an abandoned ship turned snack bar. As I swam in the refreshing ocean of Marechiaro, the water ceruluan blue and little fishes swimming by my feet, the bucket hat man rowed past me with another group of beach-goers, singing and laughing as his tan arms slickly navigated the swimming canal.

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A post shared by @robbie_mcintosh

That, my friends, is Napchantment. A foiled plan, a singing nonno, a clean swimming hole, a pizza on the beach.

The next stroke of luck was also a mode of transport. Getting around in Naples is no easy feat, and getting around on the Amalfi Coast is even trickier. We went to Festa Vico this year, a food festival in Vico Equense with all of the best Michelin Star chefs of Italy. I knew parking and traffic would be difficult, but we were lucky enough to get a spot down by the beach, a treacherous 30-minute, steep uphill walk from the festival.

While we were waiting in line for the little bus up, a large man with a giant moped asked if anyone wanted a ride. I hesitated. Weren’t those giant motorcycles death traps? The hill was very steep. How could my husband and I fit on the back? He looked at me and said, “Come on, I’ll take you and your husband”. I replied, fearfully, “You can fit two people?” He replied with a challenge: “Two, three, four, five, let’s go!”

I laughed, threw caution to the wind, and climbed on the back of his moped and draped my arms around his shoulders, telling him to be careful. My husband climbed on the back, and I was sandwiched between two men as we slowly climbed up the mountain until we reached the festival entrance. I reached into my purse to give him a few euros for this ride, and he said, “Don’t worry about it - have fun!”. I was shocked. We walked into the festival with huge smiles on our faces, ready to eat some pasta.

This pasta was made by a famous chef, but as naive Americans, we had no idea who he was.

Another day last week, I was feeling stale. A switch in my routine got me caught in the middle of a purchasing war. I stopped for a decaf cappuccino after a morning walk at my favorite bar. It was a crowded day, as it is most days, and the five or six gentlemen working were in a rare form. The thrum of the bar was so alive. The barman banged the portafilter to dump out the used espresso, the steaming sound of the milk frothing, the men yelled orders, and the customers screamed their requested pastry demands. A man at the end of the bar was holding up five euros and screaming at the barista - “don’t let her pay for that!” while another woman at the cash register was screaming at the barista, “take my money!”. The barista was left to negotiate between the two parties for a 3-euro coffee order. Screams, shouts, and laughs broke out as he held the crowd in rapture, joking about who was his boss, and ultimately bending to the strength of the Napoletana (everyone eventually does). I ended up with a free comedy show before logging into work at 9:00 AM.

These little funny moments remind me why I love living in Italy so much. If you focus on all of the things that are hard about living here - you can’t book the beach club online, the parking is horrible, and the morning screaming is unsettling - it’s easy to complain. But then you’ll miss out on the magic of life here. There is always, always a solution, and if you give up after the first try, you won’t make it far.

So if you want to change your luck, keep going. If you can’t walk, try climbing on the back of a stranger’s moped. If you get rejected, find some place that will make you feel special. If your morning routine gets a little boring, shake it up! Luck has never changed without changing your mindset.

In June, two of my pieces came out in literary magazines!

• Last week, you read “Vesuvio” - but my piece “Aspen” - about quitting my job and resisting the pull of Silicon Valley and the ultra-wealthy- was published in ¡Pa'lante! Magazine. The digital version is not yet available, but I got the physical version in the mail. Thanks to Cerritos College for supporting emerging Californian writers.