Instagram vs. Reality
reflections on life in Napoli after one year abroad
Before I moved here, I envisioned my life as one romantic Instagram influencer post: I was a skinnier version of myself walking around in romantic dresses, sipping wine, and popping olives. In this fantasy world, I embodied the “dolce vita” of not giving a damn about achievement and productivity. I was perpetually relaxing with a poetry book on a fainting couch under a candelabra dripping wax onto a moody marble staircase.
The reality is starkly different. After walking around in a stupor last summer, I learned to wear orthopedic shoes from all the walking and breathable linens year-round to stay cool. And instead of softening up with poetry and carbohydrates, I’ve toughened up, using hand gestures to shame crazy drivers and dirty looks to make sure I’m not getting scammed like a tourist. It’s hard to keep up with the strong-willed Neapolitans.
Living in Napoli is a badge of honor because it’s not easy. Napoli was the first major metropolis in Italy, settled by the Ancient Greeks in the first millennium BC and given its nickname of “Parthenope”. Since then, Napoli has proved unconquerable, as civilizations have tried, and failed, to tame the beast by the sea.
Refusing to adapt to modern times, sometimes it feels like we’re living in an old-fashioned movie. The Neapolitan way is to live in the past, before bike lanes and modern transit were created and before businesses had websites. In Napoli, reservations must be made in advance via phone call. There is no Uber. I pay my gym membership in cash every month, and my payment is recorded on a physical punch card. There is no evidence of remote workers because computers are not (socially) permitted in cafes. Parking is a team sport and largely experimental. People trust you to pay them next time. There’s no such thing as “convenience food” - only freshly prepared eggplant and tomato. People often ask you for directions. You can text your doctor directly.
In the same ways Napoli has escaped modernization and technology, it has created something special: the preservation of genuine connection between people. Socialization tops the Neapolitan hierarchy of needs. Teenagers are often holding hands, kissing, and hanging out on the steps near my house. The Sunday passeggiata is the perfect antidote to the American Sunday scaries, as the best-dressed stroll around town in the arms of their family and friends. My local barista knows my coffee order is decaf. The warm and friendly nature of Neapolitans make it easier to meet new people and adapt to a new place.
However, looking back, I can see how it was not an easy transition. Naples will test you. It just wants you to show you’re committed. You have to earn your place in this city by showing your staying power.
But once you do, your local frutti vendolo will come after you on a moped when you forget your watermelon. You’ll be served giant meatballs in homemade ragu. You’ll be taken on vintage wooden boat rides where tanned nonnas negotiate the pricing and order you to “pagami”. You’ll have a big table reserved for you, where the waiter serves giant plates of melt-in-your-mouth octopus.
When you go for a drink, you can expect a giant bowl of juicy olives and some dry taralli to wash down your spritz. You’ll receive comments from neighbors about the best fried pizza to order, ensuring you “it’s very light”. You’ll learn how to speak a little Neapolitan, eh! You’ll witness big hand gestures, passion, arguments, and drama.
Whenever I land at our little airport, I am always in a rush to leave. It’s hot, it’s constantly crowded with tourists, and I just want to get home. Then I walk past the gates and into the arrivals terminal. As soon as the doors open, I feel a rush of emotions warm my body. No matter the hour, the terminal is full, packed with families holding giant balloons, kids holding handmade signs, and grandparents with anticipatory smiles searching for their loved ones to walk through the doors. I have traveled all over the world and I have never seen an arrivals terminal like Napoli. For all the drama, heat, and inconvenience, I’d rather experience the real heart of Italy than any fake social media still life any day.
What about you? What has been your biggest Instagram vs. reality moment? I can’t believe it’s already been one year since I left San Diego! Here are some highlights from my Italian year in review:
Learned about the culture in 5 new countries (Greece, Finland, Estonia, Hungary and Denmark) 🌍
Explored how different the regions of Italy are by visiting 9 out of 20 of them (Campania, Calabria, Basilicata, Apulia, Lazio, Umbria, Tuscany, Emilia-Romana, and Trentino Alto) 🍅
Consumed over 100 delicious pastries 🥐
Felt the wind at my back on 4 moped rides through the islands of Campania 🛵
Cold-dipped at least once per month! 🌊
Studied Italian, took lots of breaks, and ultimately can communicate at B1 level 👌🏻
Ate pasta or pizza every day 🍝
Been inspired by lots of new friends from all over the world
…all while working a full-time job and writing this newsletter. Buckle up tutti, I’m just getting started.
God, freaking bless you. I live in Paris (la vie en rose, right?). And Instagram is *not* Parisian reality.
Contrary to Pinterest and Insta...we do not walk around with a bold red lip, jeans, and a perfect white button down...enjoying 4 hour lunches with wine.
We grab dinner at Picard, wear Adidas tennis shoes with jeans, a Monoprix sweater, and very little makeup.
There is dog poo in the street, graffiti on the modernist buildings, and riots it seems like all the time.
But, my husband is French and that's what brought me here. So I'll enjoy a fresh baguette, strolling near the Seine, and my new life.
I say it ALL.THE.TIME. If it was easy, everyone would come. I love reading about your discoveries