From Lust Till Dawn is a reader-supported site. Purchases made through links may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. Learn more.
It was our second time in Naples, Italy, and yet, we had never been outside city center aside from visiting Herculaneum. We stayed pretty close to where all the delicious pizza restaurants were because after all, that’s what we had ventured to Naples for– pizza for breakfast, pizza for lunch, and pizza for dinner. Be still my indulgent heart.
On Sunday afternoon, Mike and I took the train a few stops out to Posillipo, a neighborhood of Naples on the sea. I wanted to see the blue coastline, and Mike wanted to try one of two seafood restaurants that his close friend’s local friends recommended to us. They are:
- Il Miracolo dei Pesci, Largo Sermoneta, 17, 80122 Napoli NA, Italy
- Friggitoria Osteria Mediterranea, R6GC+32 Naples, Metropolitan City of Naples, Italy
Unfortunately, both restaurants were booked for the day. I highly recommend planning ahead of time unlike us and making reservations for lunch or dinner a week in advance.
Since we couldn’t eat there, we walked around a bit and enjoyed hearing the water against the rocks near the ports and watching the fisherman selling their fresh catches of the day.
It was nice to see a different part of Naples; one less dilapidated and no garbage strewn about. But it was a cold and windy day, and with grumbling stomachs, we headed back to city center to eat. What else would we do…?
As we were waiting for the train, I caught a piece of my dress peeking out from underneath my coat, being blown by the wind, and I couldn’t help think of my mom and her unknowing knack of not following the norm.
‘I had a dance recital when I was five years old. We were all supposed to wear tight legging shorts (is that the correct term?) with a plain orange short sleeve t-shirt tucked into them.
Instead of going out and buying a plain orange shirt like every other mom did, my mom dressed me in a sleeveless, orange polka-dot dress I already owned. Because of its a-line hem, when she stuffed the dress into my shorts, all the cloth bunched up in my leggings.
As a kid, I was never one to get embarrassed, or maybe I was just unaware of what was going on. So I just went with it– sticking out like a sore thumb.’
I looked back at that memory and smiled. Something about these polka dots and the vibrance of the green somehow brought back the vividness of that particular orange polka-dot dress from my dance recital; a memory I had forgotten about.
It wasn’t just the pattern and color of the dress that brought me back to my mom. I looked in the mirror of the restaurant’s bathroom, and with my collar buttoned to the neck, I saw a glimpse of her in me.
I could see her wearing this dress.
Shop This Post
Thanks for making it all the way down to the end of the post. I’d love to connect. Come say hi to me my Instagram @sarchetrit, especially if you found any part of this post to be helpful.
Till then, thanks for stopping by, and have a great day!