In Italian, it is spelled Napoli and they call themselves Napolitans. Yesterday, our cruise director warned us that traffic lights mean nothing in Naples. Then he amended that to say that red lights mean “slow down a little bit, maybe.” He was not teasing.
“A Taste of Sorrento and Pompeii,” is the name of the ship’s excursion we took in Naples. We had front row seats on the motor coach which gave us first-hand knowledge to the fact that drivers are crazy in Naples.
Our tour guide said locals like to do, “What feels right to them.” Imagine driving a motor coach through narrow, winding lanes among cars, motorcycles and pedestrians.
Motorcycles weave in and out on both lanes, cars make up their own driving laws, and pedestrians fear for their lives crossing the street. The driver honked as he neared each hairpin curve while relying on mounted convex mirrors so he can better check for oncoming traffic. 
Later in the day we marveled at a lady dressed in nice dress, wedged high heels, talking on a cell phone while on a bicycle in the middle of traffic. Our guide said, “The crazy people riding bicycles must have a suicide wish.”
Cuomo’s Lucky Store was our first stop. Here inlaid wooden furniture was demonstrated. This is a meeting point for most cruise tours. The tour is interesting. I had no desire to pay $3000 for a table or $600 for a large lazy Susan, no matter how beautiful they were, but access to a free toilet break was more important at this point. I liked their restroom signs.
Nearby were gardens with a beautiful coastal view.
Yes, this bird is real.
Lots of souvenir shops lined the streets, and I found lemon shaped scented soaps perfect for grandkids’ souvenirs. 
We took a guided tour of a small farm. 
No fields here. The farm has about ten acres and everything is terraced. 
Seven cows are milked twice a day, and the owner demonstrates making mozzarella cheese by hand. They also raise lemons as well as several other fruits and olives. They produce their own olive oil – not extra virgin, which means it is the first press of the olive which is pressed and picked on the same day. Instead, they produce Virgin olive oil which means it is still from the first press, but they wait two to three days until they harvest enough olives to take to the press. I purchased several bottles of lemon olive oil.
We were served mozzarella on top of fresh tomatoes. The tomatoes must be milder here. The acid in Italian tomatoes does not bother my stomach like the acid in my home-grown tomatoes. I plan to take advantage of that and really enjoy pizza, lasagna and all the other Italian food I can’t seem to tolerate well in the States. Spicy and lemon olive oils were on the table for dipping our bread. We were also served salami and an olive. For $2, I purchased a slice of homemade pound cake upon which they poured lemon cream. 
From there our guide took us to Pompeii.
Normally, it is very hot and still. I was very glad to have remembered my sun visor. Today was no exception with the heat, but we actually had a constant breeze. The guide said this is very unusual. The breeze kicked up the fine dust some, but it made the temperature more bearable.
Pompeii is an impressive, ancient city completely covered during the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. 
Archaeologists have excavated it and made plaster casts of human remains and household items. Then they poured concrete into the molds to give us replicas which portray an idea of the people and customs of the times. One mold is of a man seated and covering his head. Another is of a woman protecting her child. It is said that the people died of toxic fumes rather than fire or heat. 
All of these items are protected behind metal bars. People throw coins trough the bars onto the pedestal basin.
We toured a brothel with stone beds and built-in stone pillows. (Our guess is that they didn’t want the customers to become too comfortable and stay too long.)
There were “fast food” establishments. Three or four round stone depressions carved into a large stone where food was kept hot. These are probably the forerunner to chafing dishes we have today.
We also saw the sauna and cold baths (swimming pool), temple, amphitheater, and houses. 
Notice those large cut-out stones in the center of the street. Some smart civil engineer decided that a cross-walk would be handy. The spaces between the stepping stones allow for cart wheels to maneuver through, but the pedestrians can keep from walking in the dirty street. I am not exactly sure how the horses managed, but maybe these carts were human-powered.
That evening, the shower felt wonderful. We were sweat-soaked, and my feet were black from wearing my Keens (sandals), even though this type of sandal mostly covers the foot and is closed-toed. But I’m not complaining, just stating facts. I call this, “happy dirt!”
Next stop, Dubrovnik, Croatia.