RESTLESS NATIVE:

Even with summer coming to a close, I’m still as busy as ever. I feel the time flying by now, and the thought of leaving Naples is a sad one for many reasons. Of course, I’m excited to see my friends and family again, but so much has happened since I left for Europe in March that I feel like a completely different person, and certainly I have begun a completely different life.

If I had followed the plan I started with, then today I would have gotten on a plane at Heathrow Airport in London and flown home. Instead, I am staying in Naples for almost another three weeks and, today, Renato and I celebrated our four-month anniversary. Oh how plans change!

Of course, airlines don’t like it when you change your mind, and as an incentive to smother all spontaneity in passengers, they do everything they can to prevent you from being able to alter your plans after purchasing your ticket. Originally, my return flight was with British Airways, but when I tried to change my ticket, knowing that I would have to pay plenty for any and every deviation, I was told that though I could change the date of my flight, I could not re-route it.

Of course, this isn’t mentioned anywhere in the contract. Rather than scramble to find a way to get to London today or on a later date (which, with the recent terrorist activity, was not an option I favored), I decided to purchase a new ticket with a different carrier for a flight leaving from Rome. After discovering that this would cost me about $1,400, it was not an option I favored all that much either.

Thankfully, while I was on the phone with my dad, Errico at the front desk overheard my dilemma and began to search the Internet for cheaper alternatives. Before I had even hung up the phone, Errico had found a way to save me nearly $1,000! Though I may need to spend a night in Rome and then definitely a night in Dusseldorf while I wait for the second leg of my return trip (my European phrasebook will finally come in handy), I’d be willing to spend a night just about anywhere to save $1,000. When all is said and done, I will be back in Costa Mesa on Sept. 27.

The brief panic I experienced while searching for a new flight was not to be my last ticket-related dilemma for this week. Before I get to the heart of my story, let me explain a few things about riding the bus in Naples.

Most days they’re packed with people, and you always keep a hand on your valuables. It also doesn’t hurt to grow eyes in the back of your head.

Since riding the bus is such a popular mode of transportation in this traffic-jammed city, it’s often difficult to get on and off the bus — plus it’s no easy feat to move around once you’re on board. Because of this, there are multiple entrances on each bus. You don’t have to buy a ticket at the door or even show one. In fact, passengers must buy their tickets at Tabacchi (almost like little convenience stores) before they even board. Once they’re on, they must stick one end of their ticket into one of two yellow validation machines, which print the date and time the ticket was used. To make sure that people aren’t riding the bus for free, controllers often board the bus and check everyone’s ticket, issuing a fine (payable on the spot) to anyone without a valid ticket.

Of course, everyone seems to know that the controllers don’t ride the buses late at night or on Sundays. Some people even know which stops controllers are most likely to board at. All of this means that I, like a great portion of Naples, have been riding the bus free these many months. However, I always keep a blank ticket on hand to validate in a pinch if I spot the blue uniform of a controller shuffling down the aisle.

Just two days ago as I was making my way to the train station to meet Renato, I failed to notice that blue uniform, and when I was asked to show my ticket, I could do nothing but produce my blank one. Though Renato claims that I am becoming more and more like a Neapolitan, I must confess that I fell back on my roots as a tourist to save my hide.

After showing my blank ticket (with as much naive confidence as I could muster), the controller asked for identification and 34 euros. I handed him my California driver’s license (I keep my passport locked in the safe at the hostel) but pretended not to understand anything else he had said. I kept this up even as the bus came to its final stop right next to the train station, and I found myself on the street with a lot of other cornered freeloaders.

Most paid their fines and left. Others argued but found their attempts to be futile. I, on the other hand, stuck to my guns and played dumb. It was all I had. Really. I knew arguing was going to get me nowhere -- especially if I argued in Italian. All I had to my advantage was my California driver’s license and the fact that I had only 10 euros on me. I even opened my wallet and showed the stern, white haired, fast-talking controller demanding my money that I lacked the amount he was after.

A few times I almost blew my cover by answering his questions (all in Italian of course) in English. If he had stopped to think about my responses, he would have realized I understood him just fine. I also threw out a few Italian words that the usual phrase-book toting tourist shouldn’t know, but he never seemed to blink.

Finally, my controller asked if I was leaving Naples soon, which got my heart racing since I was already beginning to wonder what they did with offenders who couldn’t pay. Was he going to haul me in to some police department and make sure I left sooner than planned? I answered “subito,” which means soon. It was both a lie and one of those words I shouldn’t know. He asked me where I was going, and without hesitating — I figured that would give my lies away — I answered, “Sicilia.” Really, I should have said Sicily, and maybe a Southern accent would have helped me now that I think about it.

At this point, a second controller who was much younger and didn’t exactly keep his eyes glued to his clipboard the way the other guy did entered the scene and looked at my license. The first controller started to point to an address on one of his forms, and I understood that he wanted me to mail the money once I got to Sicily. Fat chance.

The second controller began to speak with the first after I indicated to him that I was going to be late for my train. I pointed to the station, frowned and said in English, “There is a train”.

This was true since I was meeting Renato outside of Naples and my train was leaving in less than 10 minutes. Luckily, this second controller took over my case and with a merciful smile — I really did appreciate that — he handed me back my license and said, “Tutto posto,” everything’s OK.

Continuing to play dumb, I stood in a feigned stupor and attempted to give him my now marked ticket, but he waved me on, said “tutto posto” once more, and gave me a thumbs-up before walking away.

I must admit that I do feel a bit guilty for taking advantage of his kindness and even a bit dirty since I don’t think I would have gotten the same treatment if I wasn’t young and wearing a skirt at the time.

Of course, I learned my lesson, and I have used a valid ticket ever since, which is good, because controllers have checked my tickets two more times in the last two days. I have gone four months without so much as seeing a controller from a distance and suddenly, they’re everywhere!

Before I sign off, I want to share one last adventure for this week. On Monday I met two Daily Pilot readers who have been keeping up with my articles! It was such a pleasure meeting Martha and Randy, who contacted me in August for information on Naples and some of the surrounding areas. When they arrived this week, they invited me out for drinks, and I met them at the Galleria, where there are some quiet little cafes. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit with them. It was so nice to talk with someone from home — someone who knows what Ruby’s is and how bad the traffic can get on East Coast Highway in Corona del Mar.

Of course, we talked about more than food and highways. We shared travel stories, and Martha asked me to describe Renato to her. I can’t help but enjoy that.

So thank you Martha and Randy for such a nice evening! I hope you have a great time in Italy and that you return home safely!

Until next week, ciao ragazzi!