The Secret Garden

Palazzo Venezia Napoli

Green space is rare to see in Naples but not necessarily difficult to find once you’ve been told where to look.  On via Benedetto Croce, which is part of Spaccanapoli, is a communal garden that sits atop of old apartments watched over by surrounding terraced apartments and decks allowing the air to swoop down into the space providing constant and cooling circulation.  To access the garden one enters through an archway facing the street that opens to a courtyard or in Italian, cortile.  The garden is called Palazzo Venezia and from what I can work out dates back to 1300s and has clearly had many reconstructions over the years, as the plants aren’t old enough.  The Magnolia is possibly the oldest species there.

Once in the courtyard one ascends a set of steps to the first floor, walk through a small gallery of contemporary Neapolitan art, then along a corridor opening into a red room referred to as the Pompei room. This room inspires me to want to place a bed in the centre covered in white sheets, and never leave.  The vermillion coloured walls fill me with warmth and passion and the French doors with their curtains peeled back allow for the sunlight to animate and illuminate the space. 

Pompei Room

Beyond the French doors is a fecund garden that cools the mind immediately on sight and invites one into its various green pockets of space.  A medium-sized Magnolia Grandiflora tree shades one corner of the garden with its exceptionally large ornamental flowers scenting the breeze with its lemony odor.  Olive and various fruit trees sculpt the landscape with their range of heights and shapes.  The tree whose name currently escapes me droops its long white floral trumpets, elongated heart shaped leaves reach out and droop their tips and the branches twist and curve like a smooth wisteria vine.  The floor of the garden is lush with soft grass, herbs, daisies, elderflowers and red flowering begonias.  Pink roses and tender ferns nestle amongst shiny broad leaf shrubs and blue and mauve hydrangeas enliven the mustard wall that they grow against.  Peach trees laden with produce, embrace me, the new yellow just starting to appear through the fruits fuzzy skin.  The distinct leaves of a citrus tree, shows off its zesty green leaves, pointing skywards along with the unfurling of new Laurel leaves; the two side-by-side appear to race as to who can grow higher.  I also see the leaves of fig and oleander, virginia creeper and irises, loquat and succulents.   

An ivy covered grotto rests in the corner, its domed interior painted Yves Klein blue and adorned with stenciled stars, the perfect place to light candles.  Garden furniture is placed under white umbrellas that reach over the table and chairs like a dangling lily pad.  A picnic lunch could be had or someone like me can be inspired to write about such a generous gift left to mere mortals.  A caretaker makes his way gently, sweeping the path as if he doesn’t want to wake anything. Birds appear to express their happiness through rich chirping and the swallows constantly squeak and dart.  I’ve even seen a small green bird very similar to the grass parrots seen in Bathurst.  A bells rich tone, drawn from ancient metal, chimes with alarm, a ring I haven’t heard before as they are usually rung with pace.

Only occasional visits by locals and tourists alter the space as they walk around slowly and then leave.  When I am here I stay for some time, writing, reading or having my Italian lesson with Serena.   The garden makes me feel that it’s mine whilst here; an arbor from the lively active street only meters away, transporting me to a whole other peaceful and rejuvenating world. 

Ciao

hellsbells