We decided to start our month long trip to Italy with a few days on the island of Ischia for one reason. To relax. And our day at the Negombo spa was just what the doctor ordered. Now if we could only get the bill to picked up by Obamacare. . .

Our home for the next few days, the Hotel Mezzatorre, is situated between the towns of Lacco Ameno and Forio in a wild natural park on a bluff overlooking the San Montano bay, the site where Ischia’s patron saint, Santa Restituta reputedly washed up on shore from her native Carthage. To commemorate that spot, some enterprising Ischians decided to erect a splendid thermal spa where Italians of all ages, shapes, sizes and levels of physical attractiveness can get mostly naked and enjoy the therapeutic waters in extremely close proximity to one another. It sounded like the perfect way to spend our first full day on our new island home.

Negombo, a strange name that sounds less Italian and more African, is one of a dozen or so thermal spas that grace this island and it is most often mentioned, together with the Poseidon, as among the best on the island. And in addition to being one of the top spas it had the distinct advantage of being the closest to the Mezzatorre. Close enough to walk to, in fact.

The 15 minute walk from the hotel to Negombo is a delight in itself, as the impossibly narrow two way road winds through rough, natural woodland, which protects you from the hot Ischian sun. The road truly is a typical Italian and, as we are fast learning, a typically Ischian invention. No more than a donkey path that was later paved it supports two way traffic to and from the hotel despite being narrower than a single car. This tiniest of roads has a short curb on either side, presumably to keep cars from plunging off of it but more likely to keep the local body shop in business repairing scrapes and dents, and one particularly nasty turn appears to be physically impossible for a car to navigate (on our first visit in April the curbs on either side of this turn were covered with carpet remnants to protect the cars from the inevitable scraping that accompanies the change in direction). Somehow the local taxi minivans navigate the turn without mishap.

We emerged from the wooded hotel property to the main road to Lacco Ameno and followed the signs to Negombo, not knowing what to expect and slightly nervous about not knowing how to conduct ourselves once we arrived. A few moments later we were passing through the large parking area where the vacationing Italians, Germans and Brits (along with a surprising number of Russians) who frequent this island leave their cars, scooters and bikes. We paid our admission fee, the reasonable sum of €34 for an entire day of “taking the waters,” the only delay being the special processing of payment by credit card, a 20th century convenience that seems to have not fully made its way into Italian or Ischian culture.

After paying we asked the cashier for some tips on how to spend our day and were told to start at the pools at the highest part of the property and work our way downhill. It proved to be excellent advice and we headed uphill along a network of natural stone paths that connected the dozens of individual pools that make up the park. Along the major pathways that connect the pools were smaller offshoots leading to terraces upon which a half dozen to dozen beach chairs and umbrellas were scattered, offering a peaceful place to lie down, enjoy the surroundings and soak up the sun. We made our way toward the first of the ten or so pools we would try out during the day and found a shady terrace that had not yet been discovered by the hoards and proceeded to lay down and drift off to sleep. Despite the constant foot traffic just meters away, the tranquility of Negombo that comes from the wildness and naturalness of its setting as well as the warm sun and cooling breeze that are a constant feature of Ischia make this a place of relaxation. Within minutes we were sleeping as deeply as Dorothy and friends in a field of poppies.

But we were not going to sleep away this day and waste our €34, so finally we rose and made the final hundred meter walk to the first pool which was, in fact a series of three pools. There, a dozen or so Italians floated and lounged in the shallow waters, invading each others’ personal space without noticing or caring. Slightly apprehensive we slipped into the warm waters and found a relatively body free corner and began to understand why no one seemed to care that they were sharing this space with complete strangers or that body parts were only partly concealed (both female and male). Modesty and a sense of privacy seemed to evaporate as soon as we entered the warm, soothing waters, replaced by a sense of tranquility and wellbeing. In the first half hour since our arrival we had gone from uptight to unwound, and fit in a nice nap to boot!

We lounged in the waters of the first pool for five minutes or so, then lumbered over a levee to the attached second pond where an elderly Italian woman lay sprawled across a rock, partially submerged in the warm waters, partially exposed to the sun (and partially exposing herself to us). Her pose, following the contour of the makeshift rock chaise on which she was reclining was of the “come hither” type and her eyes were in a trancelike state. Then she uttered, to no one in particular “perfetto relax.” Perfect relaxation indeed. No translation needed.

After enjoying the first of the many pools we would sample we moved onto the second, which was actually a part of the first, a waterfall formed by the overflow from the first pool, where one would stand and allow the water to pound on one’s back, arms, neck, shoulder and head, the force relaxing tired muscles and serving as another example of the therapeutic powers of this water. From there we moved to a cavelike structure that included several small pools, once again crowded with couples enjoying one another’s company and out of place soloists. At one end of the cave was a narrow dark passage that my eyes, unaccustomed to the dark could not see into. I took a few steps and ran into someone or something, deciding that whatever lay in that tunnel could not be worth the potential embarrassment of grabbing or brushing up against who knows what, so I retired back to the pool with the creepy soloist and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark. A few moments later I was back in the dark tunnel, inching my way up some narrow stairs on which a half dozen people were sitting, taking in the vapors of this subterranean steam room. The darkness (I could make out a little in the room now) and the sulfury hot steam was totally unexpected and with the occasional splashing of the steamy hot water that ran down a small channel along the steps on the face was yet another sensory avenue that had heretofore lay dormant. On the way out of the cave I stopped at a small opening that contained a well of water and a bucket and doused myself in the cold water as I had seen others do. Meriviglioso!

The next pool was an outdoor one punctuated by a dozen or so huge rectangular slabs looking somewhat like Easter Island statues, with water pouring out the top. Here, like the waterfall in the first pool, the hot water acted as a massage. This was getting fun.

We skipped a few pools before finishing with the Japanese labyrinth, a rectangular pool with a divider in the middle creating a sort of oval race track. The pool was filled with very hot water on one side and dozens of bathers walked through the scalding water in single file, immersed up to just above their knees. When we reached the end you emerged from the water, made the turn and descended into the second side which was like the first with water only covering the legs, but this time the water was frigid. I made three or four circuits of this Bataan Death March, thinking that this shock treatment of hot and cold was probably good for the circulation in the legs. Oh, did I mention that the bottom of the pool was covered with large stones probably to improve the circulation in your feet as well.

There were perhaps another five or ten pools at Negombo but we had had our fill and retired to the “oyster bar” restaurant which, surprisingly did not offer oysters. Instead we had a wonderful couple of salads with impossibly great tomatoes and a bottle of local Ischian wine. And after lunch Suzy lazed in the sun while I wandered the beach and took in a few more hot tubs.

Negombo was our first Italian spa experience (other than the occasional private massage) and it was a terrific get to know you experience. In fact, we enjoyed it so much that once I get into town to buy a speedo, we’ll be heading off to Ischia’s other top spa, the Poseidon. Don’t worry, we won’t be posting any pictures of that visit.

Ci vediamo!
Bill and Suzy