Castel dell'Ovo
Via Eldorado, 3, Napoli, 80132 NA, Italia
Villas, Ancient Palaces & Castles
We don’t really know where to start… we could begin telling you about the Greek colonizers’ story, when they visited Cuma and Pitecusa (Ischia), and when they got to Megaride, the tuff isle, to lay the foundation of a new city (Nea-Polis, or rather New York if they were English); at the time this little isle was few metres far away from the mainland. Or we could tell you about the legend about Partenope, the beautiful mermaid, who decided, exhausted, to die exactly here, after being rejected by Ulisse, and giving her name to the ancient city.
We could even go into a detailed description about a story from 300 A.C. regarding Virgilio’s Egg: apparently the Latin poet hung an iron cage, containing a water pitcher and an egg, to an oak beam in the castle’s basement. Legend has it that the egg itself was holding the castle and the city’s destiny: for that reason, during the seaquake in 1370 – which almost destroyed the castle, people were scared the egg broke. To fix the situation and bring peace back to the city, Queen Giovanna I was forced to swear the egg had been swapped with another one in front of her eyes.
We also have to mention the dead of the last Roman Imperator, Romolo Augustolo, who – after being deposed in 476 A.C. – decided to spend in the castle the rest of his days. “Castel dell’Ovo” was very different at the time, more lush and lavish as the general Lucullo used to live there, and he was that kind of aristocrat who doesn’t care about spending money (a kind of Richard Branson of that time); from him, indeed, the word “Lucullian”, which means a place particularly elegant.
Still, we could talk about all the very famous prisoners, such as Tommaso Campanella or Corradino di Svevia, or even about the size of its doors, which are very small because of the average height of people at the time (an hobbit’s population).
We could tell you about each room in the castle, which has a secret door used to run away during wars.
