Eliza's blog: Exploring Naples

It felt only right to start my blog with a sourdough update. Arguably this hobby is now taking over my life, but I don’t hate it… One of my goals for 2026 was to perfect making sourdough. With some determination, a lot of research, investing in the right equipment and kilos of strong white bread flour, I had done it two months into the year. This was months earlier than I had expected to have mastered it. I couldn’t quite believe when the first decent loaf came out the oven and had actually risen more than a few inches. Only in a few moments of my life have I felt happiness like that. This did require a few late-night stretch and folds, middle of the night wakes to round and shape, and feeds at random hours, but every missed bit of sleep was worth it. Although I am not sure my coeliac housemate would say the same when she cannot benefit from this.

Thinking along the theme of bread and pastries, I recently went to Naples with my dad for some well-needed time away from work. I did not have any opinions on Naples before we went and maybe should have done a bit more research. Sometimes it is fun to live life on the edge though. Other than the panic of crossing the road into oncoming traffic that is seemingly not stopping, or 12-year-old children on mopeds flying down pedestrianised walkways, it was an exciting place to explore for the most part. It has a lot of character, but it took a few days to adjust to the chaos. Once I was past this point, I could appreciate everything the city had to offer. Napoli pizza, the Pompeii ruins, the murals of Maradona on any space in the city that allowed it.

On night 1, the hot tub in the apartment flooded after I had a bath. Now I know that sounds like it was my fault, but I promise I had nothing to do with it. The jet unexpectedly malfunctioned and locked itself on a setting spraying water out of the bath with extreme force for what felt like a lifetime. Whilst two of us battled to switch it off, I had the panicked thought of “what if this doesn’t ever turn off”. Water was already filling the apartment and spilling into the living room, which subsequently delayed our dinner by two hours. Whilst trying to not get angry that my night one outfit had been soaked by me battling the uncooperative jets, I remembered I was on holiday (or so it seemed). Eventually after ten minutes it turned off.

Although this was hellish to deal with, it was a memory I have with my dad that will never fail to make me laugh. The host didn’t seem too concerned be several missed calls from me with the message “there is water everywhere”. She suggested we switch the electrics off, and on which makes me think she may be aware of the hot tub situation…  

The next day after being told by the host to keep all phones in your pocket when walking around and keep values locked away, dad’s walking down the Spanish quarter with his rucksack wide open with two hundred euros hanging out. Why are all dad’s the same? Is there an age you reach where you begin looking after your parents instead because I feel it at 25. We had a Napoli football player on the flight home which created some excitement in the cabin. All in all, it was a funny trip, and I’m grateful I get to spend time with my dad like that.

My biography - Eliza (25), works in HR at an Investment Bank in the City of London. When she is not at work she spends her time playing netball, seeing friends and exploring all the coffee shops South West London has to offer.