One of the smallest dots in the Gulf of Naples and the most densely inhabited island in the Med,
Procida barely stretches out to four square kilometres (one-and-a-half square miles), but its
population explodes from a low-season 11,000 to up to 22,000 in August. And yet, even with the crowds, the island
has its own particular charm.
In the past, the local economy revolved around lemon groves and the sea ‑ Procida has produced generations of
fishermen and sailors. Today, though, it's tourism that fills the coffers: smart cafés and restaurants line
the harbours, and yachts tie up at gleaming Marina Grande. On the down side, cheaply built holiday homes have
sprouted in the old orchards, lemons rot unpicked and in August the place really heaves. But even then there's still
space to stroll through lemon groves, savour a freshly made granita di limone (lemon ice) or watch the day's
catch being offloaded from boats: a perfect way to spend a few days' break away from the hustle of Naples.
Frequent Saracen attacks in the Middle Ages forced the villagers to flee to the highest point of the island,
Terra Murata. The characteristic local architecture, with its steep staircases, arches and loggias, dates
back to this period.
Procida really began to develop in the XVI century, despite continuing attacks by pirates. (In 1544, according to
local legend, Barbarossa the barbarian fled the island after a miraculous vision of St Michael in the Terra Murata,
but not before indulging in a little rape and pillage). Medieval Terra Murata was fortified after 1520, but the
defence mentality was already fading by then. Prosperous families from the mainland built summer homes on the
island, shipbuilders constructed family palazzi, and the population ventured outside the walls to make
Marina Grande the centre of the fishing industry. Sailing ships were built next to the port until the end of the XIX
century.
This was a favourite haunt of the Bourbon kings who, in 1744, bought the Castello d'Avalos and did the island the
dubious honour of turning it into a royal hunting reserve.
Approaching Procida by ferry, the view is dominated by the formidable Castello – an Italian Alcatraz until
1986 ‑ surrounded by the gently faded colours of the fishermen's houses, with their traditional arches and
loggias.
Ferries dock in the Marina Grande among the fishing boats moored in front of modern cafés
and restaurants. Old men sit on the edge of the wharf mending their nets. The fish stalls ‑ all run by
fishermen ‑ open in the afternoon (4pm until the catch is sold out, Monday to Friday). They sell only what they
have caught that day from the Canale di Procida: prawns, red mullet and squid, as well as the familiar misto di
paranza (small fish and seafood caught in the fishermen's nets) for frying. Towards the eastern end of the
Marina Grande, by the church of Santa Maria della Pietà (1760), the steep via Vittorio Emanriele leads off to
the right up into the centre of the island. Some 100 metres (350 feet) further on the left, via Principe Umberto,
with its old houses (peek through open gate, to see the traditional courtyards and gardens), leads to piazza dei
Martiri. From here, catch the view of the castle and the Terra Murata above, with the enchanting
fishing village of Corricella below.
The road continues steeply past the forlorn, abandoned Castello d'Avalos. Built in the mid XVI century, the castle
belonged to the D'Avalos family until it was bought by the Bourbon kings in 1744.
From here it's not far to the Porta di Mezz' omo (1563), which leads into the medieval Terra
Murata walled village. Now you're up so high that there are breathtaking views over Naples and
Capri, especially from via Borgo at the top of the hill, where the Abbazia di San Michele Arcangelo
is built on the edge of the sheer rock. Dating back to the XI century, but remodelled in the XVII-XIX
centuries, the abbey has a painting (1699) by Luca Giordano of Archangel Michael on its coffered ceiling. Inside the
building is an 8,000 strong religious manuscript library, a museum containing religious thank-you pictures from
shipwrecked sailors, a 18th-century Nativity scene, and a maze of catacombs (once the local cemetery) leading on to
a secret chapel.