We found the Alibus bus signpost but the red bus waiting there didn't say it was an Alibus and it wasn't the  same as the green one in the screenshot above. There were no signs anywhere in or out of the bus saying where it was going, nor could either of us speak enough Italian to ask the question. There being no alternative, we joined the long queue, our ticket was accepted and we sat down. Bizarrely even though there was still a long queue it soon moved off with only a few of us aboard, only to do a big loop and end up where it started, and take on many more people until it was jam packed with many standing. Then we were off again, a fairly long journey through heavy urban traffic and a bit of motorway, before finally arriving at a large open area in the middle of Naples with various bus stops dotted about. I was expecting a bus station and had forgotten Napoli Centrale is actually a train station. The penny still hadn't dropped when I spotted a row of taxis that we now headed towards.

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Following Tom's recomendation, we requested 'Tariffa fisa per favore', a fixed fare. The driver looked at us humorously and said in English 'Of course'. We got in and showed him the address to Hotel Toledo and he drove off. During the ~20 minute journey the driver revealed his brother owned a pizza restaurant in Salford, England which significantly broke the ice.

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He dropped us off in what looked like the shopping centre of Naples, pointing uphill from the front of his taxi, saying he was unable to go further, but if we walked ~100m we would find our hotel. He charged us €35 including a tip, but Tom had warned it would not be cheap. There was no sign of the hotel and as the driver left smiling, we were not entirely certain if we could believe him, but headed upward as he had suggested, awkwardly carrying our heavy rucksacks through large shopping crowds until we reached the wide Via Toledo where I spotted our Hotel's road name Via Montecalvano on the corner of a narrow passage on the opposite side, in the Quartieri Spagnoli (Spanish Quarter) of Naples.

We followed the cobbled passage uphill, passing a pizza shop and restaurants with chairs and tables straddling the alley, crossed an intersection where mopeds frantically buzzed past and not long after, Hotel Toledo emerged. I had envisaged a large open entrance and foyer but instead there was a normal glass door with stickers and a brown metal frame with a dark interior and a doorbell up to the right. We pressed it and a few moments passed before it unlocked and we walked in, finding ourselves in a tiny space with a tiny lift door to the right, stairs to the left and nestled below them, a nice young man sitting at a tiny desk in the small space that remained. You would be lucky to get more than 6 people in the room. Nevertheless greetings and passports exchanged, the smiling man politely welcomed us in.

He said our room was two floors up but we could take the lift, which was just big enough for 2 people. As we moved towards it, the front door opened and a sizeable middle-aged Western woman with a walking stick appeared with a huge vertical suitcase, its wheels somewhat precariously balanced on the inclining cobblestones. She didn't look the type to be climbing volcanoes, but the coincidence seemed too likely to dismiss. The lift emerged into a wide room resembling a lounge with a (closed) bar, settee, and armchairs. Walking across and opening a door nearby, a small corridor appeared, our room to the right.

The room was basic and rather dark, the requested single beds were a double and when I eventually settled down to sleep on the side furthest from the window, I found a huge dip in the middle and an exposed mattress spring digging into my right side. The window had no conventional curtain  but instead a sheer curtain hung about a foot away covering some but not all of it, its purpose probably to obscure the view from the building opposite, but useless at blocking out light. The window did not fully close and we had to endure all-night street noise from the multitude of restaurants and bars two floors below. To add further insult, there was a perpetual stench of drain from the adjoining en-suite, which meant keeping the door shut that was noisy to open and close, and when fully open, almost touched the bed.​

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Tom arranged for everyone to meet at 18:30 in the lounge, where we first met him and Florian Lenk, an offical Naples tour guide with a very informative website: https://napolitrip.com/ueber-mich. Two of our companions were delayed but everyone else was there. Total: 12 of us, plus Florian, Tom and his partner.

Tom handed out copies of a very impressive, 90-page comprehensive synopsis of the Tour, its volcanoes and their characteristics, complete with a glossary and references. After introductions and a short talk, at 19:30 he guided us out on a 2km walk to the Zi Teresa (Sunny Day) restaurant for our first dinner (click on the red dot via the above link for the restaurant menu etc). Pausing halfway at the impressive Piazza del Plebiscito and opposing Palazzo Reale di Napoli whose histories Florian explained, we finally reached our pre-arranged single long table on the harbour quay at Porticciolo di Santa Lucia.
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The menu was in Italian and although Tom gave an initial introduction, the sheer size of it coupled with him being at the opposite end of the table meant I misheard most of it, but he started the ball rolling by ordering a huge selection of magnificent starters for everybody to try, after which most of us were too stuffed for a main meal anyway. Unknown to us, this was to be the way of all dinners, accompanied by a generous supply of bottled wines, for the Grand Tour was to closely celebrate its aristocratic past.

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Fish isn't really my thing and there were plenty of other options but I reasoned it should be the best given the location. Having seen huge main meals delivered to other tables, I opted for what Tom described as a plate of many small fish about 2" long, thinking I'd get whitebait which I quite enjoy.

What arrived was two different 7" full fishes, several large prawns and several variants of octopus and squid, all deep fried in batter, no veg. In fact it all looked so different to lots of small fish that at first I thought I'd been given the wrong plate and got up to ask for what I expected, explaining most of it wasn't fish, which was met with unexpected indigation from the waiter. Apparently octopus, squid and prawns are all 'fish' in Italy and 'big fish' are a yard long. I then remembered I should have known better given past experience in foreign lands, and duly accepted my fish dish which wasn't bad, and once the head and tail were off the fish were indeed not that big. Most of the group were too full for sweet but I had just enough room for a volcanic namesake Vesuvietto, see menu in link above. Tom offered a shot of Limoncello that was to become a regular dinner top-off, and we arrived back at the Hotel ~23:30.