Stepping out from the train station onto Piazza Garibaldi, I was struck by a mixture of midday heat, the sound of moped horns and the chaos of Naples. Riding in the back of a taxi – my life in the hands of a man who was dodging oncoming scooters as if they were dodgems – I was hit again by the energy of Napoli. Even as I wondered through back street and back street, dragging my suitcase behind me and gripping onto my camera case for dear life, I was completely and utterly enchanted by the city.
Between gazing hungrily at the selection of cakes in the pasticcerias to walking in awe around tucked away churches; it took me two whole hours to reach the tourist information centre half a mile from my hotel. From there, armed with maps and pamphlets, I headed in the general direction of the sea, in hope of coming across a bus on the way. Thankfully, God must have been on my side due to visiting all of those churches earlier, and I stumbled upon a 73 bus – perfect.
Ahhh…the sea, the volcano and a cat for company, now this is the life! Upon hopping off the bus I instantly set eyes on Vesuvius and I fell in love. People call this the ‘most beautiful bay in the world’ and you know what, I think they may just be right. I love the way the volcano sits so gracefully, watching over the city like a mother might watch a child, but to know that at any moment it can hit out and with one deadly blow destroy this beautiful city. However, at that moment there was calm, and I embraced it. I sat with my new cat friend and watched the volcano. I then searched out the perfect restaurant with a Vesuvius view and sat, for sadly too long, eating my gnocchi and gazing lovingly. For as the sun set and I finally headed off in the direction of the bus stop, I found that I had missed the last bus. Oh dear. A five mile walk back to the hotel, through Naples, in the dark, all alone and wearing flimsy and uncomfortable sandals – my mother would not be best impressed.
Now there is a moral to this story: make sure you respectfully look around churches on you next visit to a potentially dangerous city, and God will take a shine to you and protect you from muggings; well, it could have just been luck, but either way I made it back without getting killed.
Half as a way of saying thank you and half out of Italian city tradition, I went to mass bright and early the next morning. I chose my favourite church from those I had visited the previous day, so that I could gaze at the beautiful murals whilst pretending to understand what the Priest was saying.
So began my final day in Florence. First, I visited the absolutely astonishing undergound excavations of a Roman street and then I gathered all of my strength to take the long walk to the Museo Nazionale. By the end, my feet hurt and I needed the comfort of an air conditioned shop and new clothes, however to my horror absoultely nothing was open. Oh well, that’s what you get for visiting a Catholic city on a Sunday I suppose.
Finally, at 4:35 I boarded my train back to Terracina. My feet felt like they were about to drop off and I think that I’ve been left with permanent damage from having a bloody heavy camera dangling from my neck the whole weekend, however I’m alive. So ciao for now Napoli and I do hope that we can soon meet again.
To The Table 
