We roam the streets for the atmosphere alone. It’s frenetic and keeping a straight line is impossible. Every few seconds I’m dodging scooters, other tourists and even cars. Driving around here seems like an impossibility given that you could barely have three people walking abreast.
After sundown, the space turns into an intoxicating labyrinth sprung up from nowhere, filled with little stalls crammed with rice, noodles and fried everything.
I woke up and was on my hands and knees in a split second. The sound of the rain hitting my bedroom window had sparked something. For the briefest of moments, I thought only of reefing the sails.
Except my flat doesn’t have sails. It’s not bobbing about in the middle of the Atlantic and this squall won’t threaten my life.
The fallen city in the shadow of the mighty Vesuvius I’ve been told it’s overrated. It’s ‘too touristy’. It’s not as good as people thought. Good? It’s not a word I’d…