When I told people I was going to Naples, Italy, they shook their heads, frowning, looking at me as though I was more than a bit daft, wondering why on earth I wanted to visit such a ‘dangerous’ place, murmuring things about the Mafia under their breath . . . Was I really that naïve? Was a trip to Napoli a bad move? I made sure I had a money belt to keep my valuables close to me at all time, then decided to take all the necessary precautions; not to walk the streets of such a menacing place at night . . . pickpockets and muggers, I was ready for you. Trouble was, I didn’t find any. Not a single one!
The little motor bikes, scooters, they call them, are a bit of a hazard though. Beep-beeping away, weaving and darting their way between the crowds, coming at you from all directions in the narrowest of paths or the widest of streets, can be a bit disturbing at first. After a day or two, they just become part of the scenery.
From my room’s little terrace, was a breathtaking view of Mount Vesuvius that is still considered to be active (last blast in 1914 . . . a second or two by geological standards) Turning the other way, we had a beautiful view of the city . . . a fascinating city of contrasts of modern, old and ancient.