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, Read More
Oh, to be a cat of Venice. To slink through the early morning fog of a deserted canal. To walk in the footsteps of a millenium; soft paws crossing the well-worn Venetian streets. To find a sun-kissed window sill, from which to doze and dream and watch the life of an ancient city pass by. Oh, to be a cat of Venice….