Looking over the crowds – a detail from the Duomo, Florence in Italy
“Caravaggio, Caravaggio …”
Of course we hurried. This was the troublesome young artist so famed in Naples. Long dead we thought so why here in Florence.
“Caravaggio!” The male voice was raised, impatient.
We know this young man – but we don’t – that’s why we remember
Paestum and its temples are suddenly there, on the edge of a Tarmac road in a sunny field close to the sea, just across the street from a couple of cafes and a museum.
It all seemed unreal until we met the diver …
Large tile mural by the entrance to Industria Ceramica Avallone in Vietri sul Mare
“No – no foto!” The small, elderly woman hustled through the piled plates towards us.
“Non posso fare …?” My bad Italian faltered.
“No!” Her finger flicked sternly from side to side as she halted in front of us, dark eyes flashing with suspicion.
“Who are you?” The slow English syllables were weighted with menace.
The Phraser 