‘Chi pecora se fa’ ‘o lupo s’ ‘a magna’ – behave like a sheep and the wolf will eat you.
‘What a beautiful day.
We’re not scared.‘
On a hot weekend afternoon we crammed four bodies into our Fiat 500 and headed down to the Naple’s seafront for a stroll and a pizza. The only obstacle between us and the chef was the tangenziale.
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Naples, two thirds of the way down Italy’s west coast, is the country’s third largest city with a population of 2.373 million. It sprawls up from the bay at its feet and is separated from the Amalfi Coast by Vesuvius and Pompeii. Centuries of geologists, historians, artists, and adventurers have all visited its treasures and each has left their mark on a city that is now tourist-wise and wary. This summer we called in – our first encounter of substance was with the tangenziale.
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Found!
Twenty sunburnt toes dig into the sand. The giggling stops as two little bodies tense then crane their faces up over the dune grass.
“Shhh!” The heads drop down close to the sand. “She’s looking!”
The Phraser 