Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (portrait by Stieler 1828)
There are names I heard at school that are still buried beneath teacher dust. Names I’ve never looked at again – unreachable, academic names. Goethe was one of them.
Then, a few weeks ago, I bumped into him on the internet and I read his notes on Naples. They were a happy find.
Early morning outside the Aeroporto Internazionale di Napoli.
Most airports I’ve met recently are soulless travel malls … apart from one – the Aeroporto Internazionale di Napoli.
Looking over the top of the Villa Arianna in Stabiae towards Vesuvius
We stand in a mid-day drowse, like the citizens of ancient Rome must have stood – the sun is warm; the sea glistens; and there is the distant rise and fall of bells. Behind us roll green hills and to our front, the double-backed outline of Vesuvius steals the horizon.
So peaceful … yet it never has been, and still is not. There remains a threat below the surface.
The Phraser 