Once upon a very hot Neapolitan day.

Boy, is Naples hot.

In the south of Italy, it boasts summers that are properly hot. The pavement is melting -; you are driving down the street and your car or scooter wheels are gently sinking in the tarmac -; you hydrate and twenty minutes later you have sweated all your hydration -; you are walking down the street and the piles of rubbish they have left outside pizzerias, restaurants and street corners impregnate the air-; hot.

Not the kind of hot you get in London, which sometimes lasts up to a couple of days in the middle of July and appears again for a couple of more days in August hot.

The kind of hot that stays with you each day, every day from the start of June to the end of September. The kind of heat that suffocates you and that sometimes you just wish it would leave you alone.

That is how I felt when, after hours of walking down the streets with the sun blasting full on from above, I found the comfort and the chill of Galleria Umberto I.

I sat under this roof and appreciated that it screened me from the sun.

 

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