Read The Italian Affair for Free Online

sounds brilliant and it might clear my head a bit. I’m not sure how long I‘m going to be here so seeing as much as I can early on would be really great so thanks so much for asking.”
    As they wandered back up the stone stairs to the school, Issy felt that maybe her decision to come here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
    “This may well turn out to be just what I needed,” Issy thought as she entered the school to be inducted into the nomadic world of Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL).

 
     
    Naples – Ravello 12.30pm local time August 30th 1986
     
    As the Neapolitans were preparing their lunch before their obligatory siesta, Dan and Issy exited the city unnoticed in tandem on the back of a dusty yellow Vespa.
    The journey to the coast, unlike the one back from the airport, was relatively traffic free. As they drove through the ancient and cobbled narrow streets of mid-town and then down-town Naples, the smells of roasted meat infused with garlic wafted through open windows and doorways.
    Big rotund mamas, some dressed in black, laboured over large metal pans and the intricate preparations for a hearty Neapolitan family lunch.
    High above them washing that spanned the generations, fluttered gently in the breeze haphazardly strung out to dry in the midday sun. Old men sat on rickety chairs and loitered in the shade, playing cards and chain-smoking, waiting for their women folk to serve the food.
    That day, there were other things that Issy noticed from the back of Dan’s yellow Vespa that were peculiar to her.
    The first was the way ALL Neapolitans used their hands and bodies when they spoke in an extreme and exaggerated fashion. Italians do it generally, but the Neapolitans REALLY do it. And when you witness it, it is like watching a live comedy played out in a giant Amphitheatre.
    Issy had watched Gennaro and Pasquale in her flat on Saturday contorting themselves to explain things. But watching a whole city in action as they played out how they felt as a kind of prelude to eating their lunchtime plate of pasta was a spectacle to behold.
    Different finger digits and hand movements were used to weigh up situations, be rude about someone or to reinforce particularly important points that were being made. Compared to the English, who were so reserved with their feelings about anything, it felt strangely liberating that expressiveness was celebrated so freely.
    Issy closed her eyes and breathed in the atmosphere and thought about whether living somewhere so expressive would open up the well of emotions that had been dormant for so many years before Jeremy had recharged her with a new and vibrant energy.
    As these random thoughts entered her head she decided to just revel in the drama, taking in each and every new sensation and smell as they wound their way down through the myriad of cobbled streets that led them closer to the ancient city centre.
    “We’re just about to drive through the most ancient part of the city, which isn’t the safest of places” Dan shouted above the noise and frenzy of Vespas, shoppers and loiterers. “Just be careful and hold onto your bag,” he continued. “There are thieves around and you need to keep your personal possessions as close to you as possible.”
    “Ok,” Issy shouted back as they passed eerily lit religious statues and figurines that sat within roadside shrines each one either wearing a garland of old flowers or rosary beads with other mementos to invoke the power of God.
    Whilst still hot, the density of the living quarters in this part of town blocked out the golden sunlight making everything appear dark giving the streets and the people an air of foreboding and danger. At almost every street corner men furtively sat on wooden fruit containers.
    “Why are all those men selling cigarettes and lighters on street corners?” Issy shouted to Dan from the back of the Vespa.
    “It’s the black market or the contraband as it‘s known locally.” Dan