Jo had chased the dodgy lads away from the van, sprinting up the street towards the other key landmark in the vicinity, the hospital for incurable diseases! We got all the luggage and bikes into the hostel, which is really nice inside, and then I drove the van round to a secure garage just round the block. It sounds simple, but because cars are just left haphazardly in the narrow streets, getting the van through was nigh on impossible! No wonder Jo looked frazzled! With Jo and Martin’s help (we’d barely had time even to say hello!) we shuffled, backed and edged the van through, all the while with those bl**dy scooters pappong their horns and squeezing through the narrowest of gaps as if it was a matter of life and death that they should wait for ten seconds. One guy virtually took Jo’s toes off and just grinned; a woman who I edged past with the wing mirror miilimetres from her ear gave me a bovine look of sheer apathy that I had last seen following a milking herd on the road to Laneshawbridge! We finally got the van into a dark, dingy underground car park, and a swarthy character took €30 and the keys and we walked back to the hostel, in cycling kit, via the incurable hospital, which itself looks a tad tatty to say the least!
We got out for a meal on the local area, and, with the van and belongings at least secure, we found a family-run trattoria and had a marvellous meal. After a brief saunter in the vibrant and warm streets the girls and the kids returned to the hostel whilst Bernard, Martin and I had a beer. On our return, we found the crew playing international Uno in the hostel, with Arthur from Austria (hi Arthur!) and Atenai and Renato from Chile (hi both!). A good end to a fraught 80-mile day, but Naples hadn’t finished with us yet!