In the paths of the memory I can look at the sites of my past: Suor Orsola Benincasa University with its cloister, its garden, its reeds. Via Luca Giordano, San Francesco steps, Gay-Odin chocolate shop, Vanvitelli square. Via Sanfelice and via Parco Margherita with their beautiful liberty buildings.
The memorial stone of the writer Edoardo Scarpetta with his witty remark “Here is where I laugh”. Mergellina, via Caracciolo, Parco Virgiliano: the first drives and then via Tribunali, Spaccanapoli and San Gregorio Armeno, the street of the holy cribs. I can recognize the familiar voices, sounds and smells wafted through the air. I perceive the imperceptible, light and deep emotions. I belong to this city, I’m part of Naples, revealed and mysterious like a Kandisky painting, noble and dignified like its soul that dawns every day shining in the words, in the eyes, in the smiles of the people.
I don’t know what makes this city so beautiful and incredible: the views, the art heritage, the colors, the flavours. I only know that Naples, like a jealous bride conceals and discloses all that can determine the pleasure of enjoying a city.