Neapolitan memories

We’re back in 2010. It was my first job in Australia, working with the Victorian Department of Primary Industries. We had an off-site function that day. Over the tea-break, I got to chatting with our new head of strategy. We bonded over European memories. She was not long back from an Italian trip in her previous role. I used to have a partner from Naples. I shared a memorable New Year’s Eve, crashing a penthouse party in the old town centre. Sicilian Cassata, crowds everywhere, and firecrackers thrown direct into the street from the terrace. 

Her eyes sparkled. ‘I love Naples, such a vibrant city,’ she looked around the room at our civil servant colleagues, ‘I love how spontaneous the people are.’ Then she went into reminiscent storytelling mode. ‘I was at this a café one day, there was a man standing next to me, we started talking, and spent an hour together,. It was the most interesting conversation.’ She pauses. ‘If only they were more reliable. It was so frustrating working there. I had an appointment one day. The person came an hour late. Not a warning.’ She sighed. I left a second and smiled. ‘Maybe that person was at a nearby café, and got lost in conversation with someone they just met.’ Her eyes opened a little wider. ‘ 

Often we wish that people, things or situations could be just a little different. Except sometimes – not always, but sometimes – the very thing that rubs on us is nothing but the shadow of what we find so unique, beautiful, and endearing.