Postcard from Ravello

Down to Ravello for a few days to do nothing-very-much, after a busy stay in Naples (not a city we really knew at all, so a great deal to see!).

For holiday entertainment — having speedily devoured Kate Atkinson’s immensely readable new Transcription, picked up at the airport — I’ve been reading Norman Lewis’s classic Naples ’44.

No, perhaps entertainment is not quite the right word. The wartime diary is wonderfully well written, and often wryly amusing. But too many scenes are cruel reminders of how fragile our social order can be. Not perhaps what I needed right now. I just get all the more angry at the mad Brexiteers’ casual destructiveness.

And there I was, promising myself a temporary holiday from fretting about all that …

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