Ciao from Italy.

I've been busy and have fallen behind so I'll skip a few ports and catch up later.

I'm sitting on the deck in Civitavecchia, the closest port to Rome.

Yesterday we were in Napoli. What a wonderful day!

We went on a ship's tour that Patricia had chosen. It took us to the Amalfi coast and Pompeii.

Off in the coach we went with our numbers stuck to our chests so we wouldn't get lost. I hate having to wear numbers so I always lose mine very quickly.

The route we took gave us spectacular coastal views and even seawards as far as Capri. It was beautiful and reminded me vividly of the last time Alan and I drove along that stretch of coastline back in the 1960s in our little blue Triumph Spitfire.

Since Greece I've been suffering from severe nostalgia for our lost youth. It's so strong a feeling that I can almost taste it. It's been brought on, of course, by the revisiting of places where we used to hang out in summers past, when we were whole of body and fit and YOUNG!! And we looked OK in those days, too.

Oh, woe are those who have aged not well. Inshallah we don't need walking frames. Yet!

At Salerno we boarded a boat for a cruise north along the coast as far as Amalfi, passing several caves on the waterline. We watched a small boat emerge from one and wished that our boat was small enough to enter it as well.

It was a beautiful sunny day, not too hot, with a cool breeze to keep the temperature just perfect. We passed some small beachside towns with crowded pebbly beaches which were covered with rows of umbrellas lined up with regimental precision. This stretch of coast was the playground of wealthy Romans and there are many ancient piles dating from Roman times. Almost every headland had its own fort for protection and many of these seem to be still in good repair.

A pair of towns with interesting Roman names we passed was a larger one called Majori and its sister town, which is just around the intervening headland and which is much smaller, is called Minori. Big and Little. No pretty names for them!

We disembarked at Amalfi for a wander around. It is a beautiful little town with a square edged on one side by a black and white stone church, accessed by wide steep stairs. There are pavement cafes and interesting and quaint shops on the other three sides. Amalfi is famed for limoncello so I had to buy some, of course. It's in a pretty hand painted bottle so is a good souvenir. Further up the street I came across a greengrocer selling the most enormous limons and pomodoros. Not sure if that's right but I think that's Italian for lemons and tomatoes. Anyhow, they were huge! They must have been at least 14cm + in diameter. I would have liked to have bought some but had no use for them. I did, though, buy half a kilo of luscious, deep red, juicy cherries and two rosy plump peaches.

The cherries were large and tasted like ambrosia. We ate a few on the spot but kept the rest in our frig for later. I gave a handful to our cabin steward which made him very happy. I feel sorry for the cabin stewards as they seem to spend most of their time underground like troglodytes, rarely seeing daylight.

After browsing a little longer we returned to the square to one of the cafes. I had a coffee, the best since leaving Australia, and the others had Italian beer.

We chugged back to Salerno and hopped aboard the coach which took us to a castle high on the mountain above the town, where we were to have lunch. Having left the coach, we trailed uphill on a pine needle covered path which led us through a pine forest redolent with the fragrance of, yes, you're right, essence of pine. Every couple of metres there was a lantern which would be lit at night. It was truly wonderful in daytime. Can you imagine how romantic it would be at night?

Once at the castle, we were awed by the stupendous view, straight out of a movie. We fed our eyes with the beauty and our stomachs with cannelloni and wine. Bellissimo!

Next stop was Pompeii.

We had visited Pompeii back in the 60s. It is very different today - very organised and more extensive. I remember that there were amphora lying still in the places where they'd toppled on that dreadful day, but now they are all lined up on shelves in a covered storage area. It seemed that there were more houses with murals and mosaic floors than are visible today and I'm sure I remember seeing a body of a man and one of a dog still sprawled where they fell but they, too, have been moved.

It's still a fascinating insight into the daily life of people who lived so long ago. The streets paved with stone, the mounting blocks to enable fat Pompeians to mount their horses with ease still waiting, the ruts worn into the roads by countless iron trimmed wheels, the shops with counters open to the street, the theatre still waiting for the next performance.

But if you stand on the front step of one of the houses, close your eyes and transport yourself back in time, you can imagine the events in that Pompeian street on that day and experience a tragedy so intense that it is almost unbearable. Think of it - the booms and roaring of the eruption, the stench of the poisonous gas that followed, the screams as people fled in terror and the desperation of those who tried to shelter inside, futilely blocking the windows and doors frames with cloth against the gas and hot ash that pervaded the air. Then the hot lava and finally silence.

A whole city extinct.

The ultimate tragedy.

For us, although the visit to Pompeii was sobering, it was a day to look back on with great enjoyment.

Ciao, ciao.

Tomorrow, Civitavecchia.