After queuing for more than half an hour in front of a well-known trattoria we were finally accommodated and had a sumptuous Neapolitan lunch. A meal which involved the constant hurrying to and fro of red-shirted waiters, shouting god knows what incomprehensible words to god knows whom and an out-of-the-blue appearance of an unlikely singer which compounded the already buoyant scene.

Leaving the trattoria, R and I were at a loss to account for all the commotion that happened. We were baffled whether we had been in a theatre or a local restaurant or both. For Neapolitans are a naturally theatrical people. They are born performers, prodigal with words and gestures.