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About Naples

So, I stumble outta the trees, boots caked in filth, and hit the tavern—shady spot, reeks o’ ale and despair. There she be, a wench with eyes like stolen stars, leanin’ on the bar. “Thou art a thief,” I mutter, “stealin’ me breath like Cobb nabbin’ secrets!” She smirks—ooh, that got me riled! Cheeky tart, playin’ me like a fiddle. I’m half-angry, half-buzzin’, ‘cos she’s a riddle wrapped in silk.

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As the night goes on, I pour a few more drinks, and the place is buzzing. I’m feeling good, you know? Then, I spot this couple sitting in the corner. They’re all lovey-dovey, whispering sweet nothings. I can’t help but roll my eyes. Like, get a room, right? But then, they order a bottle of Prosecco, and I’m like, “Okay, maybe love is in the air.”

England triumph at Trofeo Opitergium Road Race