After chatting, and getting to know some of them, she joined the party, and went to the dining room.

They enjoyed a delicious meal of pasta and a creamy basil sauce, followed by fresh fruit salad, and coffee. Back on the patio, catching the last of the sun, the party chatted again, until the sun started to sink. Mary leaned back in her chair, and thought of Finnegans, so far away, and June, in Wales. She wondered if the weather was as perfect as this.

As the shadows crept around the gardens, small lights flickered on around the trees. It was delightful!

Shortly, the crowd started to drift to their rooms, tired from the excitement, and the flight. An early night for all, ready for an early start the following day, and off to Capri. As she made her way to her room, Mary mused on the pleasantness of the group of people, who were to be her companions for the next several days. About 8 or 9 men in their late forties and early fifties, and about 20 women, ranging from 30 to 60, made up the group.

The following day, waking to bright sunshine, the coach was soon on its way to the port and the hovercraft, which would transport them to Capri.

On Capri they took the funicular railway up to the heights, where the gardens and walkways were. The view was out of this world. As the railway pulled them up, they looked back on the shimmering sea, and the mountains.

The vegetation on the island was lush, green and colourful. Various gardens, with different themes, were linked by winding paths. Old statues and arches dotted the greenery. Small green lizards skittered across the path nervously.

Peering over the low walls, houses below looked tiny and far away. "Look," cried one woman, "I can see Gracie Fields' house." Everyone craned to see, cameras flashing, including Mary's.

Sitting in the shade, Mary still found it difficult to believe, "I'm really here," she breathed. The tiny lizards, and the strutting peacocks, added to her sense of unreality

All too soon the day came to an end. The crowd excitedly discussed the sights they had seen as they returned to the hotel.

After another sumptuous meal, the party retired to the patio, now splitting into small groups, as they got to know one another better. Not for long though; tired but happy, they all decided on another early night, ready for another early start the next day.

Next day, they were speeding along the motorway to Rome, the Vatican, and all the sights.

The Trevi fountain was a wonderful sight, the huge statues impressive, the square packed with tourists, all clicking away with their cameras. Mary took some lovely snaps, then made her way to the Vatican. There were tours lasting from one hour to six hours. Mary opted for the hour.

The Vatican was enormous, like a small village, and Mary happily wandered along the passages admiring the icons and murals. In the Sistine chapel the low lighting and the reverent silence seemed so right for the atmosphere. She marvelled at the freshness of the colours on the walls, as religious figures, frozen in acts related to the bible, seemed to stare back at her. The ceiling paintings seemed to be in 3d, so lifelike! St. Peter's Basilica was so interesting; looking through a small window, the chains which bound St. Peter were displayed.

The next tour was the highlight of Mary's holiday. Pompeii!

In the morning they visited Sorrento. As they ate lunch at a café, they overlooked the Bay of Biscay, and sat surrounded by orange and lemon trees. Life was voted, by all, to be perfect!

Their own tour guide passed them on to the local guides who would show them around Pompeii. As they walked around the ancient streets, they commented to each other in hushed tones, on the strange silence and the peace of the place. No bird song or animal noises, just the peace.

Several walked about conducting their various parties of tourists, each guide displaying colourful scarves tied to long canes. Any lost tourist would look for the familiar scarf, and find his guide.

The mosaics forming the pavements were still showing faint colours. Before each villa, in the courtyard, a different mosaic lay. Fawns, people, and Gods immortalised forever, giving the old buildings their titles. Inside the homes, luxurious murals were still visible on the walls. As Mary looked at the crumbling stucco, she wondered about the people who had laughed, loved, and died here.

In one villa, one of the rooms had a mural of a young couple. The guide explained that it was probably done at the time of the couple's wedding. The room would have been their bedroom. The young couple were both attractive, the woman small and dark, and the man taller and handsome.

Outside the `Villa of the Fawn ', a playful fawn, depicted in mosaic, leapt. The central heating system of the day could be seen; underground flues carried the heat from a small room at the rear of the house. Inside the room a large fireplace could be seen, the wall of the room still black with soot stains. Mary imagined the slaves, wet with sweat, toiling; throwing shovels of fuel on the fire, for the comfort of their masters.

Further on, evidence of a huge outdoor theatre showed where the ancient Romans enjoyed dramas and poetry readings. The tourists felt like silent witnesses of yesteryear.

Around a corner, a forbidding amphitheatre was evidence of cruelty, in the midst of the beauty. Here men and animals fought to the death for the amusement of the crowds! Still visible, were the small cells beneath the amphitheatre, where men and beasts alike were kept to await their fate. An air of sadness pervaded the place, a place where humanity kept other living creatures, forced to fight and die for the pleasure of the ancient Romans.

Mary found a quiet spot to rest. She sat on a stone bench in a secluded place, near to one of the old villas. She leaned back and closed her eyes. Suddenly to her astonishment, the sound of voices disturbed her, laughing and talking quietly.

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