The odd custom of promenading

IT SEEMS TO be some sort of high church day today (Sunday).

In the morning, there's an open-air mass said to the gathered crowds in front of Pompei's massive cathederal. And people have been streaming in since yesterday - our hotel seems full to overflowing with visitors, mainly Italian.

We are told, upon enquiry, that it is the feast of St Francis of Assissi - a native, it seems, of these parts.

Now, it is a well-known belief in the Roman church that saints have the power to perform miracles - even long-dead ones, and the spectacle of these crowds is marked by the number of people on crutches and in wheelchairs.

Whether any such miracles have occured we haven't been able to ascertain.

Nevertheless, come the evening, there does appear to be something of a carnival atmostphere about the town, with more people than ever promenading around the place - there must be thousands of folk, all dressed up to the nines, milling around, back and forth, back and forth - all evening long.

We return from our favourite restaurant at about 10pm and the throngs are still there - still moving back and forth, up and down.

It goes on until about midnight, this odd entertainment, and then with much honking of horns, squealing of brakes and a great animated yelling of insults, the cars and motorbikes and Lambretta type scooters start up all at once, and leave the town centre for their homes in the seedy suburbs of Pompei and Naples.

The centre of town, by the early hours looks as if it has been ravaged by the marauding hordes - I've never seen so much filth and litter anywhere except perhaps after a Glastonbury Festival.

As I understand it, this odd custom of promenading takes place every weekend, and yes, in a smaller way, most evenings, too. We tried it ourselves once, but it proved to be a rather barren form of amusement to us.

The Italians think highly of it, though.