It hasn’t changed much from my childhood days. Okay, so my family in Italy tells me sure it has a bit, certo, non ti ricordi i venditori ambulanti…? Perhaps, but the feeling is the same. The sounds in my beloved Neapolitan dialect, the glorious visual – bright red cherry tomatoes, deep-orange squashes and the sizzling emerald of the “friarielli”, the greens of my childhood, similar to broccoli di rape, but not quite, a specialty of the countryside around Naples, super-delicious with sausages – the scents of brioscine and cornetti fresh out of the oven, bursting with custard or jam. The piles of adorable dish towels, aprons, tablecloths for hardly anything (we’re talking about 1 euro or less, seriously), the silky tunics for 5 Euros, delicate espresso cups for next-to-nothing, and of course the traditional statuettes of Neapolitan mascot Pulcinella… My childhood and adolescence live on the market street in Portici, crazy/wild/absurd/much-loved Via Marconi, traffic jams and all. Take a look at the past that is also the present, life on a stage, melancholy, regret, heartache, love, joy, all that we are… Video-taped this October by yours truly.