Chapter 40

Freedoms

"Italian Customs..." said a voice and the light went on violently. 

Where was I? Ah yes, on the train. We were on our way home." 

"Something to declare?" asked a voice with a strong Neapolitan accent. I turned around in the bunk and looking down met two charcoal eyes. "Something to declare, cigarettes, coffee?" and I was suddenly woken up.

"Coffee... did he say coffee?" I said in an indignant voice. "It would be absurd to bring coffee from abroad with all those extensive plantations that we have here, do you drink the best coffee in Italy? In Naples. Exceptional. Those who drink it never forget it." I sat down and looked into the charcoal eyes: "Do you know about coffee?" I asked.

"Modestly, I come from Naples..." said the customs officer, straightening up proudly.

"Are you really saying that?! Did you hear that mother, and from Naples!" and I leaned over to look at Mom lying in the bunk under mine. "Naples... sun... moon... Marechiaro..." I sighed. Then returning to my normal position: "You drink the best coffee in Naples... help me remember the name, and a long and narrow place in via dei Mille, a small place where they make a great coffee, what a coffee!" 

"Bar Cimino?"