UNA NOTTE A NAPOLI
NAPLES, Italy "You MUST lock the door. Even when someone goes to the toilet. Lock the door. The corridor is dangerous? Do you understand? LOCK THE DOOR!"
At first we scoff, bold travelers in the women-only carriage of the Napoli-Monfalcone night train. But the atmosphere grows steadily seedier as the train limps north.
"Lock the door," the conductor repeats again and again. My eyes now lemur large and alarmed reflect in the darkened window, as Apennine stations slide past.
And so we endure the night: an environmental-journalism student, the Asian-Venetian girl flaunting front and back cleavage, the peroxided mother who gabs on her telefonino and feeds her four-year-old a chocolate egg at midnight.
Sugar-injected, the tot ricochets around the sleeping car, but he won't escape.
Because one thing's certain on the northbound Naples night train: that door is locked, locked, locked.