As expected, the coach party arrive too late for afternoon tea, but Rob and Ivy enjoy the evening meal of soup, local fish and vegetables, followed by a slice of chocolate torta, served in a cavernous dining room located in the centre of the hotel’s first floor. A tiled floor, chipped in places, its garish red and gold pattern uneasy on the eye, forces diners’ attention upwards to the dusty chandeliers hanging above round tables covered with white tablecloths. Each table has seating for twelve, the heavy wooden chairs painted gold with worn red brocade inserts. Curved windowless walls have been painted with images of local land and seascapes, faded like the frescoes seen in Rome. Among them are a benign Mount Vesuvius, its slopes green with vines, the ancient streets of Pompeii and the Isl
