Like the owner of this photograph, I once lost my heart there too.

On a different day than the one I visited the Blue Grotto, I and a couple of French pals took a trip out to a far corner of the island where there were more grottos and submerged caves. We dove off the cliffs nearby and swam towards them, and then in, having to make a long, risky dive through an underwater cavern. Inside, there was a large air pocket with plenty of room to move around. The light was just like in Tiffany's photo except that there was no passage out above the water line.

That night we missed the last boat back to Naples and had to sneak off to a far corner of the shore in a narrow cove, where we found a small patch of flat gravel beach, damp and alive with sand flies. We spread out our meager towels, heavy with the day's earlier swims, and slept. I used an extra pair of shorts rolled up in my day pack as a pillow. By five in the morning, the water was lapping at our toes. We got up, eager for the rising sun to meet us with its warmth, rubbing the bleariness and poor sleep from our eyes, tramping off through the damp, salty morning into the village for a hot coffee and brioche with the last couple thousand lire we had.

(via Tony again)