I met a young Australian girl last week who was backpacking through Europe for the first time in her life. I gave her directions to the train station. She was heading up to Slovenia, just to check it out. When I heard her plans, I was stricken with such a dumb spasm of jealousy, thinking, I want to go to Slovenia! How come I never get to travel anywhere?

上个星期我遇上一位澳洲姑娘，背着背包从事她有生以来的头一次欧洲之旅。我为她指点去火车站的路。她正要前往斯洛文尼亚游览。我听到她谈及她的计划时，心中一阵妒忌，心想：“我也想去斯洛文尼亚！为什么我从没去任何地方旅行？”

Now, to the innocent eye it might appear that I already am traveling. And longing to travel while you are already traveling is, I admit, a kind of greedy madness. It's kind of like fantasizing about having sex with your favorite movie star while you're having sex with your other favorite movie star. But the fact that this girl asked directions from me (clearly, in her mind, a civilian) suggests that I am not technically traveling in Rome, but living here. However temporary it may be, I am a civilian. When I ran into the girl, in fact, I was just on my way to pay my electricity bill, which is not something travelers worry about. Traveling-to-a-place energy and living-in-a-place energy are two fundamentally different energies, and something about meeting this Australian girl on her way to Slovenia just gave me such a jones to hit the road.

以简单的眼光来看，我已正在旅行。已经在旅行的时候渴望旅行，我承认是一种贪婪的疯狂行为。就像和你爱慕的电影明星做爱的同时，又幻想和另一个你爱慕的电影明星做爱。但这名女孩向我问路（显然，在她心目中，我是罗马市民）的事实说明，实际上我并非在罗马旅行，而是在罗马定居。无论时间多么短暂，我都是市民了。事实上，碰上这位姑娘时，我正要去付电费，这可不是旅人担心的事情“在某地旅行”的精力和“在某地定居”的精力，基本上是不同的精力，遇上这位即将前往斯洛文尼亚的姑娘，刺激了我上路的瘾头。

And that's why I called my friend Sofie and said, "Let's go down to Naples for the day and eat some pizza!"

于是我打电话给苏菲，说：“我们今天往南去那不勒斯吃比萨饼吧。”

Immediately, just a few hours later, we are on the train, and then—like magic—we are there. I instantly love Naples. Wild, raucous, noisy, dirty, balls-out Naples. An anthill inside a rabbit warren, with all the exoticism of a Middle Eastern bazaar and a touch of New Orleans voodoo. A tripped-out, dangerous and cheerful nuthouse. My friend Wade came to Naples in the 1970s and was mugged . . . in a museum. The city is all decorated with the laundry that hangs from every window and dangles across every street; everybody's fresh-washed undershirts and brassieres flapping in the wind like Tibetan prayer flags. There is not a street in Naples in which some tough little kid in shorts and mismatched socks is not screaming up from the sidewalk to some other tough little kid on a rooftop nearby. Nor is there a building in this town that doesn't have at least one crooked old woman seated at her window, peering suspiciously down at the activity below.

才几个小时后，我们立即搭上火车，而后——像变魔术似的——我们到了那不勒斯。我立即爱上那不勒斯。狂放、刺耳、嘈杂、肮脏、享乐的那不勒斯。兔子窝里的蚁冢，混杂中东市集的异国情调，以及新奥尔良的巫毒魅力。古怪、危险、兴高采烈的疯人院。我的朋友伟德在20世纪70年代到过那不勒斯，遭人袭击抢劫……在博物馆里。洗好的衣物晾在每一扇窗口，悬荡在每一条街上，妆点这座城市；大家刚刚洗好的内衣内裤随风飘扬，犹如西藏的经幡。那不勒斯的每条街都看得见身穿短裤、袜子不相配的狠小子，向人行道上朝邻近屋顶的另一个狠小子高声叫喊。每一栋建筑物至少有一位佝偻老妇坐在窗边，狐疑地凝视底下进行的活动。