I'd like to say that I fell in love with Naples the first time I visited it but, in reality, the opposite is true. I was seven years old, brought to the city by my Italian mother who had called it home for a decade, and whose love for the place, its people and its rich culture was palpable.

But despite her best efforts, perfectly curated itinerary and countless stops for pizza, it was my idea of hell. Chaotic, gritty, overrun with mopeds and loud people, it was an assault on my senses – and an experience I found so intense that I avoided the city for the next 20 years.