When the seas were too rough for us to approach Capri, our ship’s captain opted wisely to head instead to the more sheltered port of Ponza, an island further north, closer to Rome. A bustling summer vacation spot that’s packed with Romans escaping the city’s heat, Ponza was very sleepy and low-key on the off-season cloudy Sunday we set foot on shore. And that was fine with me. Fewer people to get in the way of a lazy hike past its Necco-colored houses, its narrow streets and staircases leading up to nowhere and back again. The sound of Sunday’s soccer game on a TV. A cat wandering by. A dog barking in the distance.