We’re battling the Saturday morning city centre crowds through narrow streets, and my wife wants to know why we’re heading uphill if we’re looking for an underground station.
‘Because it’s called Monte Santo,’ I reply. ‘I think that means “sacred mountain”.’
I check my map of the Metro and add half-heartedly, ‘Maybe the first part of the journey is overground.’
We pass a square festooned with bunting and football scarves. A mural of Diego Maradona looks down from
