In Italiano

Mosquitoes love me. I love Bud and Bud loves ice-cream. And here we are, all in Florence and sometimes I scarce believe how lucky I am. I only miss G, as the waifs would say "i miss you like my left arm, that i lost in war"
The skin on my back is taut with sunburn and every day is sticky and hot (nudging heaven here).

I won't go into what happened with my bag not arriving with me on Wednesday, just to say to Anyone reading this, don't, whatever you do, fly with feral easyjet. The authorities at the Italian airport/baggage handlers were incredibly nice, and I am ashamed to say that I swore at one of the girls on the phone. But not even a wasted day could detract from the fact that I am in Italy with my best friend.

We've both been a bit tired and have walked until we were bent with fatigue and our feet were black. it's fantastic.
And I had my little 'communion' with Elizabeth and Robert today when we walked in the Boboli gardens.

Had a strange incident with a hairdresser yesterday. While Bud was at an internet caff I went to get my haircut on the via Guelfa and the guy spent ages washing my hair, but a very short time actually cutting/styling. We chatted and even managed a few sentences in Italian. Then he asked me if I liked beer. I said yes, and, thinking it was an easy topic considering our language limitations, I added that i also like prosecco. So he suggested that after my hair cut we go out for a drink. I sort of avoided the question but he brought it up a few more times, adn then when i paid and received two big baci, I said that I was going to meet my friend in an internet cafe and we'd see him later. Which, of course we didn't. Strange Italians.

But this language- I could listen to it endlessly. And I hear it's raining in London...