No, I didn't see Donald Sutherland

So, I returned home for a few days and then back to Italy. I loved feeling like a regular and seasoned traveller, and I dropped the fact, oh so nonchalantly, into as many conversations as possible.....but...... travel is all well and good if :-

a) it happens when expected

b) all your belongings arrive with you

c)your credit card isn't maxed out

d)you don't fly cheap with KLM

(this is a tale so dismal it does not need to be told, I am sure many of you have experienced some or all of the above)

on the upside it was Italy - did I mention that ?

Venice was ethereal, as ever, and even more flooded than usual, but tippy toes sufficed and wellies were not bought, Bellini, the artist and the drink, were given due reverence and the joy of wandering with no purpose revisited.

The true thrill of the weekend though was listening to a friend sing a Byrd Mass in St Marks on All Saints - not bad for an Anglican church choir - the "spinal shiver" was phenomenal, enhanced, perhaps, by the fact Comme des Garcons could have OD'd on in situ incense


Sad reality kicked in all too quickly on my return, the list of people in line for molten lead enemas is growing apace.......... was there ever a greater misnomer than "service industries" ?, and Lord knows, I am in a position to make that judgement, meeting the Great British Public at the sharp end on a daily basis....................