Tuesday, August 10, 2004


Set off on Sunday evening for the airport. Maddy and I flew to Amsterdam, then we waited in Amsterdam airport for a replacement plane to Venice (the one that we were meant to be travelling on having become whatever the air equivalent is of unseaworthy, due to an overeager baggage handler having rammed into the side of it. "It has a hole in the side," said the purser, in high Dutch dudgeon. "We shall get another plane.")

Got to Venice, met by Holly and a friend who has elected not to be named in the journal (Miss X). Holly is nineteen. Holly turned nineteen in Italy about six weeks ago. Holly has observed that while I congratulated Mike on his birthday, hers didn't actually get a mention in this journal. Holly does not plan to let me forget this.


I've never been in Venice in the summer. The last time I was there it was about September 18th 2001, and there were no tourists, or almost none. This time the press of bodies was amazing.

We've now gone to Bologna for the afternoon (and I've grabbed five minutes on the internet), and I've been talked into driving a rental car, something I would be slightly more sanguine about if only the Italians, wonderful people in many other ways, could be persuaded to accept red traffic lights as an order, rather than as a vague sort of suggestion.

Will post again when I get a chance.


And now a brief word from our sponsor:

Holly HollyMaddy Maddy Maddy Maddy Maddy Maddy Maddy Maddy Maddy Maddy Maddy (This is Maddy typing, ((Holly wanted me to type the Holly part)) could you tell?)