Excusez-moi, I mean, excuse me

From England to Italy to France and back to England again --- after three weeks, I'm not sure which language I'm supposed to use when I need to say something to a stranger. Passing people on the street or addressing a sales assistant in a store, I almost said excusez-moi several times today. I did not have the instinct to say buongiorno to anyone, but buono sera almost slipped out once.

It would be nice to recount my trip, but I feel I need to process it first --- literally, in terms of the 1,267 images I've just downloaded, and metaphorically, in terms of thinking things through. The words get stuck in my throat, I wrote tentatively in a draft blog post a few days ago; true enough, that post hasn't been finished.

More later.

Ciao!

Good thing I planned for Orvieto and Siena, because after the madness that was Rome, the last thing we would've wanted was more crazed, crowded, touristed spots. Like, you know, Venice, where we're headed tomorrow.

My mother continues to have more energy than me. I needed a chill-out break in front of Siena's Duomo, a coffee break and a tipple before dinner. She was always ready to walk on. I'm gonna have to keep on keeping up.

My mother is indefatigable

I am, however, not.

We're off on vacation for a few weeks, during which I'll have only intermittent internet access. First stop: Rome. It's entirely possible I will take more naps than she will.