It wasn’t built in a day and all roads lead there.

Ah! Back in good old V/franche. Shows how addictive this thing has become – it was a fabulous trip but I was getting blog-withdrawal. But there were some proof edits waiting with a deadline of the previous day, so I had to work. We know that editors move deadlines forward to give themselves ample cushions but we all have to play the game and pretend that this really is THE ultimate deadline. (If you’re one of my editors I’m just kidding.)
I started missing the blog on April 24 as the train passed the marble quarries of Carrara. Was trying to read but the book was disappointing so decided to enjoy the sun and scenery of Chianti-shire. When we boarded the train in Genoa someone was sitting in our seats – not an unusual phenomenon as we discovered. We kicked them out and they went and sat somewhere else. Then when the rightful ticket-holders for those seats boarded, they were kicked out again and moved to other vacant seats. And so it went all the way to Rome for over seven hours, like some endless mobile game of musical chairs but without the music.
I’m not doing travelogues here – Rome has been done by experts – and anyway its main problem is the embarrassment of choice. Not a question of what to do but what are you going to leave for another time. If in doubt just get out and walk: there’ll be a surprise of some kind around the corner. Herself wants to go back and look at the ceiling - no, THAT ceiling; I've promised myself the Borghese Palace. But it’s nine o’clock and we’ve been on the train since leaving Genoa at two, so the cultural priority is a veal marsala and – as the last words of Silence of the Lambs go – ‘a fine Chianti’...