Tomorrow, at a reasonable hour befitting two people who are trying to treat themselves nicely during a once-in-a-lifetime vacation, we will board a plane for Heathrow, then bella Napoli. There will be no one-two punch of awful sleep and terrible airport pastry that makes everyone constipated. There will be no seeing of one's breath while loading into the Uber. This honeymoon will not begin with unsightly cortisol abdomens, or the harrowing sort of disassociation where you wonder if you were just talking out loud to yourself in your seat.
Our path is Ercolano > Minori > Rome > Naples, and, emboldened by the expressive relationship which I believe Italians have with clothing, I have brought pants in pink, orange, yellow, and pinstripe. I also have a bright orange shirt, which I hope you will see in photographic updates as we wend our way from zuppa to noci each day. I have not worn this bright of a shirt before, but I am hoping I can get away with it, there among the sanguine children of Remus. (I believe Romulus was childless and given to philately, but I hope to discuss this with someone.)
See you tomorrow, Chochacho. I intend to post a daily or near-daily tour diary for you, as you have been so kind as to significantly help make this lovely trip possible. Buona notte.
Chris Onstad
2024-09-20 01:58:12 +0000 UTCC C
2024-09-20 01:23:33 +0000 UTCJulie (HiDeeHoGal)
2024-09-19 14:17:07 +0000 UTC