500 Metres

Hey all,

played this board game for a couple of hours last night with the Swedes and one of the girls who works here – you take it in turns to roll dice and move tanks around, try to take over the world. “What happens when Germans play?” I asked. “They always lose,” said one Swede. “They can't help themselves – they invade Russia: it's all over,” said the other. I thought it was a stupid infantile game (ie, I lost) and when I had no pieces left, had a bullshit and a cigar outside with a group of people who were sitting around smoking, drinking, and talking at a moderate level until someone four floors up shouted down for them to shut up, at which point they all kicked up the volume a few notches.

Have just got back from my big 500 metre outing of the day – which included a hot chocolate which, for once, I could drink instead of eating with a spoon – I was enjoying the novelty of this until the waitress ran out, mortified – she had seen the remains of the hot chocolate she had made in the jug, realised how shockingly liquid it was, removed it, brought out another with a smile – back to the teaspoon.  Not that I'm complaining about that.

Apart from that, catching up on emails, reading – not a terrible way to spend a few days I suppose – except for the insurance forms I need to deal with – I got to the point of printing them out today. The foot is, I think, slowly getting better.

Photos. 1. The sights of Pisa that I get to see: still riveting. 2. Swedish backpackers: good at taking over the world. Still animals.

Cheers, B.