The Quest for the Beach
The lizard was back. Not a peep from it all day but after a couple of late night episodes of Futurama on the Macintosh ñ from series three, fact fans - the lights went out followed by a soft lizard cry from across the room. If I could find the damn thing Iíd buy him a torch, even a night light, but no, he hides too damn well. So we ignored him and he eventually got bored and shut up.
Today we went on the journey from hell. It was tortuous, across Italian roads, cliffs, campsites and deranged locals. The weather was hot and pints of sweat were spent in toil. Where was this marathon journey to, that even Bilbo couldnít have managed? The Beach.
ëThe beach is 600 metres from the hotelí proclaims the holiday brochure, under the picture of some grinning loon on a lilo. Even as the crow flies 600 metres is stretching the truth to the approximate length of a piece of string.
I admit itís not far but this is Sorrento, itís as far down as along, and the road that allows access to the beach curves around endlessly so you end up walking for miles. This would be fine if the journey was worthwhile but our Mt. Doom turned out to be a tiny stretch of black sand that the locals parked there fishing boats on. Sigh.
The rest of the day was spent sunning ourselves by the pool and eating pizza. The pools split over five levels and the view from the top level is great. See a snap here. [Linky when I can get to it] The pizza isnít split over five levels and I have no snap of it, sorry.
Iím writing this as nearly midnight by the glow of the PowerBook screen and, touch Aluminium, so far thereís no sign of the lizard. Either heís left or got to grips with his darkness phobia. Now heís gone I miss those lizard induced night fear sweats.
Tomorrow is Vesuvius and Herculaneum, honest. Itís a damn good job I didnít get the job of carrying the ring Ö
