Day Seven: Pad like Lucas
Today was the rest day prior to the flight home, so we havenít done much. Thatís a warning to you that this is going to be padded out. Hang in there if you can.
In the morning we went shopping in Sorrento, Emma bought a plush dog (that any furry would adore Iím sure) and I was lucky enough to stumble across and Asimov I wanted to read. Iíd brought the first two Asimov Elijah Baley stories with me and read them; I didnít bring the third as I didnít think Iíd get through the first two and we needed the bag weight down.
Not only did I read those I bought a Douglas Adams ñ the second Dirk Gently novel, not as good as the first ñ and finished that. So now Iím whipping through the fourth book in a week, Asimovís ëRobots of Dawní. If the Internet and work tiredness is removed from me I read and write more often. A touch scary; goes to show I need to change priorities somewhere along the lines.
Weíve walked miles every day but eaten loads too, the food is so good (but really expensive). I certainly wonít have lost weight despite all of the walking. After the shopping we got back to the hotel just before the weather broke, it poured down. First time weíve had bad weather, itíd only been a bit overcast before.
In the afternoon we sat around, ate, drank beer and told stories; I remembered one about Italians and my Granddad. In World War II my Granddad, Jack Griffiths, was a soldier – Iím not sure of the regiment, Iíll check on that. When I was a wee nipper heíd tell me and my sister what he did in the war. Once, while fighting the Germans and Italians in France, he ended up getting separated in enemy territory.
Not really knowing what else to do Jack decided to try and retrace his steps and get the hell out of there. He turned back and started to run down the road heíd come from, but this was France and he had no idea where he was, rounding the side of a house that had seemed vaguely familiar he yelped and slid to a stop, stood in front of him was a large group of Italian soldiers, the enemy he was trying to avoid.
Luckily they were as shocked as he was, this whole area was held by the Italians as they thought the British hadnít come so far in yet; so they all stood there, just looking at each other. After a minute this seemed a daft situation rather than a terrifying one. Then the Italians started to mutter, a few seconds later they started dropping their guns, the whole lot surrendered. The only thing Jack wanted to do was get back to his regiment and have a cigarette, so he pointed and gestured, the whole group started to walk back, then jog then run.
Must have been a amusing site, one reluctant British soldier and a load of Italians coming back to camp at a flat out run. He was so lucky a few times in the war, good job too or I wouldnít be around. Well I did warn you that Iíd pad this one out; Luckily for all of us I arrive back in the UK tomorrow night. Though the Italian Adventure wonít hit the Internet until late Saturday at the earliest.
