In Abroad. Staying in a charming little Art Deco hotel. Could be in an Agatha Christie novel. Manage not to get murdered in the night, which is good.
Am writing this in the hotel courtyard where there are olive trees. “Look: they’ve got olives on them. Put that in the blog,” Mum says.
We are in a famous ancient town where there are many things that want to see and do. But we have to keep driving. Will tell you more when we stay here on the way back. A few clues: there’s a motor museum and much motoring history. There’s been a settlement here since 20 AD. Also there’s a magnificent cathedral which haven’t managed to photograph. Attached photo is another church we saw on the walk to dinner last night.
Argh the parentals have just come swooped down on my quiet corner in a flurry of bags and Michelin guides. Had better pack everything and prepare for a tough day of sleeping in the car. And must do a wee before we go: Dad likes to go a good couple of hours between loo stops.
Happy Sunday everyone!
*1965. By Agatha Christie. Miss Marple detective novel. One of my best ones.
Scars, Tears and Training Bras 