So I know one bloke in Rome, and I run into him.
Naomi has journeyed on to the Greek islands leaving morgue to head back west. Highlight was the ferry from Patras (Greece) to Bari (Italy), where I met a Brit named Haith and a German named Martin and we shared a bottle of Ouzo on the deck as the night wore on. There was an enormous wedding celebration, I’m guessing it was a second marriage because both parties were older, but what it meant was – first, a mass on the boat, led by a priest who looked like he was the Pope’s bodyguard – and secondly, lots and lots of singing and clapping and more singing late into the night. The groom gave us wine, as is apparently traditional. Excellent stuff.
Every time you are on a train in Italy someone will have an argument.
Anyway, Haith misses his connection from Rome and goes wandering. Sure enough, he finds me. We look at pretty things (love the Trevi Fountain) and
are off to see more today.
Then further westward. Hopefully today I’ll work out how to get to Portugal…