Mum came to visit me in Puglia. I haven’t seen her in three months. Obviously it stormed (in August, outrageous), so we spent an entire day in a bar on the port front, getting cosily hammered on something which tasted suspiciously like Prossecco but which only cost €3 for a carafe.
Air BnB has served me well in Bologna. I was anticipating a shabby, cheap single room type hovel on the outskirts of town, but I’ve spent two days living with an archetypal good looking, dark and hairy Italian man in Bologna.
Como is a funny old place. Google will tell you its the most glamorous and VIP of all the lakes. Don’t get me wrong, it’s absolutely beautiful; dramatic mountain backdrops, wide swathes of open water, picturesque villas. But I get the feeling that, if your pockets aren’t heavily lined with sterling, visiting Lake Como is not a dissimilar experience to visiting the 1970s.
After an impeccably planned few days in Liguria, I decided to treat my chronic FOMO, which sees me frantically googling ‘must not miss (insert destination)' and ‘insider guides to (insert destination)’ before I visit all new places, by doing absolutely no research and ‘going with the flow’.
I’m feeling like an total boss. An absolute champion.
Today, I mastered the market. It may have taken me over six weeks, but FINALLY it happened. It was such a smooth and seamless experience, I’d rank it up there with the time I graduated and the time I managed to convince my sister that soap was white chocolate.