That Tunisian poof with the elephants had the right idea crossing into northern Italy in winter. How lovely and cool they must have been. I, on the other hand, entered Italy on a day of blazing heat and brilliant sunshine. My Doggles, the hot sunglasses brand that everyone will be wearing this time next year, were the must-have accessory du jour.
I am not one to complain, but I must say the standard of in-palanquin service was very poor on this last leg of the trip. Not once was I offered complimentary ice-cream, sherbets, or any refreshment appropriate to this oppressive heat - plentiful water was provided, but the meanest of cafes would offer the same. Time and again, well-meaning strangers approached bearing (I presume) platters of tantalising sweetmeats, but my heartless chauffeur whisked me away at top speed. Such a gruelling pace I endured.
We were at least in Rome in time for a late supper, and our entry into the city was magnificent - all were suitably cowed by the potency of my throbbing mount. That night, I dined on boar with apple and redcurrant. Much more in my line than the gruel-and-water diet of the road, which frankly would disgrace a Victorian gaol.
No comments:
Post a Comment