Else

Right now, in a pink hostel, run by Fabio and his flamboyant boyfriend, who loves to do hair. My hair is finally finally straight! But I will bathe soon in the bath with jets.

Can I even begin to summarize the last weeks?

We found a secret jazz club in Roma, brimming with hip youngsters and oldsters and cheap wine and excellent music.

We stole oranges and lemons on the island of Capri.

We at marvelous rolls of rice and cheese, and then fish, and gelato and had picnics of mozzarella and tomato and bread, an we dined on the Spanish steps while the onlookers whisked jealously by.

We were waylaid by the friendly hostel owner and took the next train - so what else to do but go on the roof terrace and crawl through construction onto neighborly rooftops in the sketchy Neapolitan neighborhood in search of momentary sunlight.

What else to do but use newly umbrellas to mimic
Singing in The Rain dances.

What else but to flutter from car to car to avoid the sketchy characters on our night train.

What else but recieve free roses from an Indian rose handler.

What else but stay up all night to watch the sun rise over the colosseum only to discover that my camera is dead when I get there, so I inhale the cigarette smoke and face into the orangey mist, observing the sellers scuttle for space and eating a fresh Clementine.

What else but to find a book store and purchase Sex Lounge for 1 euro, much to the disapproval of the gray haired lady stroking her little dog.

What else but to spend the day trying to ignore Shy Boy while sleeping the nauseousness off in the hotel lounge.