Last night together, the three of us hardy travellers. I'm starting to wear thin of their extreme sensibility and dad's not-so-subtle thoughts on what I should be doing with my life he so kindly offered to add at each available chance. But hey, he's a parent after all and I wouldn't be doing my duty as a child if I wasn't disappointing him just a little.
So we arrived in Bologna, a city in Italy I'd not been before but was keen to check out, particularly since it was – as the name suggests – the birthplace of spaghetti bolognese. After dinner, however, it was most definitely the sights of the streets that impressed me more than the sauced pasta dish. It was possibly the shittest meal I've had since being with dad, and I've eaten a lot so I have much to base as comparison. The sights of the streets though, ooh la la... Turns out Bologna is a university town, much to my enjoyment, so along the rows of fashion shops there were real-life models of people looking cool right there on the pavement. I was chomping at the bit to get me some of these lookers, but I kept stopping and reminding myself that they were Italians and my past experiences with such men (never mind the women – can you IMAGINE??!) are not even worth remembering their names for. Urgh, I just remembered another one...
We went back to the hotel and had another early night, and I readied myself to head to my new host family in Orte the next day.
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