Holidays are like that, aren’t they? There has suddenly descended a feeling that, despite the frenetic atmosphere evident in the communications media, here in Italy as back at home, nothing is happening. The most momentous decision to be made is the time of the ferry we will catch tomorrow. I seem to have the ability to drop out without a great deal of dicciculty. I was only against some inertia on my part that my wife persuaded me to sort out a problem relating to my email account.
Incidentally, these Italian hotel beds are huge. It is almost the case that I need to communicate with my wife by text or email. As I sit here on the bed, she is watching the news on the TV. It all seems like noises off in some stage play.
Let’s hope that when tomorrow comes I have nit also managed to mislay my interest in visual experience.