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Early in the tour we met a nice British chap, Mike, retired for five years and living in Devon, England. He sat with us at our lunch table and we all had a pleasant chat.

Mike owns a five year old greyhound called Penny.


Also delightful was our tour guide who led us through Pompeii.

She was fluent in many languages, and told good, or rather I should say compelling stories.


On this trip we got to see the outdoor amphitheatre theatre. it was here that our tour guide asked for a volunteer to sing something that would show off the acoustics.


Valiantly, one of our fellow tourists sang ‘O solo Mio’ to the delight of our travelling audience.


Later, while waiting to board the bus we learned that he is here with his wife from Orlando Florida.

He works as a nurse in geriatrics.

His wife is a lovely willowy woman with long honey coloured wearing a stunning coat of red brocade.


She would have fit in very well in ancient Pompeii I think.

My hair on the other hand, looked like it had been through several car washes.

Writing In My Journal

On the drive back to Rome, everyone was understandably weary, wet, and worn.

As we boarded the bus, we finally got that blue patch of sky that we had waited all day for…


It is part of the bus tour’s responsibility to get you back to your hotel.

However, the three of us were told that the bus is not allowed to go to that part of Rome at that late hour.


We were dropped off at a street corner and told to go straight ahead three blocks.

However, after four blocks we were hopelessly lost, and not very happy about it.

It was dark out now, and we were strangers in a strange land.

Eventually we waved down a cab.

Imagine our surprise when we entered the cab and our ears were met with Celtic music.

The driver was Italian, and I has a sensation of shell shock as the cabbie wound us back through the streets of Rome while listening to Danny Boy.

It was surreal to say the least.

No one said a word until we arrived back at our hotel.

We were just too confused.