I had this feeling that the clouds, the sea, and the coastline might be interesting if we were to wander out to the look-out on the hill at Boccadasse this morning. And they were.
I love sitting here. It took us longer than planned to reach it, as Gert is all but crippled by back pain and so, we’re moving more slowly than usual.
Meanwhile he has been threatening to write a book full of things that I say. Sometimes he almost falls over laughing. I have to admit, I’m more than happy he doesn’t blog me.
He is also talking of enforcing a 20 euro limit, per journey, on me and the beggars who spot the ‘I give money I don't have to beggars’ halo that shines over my head.
Last night it was the artist ... he was kind of dirty but it wasn’t just the grime and etc. I was lost when he looked directly at me and I noticed his little broken glasses were hanging crookedly from his nose.
Mmmm, and the day before, the African guys. My natural curiousity gets me into trouble while wandering. And Gert’s more than certain they have a far higher income than me at the moment. Let me know if you have need of a little brown plastic turtle or elephant. I have 4 ...
But perhaps I should get these guys to give workshops and help me work on my line out there in the begging world.