Apologies for the lack of updates: I've been getting my head around a brand new computer and a brand new operating system. Normal disservice will resume soon. In the meantime, here's a quick video I put together of a whistle-stop tour Jen and I made of Capri in 2010:

...Kind of wish I'd never made that Alburquerque joke

Thanks to the ever-reliable French air-traffic controllers, our flight home to Manchester has been CANCELLED. The ever-helpful SleasyJet offered us an alternative flight in just over 48 hours time—to London, not Manchester—but pointedly refused to guarantee that it would actually fly.

So Jen and I are currently sipping free drinks in the business class lounge at Venice Marco Polo Airport, awaiting our hastily booked Lufthansa flights home—via Munich.

Jason Bourne never has to put up with this crap.

We are living in the future.

The Italian elbow game

This is a game I usually play in Italian restaurants, to check if the staff are authentic Italians. It's dead easy to play: all you need to do is to challenge them to say the word elbow in Italian.

The following conversations happened on Saturday evening:

Me [pointing dramatically at my elbow]: What's the Italian for elbow?
Head waitress: Gomito.
Me: That's right!
Head waitress: I know.

(A short while later.)

Me [pointing dramatically at my elbow]: What's the Italian for elbow?
Other waitress: I don't know, I'm Polish.
Me: I meant, what's the Polish for elbow?
Polish waitress: Łokieć.
Me: That's right!

Just doing my bit for international relations after all that nasty Farage nonsense.

Hit the North!

Look, it was a perfectly simple mistake to make…

At this time of year, Jen and I always go away to Italy. We have previously visited Sardinia, Sicily, Sorrento, Rome (twice), and Florence (twice). This year, I said I would arrange the holiday, and asked Jen where she would like to go:

Jen swears blind she said North Umbria.