The Big One [How Green is my Valley?]

Wendsday night: our bold attempt to probe the wheels of steel and travel, 'cross Europe by train.
Lucas: Well now we are travelling on a train to ROME and Mum though it was a first class sleeper train but it is a boring tiny smelly carriage and I’m feeling claustrophobic because it’s tiny and boring. All I hope is that tonight will have gone by soon but I feel annoyed but I’ll just eat till I go to sleep, Bye!

PS: In Paris the pyramid Gallery,” the Louvre” was fun till my legs ran away & and I could hardly walk! But I saw the Mona Lisa it was cool and it was behind bullet proof glass!
Lucas: Well sleeping on the train was boring and the blanket for the duvet was itchy and the bed was tiny and you had to walk up a ladder to get up, the bed was kind of hanging from the wall! Well me and Theo, and me, bought monster munch crisps and they were nice but mum didn’t let us have many and mum was whining about how much wine there was (NOT)
Tony: It was a pleasure to see Deborah’s face when she saw that the couchette did not contain even a lavabo let alone somewhere for Oddjob to hide and spring out as we trained through the St. Godard Pass. Much muttering about planting trees and flying first class rather than endure a night with the children’s feet within three feet of our faces. There is also a danger of the train being full of people eager to minimize their carbon footprints [not much, mon cher…..most brought their own chuppa chips]. The morning rose bright and cheerful as we passed through Modena.
Rome: Keat’s Flat

Lucas: about ten minutes before I wrote this I was go-Carting and whizzing round the park and knocking Theo’s wheel and nearly I got lost! But now I’m hungry and there’s nothing in the fridge {In Keats’s house}, Bye bye!
Theo: in the exhibition about Leonardo da Vinci there was a mirror room
which I nearly couldn’t find my way out of. There was also a 12 barrel shot gun which you could spin and more barrels would come.
Hey ho: still the best kitchen in the world (all Keats needed was good chicken soup; all that swooning bollocks, oi vei), universe and anything (see view, above).
To Umbria and beyond…..T does country:
Tony: France was good enough for Terence Conran, even for Rick Stein, so who needs Umbria ? Many years of prejudice and a fear of running into Germaine Greer have needed to be eroded by a: visiting Umbria and b: having friends with a beautiful casa, indeed virtual castello between Rome and Florence on the edge of one of the hill cities. Weather not so good so time in front of fire drinking and reading books on Algeria (homework). Flesh frozen and unyielding - damn.