rome is a blur

Time moves through Rome in tracer fashion.  Its raining, its cold.  The sun comes out and the world is ablaze.  A chance run in with an American teen pop group in TAD.  Hearing Pink Floyd blare above pieces of the Berlin Wall on the Spanish steps as night sets in.

If at the point of trattoria overload head over to the perfect bun.  Burgers that are hard to resist but also perhaps the only place in Rome to find a burrito.  True to form, amazingly fresh ingredients and good company A meeting spot for Rome's film industry.

  A TNT package arrives.  The lads have sent a prototype of our driving pants.  I quickly change and hop in the car for the long drive up the A1 towards Milan.  Flashing through tunnels I make my way through Perugia and onwards.  Its sunny for once and I spy hill top towns and crags in the dolomites.  No time to slow except for the "Speed Teacher" radar system.  Five hours later and I'm in Parma.  Pants still comfortable and look as out of the box fresh as promised.  Now it's Milan.  Change shirts (Auto Grill espresso mishap),  keep pants & don moleskin coat.  Just in time for dinner meeting.

E.M.M.

24 Hours to burn in Milan

Flying into Malpensa, I find myself with 24 hrs between commitments.

What to do?  Grab the rental car and head west as fast as possible, through Courmayeur, the tunnel, and into Cham proper?  I look down at my Crockett & Jones cap toes- not exactly front pointing material.
  My Imperial Black moleskin jacket seems an ill companion for the winds funneling down the Mont Blanc massif. I think of the rust specked and dulled ice tools in the garage at home and my pathetic lack of shape.

I don't think that making a go of the Twight/Backe testpiece "There Goes the neighborhood" (ED+, 5.9,A3, 90 degrees) on the north west face of Aguille Sans Nom is in the cards this trip (or ever).  Hell seems to search me out these days rather than my trying to find it amidst spindrift and rime.

Plan B with the clock ticking then.

E.M.M.