The thing about traveling with someone who wanted to march me all over the city (and kept coming up with numbers of how many miles we actually walked in a day, etc) was that often there was nothing I wanted to do more at the end of the day than sleep. I did really miss my fabulous pillow-top bed at home a lot, but I found the beds we stayed in pretty relaxing after a hard day of death-marching.
 |
| Beds in Florence |
 |
| The bed in Venice - two twins we pushed apart for actual sleep. |
And there was a moment, when I got home, and fell into my own bed, and I was just happy to be home, sleeping in my own bed. No matter how far you rome, there is no place like home!
1 comment:
ROFL...you make it sound like you were forced to march at gunpoint. And the guesstimates about the number of miles covered was to justify my gluttony.
Post a Comment