In Italia

It was the usual route – Birmingham to London to Paris to Milan, where we collapsed in a heap for a night, but only after enjoying some excellent Cucina Milanese. We ate and drank next to the canal, where the seats point inwards to face the people walking along “in passagiata”.

Yesterday, after a stroll through the city via a regional food festival entitled “Butchers for Children”, the delights of which we elected to avoid, we picked up the hire car.

We arrived at our destination for the next few nights, a beautiful guest house in Piemonte. It is immaculately finished to a scary degree and owned by a British couple who also operate a vineyard. And yes, the local Barbera is excellent. I just wish my Italian was better.