Two trains, two flights, one van, and nine time zones later, I am back in the People's Republic of Berkeley. And feeling somewhat loopy. I am not sure if the pub is necessarily the best forum for recovery from jetlag, but three attritional pints later, I am still conscious, if not particularly sentinent.
There is more to be said of Italy, when I can get enough of it together to cut and paste the words into the right boxes. (Currently, judging by the amount of time it's taken me to write this, 'it' is still somewhat dissipated.)
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