One of the joys of living in Italy is the amount of culture you soak up. This morning for example, I was rudely awoken at 9am by a whole boatload of the stuff going past my bedroom window. Even living a good twenty minutes from the centre of town is no protection from the contradas eager to drum up enthusiasm or lurid oaths at the very least in preparation for the Palio. The Palio being two months away. Someone should tell the bastards they really started early this year. Not even the sight of grown men in medieval tights could do anything to raise a smile on my incredibly bleary face - been there, done that, got all the pictures last week. Fair enough if they were being quietly medieval, but I meant "drum up" in the most darkly unfunny punning way possible. Tambours and big fat sticks and unified rhythm are not what I want on a Sunday morning and next week they'd do well to remember that. oh! Ha! Next week I won't be there, nor the weekend after! God bless the god of travel.