Two and a bit hours to fly from Rome to the UK. Two and a bit hours to travel from Stansted to Norwich. The sooner I have a private jet, the better.
One thing I noticed about the trip this time: they’ve stopped asking “did you pack your bag yourself?”, and all the other associated really stupid security questions. “Are you a terrorist?” … “uh, well actually, yes I am. Please lock me up and throw away my civil rights^w^w^wthe key”. It’s definitely an improvement.
The realities of different climates tend not to sink in that often. I’ve visited Cyprus in late October before, but that fit into the holiday pigeon hole in my brain, and holidays are generally meant to be hot and sunny. But being on a working trip to Rome, and finding the climate pleasantly warm … well, that led to a whole new kind of disorientation. Of course, pleasantly warm is all relative – most of the Italians thought I was insane walking round in shirt sleeves in the middle of winter 
Anyway, it gives me a pleasant sense of inappropriateness to have got sunburn. In November. Wehey!
Once again, I’m reminded how much poorer we are in the UK due to our isolationist attitudes and linguistic incompetence. Seeing (or rather, hearing) my colleagues conversing in English, German and Italian is a frustrating experience. But then, I read that something like 60% of 18-30 age group believe we should get out of Europe, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I learnt/remembered more German than Italian on this trip, despite being in Rome. What’s that about?
Leaving the country and doing the coin shuffle, and once again on return to the UK, I’m impatient for us to switch to the euro. My traditional post-travel moan. Yeah, I know the economic benefits are anything but clear cut, but frankly I can’t be bothered to think in multiple currencies any more. As we rapidly approach the time when coins and notes are obsolete and electronic payment is the method de jour, it seems anachronistic to have to worry about pounds and cents.
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