I got through the day’s programme all right, but it has fairly flattened me.

Lisa, I found there wasn’t much call for Italian in Palermo. Hotel staff were adequate-to-fluent in English, little is required in a restaurant beyond menu-reading, and the Italians we met – Professor Anselmi who took us on the Gattopardo walking tour, and the noble Lanza Tomasi’s – spoke such good English that it would have been silly to try Italian. After my fall that first evening we took taxis everywhere -- on instructions from London -- or else walked, eliminating the need to master public transport. 

I did at least deliver my pre-prepared introductory line to “Tancred” – “E’ un honore per me di incontrarLa – Tancredi”.

The only genuine conversations I can remember, both brief, were asking the waitress in the restaurant Da Peppo la Gondola whether she remembered or knew about Jamie Oliver. She didn’t. And the time my credit card failed in a humble locanda (distressing because it’s my PayPal and Amazon One-Click card) and the next day I tried it again in a slightly less humble restaurant, explaining that it had failed the day before and she wasn’t to worry because I had cash and another card, but let’s try this one first.

It went through fine, and has behaved well since.

Whereas my lessons here in Edinburgh, an hour and a half per week, are conducted entirely in Italian. It’s hard work, mentally.

Archie seems well. I asked him about writing a blog entry and he said he would have to be in the mood. I'll press, from time to time.

I’ve reached row 65 of the shawl borders, and hope to knock off a couple more before going back to bed.

And tomorrow I will get my first recipe boxes!