Hello again. I return to share what are, upon review, my less than stellar tiny-car-centric pictures from that crucible of ferrous oxide and truly advanced electrical practices, Italy.


I brought with me the HW Alfa GTA. Having had an Alfa GTV6 (I had two, but the second was a parts car to the first), this felt tight. Also, it’s pretty. My wife and I stayed in a timeshare on Carpe Diem golf course in Ponte Mammolo; it was...nice, but it had no windows. However...

I suck at this.

That was the view out our front doors. Yes, doors. Because we had a multitude of doors, but, again, no windows into our pseudo-cave.

If something was less than good, it was the 21 euro slices of pizza we got outside the Vatican. You’d think.

The wedding was nice. They imported a real Irish priest and got legit married in St. Paul’s Basilica. I guess I should use words other than “nice” and “stuff,” but I’m frankly surprised I didn’t melt upon contact with the air surrounding Papal doings. The best part was seeing the Pope tombs. Mikey and Natalie got their nuptials blessed by Francis himself.

Hehe. I could not resist. The necropolis at Ostia is rife with junk. And may be the only place for miles that doesn’t reek of diesel, perfume, and cigarettes.

Like a big HW track. Except filled with drunk people sitting around; the Spanish stairs.

Villa d’Este. Nice to visit, and I would like to live there.

I forget.

Grazie. Ciao. Prego.