sorry darlings i´m playing catch-up...

Europe is dying of cancer and I am its bitch
espite the vigorous exercise gained by seeing Europe mostly on foot and at a cracking pace, my lung capacity is much diminished. Europeans smoke. Every man jack of them. And they take it seriously. Not only will they proudly flout ´no smoking´ signs where they do actually exist, but they will go to extreme life-shortening lengths to enjoy a puff. Yesterday, on the train from Salzburg to Vienna, three train conductors shut themselves in a glass box four feet by four feet and puffed away to their hearts content. It actually looked like the health warning ads. The one deepest in disappeared from view behind smoke. And of course when they had finished they opened the door and checked our tickets... in the non-smoking area.
Florence, Firenze, Italy generally, agreed with me greatly. Every little Tuscan town has its own little belltower and piazza and the way they dot the hills is so beautiful. I learned Italian as best as I could but the Italians weren´t as forgiving as the French. Can I just say Dad´s Italian came along beautifully. Once again, it was essentially English, but said with an amazingly embarrassing Joe Dolce-style ´shuddupaya face´ accent.
But if I can just say, it was strides ahead of yesterday´s effort... impersonating Sargeant Schultz from Hogan´s Heroes in the middle of Munich train station. The depth of my horror cannot completely be described in words.
We did a pretty good tour of northern Italy, taking in Milan, Florence, Pisa, Rome, Siena and Venice. I forgot to mention the other day, the marketing genius of the souvenir-makers in Pisa. Put everything from mugs to shot glasses... get this... on a lean. Then charge about €8 for it.
Venice was pretty, if you´re into expensive crumbling sewer-based towns. The train up through the mountains into Austria was spectacular and Salzburg is the prettiest lil place on God´s Earth. Although the people there seem to have a nasty spitting habit. Actually you get that anywhere in Europe. Spitting and smoking are EU sports. There are differences between the cultures though. Stand still long enough in Austria and the Austrians will let their dogs piss on you. Stand still long enough in Paris and the French will piss on you. Stand still long enough in London and the English will form an orderly queue behind you. No matter where you are, the Polish never stand still... just in case.
We popped to Angela Merkel´s Germany for the day. Quite austere and ugly (well we only saw Munich, I shouldn´t condemn the whole place on the basis of one town). Now I know I´m going to get busted for this so I apologise in advance to the people in my life who are
a) of German decent, or
b) have German lovers...
but Germanic features are just designed for a well-cut uniform. Seriously. The boys are beautiful.
So now I´m in Vienna. So incredibly beautiful. Those Hapsburg wallahs knew what they were doing. Visit Austria if you get the chance, it´s so pretty.
Next Prague and then home. So this´ll be my last email from abroad. But fear not... I have SO MUCH material that I´m considering an entire show of my own based on this holiday. At very least you´ll see some of it on stage at some point. I´ll keep you in the loop.
Love to all
Danski

Dario sempre in ritardo!
France was not all it was cracked up to be. It did not agree with me. Parisienne's I thought were lovely. Not the obnoxious people I had been promised. In fact I always found them ever understanding and paitent. Perhaps because I had cunningly learned just enough French to show that I had made an effort. "Pardon, mon Francais pa bien". It's not a great sentence but they love to hear it.

The Italians are less forgiving. However, I must say I love Italy. From the second we descended through the mountains (another 12 hours by train, btw) and ambled into Turino, I loved the place. Everyone had their knickers hanging out their verandah to dry. I kinda like that.

But as I say, they're not as forgiving with the language. The Americans, once again, only have themselves to blame for their failure on this front. Dad and I were standing at a train ticket window and the American in front of us wanders up the counter and in bold English exclaims. "We want to go skiing near the Mattahorn". Not only does the guy not speak English, but his sole purpose in the workplace is to sell train tickets. I'll spare you the charade that followed.

Today Dad and I went to Pisa. It's 1hr 15mins on the bus from Florence to Pisa. That's 1hr 15mins of the two Americans in front of us chewing gum at volume like two slack-jawed cattle with OCD. No one needs to hear chewing at volume in a confined space for that long. Close your freakin mouths. Duh.

So Pisa was awesome and the whole experience was enhanced by an Italian tour guide who was as camp a a row of tents at a John Inman (RIP) look-a-like convention. "Please follow this way... now Puccini had a lovely body... of work such as Turandot e Madama Butterfly..." and he would wander alone with his umbrella in the air so we could all see him, using it to add a valuable pivot to his mince. It was hilarious.

One of our group (lets call him Dario) was disabled in some way. I'm not sure if he'd had a stroke or what his situation was but he had a gimp hand and walked slowly with one stiff leg. The walk from the leaning tower to our bus was quite long and he and his wife were trailing behind and the group hadn't noticed (it was cold, we were running for the bus). So she came running after yelling "wait". Everyone turned around and (another) American said, "oh it's him. Why did she bring him out if he can't walk". I would have put the ferrule of my umbrella through the back of her knee to see how well she coped with it, but it was still lodged in the jaw of another American. Why are the Americans trying to ruin this holiday? (Btw, ritardo means late).

Florence, it has to be said, is gorgeous. Tomorrow we're tackling the famous bits... the doumo and Uffizi. The we're heading to Rome for the day on Thursday. I have to reiterate, I love Italy. I feel really at home here. Only I look kinda woggy, apparently, and they are surprised when I speak only English and then want to know what my grandparents think of me not speaking their language. Otherwise I love it here.

Love to all.
Dan xxx