European winter. Its wet and grey, and in Barcelona its quite humid. Which makes photos all washed out and ones boxer shorts get rapidly sticky and try to crawl up ones ass.

It seems that Barcelona is Under renovation, all of the major sight seeing attractions are covered in netting, scaffolding or my favourite a canvas motif showing what it looks like underneath.

At least the little mermaid was great.

I got up obscenely early and caught a series of planes to Italy. I have noticed that there are two types of pilot. Those that gently ease the plane to speed for a smooth acceleration and take off, and those that punch it hard, heads slamming into seats and racing off at hell speed. I flew Alitalia, the Italian airline, guess which category they fell into.

What a hell ride, next to a rather large, and dare I use the word pungeant woman. Its one of those situations that I dread, the big, heavy perspiring ones. To my surprise I was served by one of my first macho styled male hosts. To me it seems that a lifetime of forced smiling and plane servitude seems to add a certain level of campness to the encounter, but this dude was unshaven, looked hung over, really didnt give a shit about how the life jacket worked (it was tangled and he spat it) and made the experience all worth while. Until he told me I wasnt able to use my discman in the air. Primitives, what sort of plane gets affected by a Discman, it wasnt even techno.

A brief stopover in Milan, which reaffirmed just how useless my Italian is, before heading to Perugia. A little city somewhere in Italy. Big enough for an airport. Small enough so it only gets propellor planes.

Its wet. Pissing down. I have no idea where I am. My first mission was to find an umbrella, I finally find an army surplus store, and buy me a gigantic camoflage number. Its not really a subtle item at all. Still I guess it would be useful should I become a bombing target, would be really good for stealth golf.

Its so quaint here. Really charming. Lots of hills and old buildings, though like any european tour, it soon degrades into the ABC experience "Another Bloody Church" my timing is however impeccable to coincide with the European Chocolate Show. Streets and streets filled with belly hanging over the belt sweet cocoa goodness.

And the style here is even more so then Barcelona, now I really want a man Bag.