Another glorius sunny day here at Bellaugello Gay Guest House in Umbria, Italy.  The temperatures are in the mid to high 30s and a soft cooling breeze ruffles the curtains at the windows and rustles the leaves on the trees in the garden.

A gentle but continious sound of a motor horn announced the arrival of the post this morning here at Bellaugello Gay Guest House near Gubbio.

Why oh why when there is a registered letter does the just too pretty postgirl sit in her car and peep the horn, and not get out and deliver the letter to the door?  She can probably see activity, but prefers to sti in the car and have me stroll up to the gate.

However it is better than one of the parcel delivery services who always telephone to inform me that they have a parcel for me and have no idea where Valdichiascio (our valley) is, and so they want to leave the parcel at the local petrol station.  The parcel has travelled the world, possibly a purchase from Amazon or a supplier, and door to door delivery paid for, yet the parcel carrier decides whose door to leave the parcel at.  I tell him i do not have a car – how is he to know he never comes to the house, I aks him how I am supposed to collect the 25kg parcel from the petrol station 5km away and he just gerbles some dialectical Italian in reply…….

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