…the type of heavy rain we never get in Frankfurt…the kind of rain where it goes for hours and hours without letting up, or changing pattern. The kind of rain that causes the drainage system to get overwhelmed, so much so that water comes up out of the drains and manhole covers in the middle of the streets.
I saw the brown muddy water flowing into the blue/green med and it was beautiful.

The huge puddles in the streets actually makes the Italian drivers a bit more cautious.

I am craving something besides Italian food and I just realized I have not seen any sort of ethnic (non-Italian) restuarant in this city…hmmm. No chinese, no turkish, no indian, no american food (except mcdonalds)…now that I”m thinking about it I’m really hungry…

but it turned out to be a good summary of something….

but since the connection is so slow here, I’m just uploading a couple small files…

Unfortunately I have nothing to say. I’m in Riomaggiore…while searching online to figure out how to spell Riomaggiore I found this article…

(In Germany) When you are in a meeting with Germans at some point they will get frustrated or bored and start speaking about the problem in German, discuss and/or solve the topic, then (maybe) explain to you what just happened. That doesn’t really bother me at all…it is their country. I always figure if it’s important then someone will tell me about it.

Italians just keep talking english….which is kind of nice of them.

Picked up for dinner at 20:10. Drove for half an hour to eat at a fish place. Had a 29 course meal (start with raw stuff then move to cooked stuff). Eat some type of mussel that “is illegal, but if you go to the right place you can get it”. Walk along the beach, drive half an hour home and go to sleep.

There has been no hot water for 3 days…Hmmmm. Gonna have to mention that I guess.

Tomorrow am going to Cinque Terra. Staying one night in Riomaggiore if I can manage to get there 😉

Hopefully will have a ton of pics on Monday.

There is a colleague here I’m working with that smells like my grandpa (or maybe my grandpas house). That’s weird…everytime we’re chatting I am thinking of my gramps.