James and St Faustus, skeleton of, allegedly

It was so hot last night and the aircon noisy so I only got 3 hours sleep. No doubt I was concerned about the responsibility of looking after the boys (well, James) while #2 daughter and husband took themselves off in the train to Venice for the day, and #3 and family went to Siena.

We had an early start as the forecast was for the upper 30s again, and drove to Castellina again. James was interested in seeing the skeleton in the church Ella and Nathaniel had told him about. He was not impressed, and the ceramic Jesus lying down with the bloody bits didn’t really cut the mustard in gruesomeness. In fact we were being told we’d brought him under false promises so we hoped the scary tower would impress.

Before we got there he had a bad trip, resulting in skinned knee, elbow and side and lots of screaming that I should have told him not to run. Mr C and Thomas went off to find a pharmacy to but plasters while he lapped up the attention from passing Italians, letting out dramatic wails at suitable times.

Plasters and ice cream sorted it out, and they set off up the tower while I waited below to wave. After a while Mr C arrived with Thomas who had decided some of the stairs didn’t look safe. James had stayed half way up quite patiently, and enjoyed the experience.

After this they wanted to go home to the pool, where we had a pleasant afternoon. Parents had a lovely day in Venice, and #3 and co saw a parade setting out to be blessed before the paola.

We’ve run out of gin.

Ps. The other 3 defied instructions and went into the pool before finishing their dinner so James was hugely pleased to be the only one to get his ice cream. Phew. If only I felt confident the corner might be turning..