Reading is getting too hard with the old eyes these days so I have taken to watching DVDs and films instead. Managed to pick up a bug of some sort which necessitated a few days indoors so this is what I've been watching:

The March of the Penguins. Not really sure why everyone raved about it so much. It was informative, short and sad in bits. But not enough comedy for my liking. A few more penguins slipping on the ice would have helped.

Regeneration. Loved the Pat Barker books when they came out but this somehow didn't quite live up to them. However, in this month of Remembrance, it was good to be reminded of the horrors of war.

The Royle Family : Queen of Sheba. On TV last night and really very good indeed. It had it all - laughs (the sofa bits, the emptying of the catheter bag, the laminating, and nana's famous last words), and pathos (the naming of the baby, nana in the lounge and her demise). Great writing.

A day to do what we wanted so we shopped in Sorrento. Lots of tat to be found but not much in the religious line. In fact, we didn't really find many churches in Italy's south - well, not compared to Tuscany and Umbria. We did pop in to the Duomo though and found some unusual marquetry Stations of the Cross.

Managed to find the church next to our hotel open and what a delight. It was modern but incorporated some older stuff from the old church. Wonderful Stations of the Cross along the balcony, modern stained glass a la Coventry cathedral, and a fabulous mosaic Last Supper. In fact, it was the holiest church we saw all week.

Off to a local fish restaurant and the tat exchange. We all buy a piece of very cheap tat - less than 5 euros - to give to another person. I got a rather attractive glass boot filled with Limoncello. Then back to the hotel for a ceilidh and the singing of the holiday song. Each group has a day to write verses for. Much hilarity ensued - you had to be there.

Then back to try and get all the goodies in our suitcases for an early start. Not easy. In fact, my case may never be the same again.

Arrivaderci Sorrento! It was good to see you, but it's Tuscany for me next time.

View from my hotel window across the Bay of Naples (Vesuvius on the right)

Hydrofoil to the island of Ischia today and we sang nautical songs on the way. Our fearless leader looked rather green around the gills but I think our singing helped.

Long walk in scorching heat and then I had a wee paddle in the sea to try and get my swollen ankles down. The water turned out to be rather warm so it didn't really help - but gorgeous all the same. Then some went off to the spas and I went shopping with friends. Three glorious leather handbags were purchased.

Theatro Tasso in the evening for a night of Neapolitan songs and dance. Not really my thing - much prefer singing along. We ate our dinner in the theatre and then the show began.

I realise at this point that I have not mentioned the lemons or tomatoes. Lemons as big as grapefruits, all gnarled but sooooo juicy. And tomatoes the like of which I have never tasted before. Why can't we import them instead of perfect plastic looking lemons and tomatoes that taste of nothing?

Amalfi coast.
Majollica dome.

Did the Amalfi coast this morning - scary if you were ar the right hand side of the coach, which I was. Big drops down the cliffs and hoorah to Guiseppe for getting us there safely. Guiseppe was our driver - very calm, cute with gorgeous forearms. Nuff said.

Visited the church of San Andrea in Amalfi but couldn't get near his bones because of scaffolding. I dont think our guide believed us when we told her that St Andrew was our patron saint and that we had some bones too - allegedly.

Night out in the Restaurant Caruso which is the poshest in Sorrento. Too many courses for me but all delicious. Back for more Amarettos in the American Bar.

Herculaneum this morning - smaller than Pompeii but impressive nonetheless. You look down into it when you arrive and can see where the lines of mud covered it. Makes you wonder how many more towns there are uncovered.

Then into Naples to the Teatro San Carlo (theatre to you and I) which was very sumptuous. No Grand Circle or Upper Circle in this theatre - just boxes upon boxes on all three sides.

Lunch (pizza again for me and delicious it was too) then off to the Flegrean Fields. This is an active volcanic region known by the Romans as the Gateway to Hell. That could be because of the smell (awful sulphur) or the puffs of steam coming out of the ground or bubbling hot earth. It was very weird and very hot - the ground could melt your shoes. But why would you want to buy a house next door? If you jump up and down you can feel the earth move.

Back to Sorrento and I joined a few friends for a meal at a restaurant on the water. My prawns smelled dodgy so I gave them a miss, but at the end of the meal the waiter brought over two litre carafes of Limoncello with compliments of the manager. One was creamy Limoncello and absolutely delicious so we set to polishing them off. Slammers, sippers - we scoffed the lot. The the waiter appeared back and fell to the floor laughing and with tears in his eyes. Turns out that was their week's supply of Limoncello - we were only meant to take one glass each, not polish the whole lot off. They'll not do that with the Scots again!

Flegrean Fields

Early start to Pompeii. Much bigger than I expected. Very cobbly and very hot. Can't imagine what its like in the height of summer. Visited the prostitute's house and howled like wolves, which apparantly is what they did when they were ready to receive a new client. Above each room was a fresco depicting the position on offer so you could choose what your preference was. Disappointed to see only 2 bodies in glass cases - the rest are in the museum in Naples. Interesting fact: the width of the chariot ruts in the road is the same width as our current rail gauge.

Next stop was the Villa Oplontis and more frescos. Also a large swimming pool in which Nero's wife supposedly bathed in asses milk. That must have taken a heap of asses.

Then on to Vesuvius where I declined to climb to the top but sat in a cafe drinking. Vile toilets. Lots of tat to buy made from lava.

Back to Sorrento for dinner and a sing song. The waiter and manager came out to join in Volare and others. Then back to the American Bar next to the hotel for a nightcap - Amaretto, in case you were wondering. (The first of many.)

At the physio this morning with my bad back. Turns out that I have slight curvature of my spine at the bottom, like many people, and my posture is bad. All those years of standing up straight have not done me any good at all. Standing up straight involves me sticking out my tummy and pulling in my back and it should be the other way round. So maybe I won't look so fat either!

Got my exercises to do which involve pushing the bottom of my spine into the wall or bed or floor and sucking in my pelvic floor muscles. It's been a while since they were used, I can tell you.

The holiday started well when our flight from Edinburgh was delayed because of fog. This meant that we had to sprint a mile across Gatwick, running past glittery shops at high speed, queueing in long sweaty lines for security checks, only to be told to wait for an hour in the final departure lounge. The perfume that I had bought in Edinburgh was scrutinised and the receipt demanded before I was allowed to take it on board.

Arrived eventually in Naples airport at about 11pm where everybody had gone home except for 2 rather miserable looking women at a desk marked Customer Services. Our luggage appeared on the belt and I waited for my rather gorgeous purple suitcase along with the rest. The cases came and the people went... and I was left waiting. Yes, dear reader, you guessed it - my case was not there.

We approaced the grumpy Customer Services woman who told us to go to Lost Luggage which we did. It was closed for the night. We went back and waited until grumpy finished her mobile phone converstation. 30 minutes later, we explained that my case was lost and she informed us that she could not help because she was "Customer Services". We laughed. And cried.

Eventually we wrote down my name and the fact that my case was purple and the name of the hotel and left. She barely glanced at the piece of paper.

It was a warm and balmy night in Naples and my light jumper was soon rather damp. After a 2 hour journey we arrived at Capo di Sorrento (that means 'just outside' I think) and the Hotel Villa Igea. Straight to bed after a wee gift of a toothbrush (new) from our fearless leader.

Can anyone explain to me why single people have to pay an exorbitant supplement and then get the grottiest tiniest rooms with a single bed which would suit a very small child or an extremely thin adult, neither of which I am?

What was my biggest 'Aahhh' moment of the holiday?

Having a ciggy AND a decaff Starbucks coffee AT THE SAME TIME in Gatwick airport yesterday.

I know that seems terribly sad, but for me it was a delight after a week where decaff coffee does not exist (and I can't do caffeine) and a week where smoking is banned in public places as in Scotland.

So good old England, I say. And I never thought I would.

More sensible reports of a wonderful week to follow - when I find the camera.

Taking a break from blogging for a week. Ciao!

I am having difficulty reading just now but I did manage a novella called Oscar and the Lady in Pink by Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt. Can't remember where I heard about it but someone recommended it and I found a cheap copy on Abebooks.

And what a joy it was. A delightful little story about a 10 year old boy who is dying of cancer and the volunteer he meets in hospital. Told through the eyes of the child it deals with love, death and God in simple but meaningful terms. It was just beautiful.

Isn't it funny how you get something in your head and then over the next few days it crops up again and again all over the place? I think it's called synchronicity.

Anyway, after my thoughts on communication the other day I came across this statement made by a friend...

"The CommunicatOR is always always always responsible for how a message is received.
In other words, we must think before we send (or speak.)
If we don't, then any misunderstanding that ensues is ALWAYS our fault.
That's why we should never utter the words, "You misunderstood me."
Instead, we must say, "I haven't explained it clearly.""

Take note.

Had a lovely Italian meal with the gang who are about to accompany me to Sorrento on Monday. We got our last minute instructions and assured our leader that we will not buy any more knickers for his wife. (It's a long story!) I managed to avoid collecting the delightful blue and orange rucksacks which were on offer. I mean to say, when on earth am I ever likely to wear anything which would go with blue and orange?

Sorted out my travel insurance but the documents may not arrive until after I have left. Went to the Post Office to get this EHIC card which entitles me to health care in Europe but I'd left it too late too so I have to take a phone number and proof of my NI number. Proof? Do you think knowing it off by heart counts as proof? Gone are the days when I used to be so organised that the case was packed a week before. I am just now thinking about what things ought to be washed and its only 21/2 days to go.

Still not sure exactly what we are allowed to take as hand luggage. Lip gloss I can live without, but my cigarette lighter is right up there with essentials and I see it is banned. Looks like I'll have to get a box of matches. But I can't wait to meet up with the gang and head off for some R&R.

It occurred to me yesterday that poor communication causes more upset than anything else. Sometimes we think that everyone knows about something, and when we find out that they don't it is too late to redeem the situation. Well, without apologising profusely and holding your hands up in all honesty and saying sorry.

This situation has arisen a number of times for me in the past month. And all of them happened within our Church. Ironic really when you think how much time we spend in communicating the gospel message, and forgetting to tell folk that something important has happened.

In my past life I was a Communications Officer for The Rock Trust working with young homeless people. My job was to let people know about the issues surrounding homelessness; to inform our supporters of successes and failures and where we needed their help; to inform staff of new policies and other things which would make their job easier. I did it by newsletters, reports, letters and by going around talking to groups. (This was pre-website.)

In the Church we have a website and a monthly magazine but I fear that most of our little flocks rely on our clergy or Lay Reps to inform them of news. In our diocese we are fortunate that our Bishop sends out a weekly email with news and forthcoming events. In our parish we rely on our bi-monthly magazine and the weekly pew sheet. But is it enough? It would appear not.

Listening to this debate about whether Muslim women should be allowed to wear their veil when talking to male MPs and I wonder how long before clergy are told to remove their collars or cassocks. Are they a barrier to communication? I dare say some would say yes, while others no.

Last night Son #1 took me to the King's Theatre to see Tutti Frutti as a belated birthday present. Both of us have fond memories of the series when it was on TV - although his memories were much clearer than mine which is a worry. The cast were excellent and the best lines were from Miss Toner.

We laughed out loud and tapped our feet, and all in all it was a great night out. I must go to the theatre more. I do love it. Frustrated actress that I am.

Visit to the eye specialist yesterday and my cataracts are developing at a great rate. Apparantly this happens when you get them young. Young! Did you hear that? I am young!

I had lots of drops and things squirted in my eyes and got to look at bright lights and all sorts of exciting things until I was completely blind. (That did wear off.)

Three month waiting list till I see the Surgeon for more tests and then another three months till the op. By which point, if they continue to grow at the current rate, I will be totally useless in the sight department. Let's hope they take the Urgent thing to heart and get me in sooner.

Can anyone explain to me how I managed to buy a new DVD player today for less than the cost of a DVD?

It really doesn't seem quite right somehow. And am I encouraging slave labour somewhere in the world? I suspect so. But if that's the case, how come those same slaves are not making DVDs?

Wonderful baptism yesterday at St Mark's. Baby Natasha looked gorgeous in a cream silk number with pink flowers. (I looked not too bad either in white with a Juliet Hemingray stole, although I do say so myself.) My favourite baptism joke got another outing and was appreciated by the congregation. Well, most of them hadn't heard it before.

During the watery bit Natasha had become a little fractious and the only way to keep her quiet was to allow her to play with my gorgeous pink Dior specs. (Somehow the word 'specs' just doesn't seem to do them justice!) By the time we got to the oily bit she had removed them completely which left me as blind as a bat. The children, though, found it highly amusing.

It is always lovely to have the church full and the organ giving it laldy. And we might have another candidate soon... Oh, I do love a good baptism.