Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death and, in the normal run of things, would be the occasion of my annual trip to church. However, although, having been brought up a Presbyterian, I can pretty much bluff my way through a CofE service, a Catholic service in Italian felt like a bridge too far – I just wasn’t sufficiently confident of not messing up in a way that would offend the locals.

Level 2 Chi Kung. Microcosmic orbit. Egg and anchovies on toast for breakfast – yum. Herculaneum! Not as mind-blowing as Pompeii but smaller, almost empty, and much more manageable with the children. We had timed our visit for late afternoon/evening which helped, but it was still so hot that sweat was trickling down our faces like tears. Arrived home about 9pm absolutely starving, so it was good that there was large quantity of risotto leftover from last night which I quickly fashioned into (very) rough and ready arancini which we ate with a bit of salad and (in my case) a large glass of prosecco. Yesterday I was really cursing my decision to make risotto. At home I always make the Ligurian version, which is baked in the oven like a rice pudding, but here there is no lidded oven dish so I made it on the stove top – I had completely forgotten what a pain it is to do that 20 minutes of constant stirring! And worse in an unsuitable pot with only a pasta spoon to stir with! But hey, it really filled a gap when we were all tired and hungry tonight so it was worth it in the end.