I’m sitting on my bed at the hotel we’re staying at outside Rome, going through the images from yesterday, trying to pick one or two to blog. Going through them I realise how impossible it is to tell you about the day in an image or two. How impossible it always is.
Here’s Mitra in a field in the Italian countryside, the sun setting perfectly in the background.
What it doesn’t show you is how Mitra two days earlier races through the crowd at Piazza di Spagna in Rome, throws herself around my neck and hugs me like a long lost friend. It doesn’t show you how she welcomes us all, takes us around the city for two days, does her own guided tours around historical sites and the Vatican and shows us secret restaurants and other things wonderful.
And it definitely doesn’t show you how she takes my son Noah’s hand dearly, so much so that Noah still holds it every second he gets a chance and looks at her like a boy in love, it really doesn’t show you that at all.
What it does show you is Mitra in a field in the Italian countryside.
The rest of the story will simply have to wait till another day.
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