Roman Swedish Days - Part IV

As it always happens, this international parenthesis is over. As I write, in fact, the last ones of the little swedish group that has been going around Rome in the last days should be home.

Yesterday the last night celebrations was much less intense than it usually is in such circumstances, and the fact that most of the italians who took care of the guests were all workers (hence people who had slept an average of 4 hours a day for the last week dealing with staying up as late as possible and than waking up early enough to be on time at work) might have something to do with it. That could actually have me starting a whole line of thoughts about the state of my poor association in Rome, made mostly by graduated student and workers and totally deprived of fresh blood, but that's too depressing and I will skip it.

Also the guests looked fatigued after 4 days of forced marches in the city. Kristine, even being only half swedish, and the others apparently are the perfect example of how those people could wage war against Russia and march all the way to Ukraine in the XVIII century during the Great Northern War.

Anyway, we gathered at Maria Rosaria's house and enjoyed a few hours of dining, drinking (even if not as much as it had been 2 days before at Francesca's) and chatting along, even if it was pretty evident the two groups, the italian and the swedish, had not really mixed up much, and that was indeed a pity. If that happened because the italians were unable to join them for most of the days due work, of the incident Kristine had with her host had influenced the whole group, if indeed there was too little time, I do not know, but indeed this time the relations between the two ELSA groups were civil (with some exceptions), but nothing more. As I said, a pity. Who knows, maybe during teh rturn visit in Stockholm, yet to be planned. I'm reallytempted about bein gpart o fit, if possible, the city being one of those missing in my barely failed "capitals to visit within my 30th birthday" plan.

As part of the people moved on to go dancing, half the swedish and myself opted out and I found myself, in the impossibility of driving them, walking Catherine and Kristine to their home (the distance of I admit of having underestimated... turned out that to walk both ways it was almost 3 kms) with the added few more feminist punches by the latter on the way... I seriously regret not having had time to discuss a bit more with her: most probably it would had ended in blood, but maybe not... and in any case it would had been interesting. Incidentally, now I know why both Michael and Erik at this or that time expressed their hidden desire to migrate south...