A morning's rockpooling. A lunchtime in Monreale where cloisters, although entailing the handing over of 6 Euros to the coffers of the Roman Catholic church, provided an oasis of calm in a hectic day. Or they should have. Instead they provided Chloe with the stage for a diverting, and compulsory, game of hide and seek. Believe me, it was quieter that way. If we didn't engage she filled her lungs and informed the entire town that it was her turn to hide.
Chloe is being subjected to the kind of attention that would raise eyebrows at home. But what is it about Italy that makes a father smile indulgently when his daughter is stopped by the old man sitting on the street corner and kissed? As opposed to snatching her away and reporting him to the authorities.
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