In my last post, I forgot to include some adventures and misadventures.

Adventure in Trieste – I caught this super old tram up from the city to Villa Opicina, which is very close to the border of Slovenia. The whole tram was made out of wood and it was a fantastic ride – providing full vistas of the city and sea below

Misadventure in Bologna – After my first date in Bologna, I was exhausted and watching episodes of Graham Norton, my lovely boyfriend offered to go and get us some dinner, which I was incredibly grateful for.

After watching two episodes of the show (approx. 40 minutes each), my boyfriend still hadn’t returned and I started to get a little worried. “How long does it take to get food?” I thought to myself. I made myself a tea and sat back to watch another episode. Halfway through, he still hadn’t returned. I was trying so so hard not to worry, but of course I was thinking the worst – it’d been over 2 hours. As he had taken the keys, I couldn’t leave the apartment because it took 3 keys to get into the house (it was like Fort Knox). Second tea drunk, that’s when the tears started.

Whilst frantically checking the peephole every 5 seconds, pacing, wondering what the heck I was going to do, he finally returned after 2 and a half hours with shopping bags and three massive pizzas. Puffy and snotty he hugged me until I calmed down. He’d gone out for a cheeky beer and didn’t think to find any wifi.

The sweet man bought me breakfast things, so I couldn’t stay upset for long. In the morning, while he was out on his run, I called my dad and made myself a piece of toast (over the burner, skewered with a massive knife). I grabbed the butter and jam and sat at the table, excited about my toast.

I opened the butter and thought it smelled rather odd, but spread it onto my toast anyway. “That’s weird”, I tell dad, “this butters not melting very well”. I went ahead and spread my apricot jam on my toast. Took a massive bite and thought that it tasted a little odd, but I was hungry and kept eating a few more bites. I stopped suddenly and tell dad that my toast tastes funky.

I grabbed the butter and tried to find the word “burro” on the packaging, somewhere….anywhere.

It was not butter…

It was fresh yeast.

Never before have I ever been more disgusted in my life. I had to show my boyfriend when he got back. By the time he returned, the yeast had started activating. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that smell.

Buon Appetito,

– Miss Adventure