Last year, it was under the roaring road and through the sweaty olive grove

to reach Basilica di S. Salvatore, a lovely church, which was chiuso (closed).

Rebecca had soon accused-O me of dragging her through a bug-infested field,

but that is an altogether different story; whereas the point of this one, instead:

Who knew that there was a much shorter stretch of road, straight through town?

Only even Reb admits she’s used the photos from the other trip to stoke her art.

So what’s the point in accounting for dripping sweat when we’re among friends.?