Italian bus drivers, like their conduttore-kin elsewhere in the Mediterranean, are some of the most skilled to be found anywhere. Adept at funneling their craft through impossibly narrow streets, able to handle scooters and tiny Fiats that constantly cut right in front of them, and pretty timely — considering the traffic they have to deal with — they are a proudly professional lot.

We’ve had a hiatus from posting this week, as three of us were struck by a very nasty 30-hr stomach virus which only rivaled (in my experience) the Great Turkish Stomach Bug of ’99. But yesterday we all boarded the G bus to find a store called Anna Sport, several miles outside of town, so the boys could get measured for their Don Bosco soccer kit.

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