The Italians are a noisy lot. But possibly not as noisy as the Greeks.
This is a beautiful city.
In Via Garibaldi, the grandeur of Italy's largest port hits you right between the eyes.
Our hotel was hard to find in a 1969 Beetle in the blistering heat. But it's quirky, just as I like it.
We're heading west today, off to my dad's cousin in Provence before sweeping across to Toulouse to visit a former colleague and catch up with her news. And then it's up to the Dordogne to see our old chef. (I was a publican in a previous life. Christophe became our good friend).
And, then, on Oak Apple Day, King Charles II's birthday, we'll board a cross channel ferry back to Blighty. Bella the Beetle will be dwarfed by all the other vehicles. Here she is coming off the ferry from Corfu to the mainland.
It'll be good to be back home, at least for a while.
But, I have to say, the Corfiots put on a great show for us on our last day on the island. Although it did happen to coincide with the 150th anniversary of the British ceding the seven Ionian islands to Greece.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x