packing/unpacking

I'm all packed up now for my trip to Italy tomorrow. I like packing, it's like making an inventory of my life, preparing for a new thing, chosing things, discarding things, what do I need, how hopefull am I that the weather will stay at +35C with no rain? How much room shall I leave in the suitcase for winebottles on the way home (this is the most important thing, last year I managed six bottles in a small cabin case coming back from France, Budapest, only four and a half)?
The friend I'm travelling with is at home washing all his new clothes to avoid them looking to new when he gets down to Italy. I think he wants to turn up in Verona, stroll in to some café and be taken for a local.

Swedes have a strange habit when we travel, God forbid that we should talk to any other Swedes, or even make ourselves known to any other Swedes. I don't know if any other country does this but with Swedes it's a thing of honour, our holiday is not as genuine if we meet other Swedes, not as exclusive. I mean, dear God, Herr and Fru Eriksson from Bandhagen made it all the way here too, how exclusive can it be? Never mind the hundreds Japanese milling around the sights, if we spot another Swede the place is immediatly classified as "touristy".

Don't know why I rambled on to that topic, probably because I know I'll do it myself. I know I'll be sitting in some café in Venice, talking English to the Aussie friends I'm travelling with and eaves-dropping on the Swedish family next to me, rolling my eyes at my equally Swedish friend at how "touristy" they look. It has even developed in to a game. When I was in Melbourne years ago with some Aussies we would spot the Scandinavians in the crowd and I would then sneak up, stand next to them for a while and listen in to see if we were right. We usually were, Scandinavians, especially Swedes, Finns and Norweigans, stand out like sore thumbs in any international crowd. It's a combination of looks, hair style, dress style and height. Even a Swede who has lived abroad for many years is easy to spot, it's just something rather undefinable which is impossible to shed.

Wine, mum's cooking and a returned brother is calling me from upstairs in the summer house. Will return in little over a week with a belly full of Italian food and wine.

/Mel