San Remo, a town of charm and faded grandeur

This is a very, very nice hotel, with more staff per square inch than Buckingham Palace. At breakfast I clattered the lid of the container containing the eggs and bacon. No sooner had the last echo finished ringing around the dining room than I was helped to put things right by a gorgeous young waitress who had also noted that I kept returning to my table without a fork. She was very observant and probably works for the Italian secret service in her spare time. Talking about gorgeous young women, this place is full of 'the beautiful people'. I've tried hard all my life to join the set, but lack that certain something, like a beautiful body, good looks and money. Ah well, one day?

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They have thought of everything at this hotel. One very useful thing, is the very gentle night light that you can switch on to aid your nocturnal wanderings. It's so gentle and unobtrusive that you don't notice it as you go to sleep but it gently guides you on your way as you navigate round the room in the middle of the night. Excellent.

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San Remo has an air of faded grandeur (you must feel really at home then - Ed.). Like Nice, along the coast, it became popular in the late 19th Century, and was populated by the great and good of Europe. One of the first buildings we came across, right next door to the hotel, was a Russian Orthodox Church. Evidently, San Remo was frequented by the mother of the last Russian Czar (Nick the third I think) and there was a large Russian presence living here. The church was never fully finished and is a little bare inside but the exterior is quite spectacular and unusual for this part of the world. For some reason I'm having difficulty uploading pictures, so you will just have to imagine!

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It was a little windy this morning so we decided to explore the town and wandered into the centro storico. This was very attractive, with narrow streets and washing hanging from the balconies, but after an hour or two of culture, about as much as either of us can stand, we sat in a bar on the main drag and watched the world go by. We both really like Italy. There we are, sitting in a roadside bar, breathing in enough exhaust fumes and carbon dioxide to keep the planet going for a few more years, but loving every minute of it. Jan really loves the language and understands it very well, considering that she has never studied it. We could easily up sticks and move to Italy, but that would be quite a big project. Still, you never know.