Rome

Our expectations of an ancient city with cobbled street, crumbling monuments, elaborate fountains and crazy vespa-filled traffic circles would soon come to pass. Once we had collected our luggage, we hastily exited the terminal to find any road that, as the popular idiom promises, would lead us to Rome.

My snoozing was brought to an abrupt end by an intense argument between our minivan driver and a man on the street of an undisclosed town. The shouting match was back and forth like a violent tennis match with no let-up and at full volume. 

The next day I somehow find myself even higher still, simultaneously clutching my seat for dear life while whooping in excitement. Pascal (paragliding pilot extraordinaire) and I are flying high above the snow, circling and turning and spinning and generally acting like excitable puppies let off the leash.