here I am writing the last comment on my globe, direct from Stansted Airport, sipping coffee and eating my last filtred my last cupcake. It's strange how a person can get enough of London, to be seeking to escape from its chaos and its distrust and then try to find a bite to the stomach to see her run away from the windows if the window of a bus.
London will test you without you all your strength and you become exhausted, but then just a moment: just walk past the London Eye lit up at 5 am and see it reflected in the river while on the road the red telephone booths enhanced shine moisture that wets the asphalt.
To me London is like my sister, sometimes hated, and we fight, other times I wanted to embrace them and never leave. But now it's time to go back to my daughter, my Pescara, one that "I watched him grow," small and friendly. You can not choose between a sister and a daughter, are always unconditional love.
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