1. Loving the South

Welcome friends. [written on Monday although it says 'Sunday']

It's the time of year when, once again, I find myself on the road with my satchel full of examining materials finding out how well various sorts are getting by with this English nonsense, which keeps me and numerous others in (gainful) employment.

It's been almost a year since I've been abroad and the one thing travel does, apart from broadening horizons and all that kind of thing, is remind you of things about home. Although I've only been away for a single day (and a bit), I've re-realised several things, as you will read:

While I love London as my home and a fine, yet expensive, place to spend a free weekend, it does concern me that most people's arrive point will be King's Cross. Be it from the north or even the Continent, travellers' arrivals will be met with the hive of scum and villainy that is the King's Cross area. With the dirt, drunkards, bohemian underclass (pejorative) on 'street drugs' (as opposed to the decent middle classes on middle-class 'recreational drugs'), it might be thought, by some, to be a bit of a shit-hole when compared to other international cities. However, this is to forget that railway, and especially bus, stations attract such vibrant and lively members from our opt-in/out stake-holding society. The idea might also forget that it's the same elsewhere in the world, in other major cities, like, er, Rome for example.

Anyway, what I'm saying is, Roma Termini, is rather like being in a home from home. I even paid £3.10 for a small sandwich - how much more like London could it get? [although the sandwich was 'tomato and mozzarella']. There was even a guy getting slowly drunk on Peroni (not Tenants Super here) who, as the puddle around him suggested, had not succeeded in making it to the toilet in time to relieve himself, if indeed he had even thought the journey necessary.

So, arrived I did and boarding a train reminiscent of the one from 'The Casandra Crossing' [pictured], I set out to Caserta - a regal haven in the glorious South. The journey down was a little fraught with some shaky bridges, a headstrong doctor onboard and some pale fellow coughing into the rice in the buffet car, but hey, it's all a border-free Europe these days. But as for Caserta, you can see pictured the hotel I'm staying in...

Only kidding, that's not the hotel, that's the Palazzo Reale, "one of Italy's top tourist attractions with over 460,000 visitors each year". The hotel I'm really staying in is a concrete box - but it does have wireless and a view of a carpark, so I really can't moan. As for the palace, basically, it's the work of Charles VII who built it (not personally, you understand) in 1752 to outclass and rival Versailles. I was only in the huge gardens last year, but this year I hope to pay the 6 euros to gain entry to the 1,200 rooms, etc. etc.

Upon arrival in Caserta, I was struck most not by the vast palace facade, which greets you as you exit the station, or by the drunken bag lady swaggering along the station concourse singing bits of operetta (I confess this is a guess, but it did sound more tuneful than the pissed-up Glaswegian shouting abuse at King's Cross) but by the almighty smell from the accumulated rubbish collecting on the streets owing to the extended waste dispute - lots of waste and those in control don't want to collect it and put it somewhere else. Bit of a problem. No doubt more on this in later blogs (apologies for light quality, but you understand, these photos must be taken under cover of darkness, lest I get accosted by the operetta singing bag lady).

But to the matter at hand: examining. Today I was back in the saddle examining for the first time in a year (for this type of examining anyway). All-in-all fairly straight forward. Lots of young kids getting 'hair', 'eyes' and 'ears' mixed up. Who'd have thought they sounded so similar. All I can be thankful for is that none of these kids are sorting plastic surgery yet - could all get a bit sticky, especially if other body parts got involved. Anyway, here's a picture of what the local teacher kindly brought me for lunch - the glory of examining, eh? Would never have guessed it'd be pizza. Below's a picture of the school I was at. You'll notice from the strong, straight lines and the reinforced cubes of glass that it's clearly a municipal building. Answers on a postcard on what distinguishes it from a prison - and no references to under-age dallying, please.

But it's getting late and I wouldn't want to tell you all my news now, lest I have nothing for tomorrow. So, things to 'look forward to' include coffee and my caffeine hell, more trains (you know you're interested really) and cheap wine. Not to mention the glorious palace 'Reggia di Caserta'. It's so exciting that I can barely stop typing.

E-mail criticism / spelling erors / etc. to the usual gmail account.

b.