This of course is not the type of photo you wanna bring back from an Italian vacation. No matter the fun Karl had kicking it in the puddles of the surrounding vineyards. The great moment of mother-son-bonding in the arcades of the Arena di Verona below was also the prelude to a rather hilarious monsoonish afternoon we spent mainly under the massive umbrellas of a street cafe, before capitulating and running to the garage, where we arrived drenched basically drove home in improvised rag outfits.
But, aaah, just kidding, those were three out of the ten days. We just don't want to create too much envy, since most of the times of course was spent in balmy conditions like this:
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