It came back to me like a tired traveller punching the air as she takes the first step back on British tarmac...
Just as I'd settled myself down for a nice morning...um... ablution, my trusty family just t'other side of the the door waiting for their breakfast at the most beautiful Osteria this side of the Tuscan border... I went suddenly blind. But not. The lights had gone out. So, with frillies caught betwixt knee and ankle, I felt about the walls in search of switch and found nothing. Don't panic. Knickers up, chest out, just open the door and fumble about elsewhere - the switch must be on the outside. But can't get outside for lock will not turn and when I take the key out it (obviously - now why didn't I see that one coming? oh yeah - cos it's DARK!) falls to the floor. More fumbling. Much door rattling. Bit panicking. Followed by lot panicking. Followed by finding key, unlocking door, opening door and finding lighted church candle being passed through doorway by beautiful Italian lady who smiles sadly at British Bumbling Buffoon caught with knickers down.Ah well, to be expected I guess - at least I wasn't caught shame-faced having a pee in the EasyJet loo on the way home by a shocked four year old this year.
Oh, the memories.
(Strangely, mostly very toilet-based, I notice)