Holy Providence!

I crossed the border into Italy this morning. It’s somehow been very difficult of late to hitchhike anywhere, so by default I hop. I like to hop. Hopping, I’ll have you know, is a very efficient mode of travel. You don’t have to stop anywhere for gas (I pass gas while hopping) and you basically go straight all the time whereas motorvehicles are damned to follow the pre-ordained and often highly inefficient curvatures of manmade paths and roads. In this way, hopping in a straight line is in fact the fastest mode of transport available to bunnies, ánd people if they’d only open up to its vast possibilities. It could change the world forever. Hopping might one day be what the inhibitively expensive Segway never was. Jumping and skipping about like this I contemplate my journey. I can’t fathom what Cassandra could possibly have meant when she said that I would be “very interested to hear what she has to say.” I’m always interested in what someone has to say, unless it’s something very uninteresting obviously. Then I pretend not to hear and I’ll go nibble on little chewy bits if I can find them. If not I usually settle for expensive furniture (I’m not that much into the Ikea stuff; it’s bad for the teeth you know). This is what I imagine jail or hell for bunnies must be like; thousands and thousands of hungry rabbits and there’s only an Ektorp or Tylösal couch for gnawing on… with no teeth. Sometimes I wake up with thoughts like these, sweating. I should see someone about that perhaps. I haven’t advanced more than 30 kilometers into Italy, but I love it already. It’s beautiful, and the behavior of drivers is only half as erratic and maniacal as urban legend would have you believe (but still quite disturbing though). There is a fantastic lake here and the word Como recurs a lot in road signs and billboards so I assume that that is the name of the town. The sun’s out and I’ve been chomping down on a loaf of bread that mysteriously fell off a bicycle about an hour ago. Holy providence! Yes, I can feel the peculiar sanctity of Rome. It’s calling me.