I just got back from
The Hill That Breathes in Italy. It's a truly beautiful place and I would recommend at least a week there every year. The chef, Ulysee, had a guitar there which I plinked and plonked on. A cheap nylon string Spanish guitar with steel strings on it. Ouch. But you know what? Even though it was a bugger to tune, it had a sound like some old blues recording. Like Mississippi John Hurt sitting in the sun playing Stagolee. I loved it.
