I sit in an hotel in Copenhagen. Somebody is running, somebody is playing ping pong. I read the biography of Anna Eleanor Roosevelt on my kindle. It is amazing how inspiring and easy it is to get new books on such an electronic device. I look at the pictures I took yesterday while the plane-  totally full of Scandinavian people – was leaving Pisa. The sports hall, the Aurelia road, a bit of Barbaricina are in time and place near and far away. Life is good.