23 March 1956
Arrived today at San Remo, Italy, where the clouds lay like thick grey wool, cutting off the tops of mountains. The sea is very green, & the city itself quite small—scattered along the shore like sown seed.
A steady but invisible rain fell all afternoon, & it is rather cold. Tomorrow I’ll have to go over & see what the town is like. Let’s hope the rain is gone by then. I’ll be going with Lloyd Meyers, one of the kids fresh from boot camp—he’s never seen Europe before. He’s in for a surprise.
Almost nothing doing in the line of work today—a few letters for Mr. Clower &, of course, Field Day this morning.
The movie for this evening was "Deep in My Heart," which I’ve seen twice before & was having its premier at the Radio City Music Hall when I was in New York four years ago. Oh, well—someday I may catch up.
Payday was the 17th, at sea—I drew $39.00 & now have $30 of it left. Actually, only $20—Cou borrowed $10 for his car insurance. Out of that remaining $9, I bought two rolls of film for $7.30, & a tour ticket for $5.00; all of which adds up to $3.30 more than I had to begin with. Oh, well, why fight it? Just goes to prove I can spend money & not even go ashore.
Tonite’s letter will be confined to just this one page, if you don’t mind—I got a book of Robert Benchley I want to start. My cold, in case you’re interested, is still firmly entrenched in my throat, having gained some territory & moved back up to directly in the back of my mouth.
I can always use more stamps, mother—2 cent ones, too, so I can send postcards. Mail closes out at ten o’clock, so with your kind permission I will close now.