crazy conversations

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I had lunch out today, with my beautiful Italian friend and our friend, The Phone Addict {so called because she's *always* connected to her phone in some way.} We stuffed our faces full of a selection of global treats at the stuff as much food into your gob as you can manage! buffet. It was heavenly and scrumptiously divine. Later, my beautiful Italian friend and I wandered back to the city centre, bumping into tourists and students, and jumping out of the way of cyclists. As we meandered along the street, she told me of her sister back home, who is considering becoming a nun. Demons crept into the conversation, closely followed by speaking in tongues {not us, silly} and the facial reconstruction - or transformation - when a person is truly possessed. I love my beautiful Italian friend, but sometimes I have to bite my tongue and try not to laugh at her crazy notions. Schizophrenia, I suggested. Psychosis, I suggested. Too many drugs, I suggested. No, definitely possession, she asserted. Shortly after this we popped into the Catholic Church on the corner. I don't think I have ever been in a functioning Catholic Church in the UK prior to today, and was perhaps a trifle surprised to note that it looked no different to the zillions of protestant churches and cathedrals I've quietly stepped into. I took photos, because I love old churches. We whispered. And God didn't smite me.