General MacArthur stood with his back to the mantelpiece. He pulled at his little white moustache. That had been a damned good dinner! His spirits were rising. Lombard turned over the pages of Punch that lay with other papers on a table by the wall. Rogers went round with the coffee tray. The coffee was good, really black and very hot.
The whole party had dined well. They were satisfied with themselves and with life.
– From “And then there were none”, by Agatha Christie.
When our trip organiser declared that it was time for lunch and that we were to find our own, we somehow ended up gravitating towards the port of Bolsena. Maybe we were feeling the call of the waters, and needed to see the lake from a closer distance…