I drove The Child down to her new school (it's long and complicated, but to keep two schools open, they made one school and sent years 1-3 to one building and years 4 and 5 to the other). There was traffic.

Now The Child has to get the bus to school. It's about 8 or 9 km away and so there is Getting Up Early and Being On Time to think of: the bus leaves at 7:40 and gets her back at 1.30. All for 27 euros a month. Hurrah.
I had to get her a ticket thing, which went something like this:

1) Drive all the way into Urbino and can't find a parking space because they have had the regional Democratic Party festival thing in the main car park, which just happens to be outside the bus ticket office. Car park is full of marquees and litter.

2) Reverse out of the only other semi-convenient car park (full) and kill rear light on a post. Make The Child swear to say it wasn't my fault, if asked, and that posts are meaners with diabolical souls, out to get innocent people, ie. me.

3) Find a free space - as in it is both vacant and also in one of the few spots where parking is not 1.20 an hour! Hurrah! It is also halfway up a hill, leading to another hill, followed by a long walk down two very steep streets to the original car park and bus place.

4) Remember that we need a photo, so we stop off at the photographer's, where about 23 other parents have also remembered they need photos too!

5) Queue. Glumly.

6) Take photos, cut neatly into 6 individual copies - now I have 5 spares - down to the bus ticket place.

7) Queue behind the 23 other parents and assorted aspiring bus users. Glum, but resigned to my fate.

8) Find out that I need a piece of paper from the Schools Office in the town hall, which is back up another couple of hills and also about to close.

9) Say "B*gger this," to The Child and decide to take the lift, thus removing one hill from the equation.

10) Stop off for a piece of take-away pizza because The Child declares she is dying of hunger and will never make it to the town hall in one piece if she is not fed.

11) Get lost in the town hall, which is deceptively bigger on the inside in manner of TARDIS, but whose inhabitants are not nearly so nice or interesting. I suspect their blood sugar levels are doing things similar to those of The Child, who is saying nothing on account of stuffing her face with pizza (mozzarella and potato - I recommend it for keeping small children quiet).

12) Find office at third attempt. The door is closed, but when I open it, there are still people at their desks. It is 6 minutes past closing time. They try to send me away, but I cut such a pathetic figure (foreign person, never did bus ticket things before, need bus thing for child, urgently, really didn't know it was necessary to come all the way up here....blah, blah, minus sobbing - am prepared to sob if needed) that they let me stay.

13) Get given form, fill in form, they stamp form, we leave, with instructions to close the office door and outer door firmly behind us!

14) Return to bus place. Hand over money, form and photo. Have to pay another 7 euros just for the bus pass thing. The photo is scanned, so now I have 6 spare copies...

15) Mission accomplished. The Child can now get the bus to school.

16) Shops are all closed for lunch, so decide to leave the purchasing of a new ruler and exercise books until the afternoon. After a lie down.

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