Early next morning we were on our way, hopefully to soon find a POL location, but we were diverted when, about five miles short of Florence, we saw a sign on the right-hand side of the road pointing to the home of The Florence Golf Club.

 I recall saying to my companion something to the effect that it was a  course I had to see. Sure enough, after a short drive we pulled in
 front of Golf dell'Ugolino's elegant clubhouse. We had arrived where  shortly before the outbreak of the war, a couple of professional  friends of my Father had played in the Italian Open - the course, one of Italy's finest, having been opened for play in the mid-thirties. Somewhat surprisingly, the course looked to be in excellent shape, so much so, it was with great reluctance that I turned down the offer of a loan of a bag of clubs with which to play a few holes - we had to press on. However, we did find time to share a glass of vino with a rather ancient gentleman, a member for over half a century. A most interesting chap, he proudly told us that not one German soldier had set foot in "his" clubhouse!

Once more we were on our way, soon to cross the river Arno, arriving in Florence where we quickly located the POL point. Resisting the temptation to explore the city - or, more truthfully, we felt it prudent not to further delay our return to the bosom of the Regiment perhaps having to face questions as to why we had been away for so many days!

Exiting Florence on the Hwy S67, in a couple of hours we reached Forli to there turn south-east to arrive home about an hour later. First things being first, we sought out RQMS Docksey to deliver our cargo and to account for the monies expended. It turned out, our fears of being questioned proved to be groundless! Thus ended a pleasant semi-tour of Central Italy.

The following day word came that Major Sidebottom wanted to see both myself and Alan Hughes. When we reported, he first told us that the Squadron had been allotted a week's leave for two, at a Rest Centre located on the shores of Lago di Como in Northern Italy. Then he went on to tell us that he had decided that Alan and myself should be going. Alan richly deserved the rest, but myself also after being away so much? I remember, although I had learnt long ago that one does not look into the mouth of a gift horse, I was so astonished that my thanks must have seemed to be less than adequate.