Postcards always spoil my holidays.

Postcards always spoil my holidays. Last summer, I went to Italy, I visited museums and sat inpublic gardens. A friendly waiter taught me a few words of Italian. Then he lent me a book. I reada few lines, but I did not understand a word. Everyday I thought about postcards. My holidayspassed quickly, but I did not send cards to my friends. On the last day I made a big decision. I gotup early and bought thirty-seven cards. I spent the whole day in my room, but I did not write asingle card!