8p.m. Only two hours late. Not like arriving at 5 a.m. by car from Udine or Venice or somewhere, after winter fog in Milan. The Italian government had hoped that the center would help revive Trieste, once the great port of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, but in the summer of 1987 it is still off the main air routes. I’m glad to get a lift along the spectacular coast road to the tiny resort of Grignano—but not, this time, to the homely Hotel Mi- gnon. Surprisingly, the luxurious Adriatico has been taken over as a palace hostel for the center. A discursive dinner with old physics cronies in the fish restaurant by the harbor rounds off the day.

Heavy rain (in August!) prevents my usual morning walk up to the center through the park. The trees planted by the hapless Maximilian around his hideous new castle of Miramare have matured gracefully...

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