I was in riding up front on a horse-drawn wagon full of nuns, on a dirt road through the Italian alps. I was Albert Einstein, wearing a light plaid shirt of black and white, and a pair of grey trousers. I kept standing up on the seat and holding the edges of an imaginary wimple, saying, "Ooh wee, I'm Sister Bertrille!" The nuns were eyeing me disdainfully, obviously not amused.

We eventually stopped at an inn, and in the apple orchard next to it I actually raised myself up into the air, and with a bit of arm flapping kept myself there. A couple of the nuns were watching me from around the corner of the building, incredulous. I was whooping, "Look at me! I'm the flying Einstein!" I was having a ball.

A bit later the nuns and I were inside the inn for dinner, and some kind of tussle broke out; this real tall guy managed to knock down a chandelier which knocked everyone underneath it out cold, including a few nuns. Everybody in the place turned and looked at me though, as if I, The Flying Einstein, had been flying around again and caused all the trouble. I sat there imploringly, clutching this little white damask pillow saying, "no, no I didn't do it!"