Embarrassing Incidents

One of my readers has persuaded me to share the embarrassing incidents I endured while traveling. I didn't write about them at the time because they were, well, embarrassing! But with the passage of days, the sting has faded so here goes:

The Tour Guide Incident
This one occurred at Vatican City when I was exiting the Sistine Chapel. My out-of-date Rick Steves guide book mentioned a door at the rear right of the chapel and said that if you go through that door, it will save you a lot of walking. The door has a sign on it that says it is only for tour groups but, Rick assured me, it is OK for individuals to pass through too. Well, when I found the door, I discovered a guard standing in front of it, and I did not have the moxie to push past him citing authority from Rick Steves. Instead, I decided to wait until a tour group assembled and then I'd walk through with them as if I were part of the group.

This strategy worked beautifully, but only for a nanosecond. On the other side of of the door I was momentarily confused about which way to walk so I hung back a second to see which way the tour group would go. That's when the tour guide spotted me. Uh oh. I thought he would scold me for following his group through the door and truthfully, that would have been justified. But no. He went on for a full minute in heavily accented English about how he had noticed me following his group all through the Vatican Museum, and how I was such a cheater for glomming onto his tour for free when everyone else paid. I was dumbstruck! It was totally untrue! This was my first encounter with this group. In fact, I had sat around in the Sistine Chapel for at least 10 minutes waiting for any tour group to approach that door, and his was the first one that came along.

I started to defend myself but I could see it would be pointless, so I just gave him a 'stop it' gesture and slunk away. As I did so, I heard one of his charges say “I don't remember seeing her!” and I had to stop myself from turning around to explain. Even though I was innocent of the larger crime, I did do the door-sneaking thing, so all in all, it was pretty humiliating.

The Sunglasses Incident
I brought a pair of sunglasses with me but within the first hour of the first day, they were driving me crazy. They were an old pair that had been stretched out. So whenever I tilted my head to look at my map or tourist info or anything, the glasses slid off my face. Thus, a new pair of sunglasses was in order.

There are street vendors everywhere selling guide books, hats, trinkets and sunglasses. So I finally stopped at one. Not being picky, I selected a junky pair of glasses and put them on, only caring if they would stay put on my face. I asked the guy how much and he named what I thought was a ridiculous price. Feeling very clever, I named the price I was willing to pay and we dickered back and forth until we reached agreement. I paid him, took the glasses and moved on.

Only in retrospect did I realize that I misunderstood him. I pretty sure I negotiated him UP to about twice what he was asking for !!! Oh well, he got a good story to tell all his friends that evening!

The Train Ticket Incident
As you'll recall, I decided to stop in Pisa when I was in transit from Florence to Cinque Terre. I had checked beforehand, and according to the internet, it was OK if you stop off at one of the interim train stations between your departure and destination – so long as you complete your journey within 6 hours. And I had done this type of maneuver a few years ago on an earlier trip. Still, before leaving Florence, I asked the friendly desk guy at my hotel if Trenitalia allowed for stop-offs of this nature. He assured me it was no problem.

Well, you can guess what happened. After my stop off in Pisa, I caught the next train to complete my trip to Cinque Terre. When the ticket-checker guy came through our carriage, he puzzled over my ticket for a few minutes and then explained that it was no good – it was for the earlier train and I was not supposed to be on this train. I explained that I had been informed blah blah blah but he didn't buy it. Long story short, I had to pay about 10 euro to rectify the situation, and again, endure the stares from others in the carriage who assumed I was a cheater and/or stupid. Being an American, I had the terrible urge to explain how none of it was my fault. But one of those cultural differences is that nobody cares about that, so once again, I just sucked it up.

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There you have it: traveling is not all good times and glamor. Although I did have to swallow some bile after each of these incidents, I hasten to add that before leaving, I was prepared for things like this to occur. I was also prepared to get lost, to get tired, to encounter language barriers, and to commit faux pas all of which I did. But that's part of the deal, and although it's not my normal nature, I was able to get past such issues and continue to enjoy myself. I wish the same for you on your traveling adventures!

Exit Strategy

I'm home now folks, exhausted but safe. I wrote the following on Satuday:
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So far, my exit strategy is proceeding as planned, but not without some anxious moments. After seeing The Last Supper this morning (see prior post), I walked back to my hotel, finished packing and checked out. On the way out the door, I re-checked the info I have on how to take the bus from Milano Centrale train station to Linate airport. It says that the bus runs da lunedi a venerdi. I know that lunedi is Monday, but suddenly, it dawned on me that I didn't know what day venerdi is, and it sounds a lot like the French word for Friday. I fished out my Italian phrase book and to my horror, confirmed that venerdi is Friday and oops, today is Saturday. Thus, according to the info I had, my plan to take the bus to the airport was no good. Still, I reasoned, people have to get to the airport somehow on Saturdays and the best chance of getting there is from Milano Centrale, so I took the subway to MC stazione as planned. After getting there, I followed a bunch of signs depicting paired bus and airplane symbols. To my relief, I found that the bus does, indeed, run on Saturdays. I bought my ticket, found the bus, boarded, and it left within minutes. Whew!

After a half hour ride, I arrived at Linate. I did a little airport reconnaissance so I can find my way around tomorrow morning, and then asked at a tourist desk to get directions for the Holiday Inn airport shuttle. I went where instructed, but didn't see any sign of any hotel airport shuttles, much less mine. Suddenly, a man jumped out of a car and asked if I was looking for the Holiday Inn shuttle. Relieved, I said yes and loaded my stuff into his car. Off we went and I belatedly realized I had just gotten into an unmarked car with a stranger. My anxiety mounted as we seemed to be driving further than I thought it should be, but all ended well when he pulled into the HI parking lot. I spilled out of the car, nearly liquid with relief, and got checked in.

This hotel is a delight after the last one. It is a near-American style room with a proper shower and towel bars and everything. I've washed my raggedy hair and will remain holed up with my book, computer, and CNN until heading back to the airport early Sunday morning.

The Last Supper

Viewing of Leonardo Da Vinci's The Last Supper is carefully controlled, so as to maintain an environment conducive to its continued survival. Only a few people are allowed in at a time and you're unlikely to get in without an advance reservation. I had one for the first appointment of the day at 8:15, and they instruct you to show up 15 minutes early. This in itself is remarkable since, for the most part, nothing seems to happen or open in Italy before 9am.

I left my hotel in plenty of time and walked the short distance to Santa Maria delle Grazie. Most everything was closed, but I found an open caffe near the church and got my morning standing cappuccino (I recently learned that the Italian word for caffe has two f's). I stood outside the Cenacolo Vinciano with other early tourists. At precisely 8am, the wood door retracted into the sidewalk, a startling high tech feature built into an ancient building. Inside, they were all efficiency, checking our reservations and directing the few of us with 8:15 tickets to a holding area. When it was time, we were ushered through a series of glass chambers that are meant to isolate the refectory room from the outside atmosphere. This was another surprising high tech experience – after we entered one glassed-in chamber, the doors automatically closed behind us; then other doors automatically opened in front of us, advancing us to the next chamber. It reminded me of the opening sequence to the Get Smart show.

We finally made it to the refectory where da Vinci's Last Supper on one wall faces Donato Montorfano's Crucifixion on the opposite wall. The Last Supper is beautiful. I don't know how vivid the colors were originally, but they remain more vibrant than I expected, even as the overall effect is soft and ethereal. It's a bit smaller than I thought, but fills the entire wall and is painted to look like a continuation of the room. It was enjoyable to view both works in a huge room with only about 15 of us present.

This was my last official sight-seeing stop, and I felt it was a fitting conclusion to my whirlwind tour.

Un Giorno in Milano

With my departure logistics seemingly resolved (see prior post), I set out to sight-see this morning. I overcame my duomo fatigue and toured Milan's Cathedral/Duomo dedicated to Maria Nascente. Although this structure is referred to as the Duomo, and it does have one, the dome is not obvious from the outside. You have to go inside to see it, which I did. Although the cathedral interior is huge, in my opinion it is the least impressive of the duomos from an artistic standpoint.

However, as you can see from the photos, this cathedral is a Gothic cluster-you-know-what. It took several centuries to build and features hundreds of exterior sculptures carved by numerous European artists. There are also grotesque gargoyles all around the exterior – these serve as rainwater downspouts. The cathedral facade was cleaned in 2006, so the marble and concrete looks good for now. The building was constructed with stairway access to the roof so I climbed up. The close-up views of the Gothic spires and detail from this vantage point are way more intriguing than views of the surrounding area.

Next, I went window shopping on one of the fancier shopping streets in Milan, finding all of the stores one would expect: Prada, Armani, Ferragamo, Versace, etc. It was uncrowded when I first arrived, but shortly, the sidewalks filled with exactly the kind of people I expected to see in Milan. Well built women and men in stylish clothes, carrying shopping bags and sporting cool shades, cigarettes and cell phones. I took a self inventory: my skirt might have been passable, but I was wearing a Timex watch, a shirt bought at Costco, sunglasses I found on the beach, and my semi-clod hopper sandals. No way was I going inside any of the posh shops. See my photo selection for a few unusual sights.

I spent the rest of the afternoon walking through a nice public park, lunching, and exploring the Castello (castle) Sforszesco. Tomorrow I have reservations to see the The Last Supper and then I will spend the day packing and getting myself to the Holiday Inn for my trip home. I'm ready!

Photos

Good News, Bad News

GN: I made it to Milan with no trouble. The train ride was enjoyable and after arriving at Milano Centrale, I quickly figured out the metro and walking route to my hotel. BN: My hotel sucks. I have a room devoid of charm. There is a sink and bidet at the foot of the bed, a tiny shower with not enough water to get my hair wet, and a toilet/bathroom down the hall. GN: they have wi-fi access which I didn't discover until this morning.

BN: I realized rather late that I had planned poorly for my Sunday departure. My plane leaves at 7am which means I need to be at the airport ~5:30 am and there is no way to get there that early except pay a taxi an exorbitant amount. Plus, I'd have to worry all night as to whether the taxi would really show up at 4:45 or whatever. I woke up off-and-on all night fretting about this. GN: I got online this morning and made a reservation at the Holiday Inn (thank you very much) near the airport. I'll spend Sat night there and take their shuttle or short taxi ride (2 miles) in the morning to the airport. This seems to be the closest hotel to the airport – there is not one on the premises. I told my hotel here I'll be leaving a day earlier than planned, and I'm pretty sure they're not going to charge me for that canceled day, since I gave them 24 hours notice. BN: How do I get to the Holiday Inn? Either a train or subway during daytime hours will get me semi-close but then . . . GN: I realized I could take the train station - to - airport bus on Saturday (which does not run early enough for my Sunday flight) and then take the Holiday Inn shuttle back to the hotel for Sat. night. Hope this works!!!

Lazy Day

Today was another warm but rainy day on the Mediterranean. I spent it walking, resting and taking care of logistics. I stopped first by the train station thinking to get my ticket for tomorrow, but it was mid morning and the station was mobbed . Unlike larger train stations, this one does not have self-serve ticket kiosks and there here were at least 30 groups of people lined up at the single ticket window.

I decided to come back later and ended up taking a long walk up a hillside road I had never before explored. This took me by quieter B&Bs as well as private residences. Rounding a curve, I discovered a huge and attractive building that I thought must be a resort. However, it turned out to be (I think) a residence for old folks who are without families or other resources. It's beautiful, high up on a hill overlooking Monterosso's new town shoreline.

After returning to the lowlands, I stopped at a tabacchi and bought a new international phone card (I quickly used up the sim card purchased in Rome, and have since been using intentional calling cards which, it turns out, are a cheap way to call using a landline. They cost 5 Euro for 3-5 hours of talk time, depending on the card. Thus, I've been calling home and having leisurely talks with Rob nearly every day). Next, I gathered up my laundry and dropped it off at a tiny launderette run by a 30-something young man. After this, I spent some quality time with my book, eating lunch, slurping gelato (gelato's reputation is well earned!) and wading in the surf.

Later on, I returned to the train station and finding it uncrowded, bought my ticket for Milan tomorrow. I swung by the laundry service and picked up my clothes. The young man handed over a bundle, still warm from the dryer and wrapped in crisp brown paper. It looked and felt like a giant, fresh baked dinner roll.

Rain resumed this afternoon, and I have spent the time indoors reading, writing and listening to intermittent thunder church bells.

Note: I'm unsure of my internet situation in Milan - so I hope this won't be my last post before returning home!

The Walking Stick Incident

A number of hikers I encountered on the Cinque Terre trails were sporting walking sticks. I've seen these occasionally in the US, but they must be more popular elsewhere, because a lot of people had them. At first, it seemed that mainly German hikers use them, but then at least two sets of French speaking hikers clicked past me with their sticks. The sticks come with different types of tips (perhaps interchangeable?). Many of them look just like ski poles and I wondered how those pointy things are allowed past airline security. They are potentially more dangerous than other banned items, such as nail clippers. Finally, I noticed that some of them collapse into about a 2 foot length, which I suppose could be fit into one's checked luggage. Anyway, they were a curiosity that I bet we'll see more of in the US in the coming years.

In a few places along the hiking trails, there are clearings where cats congregate and kindly people regularly leave food for them. I had just reached one such clearing and, like other hikers passing through, stopped by a bench to pet a cat who had been resting there. The cat was eager for affection and stood up, pushing her head into my hand and prancing about. Suddenly, a walking stick wielding woman bustled over to the bench. She used the pointy end of her stick to poke the cat and drive it off the bench. Next, she elbowed me out of the way and placed her walking sticks lengthwise across the bench so no-one else could sit there. Then she proceeded to smooth a plastic bag onto the bench so she could sit without mussing her precious high-tech hiking pants. I nearly grabbed one of her sticks and walloped her with it. But I restrained myself, picturing her with devil's horns as I trudged away.

Photos here.

I Think It is Tuesday

My time in the Cinque Terre is proving to be as restful as I had hoped. On the first night of my arrival, there were thrilling overnight thunderstorms that woke me up several times. The hotel electricity kept going out and each time, a bright emergency light flickered in my room like lightening. By morning, the thunder had passed, but it was still rainy, windy and overcast. The hiking trails were all closed, so I spent the day alternately snoozing and reading.

Today was a gorgeous day and the trails were all open. I decided to hike from here (Monterosso) to Vernazza, the next town over, and then decide if I wanted to keep going. This took me a little less than 2 hours and since I wasn't hungry yet, I hiked to the next town (Cerniglia) where I had lunch at a lovely hilltop restaurant with a great view. Since I had completed the hardest two legs of the five town hike, I decided to do the rest, so I pushed on, making it to Riomagggiore (the southernmost of the five towns) by around 3:30. I took the train back, quickly changed into my bathing suit, and spent an hour on the beach and in the refreshing Ligurian sea.

The views from the hiking trails are just spectacular. The Cinque Terre region produces a dry white wine as well as a sweet dessert wine, and the hillsides are covered with terraced vineyards, mixed with groves of olive and lemon trees. The trails also take hikers past private hillside residences with their own gardens of tomatoes, basil, peppers and greens. I've attached a small selection of photos - they speak for themselves.

We Silly Americans

One of the interesting aspects of foreign travel is that one gets an outside perspective on US happenings. To my surprise, I discovered that European countries follow US news much more closely than the US public follows the news of other countries (maybe that shouldn't be such a big surprise). Admittedly, most of what I'm getting on this trip comes from international CNN (usually the only English language TV station the hotels get), but even so, most of the reporters and anchors are from non-US countries. Aside from the world cup qualifying that dominates EVERY news cast, the big stories right now are: Obama's health care speech, the 'you lie' S.C. Senator, Obama's advice to children to stay in school, and Serena Williams' temper meltdown at the US open.

I confess, I can't for the life of me understand what could have been controversial about Obama encouraging children to stay in school. International CNN is not showing clips of Rush Limbaugh or other conservatives (thank you CNN!) so I am at a loss as to what argument they are making to vilify such an innocuous position. All I can say is, you don't see Democrats going after Arnold for advocating fitness and exercise.

The international perspective on health care is also amusing. The other day, I watched as a news anchor asked of an American reporter (paraphrasing), “Being used to our British health care system, it's hard for me to understand why the American people are hesitant to embrace public health coverage. Can you explain?” The American reporter tossed out the fears of death panels, rationing, and unfair competition but the British anchor woman wasn't buying it. “I see” she said, but clearly, she didn't.

The other two stories – 'you lie' and Serena Williams – are duly reported, but not with as much drama as I suspect they are reported in the US. Perhaps this is because, in the eyes of the international community, such obnoxious behavior is par for the American course.

A Piece of Pisa

As planned, I made my stop-off in Pisa today. The Pisa train station has a 'left luggage' service so I stowed my bag for 3 euro (they take a copy of your passport to do this), consulted a map posted outside the train station, and walked the mile or so to the leaning tower. Predictably, it was swarming with tourists, most of them taking turns posing with mime-hands to get photos of themselves looking like they are pushing the tower back upright. I considered asking someone to take my photo like this, but decided against it, opting to retain this one grain of dignity.

But I'm glad I took this detour. Leaving aside that it is substantially akimbo, the tower is beautiful. And I had been clueless about the fact that the tower is adjacent to a gorgeous cathedral and – you guessed it – another impressive duomo. I walked the grounds and snapped the tower from every angle, but I did not climb it or the duomo. Frankly, I've reached a point of duomo-fatigue. Also, I was toting around my backpack which was heavy and bulky, and I imagined myself getting wedged in one of those narrow stairways. I did go inside the cathedral, but didn't linger since Sunday services were in progress. Somehow, it didn't feel right that they were parading us tourists through the back of the sanctuary while prayers were being said in the front.

Afterward, I stopped for lunch, rescued my luggage and got back on the train. See the few photos I took from the train of blocks of Carrara marble sitting along the railway tracks awaiting transport. I also tried to capture the dramatic cliffs of the distant marble quarry, but they're hard to see in the photos.

I arrived in Monterosso around 3pm. The weather and ocean are beautiful and I waded into the surf, happy to discover that it's not very cold. I'll spend the next few days hiking the trails of Cinque Terre and sitting on the tiny beach with my book. Now THAT's a vacation!

click here for photos

Two Timeless Days in Florence

I'm leaving Florence tomorrow, so it's time I gave my fellow travelers a sightseeing update. To be in Florence is to be on sensory overload, however, so it is impossible for me to describe all the walking and viewing I've done. I'm sure you're relieved. I'll describe some of the highlights, and then let you peruse pictures if you're interested.

The Duomo, the Cathedral and the Baptistry are probably the most well known sights in Florence (oh, except Michelangelo's David). The intricate artistry and marble opulence of the Cathedral, in particular, are beyond description – I'll never forget my first heart-stopping glimpse of the moonlit Cathedral when I first arrived in Florence on a trip years ago. I've included a few of my own pictures in the link below, but they don't do it justice. They don't distinguish the detailed carving or the variations in colors of marble.

It's possible to climb to the top of the Duomo but I decided instead to climb the Camponile (matching marble bell tower) that reaches nearly as high. Like St. Peter's dome in the Vatican, the climb involves many stairs in a narrow passageway, but this one was a little less claustrophobic. Also, I was lucky enough to make this climb early in the morning before it got crowded. I've included several photos of the spectacular views from the top.

The Piazzale Michelangelo sits high on a hill on the south side of the Arno, and has even better views of Florence than from the Camponile. I've included several photos from here as well. I had been to the Piazzale before, but had never bothered to explore behind it as I did today. Behind it sits the churches of St. Salvatore and of St. Miniato al Monte. The latter has even grander views, a beautiful interior, and a fascinating cemetery. I wandered the cemetery and came across the grave of Ferdinado Tirinnanzi, poeta, who lived from 1871 to 1940. I've never heard of him, and sadly, still know nothing since his google results are in Italian.

I did two of my recorded Florence walking tours, and they did not disappoint. These took me by many tiny churches, medieval towers, and edicoles* that I would otherwise have passed by.

I toured the churches of Santa Croce, Santo Spirito and San Lorenzo, the basilica of San Miniato al Monte and the Bargello museum. I walked the grounds of Palazzo Pitti, Palazzo Vecchio, the Mercato Nuovo (new market), the Mercato centrale (central market), and Piazzale Michelangelo. I saw Dante's house, Dante's church, and Michelangelo's childhood home. And I took a morning jog several miles alongside the Arno.

Today, I had lunch with Melinda Gallo, my brother's sister-in-law, who has lived and worked in Florence since 2004. We at at Mario, which was recommended by my hotelier. Visit Melinda's blog for a Florence insider's perspective!

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If you're wondering why I have not mentioned some of the other well known Florence sights (the Uffizzi, Palazzo Medici, Galleria Dell' Accademia where David is located), it's because I didn't visit them on this trip, having done so before.

I have worn myself out over the past week, so I am looking forward to some forced relaxation in Monterosso, in the lovely Cinque Terre region. I'm going there tomorrow by way of Pisa – I'm hoping to stop off and see the leaning tower. My next hotel is also supposed to have wi-fi, so if all systems are go – I'll catch up with you there!

Ciao! Click here for photos.

* an edicole (or aedicole) is a carving or mosaic or other piece of art set into the side of a building. They are put there in remembrance of somebody, or to atone for something one has done. I find them fascinating but until now, did not know how to spell it! I finally saw it written down in a guide book (the 'ae' spelling) so I was able to google to verify.

It's not a crack house, it's your hotel!

When you travel to historic cities, you have to remember that the buildings are not decades old, but centuries old, or more! And they look it. I have stayed in numerous places that are downright scary – if you saw them in a movie you'd start yelling at the screen: “Don't go in! Don't go in!” Rooms are usually tiny (especially the single rooms I book), and bathrooms are minuscule, having been retrofitted into structures that were built before the advent of indoor plumbing.

My current hotel's street entry is not the worst but still, it gave me pause (see photos). It features a steep concrete staircase that seemingly leads to nowhere. At the top of this staircase, I found a tiny elevator marked with the name of my hotel. The door opened and I stepped in – my suitcase and I barely fit. After the doors closed, nothing happened and I had a moment of panic thinking I was stuck in an elevator that didn't even have enough room for me to sit down. After a delay, however, it chugged up a floor and the doors opened to reveal a beautifully appointed lobby with the friendliest of reception guys.

He checked me in (taking my passport), and explained the many amenities of this hotel. Hands down, this is the best place I've stayed. There is breakfast provided each morning (which is fairly typical). But there is also a happy hour each evening during which wine and bruschetta are served. In addition to providing functional wi-fi, each room is outfitted with its own laptop (!!!), as well as a DVD player, flat screen TV, mini-bar fridge and bathroom. There is a collection of DVD movies (in various languages) and books in the lobby that one can simply borrow for the night. My room is small, but larger than many I've had and the bathroom is downright spacious in comparison to most.

At the happy hour last night, I met a Malaysian man who currently lives in Australia. He is on a solo vacation – his wife is at home tending to their two daughters who are in the throes of an active gymnastics competition season. Tonight, I shared my table with three Japanese ladies who have previously visited Naples and Rome. One of them knew just enough English that we could exchange some pleasantries.

As is often the case with single rooms, I have no view. In fact, my room in Rome had a window out to what looked like a filthy elevator shaft without the elevator. Here in Florence, I have a window that looks out on a 10x10 narrow courtyard so essentially, all I see are the windows of adjoining buildings. The plus side is that these interior rooms are extremely quiet, being away from the very busy street noise.

These photos show the highly recommended Hotel Davanzati, along with some miscellaneous street scenes.

Italiano Tipico

Today was a travel day and I had an enjoyable and uneventful train ride to Florence. I found my hotel easily enough (more on that in a future posting – this is a great hotel!) and after getting settled, took a walk to find lunch. Sightseeing in earnest will start tomorrow, so in the meantime, I thought I would amuse you fellow travelers with an accounting of some cultural peculiarities.

-Tabacchi shops are the convenience stores of Italy. As the name suggests, they sell tobacco products, but they also sell all manner of essentials including bus tickets, phone cards, lotto tickets, candy, lighters and postage stamps. You must buy your bus ticket at a Tabacchi – you can't buy one on the bus or pay cash.

-When paying for something at a tabacchi, gelato store or cafe, don't hand the money directly to the seller. Instead, place your money in the small tray or dish that sits adjacent to the cash register. The seller will pick it up from there and place your change in the same dish.

-Like Americans, Italians stop off for coffee on the way to work. However, you don't see anybody rushing around the streets holding paper Starbucks cups. Instead, Italians stop in at a cafe and stand at the counter where they quickly down an espresso or cappuccino (I'm not sure, but I think cappuccino, with all the milk, is only for us wimps). The price for your coffee drink is higher if you wish to sit and relax while drinking it. A standing cappuccino may cost 2.50 euro whereas a sitting one may cost 5-6.00 euro. Ask for your coffee 'to go' and you will receive an incredulous look.

-We Americans are used to – and expect - immediate attention from store clerks and other service providers. An Italian proprietor, however, will get to you in his own sweet time, and this often means he will finish up his phone conversation or magazine page before acknowledging you. While this may seem insulting at first, it is nothing personal and only indicates that everyone's time is equally valuable. Your best bet is to wait patiently until the person is ready to serve you; do this and you will be rewarded with courtesy, respect and efficiency.

-Televisions in Italy, and elsewhere in Europe, don't just turn off and on. They also have some sort of 'sleep mode' in which the set is powered on but the screen is dark. Activating a channel will bring it back to life. For some reason (perhaps user error), the TV always comes on back at channel one and you have to re-tune to whatever channel you wish to see.

-European bathrooms have no place to put or hang anything! There are generally no hooks or shelf space, and they mainly have pedestal type sinks with little room for more than a toothbrush. Likewise, there are no American style towel bars, although they all have a towel warmer. I don't use the warming feature since I'm here in summer months, and the design of these things makes it difficult to get your towel situated on it. Bathrooms also have bidets as standard equipment. My hotel bathroom here in Florence is the first I've seen without one, but there is a shower nozzle installed right next to the toilette as a substitute.

-When you check into a hotel, you must hand over your passport. Post 9/11, hotels and other businesses are required to keep careful records of visitors. Still, it is unnerving at some hotels because they keep your passport for 20 minutes or so while they do whatever with it. I also had to show my passport to be issued a user card at an internet cafe (!) and to purchase a cell phone sim card.

-There seems to be an inordinate number of underwear shops, and they are eye-catching on account of the rotating mannequins that display all angles of the underwear being sold. Thus, the prospective purchaser can imagine how the underwear might look on her from the back, although the mannequins reflect Italian fannies that are much trimmer than their American counterparts. Many storefront mannequins also provide a startling image of how one might look wearing the proffered clothes in cold weather without a bra.

-It's hard to imagine, I know, but Europeans are more addicted to cell phones than Americans are. Italians on their way to work rush down the streets with cellphones to their ears, despite the noisy traffic from scooters and buses. While we answer the phone with 'hello,' Italians answer by saying 'pronto.' Many people are also smoking – smoking seems to be more common and acceptable here than currently in the US (or maybe just California). Maybe that's why nobody gets coffee to go – between the phone and the cigarettes, there is no more carrying capacity.

Click here for photos depicting some of the above and more!

Wednesday: My feet might wear away too, like St. Peter's

Hello Fellow Travelers – I didn't have a firm sightseeing plan today, but I ended up seeing a lot. I started off quite early with a walk to the Spanish Steps, only to find that nothing was stirring. This was nice, in that I got to look over the area in its tourist-free state. But there was nothing to do, so after a short reconnaissance, I decided to take care of some logistics. I took the subway back to the Termini station and bought my train ticket to Florence for tomorrow.

Next, I walked back to my hotel and got myself situated with a “Walk and Talk Rome” tour that I had downloaded to my Ipod before leaving home. I had neglected to download the accompanying map (and could not find it on the internet this morning) so it took me awhile to figure out the starting point for the tour. I finally did however, and pointed myself in the right direction. On the way, I stopped by Capitol Hill which I had somehow missed after the Colosseum and Roman Forum on day one. This area brags a square and stairway designed by Michelangelo which I dutifully took in. The square is nice enough and I read about its significance as a Renaissance statement, but it is hard to see what the big deal is about the stairs. Anyway, after snapping more view photos of the Roman Forum from this vantage point, I made my way to the Ponte (bridge) Sisto where I fired up my Ipod and started the tour.

I discovered these walking tours on an earlier trip and I must say, I think they're pretty cool. The recorded tour provides step by step directions that take you through lesser known streets and piazzas. It has you stop at various landmarks and points out architectural and artistic elements you would otherwise not notice. This tour lasted about an hour and a half, and took me through the Campo de Fiori (open air market), Piazza del Biscione (where Caesar was killed; the senate was temporarily meeting here rather than at the Curia building at the Roman Forum), Via Guilia (a street with numerous remarkable palazzos) and Piazza Farnese where the impressive Palazzo Farnese is located. This is one of the largest palazzos in Rome and now houses the French Embassy.

After a cappuccino break, I walked to the Pantheon, a classically designed church with dome that survived the fall of Rome unscathed. The dome itself is concrete and oddly, looks likes something you might see in a modern U.S. Setting (if we had domes, that is). Like other Roman sights, the scale of the dome and the granite columns out front is enormous. Despite the large piazza, it's hard to get far enough away from the Pantheon to take a full front photo.

Post Pantheon, I trekked back to the Spanish steps. The place was now swarming with tourists. I ducked into a McDonalds to use the restroom and was overwhelmed by the crowd of (slim, for now) teenagers eating and flirting. It was mobbed, and I suddenly flashed on the 70,000 sweating Romans socializing at the Colosseum.

The Keats-Shelley house is at the foot of the Spanish steps, and I had hoped to tour this building. Both of the poets lived there, and Keats died there. The small building is a museum and according to my guide book and its own posted hours, should have been open. Alas, it was not and all I could get was a photo of the exterior. I also snapped one of a home across the street where Byron once lived and wrote – my photo shows a man on a cell phone going in the front door.

After a late lunch, I convinced my tired self to take a short visit to the National Museum, which houses far more exhibits than I could appreciate. I did see some amazing frescoes that had been preserved from the House of Livia, one of the structures that I trod past at Palatine Hill on day one. Done in, I returned to my hotel and prepared for my departure for Florence tomorrow.

Click here for today's selected photos!

Tuesday: Vatican City

Today was Vatican City day, and I took the subway to the vicinity, feeling clever at figuring out how to buy a ticket while also using up a ton of small denomination coins. Upon arrival, I was thankful to have made online reservations beforehand – there was already a huge line snaking around the walled-in Vatican. I bypassed this and walked right in with my printed voucher. I had also signed up for a guided tour of the gardens, and had only a short while to wait for it to begin.

In a major contrast to the streets of Rome, the Vatican displays a Disneyland-like attention to cleanliness. Although it is hard to imagine any visitor being crass enough to flick a cigarette butt on these grounds, the streets and pathways are clear of leaves and litter, and gardeners wielding Papal leaf blowers were in evidence throughout our tour. The Vatican City gardens are extensive, including naturally wooded areas as well as sections that are intricately designed and manicured. Buildings are scattered around in no discernible pattern, giving the effect of a small college campus. The entire grounds are tended by only 35 gardeners, and the master gardener lives in a charming home just behind the enormous dome of St. Peter's Basilica. Visitors must be part of a tour to wander the Vatican gardens. As far as I saw, there was only ours, so we encountered few other people during our relaxing two hour walk.

Carla, our guide, delivered numerous interesting factoids. She told us that the current Pope takes his exercise by walking the gardens for one and a half hours each day when he is in residence (he is not now). The gardens are closed to the public after 1pm, for this reason, and also because residents of Vatican city often say afternoon prayers in the many outdoor chapels. There are around 1000 people actually living on the grounds, and another 2500 come in each day to work. Carla felt very fortunate to have been hired as a Vatican guide; because the Vatican is its own country separate from Italy, her Vatican paycheck is not taxed! She took us by the papal helipad, pointed out some 900 year old olive trees, and showed us a building that houses Marconi's first radio (sadly, not viewable by the public). We also saw the current radio tower broadcasting KPOP, reportedly with a strong signal that often overtakes the frequencies of neighboring stations.

At the conclusion of our tour, I took a break in the coffee bar, and I'm happy to report that the Pope charges an entirely reasonable price for an exceptional cappuccino. Next, I walked the lengthy corridor of the Vatican museum which was jam packed with tourists all ignoring the art and heading, as I was, to the Sistine Chapel. This, too, was jammed, but I spent a fair amount of time in there getting dizzy from constant gazing at the ceiling. I had always imagined that the familiar Creation of Adam scene took up most of the ceiling, but this is not the case. It's got a prominent location near the middle, but it is only one of many, many scenes and is no larger than the others.

My next stop was St. Peter's Basilica which I had not realized is just enormous. It can hold 95,000 worshipers (remember: Arco Arena – 17,000 the Colosseum – 70,000). There is a statue of a seated St. Peter extending a toe to be kissed. Tourists were not doing this, but they were filing past and running their hands over his foot which has been smoothed out and seems likely to disappear eventually.

Having missed out on the Eiffel Tower in France (long story), I was determined to get to the top of St. Peter's Duomo (designed by Michelangelo but completed after his death). So I waited in line for 20 minutes to buy a ticket, and then waited further to board an elevator that took me to the base of the dome itself. From here I climbed 320 steps, spiraling up an extremely narrow passageway (attention Matt: you must include a Duomo stairway scene somewhere in your novel). Toward the top, the entire stairway leans inward and you have to contort your body to fit the curve of the dome. Eventually, I reached a landing on the interior of the dome, looking down on the inside of the Basilica where I had just been. I followed more winding stairs to the top, outdoor platform where the views of Rome and beyond are breathtaking.

I'll finish quickly by saying it was around 2pm before I left Vatican City and I was famished and exhausted. I found a quiet-ish cafe where I had pizza and rested my feet. I walked all the way back to my hotel, detouring to Piazza Navona and some window shopping. I bought a new tourista bag from a street vendor – I needed something a bit larger – and got back at around 4:30, showered and crashed for a short nap. Tomorrow's agenda: The Spanish Steps area, and back to Capitol Hill where I realize I missed some sights.

Of course, I took a zillion pictures – click here for a small selection.

Monday Sightseeing

I followed Rick Steves' recommendation today and started off at the Colosseum, a.k.a the Flavian Amphitheater, which held 50 – 70,000 sweating Romans (Arco Arena: 17,000). One can only imagine the stadium packed with people seated by class, heating up their bring-along food and watching all manner of grotesque and gruesome scenes on the arena level. The now-exposed underground passages housed animals and elaborate sets that were pulley-ed up to the arena level to stage elaborate scenes, typically ending in the savage death of humans or animals or both. Supposedly this counted as a fun family outing.

Next, I made my way up Palatine Hill. This is the area where many an emperor built his palace, affording great views of either the Colosseum or the Roman Forum or both. Today, it is a bewildering spread of ruins with little signage to help decipher what you're looking at. Consequently, everyone (including me) wanders around, consulting his guide book every 50 feet or so. I found the Palatine Museum, which houses an unexciting collection of detritus, as well as some rooms with intact frescoes, which I think was in Augustus's Palace. Palatine Hill overlooks the Roman Forum, the hotbed of ancient Roman politics and commerce. It, too, is in ruins, but one set of the enormous arches of the Basilica of Constantine still stand in an impressive display of excess.

I made my way down to the Forum and, nose still in guidebook, picked through the rubble. Some buildings are intact, but closed to the public, mainly for safety reasons I assume. Tourists are allowed in the reconstructed Curia, or Senate House, where elected senators debated and created laws. I got the willies picturing a toga-clad Harry Reid stumping for universal health care (the toga may not be historically correct!). I saw the remains of The House of the Vestal Virgins, where honored daughters of the nobility served 30 year terms unless they messed up, in which case they were buried alive. Those Romans had a real sense of humor.

I finally exited this area and walked up Via dei Fori Imperiali until I reached the Monument Victor Emanuele. Rick Steves is strangely silent about this huge statue-bedecked building, but I think it houses the current government offices. Across the street, protestors were camped out with a sign complaining to Berlusconi about something.

By this time, I was running out of steam, so I found a cafe and had lunch of parma ham, mozzarella cheese and beer. Thus rejuvenated, I made my way back to the Trevi fountain and the internet cafe I had found the night before. I put in some time there before returning to my hotel, where I crashed for an hour or so. I decided to have another go at finding a sim card for my cell phone (I had scouted out places - all of which were closed - on my way to the Colosseum), so I went back to a shop near the train station that looked promising. The propierter was closing up, but after a pitiful 'per favore' from me, he let me in and hooked me up with a WIND sim card. This worked like a charm (yes, At&t readers, my phone is unlocked, don't ask!), and I was able to call home.

That's it for today, fellow travelers. Tomorrow: the Vatican!

Catching Up

Things are looking up fellow travelers. The hotel wi-fi is up and I bought a SIM card for my phone which I will test drive shortly. Here is my post, written in the wee hours this morning:

My trip halfway across the world went pretty smoothly, but I'll share some details nonetheless. I can see this will be a too-long post as it is, so I'll start after I transferred airlines at JKF airport in New York, itself, a rather hair-raising experience. We pick up when I boarded my Alitalia flight . . .

The seat assignment on my boarding pass bore no resemblance to the seat I had carefully reserved by phone the other day. It was a window rather than the aisle I preferred, but that was OK. For me, it's a toss-up as to which is better on a long distance flight. On the aisle, you can get up whenever you want, but you are plagued by people brushing past you all the time, and you've got to stand whenever the middle and window seat people want to get out.

I settled into my window seat happily enough, only to discover that half my underseat storage space was taken up by a metal box affixed to the interior wall of the plane. How dare they take up some of my precious allotted space with what, some pesky airplane hardware? Sighing, I crammed my backpack down there, taking up half of the middle seat's underseat space as well. I sat there fretting, hoping I would not end up with a seatmate who objected. A few minutes later, I was joined by an Italian mom and daughter. The daughter, probably early teens, took the middle space. Luckily, she didn't have anything to stow, so she didn't seem to mind my bag. However, she instantly lowered her foot rest, effectively caging my bag in and making it largely inaccessible. Oh no! All my backup entertainment was in there! I stewed further. Meanwhile, the safety video came on. It alternated giving the information in Italian and then in English, and I noticed that the Italian versions lasted about twice as long as the English translations. I couldn't help but wonder if the Italians were getting critical information that the rest of us weren't (“there is only enough oxygen for half the passengers, so be sure to press the secret button on your arm rest”).

All in all, however, the flight went well. The daughter curled her legs up and fell asleep and I was able to wrestle my bag out and dig through it. I fell asleep for, I think, 2 ｽ hours, and I watched a movie on my iPod, so the time managed to pass. Upon arrival, I found the right baggage claim and my bag came around within a few minutes. Then it was a long trek again on a circuitous route to find another train platform. Here, I found a long line to buy tickets, but there was a self service kiosk and I watched over someone's shoulder for awhile to figure how it worked. Still, when it was my turn, it took me several tries before I successfully bought a ticket to Roma Termini, the main transportation hub in the city.

There was more confusion figuring out which train to get on. This I shared with a Jamaican guy from London who was also mystified. We made our best guess and got on together, figuring if it was wrong, we could join forces to backtrack. It turns out we had guessed correctly and 30 minutes later, we got off the train at the busy Rome station and went our separate ways. More confusion ensued while I tried to figure out which direction to walk but I finally worked this out. My hotel is only about a quarter mile from the station, so I walked there easily enough, got checked in and took a much needed shower.

It was then I discovered that I was having a total electronics meltdown. My cell phone is not connecting to any network here (I have traveled internationally with this phone before with no problem) so I could not call home to report my safe arrival. No, problem, I'll fire up my netbook and send an email, but guess what, the much-touted hotel wifi is down with a repair date unknown. The office guy let me use his computer (somehow the office still has connectivity but the guests don't) to send a message home. I'm thinking the cell phone situation may be hopeless – I can only guess that they switched off my international roaming permissions without telling me. To get this changed, I would have to go through employee channels which are unfriendly enough when you try and do it from home. From afar, I can't log on to the company network from this computer, and I can't call on my non-functioning phone. My current plan is to buy a sim card from another carrier to use for the duration of my trip. Sorry AT&T, but you left me high and dry!

After all that, I got settled in my room and then went out to get the lay of the land. I charted a walk that looped me around some main streets and returned me to the hotel. I detoured to the Trevi Fountain which was mobbed, but I found a bookstore with English language books and – oh happy day – an internet cafe. If the hotel wifi situation isn't fixed, at least I've got a backup. Near the end of my walk, I found a non-intimidating restaurant and had a lovely meal of bruschetta, salad and vino rosso.

I was operating on close to no sleep, so I got back to my hotel and fell asleep in short order (about 6pm local time), waking up a few times during the night. I woke up for good about about 4am local, so here I sit, writing this post while watching international CNN.

These photos are of my room and surroundings. Stay tuned for a sightseeing update soon.

Electronics Meltdown

Hello Fellow Travelers. I am here in Rome, safe and sound, and I even wrote a lengthy blog post last night. However, I've had an electronics meltdown. My cell phone gets no service (thank you AT&T) and the hotel's wi-fi is down. I am right now at an internet cafe, which has all sorts of voodoo set up on its computer and I cannot upload the blog post I saved to my memory stick last night. Sigh.

I hope to iron out all these issues in the next day or so and then I will catch you up on my flight out here and my morning of sightseeing today. But for now, all is well (except for all the devices). Ciao!

Bye Bye P.S.I.

Those of you following this from work know what I'm referring to. PSI is a big-deal project I've been heavily involved with for months, and it stands for Process and Standards Integration. It's a critical (critical!) project in which we're "providing tools with which to maintain end-to-end throughput of build programs, aligning processes to the new organization structure and identifying synergy opportunities. " Say what!? Well, please just trust me on this, it's, you know, really important! Luckily, the project is winding down so I can go on vacation with few work worries, knowing that our throughput, alignment and synergies are well under control.

In addition to not thinking about PSI, here are a few other things I won't be doing in the coming weeks: I won't attend any lockdowns. I won't onboard any resources. I won't incentivize anybody. I won't draw a roadmap or follow a playbook. I won't respond to someone else's ask. I won't talk to the RSLs or update STAR. Nor will I submit a PAT, follow the PLP, log onto the BPM, or participate in UAT.

I won't do any of these things because I'll be triple O on PTO. See you in Rome!

Joni and Me

Years ago when I first contemplated traveling to Europe, I realized after awhile that there was a soundtrack playing in my brain and it was Joni Mitchell, singing “Free Man in Paris.” Now, I like Joni Mitchell plenty, but I'm not a devoted fan, so I thought it curious that this song would surface from the depths of my subconscious. But I did picture myself wandering foreign streets “unfettered and alive,” having left behind work and bills and any other commitments.

And truthfully, that's the way it was on that first trip. I was so absorbed with the history and otherness surrounding me (not to mention all the logistical details), that I quite forgot about anything I was supposed to be fretting about at home. One morning, I found myself in a Starbucks in, I think, Edinburgh. (Whatever you think of Starbucks, it was a familiar and welcome refuge all over Great Britain). As I sat there nursing my latte, suddenly, there was Joni singing our song over the PA system. I just sat their grinning and giddy, staring out the window feeling completely and happily anonymous. As Joni implies, this unfettered-ness is seductive. It is also quite the selfish experience, and I feel fortunate, and a little bit guilty, about indulging in it again.

Anyway, as my departure approaches, I've been hearing Joni again and she gets louder each day.

The Practiced Traveler

I know that travel tips have been done to death, but I can't resist sharing a few of my own. I promise things will get more interesting once I actually get there!

- When packing, dump all of your underwear and socks in one of those travel roll up space bags or an oversized Ziploc. Squeeze the air out and then you can cram this in your suitcase wherever it fits, because who cares if your underwear is wrinkled? Then, bring a second space/Ziploc bag to hold your dirty clothes as they accumulate. Again, this can be squeezed and crammed. A side benefit to this method is that your underwear won't spill out everywhere when the TSA opens your luggage to inspect it.

- It's kind of embarrassing to fumble around with foreign money, trying to distinguish the unfamiliar coins while you're holding up the gelato line. This time, I'm bringing a little double-wide change purse so I can separate the two- and one-euro coins from all the smaller denominations.

- Stuff a bunch of energy bars in your carry-on. That way, you're not beholden to the airline food cart. I actually stash a bunch in my suitcase too (or buy some when I get there) so I can carry a few around while sightseeing. As a solo traveler, I like to have the option of scarfing one of these instead of sitting down to a meal all by my lonesome.

- Speaking of that: for many, food and restaurant experiences are half (or more) of the fun of travel. I'm totally on board with that, but as a solo traveler, I'm plenty intimidated about having a fancy meal by myself in a fancy restaurant. After all, whose eyes am I going to gaze into from across the candlelit table? I tend to favor informal cafes, but even so, it's rather awkward to sit there alone, and there are only so many times you can read the brochure from that last museum you visited. The answer? Carry a small notebook and pen with you. Sitting at a cafe sipping your limonata or vino is the perfect time to jot down notes on what you've seen and what you want to remember. And if you're bent over your notebook, nobody can see the big L plastered across your forehead.

-Bring a small length of cable, looped at each end (you can make this yourself using items from the hardware store), and a padlock . Use this to lock your bag or backpack to something if need be (I once stayed in a hostel where the sleeping was dormitory style, so I secured my bag to the bed when I went out sightseeing).

- Better yet: don't stay at a hostel. OK, I take that back. My hostel experience was pretty dismal, but I understand that these days, many hostels are being re-vamped and can offer the solo or family traveler a great experience. But do your due diligence before committing to a hostel stay!

- Stow a toothbrush, pair of underwear and other essentials in your carry-on . Last time I traveled to Europe, my checked luggage and I did not arrive simultaneously. Although I was able to shower at my hotel, I had no clean clothes and believe me, it's no fun wearing the same clothes you've had on for 15 hours of airplane travel.

- If you're taking the train or other public transportation from town to town, go online ahead of time and get a clue about the schedules and how to buy tickets. Everybody at a train station is in a hurry and there isn't anybody around to hold your hand. Plus, if you look lost and discombobulated, you're an easier target for pickpockets and scammers.

- I was shocked to discover that the airlines do not give you any extra room for long distance flights. Really, it's inhuman. Unless you're lounging around in first class, there is little maneuvering space. Thus, cargo style pants are great for the airplane. They have lots of pockets to stash your passport, your Nano, your boarding pass, a little cash and an energy bar. That way, you don't have to keep rummaging around in your carry on.

- If you're a woman traveling alone and you're going to Great Britain and Ireland, the May / June time-frame is ideal. It stays light until ~10:00 pm, so you can go out to a pub or play and not feel too weird about walking back to your hotel.

This is not your country

One of the intriguing aspects of traveling to a different country is that everything seems novel. Scenes that you wouldn't think twice about in your own country, are somehow poignant and magical elsewhere. This idea is captured in a poem by Stephen Dunn I recently discovered.

The effect is magnified outside of the US, where thousands of years of history has become incorporated into modern life. Structures built before there was electricity now house businesses dependent on computers and satellites. And streets teeming with modern commerce are decorated with sculpture and architecture from a distant past. This photo collage shows just a few examples from prior travels.

La lingua italiana

I'm leaving for Rome in two weeks so today, I decided it would be prudent to learn Italian. Yes, I realize this is like starting a flossing routine on the day before going to the dentist; nobody will be fooled. But I should clarify that I'm not starting entirely from scratch. Before my last trip, I purchased the Rosetta Stone language learning software and I made a pretty decent go of working through the lessons. They did prove helpful and upon my return I vowed to continue, figuring that by now, I'd be prepared to engage in witty repartee with the locals while sipping my morning espresso. Sadly, my Rosetta Stone CDs are buried at the bottom of my 'to do' pile.

Nonetheless, I gamely downloaded “Fodor's Italian for Travelers,” and fired it up on my iPod during my morning run. Things started out easily enough with simple words and phrases I actually remembered from before. But the lesson quickly moved into phrases that conjure up travel scenarios I'd prefer not to contemplate. These include “my room key doesn't work,” “please return my passport” and “where is the lost luggage counter?” (This last contains a word that sounds suspiciously like 'jettison'). What's worse, these phrases seem unduly complicated. So, I'm skipping over them on the theory that if I don't know them, I won't need them. Besides, even if I master them now, I'm pretty sure they would be obliterated by my rising panic over being locked out of my room with no clothes and no identification.

Thankfully, other critical phrases are straightforward, such as “Where is an ATM?" (Dove e un bancomat?) and “I would like ice cream” (Vorrei gelato). And I've worked this one out all on my own: Vorrei il vino rosso per favore. Salut!

Ciao Meow

Italy is known for the sophistication of its fashion and food, but nothing is more discriminating than the Italian feline. On my last trip, I encountered them everywhere, claiming their rightful place among tourists and locals alike. Though some were homeless, none were wanting, being well tended by shopkeepers, trattorias and one kindly old man. Click here to see i gatti.

Shoes Blues

When I travel I do a ton of walking. I typically find lodging in the city center, and walk from sight to sight as much as I reasonably can. This comes from my stubborn need to feel independent, as well as to avoid the humiliation of fumbling through an unfamiliar transportation system. But walking is also the best way to get a real flavor for the varying neighborhoods in a city and, of course, provides plenty of exercise while I'm off my regular running routine.

This means footwear is a big deal and sure enough, having a good shoe strategy is high on my packing priority list. Thus, I was tickled to see a recent article by the New York Times frugal traveler on just this topic

Alas, while reading his otherwise sensible article, I noted that Mr. Gross missed the female perspective here, by give short shrift to the cute factor. Any shoe that meets his criteria of being rugged, waterproof and good for running, will surely fall short of one of mine which is: girly enough to go with my cute dinner dress.

Sadly, my own shoe strategy also falls short. On trips past, I have mainly worn clodhopper sandals with good arch support; shoes that can most kindly be described as 'serviceable.' Last time, I uselessly toted around a pair of cute slip-on sandals that nearly amputated my baby toes on the one occasion I hobbled to dinner wearing them.

This time, my plan is to bring one pair semi-clodhopper sandals, one pair full-foot flats and, because I am psychologically unable to part with them, my running shoes.

Yes, I know, three pairs of shoes is ridiculous. But I rationalize by saying I'll be wearing one of them, so that means I'm only packing two pairs, right? And besides, as most any woman will tell you, it is impossible for the female traveler to go on a trip of any length with only one pair of shoes.

Blah blah blog

Ok, this blogging thing is a bit tougher than I expected. After all, it's one thing to blast an email out to your buddies full of blurbs about your daily trials and triumphs. Your friends care, or at least pretend to, and even a brief you go girl reply completes a comforting circuit of validation.


But it's quite another thing to lay your words out there for any passer by to see. In fact, it's kind of creepy to think of unknown, lurking eyes with nary an LOL to tip you off to their presence. Blogging, it turns out, amounts to a kind of self-imposed stalking.


Also, what seemed before to be fleeting, now takes on a perverse permanence. Your posts become fixed in some mysterious binary-pixelated continuum, perhaps to be electronically excavated and puzzled over years from now.


Thus, I proceed with apprehension, wondering if those lurking eyes are rolling skyward.