Blog 125

125 Blog

I am curently re-publishing my first book, HILLSIDE HOMES, ans since I donn't have time for a blog, I am sending out a journal of one of nmy trips to France & Italy with a bit of my seconf visit to Greece. I Hope you have to to read it during this time of FLUE. AMSTERDAM, Aug, 1996 Every five years or so, the Blog Company changes the Dashboard and I have to rtry to catch up. This is very hard for me , beng of an ancient age, but I enjoy it too much to quit. In oher words, Bear wirh me there are double photos, no titles on photos, etc.

Arrived at Schiphol Airport, One of the best!, Caught a double deck train into Amsterdam, then tram to hotel from the main Station. I don't think we ever took a taxi here as the trams are soo good. These are very narrow, articulated cars as they have to negotiate around small one-way track (I mean one track) streets and over canal bridge humps. They've solved the "Screw up your environment" advertizing by using the entire tram as a sign. These are very creatively designed and painted (or however they do it). For some reason, this leaves all the taxis (Mercedes Benz) without the usual crapola all over them. This applies to most all European countries. The blue boxes tell you the second the tram is supposed to be there. Took in a Improv Show by an American group called "Boom Chicago" just across the canal from our third floor walk-up hotel. The M.C. suggested we all go outside during intermission and smoke a joint in front of the police station next door. Naturally all the tourists had to do it so they could write home and tell the folks that "The War on Drugs" was not really necessary. We were lucky enough to see the two guys (Peale & Keele) before they became super-stars in US. Our quaint hotel room was reached by essentially a ships ladder. (Steep) .Hotel D'Lanterne probably built originally as apartments in late 1800's on a canal in the theatre district. Dutch food is kind of non-existent but there are plenty of French & Pizza places as well as MacDonalds to survive on. Stumbled across a "Coffee House" (Ha Ha) called "Rookies" near our hotel. It's a small place with about six tables, 8 bar stools and a pool table. Asked for the dope menu and the young bartender gave us a small plastic stand-up menu listing four or five of the current pot for sale. We purchased 1.8 gram of "Rookie Skunk" and proceeded to roll a joint with some papers he presented in a small glass. The bartender watched us with wide eyes as Joy rolled up a bomber using most of the purchase. He had to ask us if we had ever done this before and we informed him “we were old hands at this kind of stuff”. Well, it wasn't long before we were working our way through this joint that we became so stoned we couldn't move . I was hoping it wouldn't get any worse and bye and bye I was able to move off the stool (In lieu of falling off) and matriculate to the outside world. However, before we left I did an impromptu wooden shoe dance on the bar with tiny little wooden shoes on two fingers a la Charlie Chaplin, much to the amusement of the crowd. We never did get through the whole joint in three days so gave the roach to the bartender who promised to finish it off when we left as at that time the borders to France were not as open as they are now..

Next day we rented a Hertz Nissan and were encouraged to seek the Ring Road freeway on our way to Rotterdam. Arriving in Skiedam, we didn't have a map of the town so parked and asked a couple of young blond and lovely Police Girls on bicycles for directions. After presenting ourselves at the Nolet Spirits Distillery we were given a tour of the place that was founded in 1691 by Paul Nolet's forefathers. He is the tenth generation of the family. I had been architect of their North American headqurters in Reno, Nevada. This (Skiedam) is where the famous Ketel One Vodka is made and we actually saw "Ketel One" the original copper kettle, although it has to be rebuilt every hundred years or so. There is also a Ketel 2 and two newer ones. They started making Genever along with about 300 other distilleries here but now there are only five left. Genever is a herbed drink that most Dutch prefer, mostly gin, They supplied spirits to the Russian Imperial Court but they wanted all the herbs taken out and that gives you Vodka. The Brits copied it but added a lot of juniper berries to end up with Gin. Later I had to have a cold glass of Genever at the Hotel American , a wonderful yellow brick edifice by the architect designed by K. Bakker in 1928 and it was a real treat. Contrary to popular opinion, the youths of the world have not stormed the gate to get stoned. Mostly, these places are nearly empty, except for the young Americans finally experiencing moral freedom. Photo of Fountaine bleau FOUNTAINBLEAU Finally the coffee and croisants I have been remembering. Sooooo Good. Off on a day trip to Fountainbleau, nice little weekend hunting lodge for about 1,000 of the kings closest friends and also the large old buildings that Gurdjieff had his school in. PARIS. On Montmarte, we found a wash & dry to do our weekly laundry, except it was down 132 steps and the same back up, Joy crabbing all the way. The washing machines had a minimum time of one hour, so we spent the time across the street in a café with a beer. A curious thing about money, how did the U.S. start it's money and how did they pay the revolutionary troops and suppliers? Back at our hotel I tried to find Reims (Pronounced Rhon) on the map and confusing it with Roeun, pronunciation is the key here, also the spelling. We went thru that screw up again in the AM at the Gare. I think I got it now. Took a day trip to (Rhon) but nearly missed it as the conductor pronounced it so different. Visited a couple of famous wine caves (Piper-Heidsick), tasted champagne, had a great lunch at Le Vigneron restuarant; Chicken w/ mushroom/tomatoes Salad: Egg w/ mixed greens/bacon bits Dessert: Bowl of strawberries, raspberries, blueberries w/ puree/sugar sauce Wine: Wine list from 1892 vintages Ours: Rene Coutier, Ambonnay Rouge ‘92 Pouring rain on & off. Took taxi to the great cathedral, then across the street to a bar for a glass of house champagne. When we got back to Montmarte of course we headed for the bar, and laundry, Photo od cave down 132 steps, back up 132 steps, Joy crabbing all the way. I wanted to see even a bigger chateau than FountainBlue - Versailles, not nearly as nice but a lot bigger. We had a nice lunch on the grounds in an outdoor café on the huge pond where the kings had naval battles, really! On our way back to hotel, we stocked up on wine, fruit, cheese & bread for next days train trip to Bordeaux.

BORDEAUX Listened to a young man playing jazz tenor sax on the huge fountain in the nearby park. He had a funky ax but he was very good! Do all French towns have a two story carousel? (Answer; yes). This is the heart of the wine country but everybody seems to drink beer, but is all made in Belgium? Well, I can understand as it’s really hot here. There’s a saying , even in Northern California; “It takes a lot of beer to make good wine”. Lots of mixed couples in France: black, Asian, etc. We’re having a hard time figuring out payment on the bus system here. Most people don’t seem to have tickets except us. We stick it in a little box that clicks and dates it. Seems strange to see a surfboard inside the bus. Lots of dogs; on the bus, trains, restaurants (Sitting at the table!), They take them on holidays. Waiter at La Flotilla (Palace) wouldn’t give me a menu until I said “Sils vous plait” (Thanks). I’m a freak of sorts here with my beard. Are there no old people here? Most stores close from 11:30 to 1400. Everyone takes two hour lunches? The green men (Always in green overalls) are still at it except they’ve got a new little squirter that cleans the walks of all the little dog shit. Living in France would be OK if we could read the signs. McDonalds everywhere, some two story. Huge parks with lots of trees lined up but no grass, just dirt or decomposed granite. In America there are 50 ways to leave your lover, but here there are 50 ways to flush a toilet. You must look all around carefully before you pull, push, pull a chain, push on the wall and many other ingenious ways to flush, none you’ve ever seen before. The French waiters are always reluctant to give you the “addition” or bill. You have to get creative to get their attention to bring it. Got our rental car for a drive thru premium wine country, first trying to maneuver onto the ring road that encircles the city. It’s a really efficient idea, just have to remember to get directions for return. Chateau Arsac was a really beautiful and very modern winery inside an old chateau. They had two wines to taste in the tasting room, so we bought two. I had to get over to Pulliac, ever since I read Ambrose Bierces’ little story about the dying oenephile.* (It goes like this; A gentleman had been hit by a tram, was lying on the street while a crowd gathered around him Someone gave him a bit of wine as sustinance, whereupon he muttered with his last breath “Ah, Pulliac, 1927"). We stopped at a small riverside café for lunch on our way to Pulliac and I ordered a crab once we deciphered the menu. I probably made a fool of myself because I could hardly find any meat on the crab, even after dismembering and disembowling it. What a mess.

Next day caught a little, two car train (Diesel) to St. Emilion for some wine tasting. On our train were some southerners (I thought they were Brit ex-pats) but Joy said The South. The station at St. Emilion isn’t anymore, just a ghost station with no directions so off we go to the road, the sign says St. Emilion. No tram, no taxis, no phone, just your feet to get up the hill to maybe a town. Odd. It turns out to be a really nice, old town with lots of tasting rooms so we went to one , where we found a young man studying English and looking for a sponsor in the Napa valley for Dec. 1997. His family is from Spain and have a vineyard here in St. Em. We gave him our card after ordering $100 worth of wine (6 bottles) to be sent home to share with our my wine tasting friends. (Turned out later their customs wouldn’t let it thru so we got our credit back) We never did hear from him later, which was too bad. Back in Bordeaux I feel like partying our last nite here so we stopped at a piano bar (No piano inside) that has the Bettington Horse Trotters race on TV. The French are not interested in a horse that is not connected to a set of wheels, One of the fellows in the bar owns the winner of the race - lots of screaming and yelling. The bartender(ess) is very interested in Joy’s brown cigarettes so I gave her one to try. We watched her prance around proudly smoking her More. We move on and found a small café across the boulevard and listened to good jazz for a few hours. The bar top was only 12" wide and made of zinc and all battered up from many years of service. The group had a kid 9 years old blowing fluegelhorn and he was impressive. The owner is a handsome dude in jeans & white shirt, 55 or so, blue eyes & graying hair. Finally someone Joy can feast her eyes on (I’m going blind ogling all the mini skirts). Old Blue Eyes doesn’t speak much English so he has the bartender(ess) come out to talk to us. Dining is al fresco in the balmy evenings. Great meal. We move inside to stand at the zinc bar and had a great time talking to the bartender, who was buying us a drink now & then. She was enjoying talking in English with us as she studies 3 other languages. After a few hours & more drinks I tell Joy that I love her. Well, she knows what that means, I’m getting blasted drinking J&B scotch. I think I was given a “Micky Finn” as I got so plastered that Joy nearly had to carry me home, which fortnately was only across the narrow park.. She shoved me in the shower, clothes and all, but all that did was get my clothes clean. On to CARCASSONNE and a CARNAC We stopped at Carnac, an area that was over run by the Etruscans and they set up many mono-liths around the southern part of France. They still use both languages here, French and whatever the Welch speak nowdays.

We came across an old Fort that is now a Museum of old times when the town was mostly related to ship building and going and coming to the ORIENT, Thus the name changed to L’Orient , France. This went on from bout 1500’s. At the museum we saw some incredible models of how the ships were built and also Cross sections of ships (models) showing how everything was stowed for the trips of 2 to 3 months to China, one way. There is an iron anchor there and and I always wonder how they cast such a huge thing in those days. One of the models shows the activity of the personnel during the Many months at sea.

Just when you think you have figured out the easy ways to and from le gare in a taxi you get to Carcassonne. Since cars aren’t allowed within the old city walls, we are dumped off at the drawbridge, and drag our bags up hills over cobblestones to find our hotel. Nice modern insides worked from a 12th century abbey. There are only three hotels inside the old walls and we’re in one of them. We really enjoyed strolling around the place and finding little outdoor cafes and such. Found a restaurant that served Coq au vin, not easy to find, as it is considered a lowly peasant dish. It was very tasty, but a lot of work getting the meat off the odd cuts of chicken. It could have used more mushrooms & onions. However, not to complain as it was one of the best meals we had so far.

Photo of Barcalena BARCELONA, SPAIN Our train stopped at the Spanish/French border to change trains as the gauge is different in Spain. Here, however, the cars are ancient, uncomfortable and no A/C and it’s hot. Oh, yeah, this is going to be fun. First thing upon getting our room is a cool shower & do some laundry in our room, then out for beers. We stopped at a sidewalk café nearby called Kina-Kanya and the waiter brings out huge white mugs full of beer. Now the white foam in the white mug was level with the rim. The handle was symmetrical so I assumed the waiter had put it down upside down and would bring the beer out in a bottle. So I quickly turned the mug over and spilled all the cool beer all over me! Everyone was pretty surprised at this behavior and I finally convinced the waiter to bring me another. Well, Luckily we were on our way back to hotel so Joy didn’t have to walk far with Mr. Wet beer pants. I guess Joy’ll be able to use this and the night at the Jazz place in Bordeaux and the two times I turned a wine bottle over to look at the bottom while it still had wine in it. She had extra laundry to do that night. The closest early breakfast place was a Dunkin’ Donuts place just down the street for breakfast & coffee, which I brought to Joy at the hotel. Caught the Metro to the old town and the great pedestrian street ,”The Ramblas”. There is a huge permanent Farmer’s Market in a cavernous shed along tha way That eve we took a funicular up to an old castle. Joy’s fingerprints are still embedded in the steel bar she was grasping on the gondola. P

hoto of Park Guell Went to see Gaudi’s Parc Guell. This guy must have found LSD before it was invented. Fabulous! Unbelievable structurial gyrations! On Metro to Familia Sagrada. Wow! What a Kodak moment that is. But wait, you’re traveling with JL2, let’s break the camera by holding onto the telephoto lense. This is cameras’ interuptus. Well, I wanted to do some sketching anyway. Back to hotel for a shower and a Ready Teller then to nearby Qu-Qu’s for Sangria. We were going to see some Flamenco tonight but they don’t start ‘till midnight. Way past our beddy by time.

Hoto of Sagrada They’re still building the Sagrada Familia, are they really serious that they might finish the immense concept of Gaudi? It’s probably 1/4 done! He died in 1929. Will there be enough Catholics left to finish it in another hundred years or so? Maybe they should hire Oral Roberts or Billy Graham to finish it. After finding a photo store and buying a new battery, viola!, camera works again. Remember, this was before cellphones. Catalans are so handsome! They speak Spanish here, not Mexican. The grafitti is very good, not based on German script. (Mexicans speak Mexican, not Spanish, there’s a big difference, ( also Germany ruled Mexico for a while, ergo the German lettering of Grafitti). Photo of Meis Pavilion

Visited Meis’s Barcelona Pavilion that he designed in 1929 and was recently restored. What an incredible building!. Less is truly more. This was built a year before I was born! This place (Barcelona) was founded by Hannibal’s dad, Barca, about 2,200 years ago. It means ‘ Barca’s Camp’. Taxi drivers and waiters are respectful. Taxis are not uglied up by cheap adds stuck all over them. Same for buses & Metros. Most are Mercedes Benz. We’re speaking a kind of Esperanto at this point as we don’t have a Spanish phrase book, although I speaka-da-tongue a bit. There are no digital watches here in Europe, I’ve got the only one. Same for beards. But they make up for it with short skirts, belly buttons, stylish, classy. Metro stations play classical music, as well as on trains. Boulevards are wide with dividers, sidewalks are 40' wide of embossed tiles, blue. Only saw three black people in four days. Didn’t the Moors own this for 500 years? They must have really been thrown out along with the Jews. People still know how to read here. All over , the Metro, cafes, etc, (Even at home?). Stopped at a nearby sidewalk café for a pitcher of Sangria, the perfect drink for a hot day. It was so good we ordered another, we got so bombed we fortunately were close to our hotel. Went back the next day to see what they put in “Sangria”. QU-QU’S SANGRIA Gin+brandy+Cuantro+Rum++wine+Orange Fanta+Lemon Fanta All the cars are new, all the women are good looking, and there are no children. Photo of Frexinet

Joy had to see Friexenet champagne works near here so we hopped a local train. The winery is right near the train stop so we walked over to the entrance, but it is closed. We can hear the bottles clanking and see the crusher going, but no, today is a special festival , but will be open next day. We walk a couple of blocks to the little town to get some sustenance as it’s about noon. We are in a ghost town as there is no one here, no shops, or cafes open. The town is empty. Nothing to do but back to the station, further on is Torres Winery, the same family in Graton. It is in the center of this town, right across from the tracks. We find the office and it’s open and they give us a map showing the real winery about 4 kilometers from town. If we can get there we could get a tour of the winery. But, it’s noon now and they are closed until 3PM. But we called and they said they would be open from 9 til 5! OK, fuck this shit!, Joy’ll just switch to Korbel & boycott Torres Champane when we get home. Hit the train for a one hour ride back to Barcelona, where we have a late lunch at Qu-Qu. P

hoto of Sagrada Armed with a working camera we strolled up the street a couple of blocks to see three of Gaudis’ great apartment buildings. One of them offers tours M-F, but wait, no more tours on Mondays. We’re wearing thin now so we’ll just settle for photos. But wait, I didn’t have an extra film in my bag. OK Fine. We’ll just have a bite, and go see Flamenco tonight. But wait. No Flamenco on Mondays. Let’s get out of this place! We could have taken “A guided tour of the sewage treatment plants” by King Crapper, but mavbe next time, eh? Our friend had his acmera stolen onrthe Metro. He lost about 700 photos and I told him to use different cards for the camera that only hold about 100 photos. That way, you only lose 600 photos each time your camera is stolen, and it will happen again. Photot of

MARSEILLE Long delay at the border as train is having trouble. On the way there are huge lagoons full of pink flamingos between Narbonne and Monpellier. Joy wants to take some home. Took a taxi from Marsielle Gare and imagine our surprise when we see our favorite Hotel La Residence covered in fabric scaffolding. We tried to find another hotel on the Old Port but it turns out this is the only one (For less than $300 / nite) so we decided to stay. We had reserved a room on the top (7th) floor but found a temporary sign was completely obscuring our view, so perhaps a room on a lower floor? Well, they haven’t been refurbished yet and after Spain we wanted a nice room so we stay put as it also has a bidet for Joy.

After a day checking out the problem I jumped over the edge onto the scaffolding and untied the sign, sliding it back far enough for us to see the great view. For our first evening back we decided on Brasserie New York for a nice dinner. Here we go again with the French food ordeal. To make a long story short, nothing came to us that we expected but cost a lot more than expected. Next day we searched out an Italian Trattoria we remembered from last time across the Old Port. It was still there, had great spaghetti & pizza dishes. This would be our eating place for the next three days. As an added attraction, had a cute waiter that Joy drooled over as he had a pony tail, blonde, goatee & dimples and looked like Roy Boy, whoever that is. (That would be Coco Chanel’s lover).

Went to the gare to reserve our night train tickets to Venice. Took a train to Aix en Provence, another old Roman camp for retired soldiers of Ceasars. This has a great Old Town with a lot of Gucci type shops, Joy got her soaps and crazy clothes pins, then back to hotel and Italian dinner. Next day was windy, cold, and some scuba divers were in the water searching for what? We got a boat to Chateau D’If (Where Dumas’ Count of Monte Christo was imprisoned). But kind of understood they only went to one island that day, we don’t know what that means. Well, what it meant was pretty apparent when we got outside the breakwater and started wallowing around in huge waves and couldn’t tie up at Chateau D’If. Joy was holding onto a stanchion and wouldn’t let got for love or money to get inside the boat. She was terrified and too scared to even think about being sick and she doesn’t even swim well, as if that would help if we sank. Her fingerprints are also embedded on that post. We ended up on a little island with an ancient Greek temple and a very cool modern mixed use project, condos I guessed. Finally on the quay, the wind howling, all she wants to do is get a couple of beers and get on the next boat home. I try to point out that if we waited the wind may go down. Try logic with someone in a catatonic state. She was better on the way back as she knew what was in store for us. We knew why they didn’t stop at C. D’If as the boat would have been pounded to bits alongside the rocks and no one would have survived. Finally back on land but she is feeling queasy and needs a nap while I take in the great museum of the city’s history. There are remnants of the old Roman road on the grounds with the ruts from chariots still there, ground into the stone. We would like to have lunch but of course all cafes are closed until tonight. Joy is out on the balcony with her binoculars trying to find signs of life at the Trattoria across the Old Port. Next day we train to Nice. As it doesn’t leave till noon we have plenty of time. As we’re passing time reading on our deck we begin to hear loud noises and clapping on the streets below. Looking over the balcony railing we see thousands of people covering the streets, barricades to keep them at bay and hordes of police with riot gear. How in hell are we going to get a taxi with the whole street full of strikers? Better roll, now. As we pay our bill we’re informed that a young French boy was shot and killed by an Arab on the street below. Somehow the taxi gets through but it is a long way around getting out of the area as so many streets are blocked. We finally arrived at the Gare to suck down a couple of beers in relief and laugh about it (But it’s never funny while you’re in it!).

NICE (Actually I’m writing this from a sidewalk café in Venice) Our little Hotel Eden had us stymied for a while when we arrived. There seemed to be something wrong with the light switch. We fought it for a few hours until I realized it had a 2 - 3 second delay lag before it turned on. Why? We didn’t get Petit Dejuiner as the boy on duty forgot to tell us to order it the night before. He also forgot to tell us how to get in after 10 PM. Lucky the manager was available to unlock the door. Our hotel is tiny, our room is tiny, so off to Monte Carlo it is. I notice that the sculptor Pomodoro’s giant brass ball is gone from the park in front of the casino. I am wearing short pants so I can’t get into the Casino. Bummer! What do I look like? A tourist? At least that saves us the 20 franks Joy always loses in these casinos. We spend it on a beer instead in the near- by cafe. Back in Nice we found a great trattoria for dinner. Spaghetti, what else? Next day exploring the city, mostly old town, great lunch at another trattoria. Took an underground elevator to the high ramparts overlooking the city & beach. Watched a huge new Corsica ferry load and tear off down the sea. It’s unusual in that the prow lifts up to load trucks and cars. Spagettissimo Restaurant 81Franks ($16) Fettucine Bombay (fet. + rock shrimp) Grapes fried till they burst Cream, curry, saffron Old Nice, 18th century buildings, narrow lanes. Vegetable /flower market finished at noon. Everyone packs up and city cleaning crew piles all boxes in a heap, sweeps up and it’s all clean for the adjacent restaurants to move out their tables & chairs. The shade canopies are left up, thank God. Be careful what you order! How can you know that spaghetti or a salad can come with a RAW egg on top? Tried to buy 4 tickets from bus driver but he refused, I only get 2 for Joy and me. Smelled a Mexican restaurant last nite. How did we miss that. Didn’t get there for lunch today as we planned. How about those babes at the beach! They come from all over the world to take their tops off and show their tits. OK! Stopped at the famous Negresco Hotel for a couple of expensive Camparis (60F/$12) to get a small taste of how the rich folks live. But that doesn’t work because you fret about how much it costs. I’ve actually seen a T shirt without an add on it! Young kids here seem to be well behaved, can sit with adults and actually have an intelligent conversation. Oh, how I do not miss all the stupid baseball caps (on backwards), the NBA haircuts, the low slung pants & all that crap. Kids can drink at 16 but don’t seem to flock down to the bar and get sloshed. The wine bottle labels don’t tell me I’m going to die if I drink this stuff and am pegnant. A French couple asked me for the time & I showed them my digital watch and it took them a while to figure it out. Of course HOW to flush is nothing until your confronted with a floor toilet. I mean, it’s on the floor and you somehow have to squat over it without getting your pants all wet on the floor. Be sure to move off when you figure out how to flush or you’ll get drenched. Picked up our usual fare; wine, bread, cheese & fruit for our train trip tonight.

Night train to VENIZIA Arrived at the station that evening, found our car and compartment. The train didn’t leave on time and it was kind of quieter than usual, so it took us an hour or so to find out that the Italian train workers were on strike. We found our compartment and as it was getting dark the train started moving and proceeded as if nothing was happening. However, there were no lights on the train and no concierge running around getting organized. After an hour or two someone found the light switch and it was almost normal from there on. The little cabins are so great, a upper & lower berth with a sink and a window to hang out of on these hot nights as we roll through the little towns of France & Italy. However, the toilet is at the end of the car. We arrived in Venice at dawn, got off and called our hotel for directions. Just take Vaporetto (Water bus) #1 or #52, get off at Graziana stop and Castello is there. The Sardinians learned the art of packing sardines in cans from the vaparetto(bus) riders here. Boats will come to the stop bristling with humanity and about 30 more wanting to get on. You swear it can't be done but when a few get off all the rest seem to fit. A miracle at every stop. It’s not so bad unless you’re carrying all your bags and try to find a place for them! If you have two bags, forget it! We get off at Castello, no sign. I park Joy on a bench and walk a couple of blocks in all directions. No sign. I call again. Better directions this time and it’s way thru the park to a piazza way up the canal over a bridge, through a small alley to another piazza, a large iron gate & up two flights of stairs to a $90/nite room the size of a thimble with a bidet. Venice at last! We unload and need lunch by this time, of course a small trattoria for spaghetti, what else? We’re exhausted, it’s hot, so we unpack and while Joy takes a nap,. I head over to Harry’s Bar. Eight years ago we spent hours trying to locate it, when we did it was closed for remodeling. It’s pretty upscale now, but I belly up to the slick bar and order a Martini. The bartender pulled out a cool little glass from the frig (gin & vermouth) and served it with a small bowl of olives. Cool! With my second drink, some tasty cheese goodies. Yum! Later, when we went out for dinner, Joy wanted to go to Harry’s so we get there, order drinks, no olives, everyone else has them. Second drink, no cheese goodies, everyone else has them but us, also they are turning the bar area into dining are standing around us like vultures waiting for us to leave. So much for fun at Harry’s. Time for dinner at a trattoria. We’ll have brochetta & Lasagna, thank you. Have to be back at the hotel for midnight curfew, not easy when you can’t even get dinner before 8 PM. Did a little shopping for small glass items for friends. Found an out of the way trattoria for lunch. Joy orders spaghetti & 1/4 roasted chicken. I’ve been wanting to try risotto so I ordered it. But it’s for two. (We were having a complete lack of communication here). No! The waiter said he won’t sell it to me because it’s for two! OK, forget it, I want the chicken, anyway.

Trained to Padova (Padua) today to see my Dukedom. (Remember I played the Duke of Verona in Romeo and Juliet) I stood on the steps of the civic hall (or the Loggia Della Gran Guardia, built in 1496, designed by Annibala Maggi) to address the multitudes below me. Actually there were only about six workers resting who gave me lots of huzzas. Some of the old Roman walls are still standing around here as well as the 16th century walls all around the town. This is the land of Palladio, that architect who had a wonderful sense of design and who is still influencing todays’ architects. One of his greatest works is the church of San Giorgio Maggiore, built in 1566 in Venizia. Although he "borrowed" from classical Rome he established a mathematical harmony. Too bad the Gothic was stopped at that point in Italy and he was probably largely responsible. Cold red wine! Can you imagine getting served cold red wine in a restaurant? (Cheap of course) and it also happened in Bourdeaux of all places. It does happen even home in Sonoma County but these people have been doing it for hundreds of years! (Well, thousands if you count the Romans, but they never made good wine as the cork wasn't even invented yet, which of course, was one of the all time great inventions!). After buying a collapsible set of wheels for my suitcase (This was before wheeled suitcases) we found a little home town bar to sit, drink and write before we return to last nights trattoria for more soup & pizza, but no, it’s closed. We got lost on our way back to Castello (With Joy constantly reminding me) we came across a nice trattoria near our hotel for soup, pizza & Ameretto. Good thing ,too, it is raining and wind is blowing. Next morning, It’s time to move on again, so I convince Joy (She falls for it every time!) of a shortcut to the Vaporetto. At least I have wheels now on my bag because it’s a good ways to the nearest stop. We navigated over a couple of bridges that are humps over canals and they have several steps to get over. When we arrived at the stop we discovered that our water bus doesn’t stop at all the stops so we had to go on further along the quay to find the right one. This is worse than Joy’s trip up the Champs Elysees, and she lets met know about it (Actually for the next thirty years). Only one more bridge, only 6 more bridges. We finally jammed onto a waterbus and got to the station.

FIRENZE A glass of wine with a grape cut and hung over the rim. We really like this city. Too bad our Pensione is like a dormitory atmosphere twin beds, but it’s rough getting both of us fatties into one of those little beds. Found a really nice little bar just around the corner from hotel in the “Expensive” section near Armani, Gucci, all the guys. Who can afford all this crap? We nearly gave up on finding a restaurant until we came across “American Bar”. It is really a big restaurant with a side piano bar area. We had really great food there several times. Great old room, is this a write-off by Mafia? After dinner, when ready to move to the bar and music, the sexy waitress said the table with candle was for us. Wow! ”Due Amaretto & café!” please. We discovered later this room was a stables in the 16th century.

Day trip to ROME Only of hour and a half on fast rain to Rome so we do it as the Sistine Chapel was closed for cleaning last time we were here. Rome is dirty, packed with people but has some of the greatest treasures. We stood & sat and stared at the masterpiece with our mouths open, (It’s easier to look up that way) at the lifelike figures in vibrant colors until we nearly broke our necks. Out in the Piazza we took a tour bus for a couple of hours, Stopped at the Spanish Steps and had a spaghetti lunch at café there, then a taxi to the stazione to return to Florence. Back in FIRENZE

Caught the 5 PM train to Florence, went to The Citte’ de Firenze Ristaurante for good food but a little pricey. In a café a buxom blonde, low cut, with a cell phone tucked in her bosom, the arial sticking out! Men like playing with faces of women here, and other parts. The Polizia look like Nazi SS with their peaked caps, red strips on pants and the chrome 45's in a forward position, however, their uniforms were designed by Armani.. Now we have to do laundry and it’s raining. Across the street from the Wash & Dry was a good looking trattoria and good food at reasonable (for Italy) prices. Then off to mosey around the Ponte Veccio but on the way we stopped at Harry’s Bar of course. The bartender is the cashier, busboy, waiter and anything else that comes along. He has a giant brandy snifter on the bar with ice cubes in it and some liquid. Out comes the frozen glasses, a little vermouth dumped in the snifter, then the gin is added. Cool. The maestro’s name is Leonardo and he has a habit of hanging his spectacles off one ear when not needing them. I finally spent some money on myself and bought a purse with a wrist strap from a small shop just around the corner from the old bridge. Picked up our Hertz car, a Fiat Punto for our trip to Siena. However, getting out of town is like driving in a minefield, but once outside it was a beautiful drive over the hill and dale of the Chianti Trail. Some light rain on and off. Arrived in Siena in about an hour and took a while to find a micro parking spot near an Automobile club where Joy talked them out of a map of the town. I don’t know why we didn’t have a map. Anyway, the town is a marvel and we just wallowed in it. It was really raining as we left and fought (Each other) our way out of the maze of streets, I thought we were going in the wrong direction but Joy managed to navigate us out of town to Pogghibonsi and thus onto the AutoStrada. It was raining so hard we had to pull over and stop once in a while as the wipers couldn’t keep up, but meanwhile, cars were zooming by at 7o mph!. Crazy Italians is right! We turned off to stop at the fabulous hilltown of San Giminagno and found a “Panorama” dirt road and when we got to the top, the rain cleared and there was the perfect Kodak moment view. We came into town via the back door and found a parking spot outside the Old walls. This town has several of the old towers still standing and it is great. Back down the hill to the Strada and the craziness of getting back into Firenze. Managed to find Hertz to return the car, then to a dinner. We wound up sharing a table with a couple from New Zealand and a girl from San Francisco who was a newly ordained chef here. Interesting conversation and tales to share as she had been to most of the places we had. Gathered together our food survival stuff for our long train back to Paris. We travel along one side of Lake Lugano and white stone quarries on our way to Switzerland. We’ve programed a layover in Luzanne for a couple of hours , changed some Lire for Swiss money but found out later we were short changed about $50. Hopped on a cog wheel tram down to the lake and had a nice lunch on the terrace of a hotel, Joy all agog at all the white swans around the dock. Got back on the train for the several hours trip to Paris.

PARIS

Caught a taxi back to Montmartre, here was Maggie out in front of her little hotel waving us in. After showering we stopped at Deux Magots, Boufingers (The city’s oldest brasserie) and lunch at Hippopotamus, kind of like a modern Denny’s. Next day we took a day trip to nearby Provins, where an old Roman tower still stands amid a quaint little village. Back in Paris we had dinner at a highly rated little Café Rene’. They were surprised we didn’t have reservations but found a tiny table right next to the kitchen door traffic, but we didn’t care as Joy was able to get her Boeuf Bourgugnon, which was excellent. After finishing dinner, very satisfied, we went across the street to find the Metro station locked up and gated. No signs. This was about 11 PM. We flagged down a police car and found out the Metro was on strike, of course. Somehow we managed to find a taxi to get back to our hotel L’Ermitage. I hate these commies! Time to go home . *