A Wonderful Trip in Review

Dear Reader,

It's been far too long since my last blog and there are many new stories to tell. John and I just returned two weeks ago from three weeks in Italy, Croatia, Greece and Turkey, by land and by cruise. It was a wonderful vacation and we made many lasting memories. I would like to tell some of the highlights and lowlights today but will go into more detail about some of my favorite experiences throughout my next several blogs.

First of all, those of you who run your own business and travel a lot know how difficult it is to get caught up once you return home with the mail, bills, clients, family, weeds in the garden, and just business in general. It can be quite daunting and I tend to allow it to take over my life for a couple of weeks. My apologies for waiting so long to tell my story.

For the fourth year in a row we decided to combine our land tour of a European country with a cruise for several reasons not the least of which is financial. The Euro has once again risen to terrifying heights and our dollar just doesn't compete anymore. Hotel prices are higher than ever as well as meals and everything else. On a cruise ship you take your hotel room with you everywhere you go and get free meals as well. This saves quite a bit of money. Plus the transportation is another consideration. We got to travel all the way to Croatia, Greece and Turkey without spending an extra dime. This is decided advantage.

Another reason to combine a cruise with a trip to Europe is that it allows you a chance to relax, wind down, and catch your breath. Our cruise had two free days at sea which was a wonderful opportunity to heal blisters, catch up on some reading, swim and heal sore muscles in one of the many spas. By the time we joined our cruise ship in Venice we had already hiked all over Northern Italy with our packs and without and had pretty much been on the move non-stop. We were ready for some pampering.

This vacation was our second visit two years in a row to Northern Italy, Bergamo, Bolzano and Venice. Last year was so much fun but our visit was too short in some places that we felt a return visit was warranted. Also we had two good friends going with us to whom I wanted to introduce these places. Unfortunately they were unable to make it and we mourned their absence. However, after a few days John and I were back to our usual delight at being in such wonderous places.

Bergamo was as wonderful as we remembered. This medieval hilltown is only an hour from Milan and easily toured in one day. The weather was fabulous, warm and sunny, and our apartment was perfect, just down the street one block from the main piazza. We spent our first two days just enjoying the place, wandering about, revisiting some of the sights and basically recuperating from our 11 hour flight to Frankfurt, a second flight to Milan, a train to Bergamo which got stuck on the tracks for an hour's delay while a man who apparently had a stroke was being tended to, then a hike to the funicular because the buses had stopped running. It is the perfect place to begin a long vacation and just smell the flowers.

Next we returned to Bolzano to once again see Ortzi the Iceman, the worlds oldest mummy, as well as see the rest that Bolzano and the Alto Adige in the Dolomites has to offer. Once again we reserved an apartment in Soprabolzano, the small village high in the mountains overlooking Bolzano and accessible by a 16 minute ride on a funicular or cablecar. They call it a funicular but it's a large car on wires dangling over the mountains as you ascend. This ride alone is worth the trip and with three nights in Soprabolzano, we had plenty of opportunity to ride it every day, sometimes more than twice.

One disappointment I must mention was our apartment. Our landlady had promised to meet us at the top of the funicular and give us a ride to the apartment because it is straight uphill and we had our packs. I promised I would call her the minute we arrived by train and had also provided her with our train information just in case. After walking about 8 minutes from the train station to the funicular station I managed to call her but there was no answer and no machine. I tried calling all the way up the mountain and never reached her.

A group of teenage students and their teacher were riding with us on the funicular and overheard my problem. The teacher told me one of her students lives next to the apartment and would take us there. That was really very kind. As soon as we arrived in Soprabolzano he took off on foot with us in tow. The climb wasn't too bad at first but long and I had to eventually stop and rest. It was once again sunny and felt very warm and my pack was getting very heavy. John kept up with him and told me to follow when I could. The boy finally stopped and walked through a gate. John asked him if that was the apartment and he said "No, it's my place, the apartment is right around the corner." So off we went again up up and up somemore. The road got very steep and was bordered mostly by forest and an occasional house but there were few addresses anywhere. I lagged behind once again. Finally, the boy stopped and told John the apartment was just up a bit further on the right side and left us. John stopped and waited for me.

By the time I caught up with John I was really a mess and my bad ankle was hurting. There appeared to be no end in sight and no apartment was visible. We had no way of finding it so I tried calling her again but there was no answer. Moments like these make you wonder why you spent countless hours planning and studying maps to make sure that moments like these don't happen! We looked at each other and agreed to screw the apartment and find a hotel down near the funicular. We had passed a beautiful place early on and also a short cut dirt road leading down to it. It was quite steep but we both managed not to sprain any more ankles.

At this point I would like to highly recommend the Hotel Latemar in Soprabolzano. We walked in without a reservation and got a beautiful modern corner room with a wrap around private balcony facing south and the mountains for only 60.00 Euros per night including a fabulous breakfast. This mother and daughter establishment looks like a giant chalet with the geraniums in all the windows and even has a lift. There is also a beautiful garden in front with a very large tiled terrace. Breakfast wasn't just coffee and corneto. They served a dish called ham/eggs with homemade prosciutto like ham and two fried eggs cooked on top. There was also cappucino, orange juice, lots of different homemade breads, jams, fresh honey and chocolate. The hotel is located just uphill a short distance from the funicluar which made coming and going to Bolzano much easier. We were very lucky to stay there and will stay there again next time we visit Soprabolzano.

One cannot mention Bolzano without talking about the best bar in Europe, at least in my opinion! We couldn't wait to return to the Fischebank Bar and see the delightful owner, Cobo. The surprising thing was that he remembered us from the year before and was and funny, charming and entertaining as ever. I will write more about this in detail in a blog dedicated to Bolzano. There is just too much to tell and it would be unfair to condense it now. Bolzano is definitely worth a few days and we had an outstanding visit ending every hard working tour day with a few hours at the Fischebank Bar. You ever feel like you've come home again when you are away because the place makes you feel at so comfortable and welcome? That's the Fischebank Bar.

Our next stop was another hilltown, Asolo, in the Trento Adige, about an hour northwest of Venice. Asolo is quite famous and very popular as a tourist destination and yet we had never been there before so I thought it was about time to see what all the fuss was about. It was another hot and sunny day when we took a very crowded train from Bolzano to Trento and another to the small yet bustling Castelfranco Veneto.

My hours of research on transportation to Asolo failed us completely. That combined with the inability to get a map of Castelfranco in advance combined into another minor setback. Supposedly there is an intercity bus which leaves from the train station and stops at the base of Asolo. Then there is supposed to be a free shuttle bus running every half hour from the base of Asolo up into the town itself.

Upon arrival in Castelfranco we bought bus tickets to Asolo at the tabacchi bar in the station and asked the server where and when to catch the bus. She advised that the bus does not leave from the station but rather from the bus station which is only a 15 to 20 minute walk to the left. John and I were in no mood to do another long walk with our packs so we asked a taxi how much for a ride to the bus station. We were quoted 8 Euros. This seemed like a lot to us. Then the owner offered to take us to Asolo for only 20.00 Euros so we said yes! What we didn't realize was that he would drop us off at the bus stop at the base of Asolo instead of taking us up into town. Oh well, we were sitting down and happy to do so.

At Asolo Ca' Vescovo, which is the name of the bus stop, we stood around wondering what to do next. There was a bus stop but we couldn't tell by reading it if any of the buses go into the old town. Fortunately the first bus to arrive did. When I tried to ask if it was the free shuttle the driver didn't understand me so we paid the 1.00 Euro fare and hopped aboard. This bus is called the De Zen. Later we found out at our hotel that the shuttle is free only on Sundays, and I think for locals everyday.

Our hotel, the Hotel Duse, named after the famous actress of the 19th century, Eleanora Duse, was very nice and located right on the main piazza. I say "main piazza" kindly because it is very small indeed. In fact, Asolo itself is very small. Most of it is residential and spreads up and out into the surrounding countryside but the bars and restaurants are all right in the center. Once again, I say "all" kindly because we found only two restaurants in town that were open on a Saturday night. As far as the sightseeing, there really is nothing in town worth all the effort to get there to see.

The sight is the town. It is almost completely Renaissance and a bit run down looking. The queen's palace as it is called is only partially in tact and not open for visits except for the one remaining tower. The castle, way up on a hill overlooking Asolo, is open only on Sundays by appointment. The Duomo is quite old and Romanesque but nothing else can be toured. We did visit a "medieval house" in the basement of the bar "Epoch" which was tiny but interesting in that one of the partially remaining walls was built by the Romans. This we visited after a very long hike through town and out into the countryside past many Renaissance buildings and grand villas to the cemetary where the great Eleanora Duse is buried. This is next to an abbey which cannot be visited. We were looking for the entrance to a grand villa which supposedly has a tunnel underneath leading to the other side of the mountain. However, there was no entrance that we could find. We couldn't find Eleanora Duse either but we did find two long black snakes completely wrapped around each other and wiggling wildly. At first I thought it was a two headed snake until they split up and went in opposite directions. One headed my way and I lost sight of it because I was about six feet above on the overlook so I tiptoed to the edge to find him and sure enough, he was climbing the wall towards me! We both jumped at the same time and he fell to the ground and joined back up with his friend.

Hot, tired, and dusty we returned to our hotel to clean up wondering why we were there. That evening we returned to the same restaurant for dinner where we had eaten lunch, on our street, Via Robert Browning. We really liked the place, Al Baccaro. The food is outstanding and reasonably priced which is rare now in Italy. After dinner we took a stroll in the other direction up Via Robert Browning and returned to the piazza past closed shops and a couple of bar/restaurants. The street was hopping with people. There was a very attractive wine bar we passed as well as a bar with a live jazz band playing. They were a small ansemble of 5-6 musicians but they were very good and the place was packed.

When we returned to the piazza for our evening digestif at Cafe Central, the most popular hangout in town, the place had come alive with crowds of people. It was an amazing metamorphis from that day. We sat and watched the people with their dogs, girls dressed up in very short short strapless dresses and spike heals, and men driving convertible sports cars cruising for parking in a town that was packed and had no parking remaining. They were all wearing silk scarves and suits. Several at the bar were wearing sunglasses at night. It was quite a scene for such a tiny town. The sky was a dark vermillion blue and the stars were abundant. The castle was illuminated as were the Duomo and the tower. John and I realized that that we liked Asolo afterall. It's all just a matter of perspective.

The day we left we knew where to catch the non-free De Zen bus, right outside our hotel in the piazza, and we used our bus tickets to get back to Castelfranco. When we arrived at the bus station in Castelfranco we asked the bus driver if there is city bus to the train station and he pointed to it. We boarded the bus and the driver, as well as a nice lady, both told us where to exit and how to reach the station. This cut our walk down to a manageable distance via a tunnel underneath the tracks and wasn't bad at all. Sometimes no matter how hard you prepare for a trip you simply cannot find out the necessary details until you are there.

That day we took the train to Venice to board our ship, the Norwegian Jade. It was a seven day cruise which is a good length of time to rest up for the next round of travel. Every stage of getting to the ship from the train station went as planned and needless to say I did not fall or sprain my ankle this time.

As far as cruise ships go, the Jade needs some work. Even though I have sailed on her sister ship, the Gem, there is no comparison. The Jade needs new decks, particularly around the swimming pools and spas. The waterfall on the adults only pool wasn't working most of the time. There are old fashioned TVs in the staterooms instead of flat screens as on the Gem. The carpeting on our deck was a hodgepodge of different patterns sewn together. New carpeting is needed throughout. Our stewards were fine but not stellar and didn't introduce themselves until I found them. Even the entertainers weren't as talented as we have experienced on other cruises. By the end of the cruise most of the staff seemed ambivalent and lazy. I've never encountered this on any other cruise and don't know why they were that way. That being said, the food was outstanding, the drinks cold and the beds comfortable. We enjoyed ourselves as always, met some fun people and had great adventures at the ports of call, which I will talk about in another story.

Many times during the vacation John and I toasted "Asolare" a verb created by a poet in Asolo to mean "The Art of Doing Nothing". We devoted as much time as possible to this pursuit and did quite well, I believe. We also realized once again how completely compatible we are when traveling. The same things amuse us, entertain us and piss us off. No matter what happens, we always manage to find a solution, a happy place and pure pleasure in our surroundings.

My parting thought for the day is if you are working yourself too hard, take a break, smell the flowers and drink a toast to Asolare.

Ciao Bella

"Everybody Knows It's Happening at the Zoo"

Dear Reader,

Cathedrals, castles, art museums, ancient ruins, scenic beauty are all reasons why I love to travel in Europe but every now and then I've discovered that it's important to do something a bit out of the ordinary for a change of pace. Lately I've discovered the amazing zoos in some European cities. If the weather is fine and your brain is fried from too much history, this is the place to be.

Unlike our zoos, at least the ones I've been to outside of New Orleans, these zoos have all kinds of beverages and local cuisine. If you're dying for that beer under a shade tree or next to a beautiful fountain, not a problem. Afterall, touring a zoo can be just as hard on the feet as walking on ancient stone streets and more distracting too.

On one particular trip to Central Europe I decided it was time to see some of the famous zoos as a change of pace. We visited three zoos on that trip, the Budapest Zoo, the Vienna Zoo and the Alpenzoo in Innsbruck, Austria. Each one had some very special aspects that made them memorable. We had also visited Prague on the same trip but the city had just suffered a terrible flood and one of their elephants drowned as a result and I just couldn't go there after such a tragedy. They claim they tried everything they could to save the elephant but I know the animal can swim so it's hard to believe after days of trying they could not rescue him. Something like this can really put me off on a place but we went to Prague anyway and enjoyed the city for it's uniqueness and music, food and beer, but not its zoo.

The first zoo we visited, and probably the best one, was the Budapest Zoo. It is truly a "hands-on" zoo. I've never been to any zoo where I could get that close to every animal no matter how shy or dangerous they might be. Often at the San Diego Zoo or the Audubon Zoo in New Orleans, I wished that I could get a closer look at the giraffes or the zebras but they are far too shy to come near. Not so at the Budapest Zoo. They come right up to the fence and let you pet them and also feed them special pellets you can buy from vending machines. It's excellent. Suddenly I was five years old again and standing on the fence in order to reach over and pet the animals, including a rhinocerous! Yes, I petted a rhinocerous. He didn't seem to mind or even to notice me.

That day I also fed a camel who would stick out his tongue about 2 feet long and snatch the pellets out of my hand. I couldn't stop laughing at his mouth grinding around and around in between tongue lashings. I petted a zebra which behaved just like a pony and ate out of my palm.

But my favorite thing was an up close an personal view of the giraffes being fed. They bring these giants inside a feeding barn with a wall of plexi-glass about 4 feet high to separate them from humans. Their food is on the floor right in front of the glass so we were able to walk right up to them as the giraffes bent way way down to eat their food. Frequently the one I was close to kept raising his head way up to the ceiling inbetween bites as if to let me know he was watching me. It was so funny I couldn't resist trying to touch him. John said he'd give me a Euro if I touched his tassel. The giraffes have what appear to be tassels on top of he stump where their horns would be. They look rather like sprouting cauliflower for a better description. I took his bet and the next time the giraffe bent over to eat I reached over the glass and rubbed his tassel. This did not go over well because he suddenly raised his head way up to the full length and gave me a really mean look while he did it. It didn't seem to frighten him though because a minute later he was bent over eating some more so I touched his tassel again. This was just too much. John and I were laughing hard at this point and the giraffe looked really perturbed. I could hear him thinking "How would you like it if I kept messing with your head while you are trying to eat?" But I won my Euro and since that day have been known as "Kathy Giraffe Tassel", a title of which I am very proud.

At that point in the day I thought I had experienced the very best until we wandered into the elephant feeding barn. All of the elephants had just been marched inside in a line, trunk to tail, by size and age and stopped to a whistle command. Another command and they all turned to face us looking at them through the plexi-glass. All that is except the baby. He was adorable and a bit confused. He did fine on the march into the building but when the all turned about face he first ran left and then ran right before being pulled into line. I fell in love with him instantly. Each elephant had an enormous feast of his very own which looked quite good. It was a huge pile of green grasses with large carrots on top and when the whistle blew each elephant went straight for his or her pile. All that is except the baby who apparently did not have a pile. He wandered back in forth hoping to snatch some leftovers from his mother and the others without much luck. I'm not sure why the baby didn't get his own food but the zoo keepers know more about elephants than I do so I suppose he was being trained and it was all part of the pecking order. It was fun watching the giant beasts use their trunks to wrap up a bunch of grass and carrots and toss the pile into their open mouths. Each one would catch a bunch of food while the rest fell back to the ground. Then they would start scooping and try again. Each one that is except for a giant bull elephant, obviously the king of that group. He was big and looked mean and everytime the baby got near him he roared at him so loudly the baby would run off in terror. This giant beast took forever to scoop up his food, very carefully and precisely scooping around it from the right and then the left and from the front and the back until it was a manageable pile. Only then would he attempt to pick it up and drop it into his mouth and the amazing part was he never dropped one piece of grass nor one carrot. It was like watching a master, a gourmand who never spills a drop, and we were fascinated. This slow process went on for some time. When he finally finished, he strolled down to the gully right in front of us and began scooping up all of the food that had been dropped by the sloppier elephants and continued with his very neat and anal retentive pile making and eating. The baby was beginning to get quite frantic by this point and actually tried to eat some left over food right next to him but this was not to be allowed. Once again the giant turned and roared at him. Poor baby. I'm sure they must have fed him later when he was alone. But it made a great show for we inferior creatures.

The Budapest Zoo is in the middle of a very large and lovely park with a small castle and a lake and many flower gardens. It's a wonderful place on a fine day and it seemed that just about everyone who lives there was visiting that day. I wanted to just plop down on the grass and watch the kids chase the ducks but we had more touring to do later so this was one of those missed opportunities for doing nothing. However, the zoo was delightful and relaxing and ever so memorable. I highly recommend it whether you have kids or not. Animals are not necessarily attracted to children anyway. They just sense the child in all of us and if we show we are not afraid and want to make a connection, they always seem to respond in a positive way.

We had a great time also at the Vienna Zoo, which is at the Schonbrunn Palace, and has some very interesting exhibits including a room with the tiny marsupials called golden tamarinds. They were running all over the place on branches right over my head and were ever so cute. I could have reached up and touched one but didn't want to frighten them so I refrained. I was so taken by the golden tamarinds, which look like tiny monkeys with lion faces, that I failed at first to notice that I was surrounded by vampire bats, all sleeping upside down and very close and personal. When one of them yawned and spread his wings I nearly panicked an ran but I saw he was sleepy and he did go right back to sleep. That was really creepy though. But to make things worse was the next room we wandered into, the snake pit. I was looking into open top glass cages down at all kinds of very dangerous and poisonous snakes plus the terrifying killers like the cobra and the anaconda when John pointed out one right over my head hanging on a branch. At this I freaked. I do not like snakes and to find myself in a room full of them with no barriers was more than I could handle. I tried to leave but John insisted on showing off first so he petted the cobra and the anaconda before I ran. What a show off. So he is now the snake whisperer. The Vienna Zoo also has some very nice outdoor exhibits including the ever so cute red pandas hanging in trees close enough to almost reach them. If you've never seen a red panda, they are an adorable combination of a furry red fox with a panda face and they live in trees. Later I saw lots of these in Australia but this was my first time and they seemed very exotic.

The Alpenzoo in Innsbruck, Austria has an unusual setting as well as unusual animals. It's 3/4 of the way up  a mountain across the Inn River from the city. To get there you take a cable car up the mountain which I always enjoy. To get a cable car ride and visit a zoo all in one is a great treat for me. The zoo actually clings to the side of the mountain and is famed for its authentic alpine collection of animals, all local from the region. I thought this might be rather boring but it was not. There is quite a range of Alpine animals not to mention bears and Moose but I also got my first close up visit with wolves. These wolves had bright blue eyes and were on total alert. Everytime anyone would walk by, they'd stop and just stare as if assesing the danger and the nutrional value of the human in question. They were most particularly interested in children, which was kind of spooky. I had always heard that wolves got a bum rap and aren't hunters of humans but this bunch had me thinking twice.

There was a Moose who got very excited because he was calling his harem of females to him for a meeting of sorts and you could hear the guy yelling all the way across the zoo. There were also lots of little critters of interest but our favorite part of the zoo was the petting zoo. There is a very large barn yard filled with pigs and geese which were very entertaining. Here I must digress. John has a strange effect on most animals. They either love him or hate him and the ones that hate him are very aggressive about it. He's had more than one run-in with geese in the past. As soon as they see him coming they start gaggling and squawking and yelling at the tops of their lungs and then try to out walk him. It's really hilarious to watch as he tries to get closer and they continue to waddle away frantically squawking all the way. Before we discovered the petting zoo, I had to pay a visit to the WC. When I came out John was gone but it didn't take me long to find him because the geese were screaming at the tops of their lungs non-stop so I just followed the caterwalling. There was John petting the cutest little pig who was standing on his hind legs with front feet on the fence in order to reach John. This pig seemed to be in love with John and kept snorting in a haw haw haw haw sound with each pet. When John tried to leave and walk around the compound, the pig followed him around. After we tried to pass the geese, which were in such a state of frenzy by this point there was no settling them down, we reached the other side of the compound where the pig was once again waiting for John to pet him. He had brought a couple of friends with him too and John and I did our best to pet all three of them, each one haw haw hawing happily. Finally we had to leave because the zoo was closing and we still wanted to take the cable car on up to the top of the mountain where there are spectacular views of Innsbruck as well as some interesting rock formations and notes of historical interest. It was another great day at the zoo.

Animals enrich our lives just as every experience we have for good or bad. Just look at the Egyptian tombs with their cats carved into the walls and the many breeds of dogs the British in particular have created to be man's best friend and helpful servant. Europe, just like any other place, is not made simply of stone but also of blood and sweat and tragedy and war and it's about people and the animals they know. Next time you need a break from a museum, take a gandef at the local zoo. You won't regret it.

Cheers,

 

Asolare, the Art of Doing Nothing

Dear Reader,

In my frantic race to complete the planning of my upcoming trip to Italy, Croatia, Greece and Tureky next week, I have failed in my duties to my blog and beg your forgiveness. My travel plans are now set, my itinerary and all practical tips completed, and rail passes, Vaporetto passes, tours and the Alilaguna Water bus tickets for Venice are all purchased and ready. Now I can begin to enjoy the anticipation of another European adventure.

Next week we fly to Milano, Italy to begin our next Italy visit. We will be re-visiting several places we liked last year including Bergamo, Bolzano and of course, Venice. There will be no time to return to Rome or further south on this particular trip but I know I'll be back again soon and always enjoy returning again and again to my favorite towns and cities and beaches. Italy is like an old familiar shoe that fits very well. The people are in perfect sinc with my sensibilities and all worries about such mundane things as finances, aging parents, politics, jobs, health problems, insomnia all just melt away by a wave of a magic wand. A vacation to Italy is not only spiritual it's medicinal. I just feel better when I'm there. The food is better and fresher. The wine is refreshing as water and the walking is rejuvinating.

John and I discovered many years ago on one of our first trips to Europe that it is important to take some time off while touring the great cities and sights and just smell the flowers. Rick Steves, a travel guru, recommends taking a vacation from your vacation and he's right. The very first time we took his advice our entire outlook of our vacation changed instantly, and we've been doing it every since then. I'm not sure now but I believe we were visiting Carcassonne, France for the first time and it's such a tiny old place that we saw all the sights in an hour. We had read that this is a great place for that vacation from your vacation and decided to spend the rest of our time just loitering around, drinking wine and looking at the views. It was fabulous. We found a wine bar that has a fenced in grass yard and a collie dog where we could sit at a picnic bench all day and try different local wines. John is still crazy over Fitou, a black wine. I liked them all. At night we walked outside the walled city through vineyards to see the illuminated city. It was beautiful.

Since that time we have truly practiced and perfected what we like to call "The Art of Doing Nothing" while traveling and in some respects it is the best part of every vacation we take. Once, enroute to Barcelona, we spent the night in the artist's colony of Collioure, France. It was sleepy and lovely with a sunny beach and a castle across the bay. A woman was racking wine at the winery right across from our pension's window so we visited her winery, bought a bottle of a dry crisp white and took it out onto the pier to drink it. We sat there and watched the sun set. It was great until a drunk German guy tried to bum a drink off of us. Go find your own art of doing nothing and don't intrude upon ours!

Siena is another city where the art of doing nothing seems to be the motto. Yes, it is a bustling city and has many activities and parades and the palio but it also has the most relaxing and spectacular piazza I've ever seen, Il Campo. On our first visit, we were staying in a lovely little pensione which consisted of three bedrooms above a tiny mom and pop osteria just around the corner from the Il Campo right behind the City Hall. It was a hot and dusty day and we had wandered about quite a bit looking at the wonderful buildings and the Duomo. John was tired and decided to take a nap but I wasn't about to lose that opportunity to savor and absorb the Il Campo late in the afternoon. So I bought a carafe of homemade wine from my landlord and borrowed a glass and made my way to the Il Campo. At that time of day the bricks were still quite warm and toasty but no longer hot to the touch. It was a perfect place to relax and people watch so I plopped down in a good spot and drank my wine reflecting on the day and the vacation so far. Staring at the famous "Torre Mangia" Tower which we had climbed that day made me realize how small we are. When we were atop the 27 story tower the people down below in the Il Campo were the size of ants. The design of the bricks in the piazza reminds me of a giant scallop shell narrowing towards the city hall and tower. People are always wandering about, children playing, eating gelato, teenagers making out, old couples holding hands and everyone just enjoying the sun and the bricks. It was the most relaxed I had felt in over a year.

Later after dinner, I took John back over to the Il Campo to sit and watch the moon which had risen over the top of the Torre Mangia. It was magical. The night sky looked dark vermillion and the city hall, tower and all buildings surrounding the piazza were illuminated. It was very easy that evening to understand why this was all built in thanks for the end of the plague. Perhaps if we built places like that now we could end wars?

I was in Paris alone once for 10 days and practiced my art of doing nothing every day. It was lovely. Having already seen most of the sights of the city more than once I was able to do whatever I pleased whenever I wished and the city opened up to me like a fresh flower. I strolled along the Seine River and sat in the Tuilleries Gardens watching the kids with their boats. I visited the Musee D'Osay numerous times and just stared at my favorite paintings for hours. I road around on the bateau mouches just for fun and to watch the locals sunbathing on the concrete banks of the river. One day I visited the Rodin Museum, my favorite, and took a nap on the lawn in the garden along with several other dozen people. It was most enjoyable being there amongst the great sculptures and flowers. Every day I would walk to the Luxembourg Gardens to read a book and drink and people watch. Then later wander into my favorite little bar for a kir and to use the computer to send emails to John. Dinner was always right around the corner. No worries about that. It was fabulous. I became a citizen during those ten days and enjoyed the experience immensely.

John and I have had many other experiences practicing our art of doing nothing. One of our favorites is to find an apartment or B&B with a rooftop terrace where we can spend hours looking over the rooftops and drinking wine, snacking on cheese or prosciutto or pate' in France. I can't think of a better way to unwind.

We Americans are way to wound up as it is. The art of doing nothing eludes us. We always have something we must do and are unable to find a balance. Yet when we are in Europe we do find that balance easily. If you stop and listen you'll find it too. One of my favorite lines from a movie came from Giovanni, a rather stereotypical womanizer in the movie "Only You" when he was making a move on an American he told her "You Americans live for work, you look forward to work. We work to live." That is so true. I work to live and live is what I do when traveling.

There have been so many times when there was just one more sight to see or one more town to visit but we chose instead to practice our art of doing nothing instead. It's easy once you try it. We just say we'll be back sometime and we'll see that town or sight the next time. But this time my feet hurt and there's a beautiful little bay right in our town of Vernazza on the Cinqueterre and our landlord makes homemade Vernazza di Cinqueterre wine so let's go buy some from him and take our shoes off and soak them in the freezing Mediterranean instead. That works for me.

Countless times the Art of Doing Nothing has come by surprise. We are tired and thirsty and wander into a bar somewhere. The drinks are cold and the crowd lively. The bartender is particularly amuzing and friendly. The dogs are also friendly and I miss my animals for a bit. Before we know it we are on our fourth drink, eating appetizers and chatting with five of our new best friends. Who needs to go see another cathedral anyway? It will still be there tomorrow or next year. This part of my vacation is vital and alive.

While preparing for my upcoming trip to Italy, I came across the phrase as a verb which I was unfamiliar with. I was studying the hilltown of Asolo, Italy, where we will be staying for the first time. Apparently back in the day, medieval days that is, it was quite the party town with lots of artists and actors and even the cardinal enjoyed the contstant festivities. A verb, Asolare, was coined there which means the Art of Doing Nothing! And to think John and I thought we invented it! We've just come under its spell.

So remember if you are planning a long extensive trip through Europe or anywhere, or even a short trip which is heavy on sights, remember Asolare, the Art of Doing Nothing. It will make the experience enchanting and unforgettable and make you want for more.

Arrivederla'

Fischbanke Bar and Restaurant in Bolzano, Italy

Dear Reader,

Please forgive me for not writing this past holiday weekend. I've been working on practical tips for my upcoming visit to Italy, Greece, Croatia and Turkey. Reviewing some of the wonderful places we saw last year in Italy reminded me of one of the best places I've ever been, the Fischbanke Bar and Restaurant in Bolzano, Italy. Not that Bolzano itself isn't a great city because it is. The location at the foot of the Italian Alps, the Dolomites, and the bustling market place alone make it worthy of a visit.

Last May John and I went to Bolzano, also called Bozen, for the first time. We only had one night to squeeze it into our itinerary but I was determined to go there just to see the famous 5300 year old mummy known as "Ortzi the Iceman". Bolzano has built a spectacular museum to house the great find where you can see all of the personal implements found on or near the mummy as well as the actual mummy through a window. Poor Ortzi was killed by an arrow and bled to death high up in the Dolomites all alone. He is the oldest existing mummy in the world and the only one found to date with organs even partially intact. Scientists have learned a great deal by running DNA tests on the organs. He's a breathtaking sight and I highly recommend seeing him to anyone anywhere of all ages and interests.

While we were in the museum we observed a school teacher on a field trip with her young students aged approximately 8-10 years old. They were enraptured by her demonstration of Ortzi's tools and clothing (replicas, of course) and raised their hands to answer her questions. Several other adults joined in to enjoy her class. I could only wish that I had been able to go on a fieldtrip like that one when I was a kid.

Bolzano has many other beauties as well as historical sights. There are three castles in the close vicinity, two of them within the old city itself. One castle has vineyards growing all around it and is right on the river. What's more to like than that? The other, Runklestein Castle, is a perfectly preserved medieval castle which you can visit. The rooms and the furnishings are original and the walls are frescoed in colorful scenes of knights and religious themes, the most famous of which is the story of Tristan and Isolde.

There are also three cablecars from the city center which take you high up into the Dolomites where there are many quaint and very lovely small villages. We chose to stay in Soprabolzano, also known as Oberbozen, because it is directly at the top of the Ritten or Renon funicular or cableway. (It can be a bit confusing because everyone speaks German as well as Italian and all of the signs are in both languages.) The views of Bolzano and the steep slopes covered in vineyards with the snow covered mountains looming all around was the most spectacular scenery I have ever seen anywhere.

There is a little train which runs through Soprabolzano and stops at several of the other small villages. This train, built in 1903,  used to go straight up the mountain before the cableways were built. It was called the "Cog Train" because it was pulled by ropes on cogs. Now it simply runs on the plateau between villages. The hiking from town to town is supposedly very beautiful and I can imagine so. There are also three different locations where an ecological event called "Earth Pillars" may be seen. These are strange looking dirt cones which resemble stalagmites (or is it stalagtites?) and have hardened from the rain preventing them from sliding down the mountainside. It's an easy hike to see the ones near Collabo, also called Klopenstein.

We didn't have time to ride the train or take hikes or see any castles last year which is why we are returning next month for three nights. But we did have time after seeing Ortzi for our usual post touring relaxation, happy hour. I had noticed a very appealing bar out on the street earlier that day with red Chinese lanterns and giant umbrellas protecting it from the sun. There are two things I always notice wherever I am, gasoline prices and an appealing bar or pub. So I led John directly there and we grabbed a couple of rickety wooden stools and sat down at a marble table and waited.

The bar is right in the middle of the outside seating area and consists of a giant slab of marble. There were loads of bottles of various alcholic beverages as well as mineral waters and beer sitting there. There were two other giant slabs of marble under the umbrellas and they were very curious looking. While we waited I began to wonder if we had happened upon a private party because it appeared that you could just help yourself to a drink.

There was a man with long gray hair, blue jeans and a denim shirt, and wire framed glasses who appeared to be crazy. We watched him with fascination while he harrangued the customers, shouting at them and slapping some of them. One man, who looked as if he were just being polite by laughing, was being slapped repeatedly with a postcard the gray haired man was holding. I couldn't help but wonder why the owners don't make the crazy move on to another bar. Then he noticed us. I thought "Here we go again. This guy is going to ask us for money and we'll have to be embarrased by asking him to go away." Boy, was I wrong.

The gray haired man walked up to us and spoke in perfect English: "Hello my friends, my name is Cobo, what can get you?" We were a bit shocked and didn't know what to say at first and then I pointed at some very festive looking orange drinks in large goblets with ice that everyone seemed to have and asked him what those drinks are. He immediately said, "Oh, you'll love them. I'll bring you some right away." I looked at John because I thought he wanted a beer but I was looking forward to an ice cold drink because we had worked up a bit of a sweat that day. Cobo returned almost immediately with our drinks and after one sip I was in love! It seemed to be the most wonderfully refreshing drink I'd ever had and I sucked it down quickly. John did too.

A few minutes later Cobo returned and we ordered another round. I asked him what the name of the drink is. He said some bars call it a "Spritz" but he calls them a Veneziana. I was intrigued and asked what they consist of and he brought over the bottle of orange liquid called Aperol, a liqueur which tastes a bit like grapefruit. He had mixed it with the local champagne called sparkling wine. Absolutely delicious.

For the next several hours we tried numerous Venezianas as well as another red concoction of which I can't remember the name. Cobo, who's real name is Rino Vullo, came over frequently to chat and ask about us and to talk about himself as well. He's a fascinating person and apparently a local celebrity author and cartoonist. The postcards he was holding were designed by him. When we told him we are from California, he said he had toured all over California back in the 1970s as well as Mexico. He reminisced about those crazy days during the hippie revolution. While we were talking a big gust of wind caused one of his giant umbrellas flew right out of its holder turned sideways and stuck onto the wall of the building. John and I just stared at it stunned. We had never seen anything like that before. Cobo jumped up and down and said "Did you see that? That's crazy. I should have bet the lotto this week. That won't happen again in a million years!" He was right too.

Soon after another gust of wind blew another umbrella straight into the air but it landed back in its holder. John help Cobo get the umbrella off the wall which required a ladder and I closed up the other one. Chinese laterns were beginning to blow all over the place too so down they came. By this time I noticed that the bar was completely packed. We were lucky to have such a good table. People were sitting at the marble bars, which Cobo had explained were fish banks, or counters where they used to clean fish during medieval times. We were sitting right in the middle of the old fish market, hence the name.

There were so many interesting and lively people at the Fischbanke Bar and Restaurant that we could have spent all night. We talked to a gal in her thirties, I'd guess, who said she lives right around the corner and comes every day after work. She told me most of the people there come every day after work. This was very appealing to me and I could only wish we had a place like that in Sacramento within walking distance of our house. I also struck up a conversation with a French couple on a bike ride around the Dolomites. They had just happened upon Cobo's like we did.

During our visit, Cobo brought over a couple from Oregon and said to us "I have some friends for you." I had to laugh. He tries very hard to be accomodating and a good host. He succeded quite well. We chatted with the people from Oregon for a few minutes and then they returned to their table. John and I just had to wink because we don't need to meet other people from home, that's why we travel. But Cobo meant well. Later when he came by I asked to take his picture so he grabbed John but John is too tall, especially sitting on a tall stool. He made Cobo look like a midget. So Cobo climbed up on top of another rickety wooden stool and stood for the photo. He and a sitting John are head to head and it's a great picture. I was so worried he would fall off but he made it down safely.

He also brought us some absolutely delicious bruschetta which he makes himself and which is apparently a house specialty. There were other appetizers we saw people eating but we didn't want to spoil our dinner. Little did we know, we almost did spoil it by staying too late. When John and I finally decided to tear ourselves away and go find dinner, Cobo brought the check but insisted we stay for one more Veneziana "on the house". There's a man after my own heart! Who could resist? So we had another round while he gave us dinner advice. We were lucky that he did because, unbeknownst to us, restaurants close early in Bolzano at around 9:00PM and he sent us to the only one nearby that was still serving. It was delicious.

When we were leaving the Fischbanke, Cobo gave us his travel guide of hiking that he had done all over the Dolomites. It's all in Italian but has very nice pictures. He also gave us some of his postcards which I still keep.

I've often thought about that evening at Cobo's and what a good time we both had. We had such a good time that we've already decided we will be spending our happy hours at the Fischbanke Bar and Restaurant. If you make it to Bolzano, feel free to join us. I promise we won't send you away just because you are from home!

"We're Lost"

Dear Reader,

When driving in Europe, especially in a country where you don't understand the language at all, you just have to roll with the punches and laugh off your misfortunes and make the most of it. John and I have been getting lost behind the wheel for over twenty years now and even with the addition of Garmin, our worldwide GPS system, we still do.

Just three years ago we were driving for the first time in Greece, which I must admit was frightening because of the language difference. We had picked up our car in Corinthos on the Peleponnese and were headed to a tiny hill town called Dimitsana. But first, we were in Corinthos to visit the great Roman ruins of the ancient city before getting on our way. The ruins are fairly close and fairly well posted. To my joy and relief most signs are in both Cyrillic and Latin alphabets. We still got a bit lost driving around a small town at the foot of Corinthos but Garmin eventually got us up there and the sight is definitely worth visiting. Raised high on a hill the ancient city was once a port city conquered by Julius Caesar and remade in his Roman image. The forum and the baths are very easy to make out as well as several temples which are partially standing. High above Corinthos stands the ancient acropolis, a giant walled fortress built to protect Corinthos. We didn't have time to go up there but it was something to see even from below.

Our real trouble began when we left Corinthos to drive to Dimitsana. There are two major highways to Dimitsana, one a northern coastal route which is not convenient because you have to cut due south through a mountain range, and the other a southern coastal route which is much faster and easier. Guess which one we took? You guessed right, we took the northern coastal route.

It was really crazy because we headed off from Corinthos in the correct direction according to Garmin as well as the map but what we didn't realize was that we were supposed to turn around and head the opposite way on the highway when we first were merging.

We were racing along in our little car while I was learning to drive like a Greek and John was trying to make out the signs. I learned quickly that you only drive in the left lane when passing and then jump immediately into the right lane. This is typical around Europe so that was nothing new to me but passing when there are only 2 lanes and on-coming traffic was a whole new experience for me. The Greek drivers don't care if there's any on-coming traffic. The car they are passing is expected to pull over to the right as far as possible which means usually driving on the shoulder. This makes it possible for three cars to be passing each other all at once with only two lanes. I thought John would have a heart attack the first time I tried and also the first time I pulled way over to the right to allow another car to pass but when in Greece, you've got to drive like a Greek to survive. I have always enjoyed driving fast so this suited me well, driving with the gas pedal all the way down and passing cars in and out of traffic. I don't think this suits John very well at all as a passenger, especially when he'd say "Your going to kill us".

Finally we saw the coast line and John got worried. He started saying "It's on the wrong side." I asked what he meant by that and he said "The ocean. It's on the wrong side. It should be on our left side, not our right side." I'm thinking, "He's lost his mind finally.". We kept racing along while John, who was furiously ripping the giant Michelin Map apart trying to find out where we were and yelling at me to read the signs to him, announced that we were lost. Darn, and I was making such good time. We agreed that I should exit at the next exit so we could figure out where we were and what to do about it.

This took a long time. There are not very many exits on that particular highway, though there had been quite a few before we started looking. When we finally came to an exit I took it and immediately was on a main suburbian street with a concrete divider in the middle. John said to pull over so I took the first right into a dead-end street, of course. He decided approximately where we were and that we had somehow gotten onto the northern coastal road by accident. He said we only had two choices, either go all the way back to Corinthos and start over again or take the scenic mountain pass due south which was only a few miles back. We both agreed it would take too long to go all the way back to Corinthos so we decided to go back and find the exit for the southern pass. Not even this was an easy task. I couldn't turn left when I exited the dead-end street and had to go right. I drove and drove but there were no left turns possible. So I jumped the divider scraping the undercarriage of our little car. I really get creative when driving in foreign countries and no one seems to mind, except John, but even he was on-board this time.

Amazingly, Garmin took us directly to the exit which was only about 3km back in the direction we had come. At first it was lovely and green and hilly but then we started to climb. We climbed and climbed until we were in nosebleed altitude. The road became very narrow and curvy and there was a sheer drop off on the driver's side down to the most beautiful green valley with a blue lake that I may have ever seen anywhere. There were wildflowers growing on the hillside to my right and down below as well in every color of the rainbow. Broom, a green bush with bright yellow flowers, grows along the roadside like a weed. I was amazed by all of the color and the greenness of the mountains themselves. It got gloomy and gray and we realized we were driving in a cloud. This can't be Greece! It seemed more like the mountains in New Zealand.

I was very tense on the entire drive, which took four hours, because my little car didn't have much power and if I drove too slowly it would die on me, which was terrifying. So I tried to keep up a decent pace. I really wanted to pull over somewhere just to gaze at the sheer beauty and take some photos but there were no turnouts so on we went. On one sharp curve a goat leaped onto the road right in front of me. I nearly had a heart attack but managed to brake in time. It continued across the tiny road and leaped off the side. That was really freeky. Then a whole heard of goats along with the goatheard casually walked across the road, or rather jumped. I'd never seen anything like this before. They all went right over the side as if it weren't a sheer drop. It was really cool and I wish every day that I had my camera ready to take a picture.

Several times after we reached the valley, Garmin took us in the wrong direction. The problem was that every town we were looking for started with a K and the names were all very similar. Sometimes the signs were only in Cyrillic which, of course, looked like a bunch of geometric designs to me, so we had no idea what towns we drove by. We found a restaurant in the middle of nowhere and had some over cooked chicken and asked for directions. The owner looked at us when we first walked in as if we came from the moon. I guess they don't get a lot of Americans through that way. We took her advice and backtracked a bit and got lost again. At which point John and I turned to each other to say one of our phrases "We're Lost". This always makes us laugh and helps to defuse the stress. We've been using this saying for a long time now and it still works.

We ended up in a tiny steep village with parked cars on both sides and lots of people and dogs out walking and we had to stop numerous times to get past them. Finally when I ended up at someone's house I asked in my Greek for the town we were looking for and he gave us good directions which we followed. We finally found it and took our exit for the highway to Dimitsana. This was worth a "Life is Worth Living Again" verse or two so we sang.

The highway was huge, flat and spooky for lack of traffic. I raced along as fast as my little car would go. Then it ended at another small town. We continued to follow the signs for Olympia at this point because that was our direction and ended up on another giant flat highway which looked just like the one we had just left. We thought, humm, maybe they haven't yet finished this one portion through town, or the town insists that everyone go through town so they can sell them things or the police can give them speeding tickets. Anyway, off we went going as fast as possible. We had just spent at least an extra four hours that we had planned to spend in Dimitsana so we were in a hurry. Suddenly the car started to fly, literally, and then we landed with a thud on unpaved highway which was about six inches lower and mixed with gravel. Yikes! That really woke us up if we had been asleep. I continued to drive to the next round-about and then pulled over while we both scratched our heads wondering what the hell was that? We're lost just didn't seem to get it at this point. We were both mad. We checked out the car and it seemed fine so we decided to get off this crazy highway and drive the frontage road instead.

Low and behold, a few miles further down the road there was another on-ramp for the highway and also cars racing along it so we decided to take a chance and drive on it again. It is apparent now, looking back, that we had been driving on an unfinished highway for several miles before we hit the unfinished part. We had had no idea, of course, because it wasn't cordoned off or had any warning signs of any kind.

Finally our exit to Dimitsana came and we were glad to be on a smaller hilly road again until we reached the part where it got so narrow and had such a sheer drop that there were accidents everywhere. All along the road we saw cars smashed toghether, hanging off the side, and one time the car was down at the bottom of the cliff. I was really biting my nails by this point and honking my horn on every curve just to warn on-coming traffic. The problem with the Greek driver is that he drives the same way on the tiny roads as he does on the highways. Every other curve I turned had two cars coming at me side by side even though it was only a two lane road, one that didn't even have a middle line. I'm sure John was having the same thoughts that I was by this time, mainly that we would have been there by now relaxing over happy hour and this terrifying drive long over.

By some miracle we made it. The view of Dimitsana as we turned our first curve into sight was fabulous. I had to pull over and take some pictures. The town is very ancient and mostly dates from the thirteenth century and looks like it's about to fall off the mountain. The mountain is very green and just covered with wildflowers. It was everything I had imagined including the very narrow cobbled streets.

Upon arrival we were told to go to the first bar and call our landlord so he could take us to our B&B. There are no street addresses in Dimitsana. I got no answer on my phone so we asked inside the bar if they knew our landlord and the waiter did. He called the landlord's brother who arrived on foot to greet us. He told us where to go and said he'd meet us there. I offered him a lift but he refused. He walked us to the first right turn and then pointed. The street was very steep and so narrow I had to push the side mirrors in to keep them.

When we got to the B&B there was a sheer drop off on the right side and no room to pull over. Of course, a car came behind me and started honking because I had stopped in the middle of the road. I didn't know what to do so I told John to get out with our bags and go inside and I would drive back around. This he did and I took off assuming that the road was a type of ring road which would go around the cliff and come back to the center of town again. I was wrong, of course.

The road dead-ended and turned to dirt in the direction I thought it should go so I took a chance at the V intersection where this happened and went right over a very sharp ledge and went racing almost straight downhill. When I got to the bottom I saw a family getting out of their car in their driveway and they were staring at me too because I was on another dead-end street. I didn't know what to do but turn around. The problem was no space to turn around. The man approached me and offered to help. I was glad for assistance! He offered to drive me up the hill so I accepted. He really had to reve the little engine to get it to go forward after he had reversed it down a steep ditch to make his U turn. His wife and mother or mother-in-law were watching and yelling at him because he almost backed into a tree and then when he pulled forward he almost hit another house post because of the poor turn ratio of my car. But he made it and had to reve it all the way to the top so we wouldn't slide backwards.

He then told me how to get back to the B&B and where the parking was, which actually was on a ring road on the opposite side of town but not far away at all. By the time I got back to the B&B the landlord's brother was waiting with keys and instructions and a parking permit and more directions. I found the lot first try and his parking space and got out of the little car shaking all over and exhausted. I climbed back up a steep street, only slipping once on the cobblestones and found John already unpacking in our wonderful room with a loft.  I told him I needed a drink now. Packing could wait.

We both walked back down the steep cobbled street to the corner store and bought a refreshing chilled bottle of Greek white wine, took it back to our place and sat on our private patio which was paved with pink stones which matched the house and had a round table and chairs. There were wine glasses in the B&B and we sat there gazing at the mountains looming all around us and the red tile rooftops and we sang "Life is Worth Living Again."

Avrio

You Get Coozies in Queensland, Australia

Dear Reader,

I have been remiss in not mentioning anything about our fabulous trip to Australia in 2007. It was a marvel, a true adventure experience. In fact, it's too much to talk about in just one blog so I will attempt to talk about it a bit at a time.

It was a trip of a lifetime, almost a month in Australia, including a live aboard dive boat out of Cairns onto the Great Barrier Reef. The diving was spectacular. I saw creatures there I have never seen anywhere else before such as the giant clam, several poisonous sea snakes, tons and tons of lion fish, electric eels, just to mention a few. On one dive I was followed around by a reef shark. I've seen plenty of reef sharks in the past but never have been followed by one before. This one was right behind me every time I looked around. That was scary. It was about 6 feet long and really seemed interested in me.

The diving off our live aboard was very advanced. Often we had a huge current and the boat was spinning around so when we jumped off, often we couldn't find anyone else or follow the route we were supposed to take. On one occassion we had to surface because we got lost and then were towed to the dive site by a rope attached to the back of a rubber raft. The waves were so large that I was bouncing around literally spinning like a top. This was a first for me. And we are Master Scuba Divers so all I can say is beware if you are not that experienced, don't go diving in Australia. Not until you have some serious diving under your belt.

I would recommend the live aboard experience though. The ship was really nice. The crew was even better and the food fantastic. Unfortunately, the company, Explorer Ventures, sold their Australia boat so I cannot recommend them to anyone. However, they do have lots of other diving in other parts of the world. Check out my website to see what they offer: www. cruisefantastic.com.

When we first arrived in Queensland, Australia it was unbelieveably hot. It was January, which is summertime in Australia, but I'm telling you I've never been so hot in my life! I live in Sacramento, California which has temperatures well over 100 degrees in the summer but that's nothing compared to Queensland. I've been to many tropical places which have intense humidty such as Honduras and Belize and Venezuela but none of them prepared me for Queensland. I've even been to New Orleans in the summer, which is living hell, with temperatures reaching 100 degrees and 100 percent humidity and still never felt as hot as I was in Queensland, Australia. I honestly don't know how people can live there in the summer.

We had booked an apartment in Yorkey's Knobb which is on the northern beaches just above Cairns,  for four days prior to our live aboard experience, so we could do some exploring. It was a modest place reminding me of the old time motor motels here in California with the lawn and the swimming pool. By the time we got to the apartment from the airport via taxi I was drenched. When I saw the swimming pool all I could think of was jumping in and cooling off so as soon as we unpacked I suggested we get into our swimsuits and do just that. So with swimsuites donned we ran to the pool and jumped in. What a shock. It had to be over 100 degrees. It was hotter than our spa. Obviously, there was no refreshment in swimming so we went back to our apartment and chilled out under the three fans with the air-conditioner blowing full blast. At least we had that, though the bathroom had no air and was very hot.

That first night we walked a couple of blocks to the neighborhood restaurant, The Crocodile, and ate dinner. When we ordered beers I was amused that they came in cans and the cans were in coozies. But within 10 minutes I realized why. Even with the coozies if you don't drink your beer down fast they get hot. So that was a real eye-opener. Everywhere we went in Queensland it was the same. You get your beer in a coozie and you can take it with you outside or just about anywhere.

At lease the Australians appreciate the value of an ice cold beer! Something they could share with their English ancestors if they dared. I did like the beer in Australia and really appreciated the fact that they care about keeping them cold. After the first few days we bought our own coozies so we could drink cold beer all of the time. What a clever invention!

Another Shout Mate!

They May be Small but They Sure Can Drink!

Dear Reader,

It was on our very first trip to Europe, the Grand Tour that we took in 1983, where we spent a most extraordinary and unexpected evening at the Munich Hofbrauhaus. As much as we had been enjoying the sights of Munich and it's surrounding castles, I couldn't wait to visit the famous place and have my first enormous beer served in 1 liter mugs carried five per hand by the robust bar maids. I also wanted to eat pretzels and sauerbrauten and weiner schnitzel. It was going to be my first real German experience and I was excited.

As John and I walked down the street in the direction of the Hofbrauhaus a young Japanese guy approached and asked us in German if we knew where the Hofbrauhaus was. I couldn't understand a word he said and it didn't even cross my mind to ask if he spoke English being so used to people speaking all kinds of languages by this point in our trip. I just assumed he was German. But John was more alert and recognized the word Haufbrauhaus and told him that we were on our way there too and he could come with us. At this point the Japanese guy got very excited and thanked us and then started waving behind him. The next thing I knew we were surrounded by about thirty Japanese college students. They were all quite petite, well dressed in matching polo shirts and Dockers pants with expensive shoes so I figured they were also quite affluent.

We marched like a merry band to the Haufbrauhaus, which did not disappoint in size. It is huge and has several floors. The OomPa band was playing as well and the big bar maids were everywhere hands filled with giant mugs of beer.

We managed to find two tables next to each other and all sat down together as a group. The first thing we found out about them was that most of them spoke English so it was not difficult to communicate. They also spoke several other languages including German. It made me ashamed to be so barely bi-lingual but friendship is the international language and we had fun. We shared all kinds of stories about our cultures and different ways of life. We talked about school and course matter and prerequisites, parents, pets, siblings, it was all the usual stuff and very enlightening. They all smoked cigarettes too which rather surprised me. Back in those days, though I had quit smoking and John had never smoked, we liked to join people we met in various countries and smoke their local cigarettes. I had a pack of Gitanes from France on me that evening. One student offered me one of his Japanese cigarettes in exchange for an American one but all I could offer were the Gitanes. He was fine with that but really wanted a Marlborough.

What was truly amazing was how much they could drink! I can put down a lot of beer and so can John but these students blew us out of the water the way they could drink beer. They were practicing drinking down the entire liter in one giant gulp and most of them succeeded. I've never seen anything like it. One tiny little gal showed me the proper way to do it by wrapping my hand palm down on the left side of the mug, then turning my wrist 180 degrees and bringing the mug to my mouth with my hand backwards. I don't know where she learned this but it wasn't easy since the mugs alone weighed a ton. I tried to drink it all but didn't even come close. Besides I had to go to the bathroom after every beer so I wasn't in a big hurry to finish a beer.

Our new found friends really cut loose that night. I could tell they didn't get a chance to do this very often. One guy was taking notes all night writing down new English words we would say and then translate for him. But most of them were laughing and having a good time.

At the table to my right sat three old men smoking cigars and playing cards. The man sitting next to me finally asked me a question. He asked where I was from. I told him California. He quipped, "That's funny, you don't look Japanese". I didn't like him. It felt like an insult of sorts. I believed he was insulting us for hanging out with the Japanese. Later he said he had been sitting at that same table for 43 years. I nodded and then asked John if we could scootch over further. That guy had been sitting at that table during World War II and had no doubt favored the Nazis if not one himself. It gave me a very uncomfortable feeling. I hoped that he and his cronies were not going to be mean to our Japanese friends but it appeared that they prefered to stay in the shadows watching in a creepy manner.

After carrousing for the entire evening we finally said goodbye to our Japanese friends and wished them well. They bowed to us, which was pretty cool, and gave us gifts. One guy gave me his entire pack of Japanese cigarettes and another gave me a guide book. I liked them a lot and still remember to this day the pleasure of spending an unexpected evening with new friends. We never saw or heard from any of them again but the memories stay with us and every time I think of the Haufbrauhaus I think of being with a group of lively and highly educated Japanese students. And that's not a bad thing.

Scholl