Day 9 - Genoa and a wheelchair

Down to see the Doc first thing this morning. Filled out lots of insurance forms yesterday and Steven talked to Linda, our travel agent about what needs to be cancelled. Doc talked to Dr. Mark in Geneva and they’ve decided an Aircast is good to get me home. It’s a walking cast, sort of. Hurts to walk yet, but I took some ibuprophen and we’ll see what happens when it kicks in. Still need the cane to help take some of the weight off the foot.

Doesn’t change our plans to come home on Saturday. I want to see Ireland, but not this way. Would rather wait and see it later when I can walk unimpaired. Steven and I talked of the Stages of Grief over breakfast and realized we’d gone through most of them already. It isn’t always linear, so I still get a little emotional at times, but mostly? I’m good. I’m no longer angry at myself for being a klutz.

I mean, let’s put it in perspective. I didn’t break my leg tripping over a kitchen chair or because I stumbled in the garden. I broke my leg hiking on freaking Mount Vesuvius!!! I broke it while doing something fun, something wonderful. I broke it on an adventure.

tugboats in the Genoa harbor

Steven’s gone on a recon mission into Genoa, our port today. We’re docked at the Ponte Andrea Doria, which I hope is not a bad sign. If the roads/sidewalks are good, he’ll wheel me in so I can see at least a little more of the city than I can from the ship. But if they’re all cobbles like they were in Rome and much of Palermo, I’m staying put. No sense in rattling my teeth out, too.

12:30 pm

A building in Genoa - but you can see the efforts made to fix up

What a pleasant morning! Steven came back with a pamphlet for a bus tour that went around the city. About a 45 minute tour, it picked up right at the end of the dock and had a boot in which to store my wheelchair (yes, they use the English “boot” instead of the American “trunk”). So, I dressed (i.e. put my skirt on over my shorts) got in my chariot and away we went!

The tour was quite informative (and stuck to the route on the map!) and I took lots of pictures. It didn’t, however, drop us off at our dock, but at the entrance to the old city. No way was the wheelchair going to make those streets, so Steven wheeled me back to our dock – a distance of about a mile around the bay. There was one spot that had a hill going up and I got out and put that Aircast to good use. A handrail alongside helped and I climbed up the ramp myself. Was glad to sit again at the top, though.

Back on board we had pizza for lunch – I walked the 100 feet from our room to a table poolside and we met our nurse from the first day. She was thrilled to see me up with the Aircast and somewhat mobile. I say “somewhat” because a snail could beat me in a race right about now. I think we made the right decision in not going on to Ireland. Walking hurts some (4-5 on the pain scale; not excruciating, but not that pleasant, either) and we’d planned a LOT of walking in the Emerald Isle. Although we did have a nice poetry going: the Emerald Princess to the Emerald Isle. :)

This is a great example of tromp d'oil - that entire facade is painted!

Steven went back out in the afternoon and managed to get himself lost on purpose. He wanted to get off the main streets and see the “real” Genoa. And it isn’t hard to find your way back to the sea – just head down. In his explorations he managed to down two gelatos (melon and a deep, dark chocolate that was so dark it was almost black) and a cannoli. Ah, Italians do know how to make a good dessert!

He also spoke Italian most of the time. He didn’t have to say much, just speaking to shopkeepers, but he said he almost felt he could pass as a local. Not hard to believe. He’s tanned right up with our days here and with his hair short and all curly, he looks as Italian as the statues in the piazzas and the shopkeepers themselves. He feels at home here, and that makes me feel proud. He fits here.

I could fit here, too, but I’d always be the American. I’ve spoken some Italian with people and I’m pretty sure I have an American accent when I do. I have the sounds, I just don’t have the music.

But is okay – is an adventure!

 Play safe!

Diana

Day 8 - Livorno and Florence

If you haven't already read about the happenings on Mt. Vesuvius, I suggest you do so before reading this post. Otherwise, some of what's below won't make much sense.

*** 

The dock at Livorno from our stateroom balcony

I reached the acceptance stage this morning. Losing the Ireland part of the trip was the cause of some tears and I realized I was going through the seven stages of grief. I was in denial for most of yesterday, thinking we could still go, just slower. This morning I realized how ridiculous that was. Cried some, but have now let it go. I will go to Ireland, just not now.

Florence for Steven. I can’t go, obviously, but I was insistent on his going to see the Uffizi. An art gallery I would’ve gone through in an hour he now could spend the entire day visiting.

My day was relaxing. The ship held two emergency drills for the crew – one simulating a fire in a cabin on a deck below this one and the other a lifeboat drill where they actually lowered the lifeboats on the starboard side. We’re on portside, so I didn’t get to see it, but it was fun to listen to all the announcements as they went through each part of the drill. Later I asked Maria, our cabin maid, how it went and she said the part she was involved in went very smoothly. Good to know they’re on top of things!

When it was over, I called down for room service for my lunch; he said not all his crew was back from the drill yet, so it might be 25 minutes. It was only 20. When the waiter realized I had a cast on, he asked what happened and was quite sympathetic.

flowers from the crew!

I read a book I’d gotten from the library: Match Me if You Can by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. Chick lit. Not my ordinary fare, but hey, it took me away for the day. From my balcony I can see the port of Livorno and some of the old city but not much. I did see a tall ship entering the harbor this afternoon, though. That was very cool.

The same security officer from yesterday came up to take pictures of my shoes (my “slippers” as he keeps calling them – his English isn’t very good). And I had one other visitor: two representatives from Passenger Services stopped by and brought me a bouquet of flowers – three roses with baby’s breath – and a get well wish. I thought that was so sweet!

My candle at the Church of San Croce

Steven got back around 5:30. We both cried over the things he saw: Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, the graves of both Galileo and Michelangelo (He lit a candle for me beside Galileo’s grave and one for his mom at the statue of Mary in the Church of San Croce). He also had three gelatos throughout the day and one very large pizza. I’d asked him to buy some specific items for the kids and he found them along with a Pinocchio ornament for our tree. Turns out Geppetto was from Florence!

He’s gone down now to see the doc and find out if she managed to talk with Dr. Mark. I’ve finally accepted that we’re going home from Barcelona. Ireland will have to wait a little longer.

Play safe - and walk carefully,

Diana

Day 7 - at sea

At sea.

I have, at long last, completed one of the items on my bucket list: I have been so far out to sea that I cannot see land in any direction.

It isn’t that I didn’t know what such a thing would look like. One only has to stand on the shore of Lake Ontario and look northward, then extrapolate from there. And I suppose, on our Alaska trip, we were at one point far enough out that land couldn’t be seen, but if we were, it happened at night and I didn’t see it, so it doesn’t count.

It’s more the vastness that I wanted to experience. To look out and not see any land is to see just how big the world really is. Even though this ship is huge, especially when viewed up close in port, out here it is nothing when compared to the sea.

And the blueness. No wonder sailors were thrilled to see green upon reaching land again. The sun is out today (as it has been every day – the weather has been spectacularly wonderful) which makes the sea a brilliant blue. Steven’s eyes take on this color sometimes. Perhaps I shall have to start calling them “Mediterranean Blue.”

This was an at-sea day, so not much going on. Because of my broken leg, I mostly stayed in the cabin with it up. Steven did go down for the art auction just to see how one is run. Four-thirty saw us at sickbay again to speak with the doctor. She’d lost the information Steven had given her about Dr. Mark so she tried a conference call to him while we were there. He was in surgery and then the connection was lost when she was speaking to the nurse. She tried several times to get it back to get an email address, but couldn’t establish a connection.

I had to give one of the ship’s security officers a report – no, he didn’t wear a red shirt. J I assured him I have no intention of suing the cruise line. Steven decided the ISIS terrorists are at fault. If they hadn’t attacked the Bardo in Tunis, we’d have stopped there and I never would’ve been on Mount Vesuvius to begin with!

AAA had arranged for a complimentary dinner in one of the swankier restaurants on the ship, so we ate at the Crown Grill. Our waiter was a very earnest young Indian who was quite competent and adorable. He’s probably not any older than Ben.

By the time we got back to the room, I was exhausted. Took two blue Tylenol and was out for the night.

Play safe,

Diana

Addendum to Pompeii NSFW!

WARNING!!! THESE PICS ARE NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!!

What I found most fascinating about this city is the fact that is WAS a city. A thriving place filled with everyday life. From the grooves in the stones from the wagon wheels (how hard must driving have been with THOSE in the street???), to the "fast food" places that lined a thoroughfare, Pompeii could be any one of a number of cities today (although today we call those grooves "potholes").

While the gymnasium and the his and her saunas intrigued me and the one restored villa amazed me for it's simplicity and beautiful murals, it was the house of the courtesans that tickled my fancy the most. The world's oldest profession fully recognized and totally not hidden, as sex wasn't something to be ashamed of. And, if I'm not mistaken, both men and women used the services of these houses.

But the part that made me giggle like a schoolgirl was the "menu" on the walls. Up above the alcoves used for sex are a set of frescoes depicting all sorts of interlocking sexual positions. A customer would come in, point to the position desired and the transaction was made.



(NOTE: These pictures were taken with our Samsung Note4 cameras. No flash was used as flash photography is forbidden; it will damage the frescoes).

I love it! How easy - and there could be no arguments since the customer made the choice ahead of time. So logical. Takes the passion out in one way, adds it in another. Calculating - you know what you're going to get. Passionate - a chance to try something new!

And this last picture - a phallic symbol no one disputes. It did not, however, advertise the house of courtesans, but was the universal symbol for an apothecary. Need some help performing in the above house? Come here and get your aphrodisiac! Of course, you could get all sorts of other medicines and ointments here as well, but the fact that they use a raised penis as the advertisement bemuses me. :)

Just had to share!

Play safe,
Diana

Day 6 - Mt. Vesuvius and Pompeii

Naples today. We bought a shore excursion to hike to the top of Mount Vesuvius and then visit Pompeii. The volcano is visible from the city of Naples – in fact, it dominates the view. There is actually a second volcano next to it (named Somma), also active, that used to be the taller of the two. But it blew thousands of years ago and the ash from it made the more famous of the two volcanoes higher.

The drive up consists of a series of very sharp, very narrow hairpin turns. I lost count of how many, but there were a lot. The bus took us to 1000 feet below the rim and dropped us off. Because there’d been a lot of traffic getting out of Naples, we only had an hour and a half to go that 1000 feet and get back.

Looks like we'll fall off at the top!
(that's me in the purple - my husband always likes to get my good side!)

Sounds easy enough, yes? Remember those hairpin turns the bus took? Same philosophy regarding getting altitude here. Not straight up, but winding around and back and around again. The incline was about what it is coming from the stream up to the cabin back home. Sometimes not so steep, sometimes steeper.

Looking down into the mouth of the volcano - all quiet today, thank goodness!

It took me a long time to climb to the rim of the caldera, but I did it. We both did. The view from above is amazing but what struck me was how many people stand to lose everything they have when it blows again. Because it will. In fact, it’s overdue. I know there are evacuation plans and the expectation is there will be about a 20-day warning, but still. Why build where it will be destroyed? All along that mountain road are the ruins from the last eruption in 1946.

There is a valley the lava flowed along that year that is starting to come back to life. A gray lichen appears first – a lichen that only grows on Mount Vesuvius. As it goes through its life cycle, it builds up on the cooled lava and creates a thin layer of dirt that small flowers use. They die, add to the soil and larger flowers grow, then bushes and finally, trees. Right now the hillsides are covered with Jupiter’s Beard and Broom bushes, both in bloom.

Naples from the top of Mount Vesuvius

And then of course, what comes up must come down. The descent went faster than the ascent. Right up until the second-to-last hairpin turn. I was watching where I put my feet since the volcanic ash is like walking on black sand with the occasional pebble and rock thrown in for good measure.

You guessed it. I found one of the rocks. I went down fast and a nice gentleman on his way up lent me his hand as did Steven. My ankle hurt but I knew I hadn’t twisted it. Thought I’d pulled a muscle. Made it back to the bus (which was parked quite a ways down the road) and explained to Roberta, our tour guide, that I’d fallen.

She got me ice when we got to Pompeii while the others got their gelato or soft drink (Steven brought me a wonderful vanilla gelato with chocolate chips). He then went in search of a cane for me, paid an inordinate amount of money for it and I used it on our tour. The uneven streets made it a challenge and it hurt if I stepped wrong but I made it through. Several of the others on the bus called me a “trooper” for coming along.

Me, standing in an ancient theatre!

The ruins were covered under 20 feet of ash – its amazing the city was ever found. The murals on the walls are beautiful and must’ve been incredible when new. To stand in a actual Roman theatre (they have two) brought me back to my Intro to Theatre course. And here I stood, in the orchestra of one over 2500 years old walking on the very stones of actors who came before.

We ended with some of the plaster casts of those who died that awful day in 74 BCE. The first was of a dog, one who couldn’t run away because he’d been tied to a tree. The second was of a young boy, kneeling with his hands over his mouth and nose, the third was of a very young child who looked as though she’d been sleeping.

It was the boy who got me. I could see him in my mind, in his last moments as the ash fell, inching over his feet. His hands clasped over his nose, trying not to breathe in the powdery stuff. His cast moved me the most.

Back on the bus, back to the harbor. Found a pizza place and had Napolese pizza Margarita. It was wonderful.

And then on board and up to the room. I had an egg on the side of my foot that was quite large. Steven got me some ice and I iced it for 20 minutes. But having the shoe off allowed the swelling to increase and Steven got worried so he made me go down to sickbay. For good measure, the ship’s doctor made me get X-rays.

Yep. Issa broke. Not the ankle, but the lower part of the femur. In two places, no less.

They put my foot in a cast up to my knee. A partial cast, not hard in the front in case there is swelling.

This has put our whole trip into jeopardy. We’re going to do a conference call with Dr. Mark back in Geneva to see if I can go with this type of cast for the remainder of the vacation. I’m wheelchair bound in any case. We will see what we will see.

Play safe...and walk carefully!

Diana

Day 5 - Palermo, Sicily

Disembarked around 10:30 this morning and caught a trolley that purported to go around the city of Palermo and show an overview of the sites. About forty-five mintues long, it would drop  us back where we started. They provided a map with numbers and a key showing what each major point was.

Nearly every building on the side streets
has balconies!

Unfortunately, the driver apparently didn’t have the map. After the second spot on the map, he went his own way. The voice-over that played was in four languages, English being the last. But the speaker’s heavy Italian accent made it difficult to understand. A British man in the back complained (loudly) that there WAS no English explanation. I was so glad he was British and not American!

I gave up trying to follow along and just watched the city go by. It IS beautiful, in a very different way. Quite metropolitan, the traffic is almost as bad as Rome, but the mixture of old and new is more integrated. Towards the end of WWII, the Allies bombed the heck out of the port area and some buildings, seventy years later, are still not repaired. Nor are they monuments or museums to the past. They’re just there, the street-level floor still in use (mostly storefronts), but the top of the building in bombed-out ruins.

In fact, it came as a bit of surprise to me to realize that Italians did not fight on our side during that war. They were one of the Axis powers and under Fascist rule. I’m so used to thinking of Italy as a part of Steven’s heritage, it was a bit of a shock to see those bombed buildings and know we did that to them.

Steven’s great-grandparents walked these streets. This is a city of balconies and we saw a little girl on one of them, all by herself, stooping down with her arm through the spaces, waiting for a woman underneath to pass. When she did, the little girl opened her hand and a flower petal floated down. Steven and I both chuckled. Some things are universal.

I have to record the eerie/normal event. Eerie because it borders the supernatural, normal because – well, stuff like this has happened before. Often.

Before we left home, Steven went through a few of his old wallets, deciding on a thin canvas one that would easily slide into his moneybelt. He checked the slots and found them empty, so he filled them with his credit cards and put some paper money in the fold.

He uses this wallet in Niagara Falls, Toronto, and Rome. We’re in Rome, after having visited the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel. Back at the hotel and he’s checking to see how much money he has left (it was an expensive day). He sees a side pocket he hadn’t noticed before and slides a finger in to see if there’s anything there.

There is.

A picture of his mother.

Like I said, supernatural for some, normal for us. Like finding wine in Alaska with Michele’s name on the label. Like all the pennies his mom used to find on his father’s gravestone. I have no doubt, Nina Ingandello Duprey is visiting Palermo, home of her grandparents, right along with us.

My zucchini something

Right now, I’m sitting in a sidewalk café, having just finished something I’ve never had before. At home I’d call it a pizza with zucchini on it, but here it had a different name that started with an “f”. But he said it fast and I didn’t catch the whole word. A pizza dough bottom with butter on top and thinly-sliced zucchini. Steven had the regular pizza, which had a very thick dough. Both are served in rectangles and cut into small pieces you eat with a fork.

Steven, having finished his meal, is now across the via, painting in the piazza. I took some pictures from here. The trees have beautiful purple blossoms on them but we’re not sure what they are. Steven thinks they might be Jacaranda trees, but we’ll have to see. Me? I’m still in the café, listening to the Italian being spoken around me and just watching all the people go by. It’s a Sunday, but there are tourists all over the place as well as natives. There is a large population of Indians here as well. They’re the ones selling all the selfie sticks and other junk.

The cafe where I sit while Steven
paints

So far, no one has asked me to leave, although my lunch is obviously done and my Coke-a-Cola can is empty. I seem to remember something I read that said you are encouraged to linger…to not rush from the restaurant. I hope that’s true. I can’t see Steven from where I am, although I’m pretty sure I could find him if needed. How many painters would there be in a two-block piazza? Before we head back to the ship, I’ll take a picture of the two points of interest in this area.

Another point to note: There are police EVERYWHERE. Both Rome and Palermo have a heavy police/army presence. We’ve seen several military buildings and the Carabinieri are parked not fifty feet from me. And they carry machine guns. These are not guys to cross.

You know, now that I think on it. I’m in an Italian city all by myself. It’s very cool to sit here, typing away, not understanding but one word in a hundred spoken around me and know I can survive.

There is a typical Italian scene happening now. A car wants a spot right beside me, but another car is there already, blinkers on to show the driver won’t be long. The car that wants the spot is continually beeping its horn to get the person to hurry up. Turns out there is a driveway right next to the garage. Vendors were in front of it, so I didn’t notice until the car pulled up onto the sidewalk. I’d seen the two vendors move their stuff but didn’t realize the gate behind them led to a private parking area behind the buildings.

The park where Steven is painting; the
view from the cafe

I’ve decided I never want to drive in Italy. They’re nuts! Steven says there are no rules; there are, they’re just not adhered to quite as rigidly as they are in the States. If I DID drive, I’d want a Segway (we’ve seen several). It would be the most sane way to get around. I might learn to drive a Vespa – they’re pretty cool, too. But they dart in and out of traffic and I’d probably zig when I should zag and that would be the end of the Vespa (or me!).

Hmmm….all the two-person Vespas I’ve seen have the man in front and the woman behind. Although a lot of women solo on them as well.

A note about the dogs: There are several and not always on leashes. And yet, my dog-dar has gone off only once. So far they’re all well-behaved and don’t approach. Or if they do, it’s more out of friendly curiosity.

LOL Okay, so I’m sitting alone at this table and the place is getting busy. No one, however, has asked me to leave, although if I find a waiter again, I’ll get another Coke. Two very Italian women asked if they could share my table and we had a good conversation, sort of. They speak very little English and I have very little Italian. But we made friends and they now think I’m from New York City (EVERYONE thinks we’re from the city when we say we’re from New York). It’s okay. They think they met a cosmopolitan and I’m okay with that. Started a new story based on that incident. We’ll see if it goes anywhere.

Later, back on the ship.

Got back to the ship around 2:00 in the afternoon. Took pictures of the big cliff outside our veranda again – interesting lighting change from morning to afternoon.

Steven had quite the audience as he painted in the park. A few boys watched him from beginning to end and wanted him to paint in some cabo (horses). He drew a crowd, a few of whom asked him if he planned to sell it. He’s not happy with the painting, said he felt rushed. It’s pretty flat in perspective and I suspect he’ll do another version when we get home and he can take his time.

On our way back down the street (literally down – Palermo is not flat at all) to the dock we stopped because Steven wanted a gelato. I was still full from lunch and didn’t want anything until I saw the cannoli. Yum. I could only eat half, though, so it was a good thing I had my husband with me to finish it off. J

Play safe and happy travels!

Diana

Day Four - Citaveccia and the Emerald Princess

The top of the building is covered in solar cells

We are now onboard the Emerald Princess. Steven’s out exploring the ship and I have my feet up on the balcony while typing this. We currently overlook the dock and I can see the hills of Italy in the distance – behind the gas and oil tanks that fuel Italy. There is a large, two story warehouse beside the dock and the roof is covered entirely with solar cells. Much nicer to look at than the huge oil tanks.

I have to say, we handled the jet lag really, really well. All the advice I’d read said to stay up until a normal bedtime the first day and the lag wouldn’t be bad. Good advice. I didn’t turn out the light last night until 10:00 pm (Rome time) – which meant I’d been up for about 48 hours with only the cat naps on the plane for rest. Steven fell asleep a little earlier, but we both slept well and were up by 7:30 this morning feeling normal and adjusted. Yeah, yeah. There’s a first time for everything. Felt odd to look at my computer clock (which didn’t update) and see that it was only 3:00 in the morning at home and everyone there was still sound asleep.

Breakfast at the hotel was a little different. Pastries as one would expect, but also cheeses (I had provolone. This is, after all, Italy) and some sliced meats. I didn’t go for the salami but chose the one with white spots. Figured I was being adventurous. Try New Things. That’s my motto for this trip. To that end, I got the juice marked “Anana” instead of the safer orange juice. It was a banana/pinapple blend that was quite good. And the spotted meat? Bologna.

We then left to do a short walking tour since we had two hours before the shuttle came to pick us up. Went around the corner to the Trevi fountain only to discover they are doing renovations on it. No coins in the fountain for us. We do want to come back, however, and have already decided a week will be just enough to see the Vatican. We’ll need a second week to see Rome as we’d like.

Temple ruins - Rome

Since we had the time, we decided to walk to a spot where we could see the Coliseum. The map was our friend this time and we didn’t get lost, even though some of the streets were VERY narrow. Turns out the area from which we thought we could see it was the beginning of the Roman Forum ruins. We glimped the Coliseum in the distance, but a closer visit will have to wait for next time.

We headed back to the hotel, retracing our steps as we went. Good thing we did. Our driver, who wasn’t supposed to pick us up until 11:00, was there at ten. It was now quarter after and the hotel had us leaving at 10:30. So a time snafu, but all worked well (this time!). We’d packed up before we’d left on our walk so all we needed to do was double check the room and bring down the luggage.

Another couple was already on board; they’re from California and took three days in Rome to handle the jet lag. I felt like a pro taking no time at all. Two other stops gathered in a gentleman originally from Scotland who now lives in Australia and a young couple we didn’t get to talk to as the only seats left were at the front of the van with the driver. Who looked like George Clooney’s stand in, by the way. Not much of a personality, but boy, he looked good!

The breakwall between us and the Mediterranean Sea

The trip out to Citavecchia (the port city that supplies Rome) took a little over an hour once everyone was onboard. Check-in went smoothly, although so far my little red bag hasn’t made it to the room. All the other luggage is here. We’ll keep a good thought that it’s on its way.

The ship is MUCH larger than the Statendamm (our Holland America ship for our Alaska trip) but our room is smaller. About the size of our hotel room in Rome, with the addition of a balcony (that is also smaller than the one on the Statendamm). Still, here I sit, my feet up and looking out at the hills in the distance. Not one complaint from me!

We ate a buffet-lunch – all dinners are included but drinks are not. Not even soft drinks. Same as last time. That’s fine. I mostly drink water nowadays anyway.

Oh! Speaking of water…on our way to the Vatican yesterday, we passed a spigot/fountain right in the middle of a small plaza. Amy Plowe told us Rome’s water is safe to drink, so we filled up our empty water bottle and drank Rome water the rest of the night. So far, so good! J

I can’t post this from the ship. You’d think, with the amount of money we’re paying to BE on this ship that the wifi would be free and automatic. It ain’t and I ain’t paying. They need to get with the times! Will post when we land in Palermo tomorrow. I’m sure I can find wifi on land.

There is a big, digital outdoor screen on the Lido deck (our deck) and the show movies at night. Tonight was the Imitation Game – Steven has seen it, but I haven’t. We went to the 10:00 showing. Excellent film!

Tomorrow – Palermo, Sicily! 

Day Three - Roma!

We didn’t spend a lot of time in the hotel room before heading out into the city. We had 3:00 pm tickets for the Vatican Museums and the Sistine Chapel and it was nearly 2:00 by the time we got our clothes changed. The Vatican has strict dress codes and we planned for this.

The walk from our hotel was 2.8 km, according to Google. Should take us about 45 minutes, we figured. Got directions from the hotel clerk, walked out of the hotel and were lost within two blocks. Apparently the streets (vias) change names every other block, so the street you were just on isn’t called by that a block later, but your map doesn’t necessarily tell you of the name change.

Add to that the fact that the Romans don’t know what a right angle is. Not one single via in the old part of the city comes into another at a right angle. Obtuse, acute…yeah, they’ve got those covered! But right? Nah…why go 90 degrees when you could go 100?

The cobbles close up; the white
line separates the pedestrians from
the traffic. Yeah, right.

And then there are the slate cobbles that make up the street paving. Steven thinks they’re really old, I think they’re not. Just blocks of unmortared stone (I *think* it’s slate, but  they’re pretty thick) that are about 6 inches square and are worn down and uneven. And slippery. As in your shoes slide right off them like you’re skating down the street, pushing off from every step.

Suffice it to say, dress black flats are NOT the shoes to walk through Rome in. I purposely didn’t wear my comfortable sneakers because of the Vatican’s dress protocols. Had the roads been concrete, I think I would’ve been okay, but that slate…did I mention it was slippery? No blisters, but very, very sore feet. Steven’s pedometer says he walked 10 miles today. I’m good with that. It certainly felt like ten miles.

The Vatican Museum is filled with lots of cool stuff. Statues I’ve only seen pictures of staring down at you from their lofty heights, Roman mosaic floors that are thousands of years old – and we’re walking on them! Frescos by Raphael, tapestries from the 1600’s – wood carvings on the doors that are stunning.

But all this, of course, is just stuff you “get through” to “get to” the piece de resistance: the Sistine Chapel. While Michelangelo wasn’t the only one to paint frescos on the walls, his are the most famous. And the Vatican Museum curators aren’t stupid: you have to go through everything else first before you can get to what everyone wants to see. Because it was so late in the afternoon, we rushed and didn't even stop to take any pictures.

The Sistine Chapel is a holy space and security personnel are adamant: NO CAMERAS. Period. No flash, no still cameras, no movie cameras, regardless of size. Silence or quiet whispering is allowed, nothing full voice.

Once you are in, you are expected to just be. To rest in the Holy Spirit, as it were. We had audio guides and only used them to listen to the pieces o the Chapel. When done, since my feet hurt, I went over to the side and waited for space to open up on the bench that runs the circumference of the room. These are the same benches the Cardinals sit on when voting for a new pope! I don’t think my girl-cooties contaminated the bench, though.

Once seated, however, the room takes on a different feel. I sat back and just…looked. The colors, the themes…it’s a very peaceful place. You wouldn’t think it, to look at The Last Judgment on the entire back wall, but it is peaceful. Everyone gets what’s owed him or her, yes, but ultimately, the ceiling and the wall tell the story of man’s redemption. Of being saved by the coming of the Messiah.

We spent over half an hour there. I didn’t expect to be moved by it…after all, we’ve all seen the pictures. Over and over again. How many jokes have come out of Adam’s lazy finger just barely touching God’s?

And yet, to stand there, looking up at the original in the original setting…it all makes sense. It’s beautiful. The colors, the shadings, all the techniques amaze me, who has no talent with painting let alone fresco work. But it’s more than the technique and it’s more than the subject matter. It’s also the history, the stories of Michelangelo’s troubles in painting it that have been handed down, embellished and handed down again. It’s all the history of the Catholic church – both good and bad – rolled into one room.

And I stood it in today and yes, I cried, touched by the enormity of all it represented.

Play safe, 

Diana

Day Two-- and into Three

Thursday, May 28, 2015 into Friday, May 29, 2015

When last I left you, Steven and I were sitting in Toronto’s Pierson Airport, waiting for our Air Canada flight to Rome. The boarding went well and everyone settled in for a long flight (7 and a half hours). Once again we went west in order to go east, taking off on time at 8:15 pm, right into the sunset. Once turned around over Lake Ontario, we flew over the water, picking up the St. Lawrence Seaway and, for the most part, staying in Canadian airspace. By the time we got to Montreal, the lights had come on in the city. Ottawa passed by in a twinkle of lights as well and then the shades were pulled, the lights dimmed and we settled in to sleep.

Yeah. Not so much. I dozed off and on for about an hour, even though I could barely keep my eyes open. Had taken a sleeping aid and it was working but I couldn’t get comfortable so didn’t really fall into a deep sleep. Steven was awake longer, but when I woke up around one AM Eastern, he was asleep and stayed that way while I watched Enchanted. Something light that didn’t make me think very hard. J Fell asleep after for nearly an hour.

They’d fed us dinner of a sorts shortly after take-off – a choice of Shepherd’s Pie or Baked Chicken. We both chose the latter. The brownie for dessert was good. Come morning, they also gave us “breakfast” which consisted of one slice of a really awful banana bread and a juice of our choice. I ate half before giving up but Steven ate all of his slice.

Snow-covered Alps

We made good time over the Atlantic (I say as if I had anything to do with it!). The shades went up just in time to see the snow-topped mountains of the Alps. Unexpected surprise and a fun way to start the morning. I changed the time on my watch and Steven changed his phone so we’re both on Rome time now.

Because we made such good time, the Rome airport didn’t have a gate for us so we had to sit on the plane for a while. I didn’t mind, actually. I fell asleep. Deep asleep. A restful sleep. Turns out we were stuck for 45 minutes and even then they didn’t have a gate for us, so we deplaned out in the middle of nowhere and they bussed us to the airport proper.

Customs was easy; I now have a stamp in my Passport! It’s pretty unremarkable, though. Just a date stamp. No country, no emblem. Just a few numbers. I’m tempted to write “Italy” next to it, but that might get me in trouble.

It was at this point our adventure started. We had booked a ride from the airport to the hotel; he was supposed to meet us a half an hour after the plane landed. He’d wait for an hour and a half and then go onto his next assignment. Well, we sat on the runway for 45 minutes, then took nearly 25 getting through the customs line, then waited another 45 minutes for our one checked bag to come circling ‘round on the carrousel. By the time we got to the meet-up point, he was gone. We called the number we were given and got a message “that number is not in service”.

A taxi driver approached Steven and poached us. We were happy to be poached. He brought us right to our hotel, pointing out a few sites along the way (we passed Palatine Hill…a spot I didn’t think we’d get to see!). Cost us, of course, but we were here! In Roma!

A note about the traffic and the cars: okay, a few notes. First off, there are a LOT of cars. Mostly little ones (Smart Cars can fit sideways along the curb and take up the same room as a pick-up truck, did you know that? I saw it today!) and a lot of motorcycles. A few Vespa-types, but a lot of regular motorcycles, but a lot quieter.

Park wherever . Note the sign for the Trevi Fountain on the right.

Second, where Toronto was super-organized with its “Collectors” and “Express lanes” – Italy is the exact opposite. There are no lanes. For anything. Even the expressway in from the airport are more suggestions than real lanes. Drivers go wherever the car will fit. So you go to make a left and three cars (our taxi was one of them), are all pulled up in a line. Not an end-to-end line like you’d see at an American intersection where the first one there is the first one through. No. These three cars are pulled up SIDE-BY-SIDE and it’s a race to see which one’s going to go first.

Third, blinkers are optional. I think our driver put them on just to make us feel better. Mostly he put it on as he was making the turn, not before it to warn others…but as he did it as if giving a confirmation of something already taking place.

But we made it to the hotel Residenza Antica in one piece and only a few white-knuckle moments. Its crazy, but it works for them!

Day two - in Toronto

We have an entire day in Toronto before out flight leaves. Well, almost an entire day. Have arranged for a late check-out with the hotel but we still have to be gone by 3:00 and we don't need to be at the airport until five. As we did 34 years ago, we are going to visit Casa Loma, a beautifully restored mansion in the heart of this metropolitan city. Built by Sir Henry Pellat in the late 1800's on less than 100 acres of land, the city has grown up around it. I remember driving down a fairly normal residential street and poof! Suddenly there's a castle off to the left.

Casa Loma from the front

According to Google, Casa Loma was a quick, 28-minute drive from our hotel. We left around 8:15 with the intent to stop at Tim Horton’s for breakfast along the way. Figured the places were ubiquitous enough we could easily find one.

One problem. Steven forgot to pack a certain essential piece of clothing for himself. Going commando might be an option every once in a while, but not for nearly three weeks. A trip to a store was in order.

The skylight in the conservatory

So we got onto the 401 going West, as the directions on the Casa Loma website stated and Google (seemed to) corroborate. Quickly we realized the roads we were passing were not on our screen-saved map. Can’t use GPS here – we’d get roaming charges, so we’d taken a snapshot of the route and it didn’t match what we were passing. Plus, we were stuck in rush-hour traffic, so things moved slowly.

Got off to turn around and found, believe it or not, a Walmart. Good place for Steven to pick up some Fruit of the Looms! And a Tim Horton’s on the corner made this a lucky choice for a turn around. Turned out to be the last bit of luck for the next several hours.

Do you know what a “connector” is in regards to Canadian traffic? Yeah, neither did we. Turns out the “Express” lanes are for through traffic and “Connectors” are off-ramps that are actually expressways that run BESIDE the expressway. Groups of streets are lumped together and, if you want to exit on one of them, you get off on the appropriate Connector, follow it for several kilometers and, eventually, your off-ramp will appear…three lanes over and with not enough time to get there.

Suffice it to say, a 45-minute ride took us just under two hours. Besides the expressway confusion, there were roads closed (some due to construction, others because they’re filming something big here at the moment). But we got to Casa Loma and took a deep breath. Adventure to get here – adventure awaiting!

Half expected to see Professor X wheeling down the hall!

We first visited on our honeymoon, thirty-three years, eleven months ago. It was run by the Kiwanis back then and very few people were in attendance the day we were there. Each room had a motion-sensor that activated a voice-over when you entered and the ghost of Sir Henry Pellat guided you through the mansion. It was a clever device and became the genesis of the Casa Loma dungeon Steven and wrote for D&D.

Three years ago, a private company bought it and has poured a great deal of money into its restoration and promotion. There were several busses of school groups there today and a LOT of tourists. The place was packed. The charming voice-over is gone and you can borrow an audio device, like the ones from art galleries, to listen to information about each room. While it was interesting, it was quite dry. I miss Sir Henry!

One of the cool additions was downstairs in the basement – a row of posters of films that used Casa Loma as part of their setting. The most famous one was X-men. Professor X’s study? The hall where the kids come out of the rooms? Yeah, filmed at Casa Loma. I know what I’ll be re-watching when I get home!

Ate lunch there in a nice little café in the basement (air-conditioned!). We got directions back to the 401 and, now knowing how the expressway works, made it back to the hotel fairly quickly. A change of clothes, a trip back to the car to drop off everything not going with us and then hopped on the shuttle to the airport.

Way too early, of course, to do anything. Hung out for about an hour, then checked our one and only piece of major luggage, got our carry-ons weighed and headed off to security. Steven made it through with no trouble. I got chosen for a full body scan. They gave me an option of a pat-down – but it was a woman so I declined and went for the scan instead. Where are the hot security guards when I need them???

And now we’re waiting for our flight, which doesn’t board for another hour and a half. Figured I’d take the time to bring the journal up-to-date. Not sure when I’ll be able to post again. If our hotel in Rome has free wi-fi, we’ll upload pictures from Rome, otherwise, I’ll keep writing off-line and post when we can.

Next stop, ROME!

Ciao and play safe,

Diana

On our way - first day out

What better way to start a trip to Europe but with a trip to Niagara Falls? We left the house about 8:45 this morning and drove the Thruway to the Falls. Goat Island and Terrapin Point, to be exact. We’d stopped on the Canadian side on our honeymoon thirty-three years, and eleven months ago to the day. We’re mixing it up a little bit by visiting only the American side this time.

This, actually, is a place we go often. My very first picture, ever was taken at Terrapin point. Well, it was actually of my mom, but I was in her belly! Naturally, when I was expecting my first child, my husband and I made the trek and took a picture of my pregnant self at the same spot where my mother had stood thirty-three years earlier. If my daughter has a child, she's already said she'd keep the tradition going. We only live about two hours away and you only have to pay for parking, so this was always a good day-away trip for our family.

The Top of the Falls restaurant, which is always packed when we visit, was just opening for lunch so we decided to eat there. We try to do something brand new every time we visit, so this was our new thing. We both had a burger, mine had a maple walnut cheddar cheese on it and it was yummy!

We headed around the end of the lake and got to our hotel, the airport Marriot, around 1:45 pm. 

Neither one of us wanted to sit in the room all afternoon, however, so we went to see Home at a mall nearby. The Woodbine Mall is opposite the Woodbine Raceway and is huge. After the movie, we wandered around, stopping at a dollar store for an extension cord so we can charge more than one device at a time at the bed and breakfasts. Steven bought some chocolate for the plane (and for later tonight!). At the food court we decided to get dinner and bring it back to the hotel since we were both getting hungry but didn’t want to eat right then. Went to the Bourbon St. Grill – which was entirely staffed by Chinese!

Now we’re in for the night, Steven watching Canadian TV and me typing up today’s journal. I also made an expenses section in my little black journal (thanks, Kim!) so we’ll know why we don’t have any money left by the time we get home.

Whee! On our way to Europe!

Look out Europe, here I come!

You may recall my recent post about the scent of cities, Rome in particular? Well, I'm here to make my report.

We visited several cities in Italy, one in France and one in Spain over the past week and each had their own distinctive feel. Only one had distinctive scents that made me sit up and take notice: Genoa, and there were two.

The first was by the harbor, which we walked almost from end to end. We'd docked already in several cities by that point, but this was the first time I got a real whiff of the sea. A slightly fishy smell that wasn't unpleasant at all. It reminded me of walks along Lake Ontario when I was a kid. The second odor was more modern: car fumes. Genoa is a more modern city in Italy - mostly because the Allies (us) bombed the hell out of it during WWII and they have rebuilt much of it. There was also a city plan put into place in the mid to late 1800's that brought in a lot of Romanesque influences - and made for somewhat wider streets than we've seen in other Italian cities. This has allowed for more cars, busses, trucks - you name it, they're driving through the streets. Several marble facades are now black with the exhaust of so many vehicles.

But I never noticed anything else in the way of olfactory delights or distresses in any other place we went. After all, gelato doesn't have a scent...and we ate a LOT of gelato! A friend of mine had told me we should never pass a gelato stand without having some - and we took her advice to heart.

I've kept a journal of our trip and, over the next few days, I'll post the highlights here, now that I have a good Internet source.

For now, arrevederci and, Play safe!
Diana

Visions of the Future

Just saw the movie, Tomorrowland and had to take time to put down my reactions. Minor spoilers ahead.

What has happened to our visions of the future? This question is posed early in Tomorrowland, Disney’s latest live-action movie. The exposition starts at the World’s Fair of 1964 with all the optimism and hopes for a “great big beautiful tomorrow” and contrasts it with our world vision today.

The hopes and fears of a society are often reflected in its literature and much of today’s young adult reading is dystopian. The Hunger Games, the Divergent series, and The Maze Runner, all paint a pretty bleak future that needs to be overcome or corrected. Even The Lego Movie, which is geared for little kids, is set in a future that isn’t very pleasant. While the overall message is positive: totalitarian governments and societal breakdowns can be fixed, each one of them assumes that we first self-destructed. Governmental, environmental, societal: you name it, we imploded it.

And that’s worried me for quite some time. This is the literature our kids gobble up. Yes, the messages are ones of hope, but what did we do to get to the point where we needed it? All of them assume the worst of human nature took over the country or the entire planet. After a while, you have to wonder if that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: Your future sucks, so get used to it now. You’re going to have to live with it a while before someone comes along to save it.

Tomorrowland is a direct reaction/response to all that negativity. It doesn’t so much as paint a rosier picture, but shows a future that doesn’t have to end in a bleakness that needs overcoming. It states that we can change things NOW so they never get to that point in the first place. In fact, Casey Newton, the protagonist, asks that question when one of her teachers finally gives her the opportunity: “What can we do to change the future?” and this question becomes one of the driving forces of the movie.

As does the idea of a self-fulfilling prophecy. We feed ourselves negative thoughts via the 24-hour news cycle. Our social media is filled with bullies who hide behind anonymity to spread their hatred. Our government officials are corrupt and think their only crime was getting caught. Fill yourself with enough of this and of course you’re going to have a negative view of the future.

I didn’t get to go to the World’s Fair in 1964, although my uncle did and he brought back pictures. I still have his stereo slides – yes, he could take 3D pictures with a double-lens camera back then and project the slides onto a screen. We’d wear 3D glasses with a red and a green lens to view them in the three dimensions– a technology, unfortunately, we no longer have available. I watched those slides over and over, dreaming of going into space someday, of flying cars and jet packs. We stood on the cusp of greatness. Progress wasn’t a dirty word – it was hope for a better future.

Somewhere we lost that ideal. The companies we hoped would bring us a better life did so at a cost to the environment that made us realize the future had a price we weren’t sure we wanted to pay. Watergate happened and we lost faith in our government. Terrorism, a word unknown in 1964, became a new reality we had to handle. And dystopian literature in books, television and movies became our norm.

Which is why I enjoyed Tomorrowland. As I watched the opening sequence, I thought to myself, “I remember that. That feeling that we could do anything. Accomplish anything. And I miss it.” It felt wonderful to be reminded of that optimism. We know things now we didn’t know then so we won’t make the same mistakes. We’ll make new ones, instead. And that’s a very positive view of progress.

I’ve already read one review of Tomorrowland that dissed it as a “commercial for environmentalism” and a promotion for Disneyland (and, by extension, all the Disney theme parks). The reviewer said nothing of the acting, the directing or the cinematography, but focused solely on what it referred to as a “political agenda.” I take exception to his review. No one reviews The Hunger Games on its “political agenda” or disses Divergent because it depicts a totalitarian state that oppresses its citizenry. But a movie that shows the future in a positive light? No, we can’t have that.

If Disney is the only company who is going to stand up and say, “We CAN do better” then who cares if it’s a commercial for one part of their theme parks? They can advertise the heck out of themselves if they succeed in changing the negative attitudes we currently hold about the future into one of positive progress.

So this “review” is a response, in part, to that reviewer who needed to put down anything that might show a happy, healthy future. I, too, am not going to address the acting, directing or cinematography – I am only addressing its theme: the future is ours to make, so make it a good one.

And I, for one, know which wolf I’m feeding.*

Play safe,

Diana

*This line will only make sense once you’ve seen the movie.

Getting ready

Less than a month to go for our trip but not spending much time this week thinking about it. We’ve already chosen our luggage, weighed it and I’ve packed and unpacked twice trying to decide what stays and what goes. I have a list started that lists “Needs” and “Wants”. When we come to the wire, the “Needs” go into the suitcase and, depending on the room and weight left over, I’ll have to prioritize my “Wants.”

But this week another event has superceded all thoughts of leaving. In four more days, my son is getting married. I love the woman he’s chosen to be his wife – she’s a true sweetheart. That doesn’t mean I don’t mourn the departure of my son, however. He moved out of the house eight months ago, so I’ve had some time to adjust, but there’s a permanence about a marriage ceremony that puts a period on his childhood. And that gives me bittersweet feelings.

Bitter because he’s left us. No, bitter is too strong a word. Sad. Melancholy. Both of those are better words. After being a huge part of our lives, day in, day out for two decades, his presence in the house is gone. I’m not picking up after him, or nagging him to do anything, nor am I getting a daily hug or a quick, “Love you, Mom” as he heads out the door. We don’t share music anymore, he doesn’t fill me in on the latest games I should be playing or how his favorite League of Legends team is doing in the finals.

Sweet because I know we did a good job. Like most parents, we screwed up sometimes but, in the end, he turned out to be a good man. Yes, I used the word man. He hasn’t been a boy for quite some time and I’m proud of the man he’s become. His soon-to-be wife is getting a wonderful, caring, loving human being and I take just a little of the credit for that.

So the trip has taken a back seat this week as life gets turned on its head in a very happy way. I celebrate the addition to the family and am thrilled to the very core of my being that he found a woman who loves him as much as we do.

And, if I’m very, very lucky, I might even be ready by Sunday to give him away.

Play safe,

Diana

Newly released!

Great news! REMEMBERED LOVE is once more available. This short story, formerly at Ellora's Cave, is now re-released as a separate, stand-alone title. Currently available only at Smashwords, it will be at Amazon in a day or so (they take a little longer to go live because they insist on checking covers for "suitability". I already have one title banned there because the cover doesn't fit their sense of propriety).

Val knows all her husband’s moves and their sex life has become mundane despite their love for one another. Then Gary suggests adding a little kink to their sex life and she discovers a whole new side of him—a side that suddenly makes their marriage very, very exciting.

Ooh...spice in a marriage! What a concept. :)


Pick up a copy of this today - and don't forget to leave a review! Those sentences you write are what drives numbers nowadays.

Play safe!
Diana

What are you reading?

Lately I've been on a Regency kick with my reading habits. Currently, I'm enjoying Julia Quinn's Smyth-Smith romances. Honoria and Daniel have both found their mates...who will be next? I'll soon find out in the next book in the series, I'm sure!

My husband asked me why I read these books when I know how they're going to end. I told him that's exactly why I like them. There aren't any worries, no concerns that the hero and heroine won't make it through the conflict and end up together, because that's not the trope of a Regency romance. I read these BECAUSE I know the ending. If I want stress and real-life, I'll watch the news.

And I do. Watch the news, that is. But when I pick up a book to read, I don't want reality. I want to escape into a different world or a different time where everything's always going to work out in the end.

I also told him, there is an art to creating those stories. When the plot is tried and true, the characters have to pick up the reins and drive the story. If they don't, it IS boring and dull and repetitive. Julia Quinn writes fun characters I enjoy getting to know. So far, I've read Just Like Heaven and A Night Like This in this particular series of hers (disclaimer: series that play on characters from one book to the next are among my favorites. Nora Roberts does that a lot as well and I like those books better than her stand-alones. It's one of the reasons I wrote Phillip and Sarah Townshend into Services Rendered, even though the book isn't about them. And Will shows up in all four books of the Journey to Submission series. One of these days maybe he'll get a book of his own!).

Next up is The Secrets of Sir Richard Kenworthy. I expect the hero and the heroine will end up together at the end and I've no doubt Ms. Quinn will deliver that...along with intriguing characters and great conflicts!

So tell me, what kind of a a reading kick are you currently on?

Play safe,
Diana