FIRST DAY BACK

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Yesterday, I looked like a homeless man coming out from under the bridge in the morning. Ravished! Could not make myself look good. Did not feel good. Did not care. The condition is called jet lag.

The first thing I did was the last two days of my blog. The travel blog. Today, back to normal. I shall miss the travel portion. However, I am glad to be home and writing again about the mundane things in my life.

In my Key West wanderings yesterday, I missed something. Something I saw on an almost daily basis in Europe. Clotheslines full of wash. Things do look better howeverr without the wash hanging outside.

There is one thing I definitely do not miss. The computers. European computers have different key pads. Italy was the worst. Many letters were not where they are on American computers. @ was different on Italian and Greek computers. Both in different places. These thingst made doing the blog at least one third longer in time. So many mistakes to correct!

Epilogue comming. I have a double disc of over 600 photos. Doing it beyond my capabilities. Need Sloan. We will start in the next couple of days.

I lost some weight on the trip. Thought I did. Only 5 pounds. But, 5 pounds is 5 pounds. It was the hills and stairs. Not the food. I ate everything. My stomach is down. More than 50 per cent. Again, the hills and stairs.

Unpacked a bit off and on yesterday. Plain did not feel like doing it. Have more to do today. Need to get Anna over. I have a ton of dirty clothes. The longer I was away, the less I washed.

Need a couple of naps during the day. Went to sleep at 7 last night. Up now at 3. I stayed up as long as I could last night.

Needed a manicure. Saw Tammy at Lee Nails. She did not like my beard! Crushed me! The first one who did not. Even my daughter Lisa liked it. Tammy said it made me look older.

Tammy followed my blog day by day while I was on the trip. Made me feel good.

The cupboard really was bare. Anna had cleaned out the refrigerator. I had to go to Publix. I only got half of what I needed. No fruit. My head was screwed up.

Ran into Ryno as I was pulling into the Publix parking lot. Ryno is one of Key West’s premier radio people. Every day for several hours. Ryno started me out on radio at KONK three years ago. He was the station engineer. He is from Watertown, N.Y., about 15 miles from my hometown of Utica. A sweet person.

I rolled the window down and we chatted a bit. He referred to me as the globe trotter. He was reading the blog, also. Thank you, Ryno.

I need a haircut. I have hair for the first time in years. Growing out every which way. I am going to keep some hair. Needs trimming bad, however. Even Tammy said…..Get a haircut!

My appointment with Lori is 10:15 this morning. I should look beautiful and ready for my Key West world afterward.

Two stops definitely today. Don’s Place around 4. Then the Chart Room at 6. Then I will really be back!

When I left Key West, the sun was shining. Little, if any, rain. I return two months later and Key West is into the rainy season. Night and day. Pouring outside right now. Thunder and lightning over the ocean. Nothing like ocean lightning at night! It joins you in bed.

Enjoy your day!

DAYS 43 and 44

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I am back!

In lovely humid rainy Key West!

Truly, there is no place like home. My pillow and mattress. My bathroom. My comfort and comfort factor.

There is a movie called Independence Day. One of the Quaide brothers is in it. The crazy one. I think Randy. At the end of the movie, Quaide opts to fly his plane into a huge war vessel from outer space. One that has been destroying earth. He knows there is a nuclear bomb stuck in an opening to the air vessel. As he aims his plane for it in order to destroy the enemy and of necessity himself, he shouts with a smile on his face…..I’m back! That is how I feel.

Good does not accurately describe the trip. It was trerrific! Two months in three foreign countries. What could be better!

This is a two day blog. Sunday, my last full day in Novara. Monday, my trip home.

I tried to do the blog yesterday in Atlanta between planes. Too tried. No way could I do it.

Sunday was full of last minute details.

Terrific lunch! A fresh fish. Broiled whole. A bit of oil.

Shopped. For Robert and Ally. Found a lovely white shift dress for Ally. It matches the one I bought for Lisa in Athens. Found a great bathing suit for Robert. I never bought anything for Corey or Cameron. Saw nothing that turned me on. They will get my best wishes and an apology.

I spent a portion of Sunday afternoon reading a couple of English newspapers. British. Hard to come by. I love reading and missed it a lot on the trip. Not enough English material available.

Then a Sunday afternoon nap. Followed by packing. Always a pain.

I was surprised that my bags were less full than when I left. I could not have become such a great packer in such a short time. This morning I received an e mail. I left a lot of stuff in the apartment in Novara.

Some observations I would like to share with you. Some previously mentioned. However, worth mentioning again.

When I was preparing to leave for the trip, many people told me to be careful. Europpeans did not like Americans. I did not know what to expect.

They were all wrong. One hundred per cent. The Greeks and Italians I met all loved me and Americans. They want to know more about us. They want to live here. Two asked me to take them with me when I returned. They were serious. This is the land of milk and honey from their perspective.

In Greece, Italy and France all one hears music wise are American songs. Sung in English. In Greece where I spent about four weeks, I only heard Greek tunes 3 times. Never in Italy or Greece. They are American crazy!

They like Americans on a personal basis, also. They sought me out for conversation purposes. They have an unending interest in us and our ways.

Greeks work hard. Harder than most. Harder than the Italians.

Greeks try to make a buck when they can. Their season is 6 months. They work 6 months. Seven days a week. Twelve hours a day. I did not meet one Greek who did not work that shift. The Greeks understood you have to make it when you can.

The Italians must have enough money. They close from 12-3. Nothing is open on Sunday. Including restaurants. Saturdays are slow business days also, in the sense that little is open.

Greeks and Italians hate Germans. Both got screwed over by Germany in World War II. The feeling still exists. That is why Merkel’s Germany is so disliked by Greeks and Italians. World War II was only 65 years ago. Recall how we still fight the Civil War in the United States and that war has been behind us more than 150 years.

Of the three countries visted, each had its own unique personality. The people each different. I liked the Greeks the best. Warm. The Italians are stand offish. The French snobbish. They think their s–t does not stink.

I could not sleep Sunday night. I had to rise at 4:30 to drive one hour to Milan to be at the airport and check in 2 hours before flight time. In Europe, if you do not check your bags 2 hours before, the bags do not get on the plane. You are told this by the airlines constantly.

I was up at 4:30. I slept little worrying that I might not wake timely.

It was a pleasant drive to Milan. No traffic to speak of.

The Milan to Atlanta Delta flight was 10.5 hours. A long time. I read one whole Girshom novel, 2 English newspapers and a Time magazine. Plus watched a movie. Time moved quickly for me.

I had a 5 hour lay over in Atlanta. A killer. I started falling asleep in the airport. I kept fighting the sleep for fear I would miss my plane.

Lisa and the grandkids met me at the Key West airport. A grand feeling to see them! Robert and Ally ran to hug and kiss me. They had both made a welcoming home card for me. It was wonderful to see Lisa, also. Robert and Ally were in their pajamas. It was past their bed time.

I finally got to bed at 11 last night. Slept two shifts of 2.5 hours each. Otherwise wide awake. I figure I have at least 5 days of jet lag with which to deal.

Customs in Atlanta was a big deal. A lot of it. Europe no where as thorough as we are.

There was a young man in front of me. He was stopped 3 times and questioned. One time the dog sniffed his bag. I thought he was dead there. He got through. Till the end. Then security came over and took his passport and him.

My shaved head now has hair. Short, but obvious. I am going to keep it. However, a trim needed which I hope I can get from Lori today.

I grew a beard. Well, lets say I am trying. I have not shaved in over 5 weeks. I think I look gritty. Everyone including Lisa likes it. I will live with it for a while. What I love about the beard is that I do not have to shave. I have always hated shaving.

DAY 44 is the end of the story of my trip. As said before, I am back. Tomorrow the blog will return to normal. And shorter. I had to write long blogs on the trip to be sure I shared everything with you.

There will be an epiloque of sorts. In one to two weeks. I took or had taken over 600 pictures. I want to put some together and share them with you. Things like Louis and the volcano, the monastery steps, and the like.

Who knows, there might be a book in all this.

Thank you for bearing with me through this almost seven week trip. Love you all!

Enjoy your day!

DAY 42

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The honeymoon is over!

I return to Key West tomorrow. Monday, not Tuesday as I thought. Fortunately, Lisa picked up on my error. She Skyped me yesterday to tell me I was going to have missed my plane if I left Tuesday.

On a trip as I have experienced, days of the week and dates get screwed up. Intermingle. Are not important.

As a result of which, a person can miss a return flight home!

My today – Sunday – now changes. No Milan. No Leonardo Da Vinci. Instead rest and packing.

I am in Novara. Drove here from Camogli yesterday afternoon. A two hour drive. Thruways all the way.

Strange traffic for a summer Saturday afternoon. None. Just me and a few other cars.

It is the cost of gas and high road tolls here in Italy.

The other vehicles on the road all passed me at 125 miles per hour. Crazy!

The clothesline saga continues. Eevry town and hamlet I drove by…..there they were! Clothes hanging ouside windows and on front porches. Even here in Novara, a classy city.

Lisa Skyped me in the afterfnoon. Fortunately. Otherwise, I would have missed my plane tomorrow. Got to see and chat with the grandkids and son in law Corey. I could tell I am really missed. A nice feeling.

Last night was another birthday dinner. My Morrocan friend Miriam cooked for me. And several others as well. A dinner party.

We started with a good champagne. During dinner, Beefeater was substituted for me. A thoughtful gesture.

Pickies to begin. Too many to describe. All good.

Then humus. Not the kind you buy in the supermarket and scoop onto a plate. Miriam made the humus from scratrch. Ground the checi beans herself.

The entre was spiedini. Small pieces of beef on a stick. Miriam also prepared some sort of wheat dish mixed with very tiny pieces of tomato and covered with just enough oil.

There was a touch of Lebanese to the meal.

Miriam exceeded herself with the birthday cake. Made by her from scratch, also. A cheesecake covered with blueberries and gelato. Of course on top 77 candles. One big 70 years old one and 7 tiny one year ones.

Everyone sang Happy Birthday! Just like in the U.S.

I was pleased with it all. My special thanks to Miriam.

Today I have to get ready for tomorrow. I will leave Novara about 6 in the morning. I have a one hour drive to the Milan airport. Then many hours in the air till I set down in Key West just after 9 in the evening.

Enjoy your Sunday!

DAY 41

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I am doing this blog in Camogli each morning from some sort of travel office. The office provides internet rental service. The place is always crowded. However, I have not seen one person buy anything except me. Six euros of computer time each morning.

After completing yesterday’s blog, I took a walk. Down strange streets and alleys. The alleys are not bad. It is the stairs. Everywhere. Italians must have strong hearts!

I was tired after the walk. Took a nap. Ended up sleeping most of the afternoon away. It is very humid here. It contributes to my tiredness.

I found a Don’s Place in Camogli, Italy. A French cafe on the waterfront. Why Don’s Place? A tanqueray on the rocks was only 4 euros. The cheapest anywhere else in Camogli at least 8 euros. Many 10 or 12. And then there is Portofino where it cost me 17 euro for a gin and tonic.

The owner is a nice guy also. Don again. He spoke English. Was married 5 years ago in La Hoya. Knows Los Angeles and San Diego well. His in laws live in California.

Most bars give you something to eat with a drink. Generally a small dish of potato chips. This guy put out chips, nuts, 2 types of small pieces of pizza, green and back olives soaked in oil, carrot sticks and I cannot recall what else.

What a bargain to drink at this particular French cafe!

Dinner afterwards was with some people I had met earlier in the day. We dined at a very nice out door restaurant which jutted over the Mediterranean. Dinner was by candlelight.

Camogli’s beach is a horseshoe. To my left while dining was a hill. Some of the trees and some of the rocks were bathed in lights. I could see nothing else. Turns out there are hotels hidden behind the trees and the lights were provided by the hotels.

To my right was the length of the beach with a large Church at the end. The Church was all lite up. Beyond the Church, I could see the lights of Genoa.

My appetizer was cod in milk. I have no idea why I ordered it. I am glad I did. It was good. The cod was neither dry nor salty. The meat actually flaked off onto your fork.

For dessert, I had cannoli. Two of them.

Cannolòi must have been a poor man’s dish. I can remember my Mother frequently making them when we lived third floor front on Jay Street. She had hard wood rollers. Looked like hot dogs. She prepared the dough from scratch. Then stretched the dough around the wood forms. They were then dropped into a pan of boiling oil.

When they came out and were cooled, she stuffed the shells with ricotta somehow sweetened. They were good!

I had them again last night and remembered my Mother. Quite frankly, the ones I had last night were no were as good as Mom’s.

I happened to mention to the people I was with that it was my birthday. They bought my dinner.

I return today to Novara. A couple I met have invited me to dinner. The wife is the Moroccan I have mentioned previously. I have been told there will be a cake, also. This should be one great meal! The woman is a professional chef.

Clotheslines again. I am hooked on them.

I failed to mention yesterday that I saw the same thing in Portofino. Yes, very rich Portofino had clothes hanging out windows of very expensive condo buildings and private homes. Not as much as elsewhere. Maybe one or two windows or porches every 3-4 buildings.

I hope to get to Milan over the weekend. Other than flying in, I have not really seen it. There is a Leonardo Da Vinci painting that has been recommended to me.

Many have inquired where are the pictures? No pictures? There are a ton of them. I have two discs of 300 each.

My computer talents are limited. Getting the blog out each morning on this trip has been a task. Pictures too! No way could I have handled it.

I plan on issuing a followup to my DAYS with a couple of days of pics. I am going to try to group and label them so you can fit them in to the experiences shared with you.

Enjoy your day!

DAY 40

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Today is special.

It is my birthday.

Seventy seven years.

A long time. Who would have thought. I still remember my young years like yesterday.

My father recently passed on at 98. His father at 94. It appears the genes may be good. I hope.

The weather. I have not spoken of it in ages. Here in mid Italy, it is reported in the following fashion. There is a heat wave coming up from Africa. When the heat wave hits the Mediterranean, the humidity will increase. Rain is also expected coming down from the Alps.

I share the weather report so you can compare it with those in the U.S. Generally the same description wise. Only the names are different.

Yesterday, I finally made Portofino. It is as good as they say, if not better. Magnificent. Beautiful.

You can feel the wealth. Huge yachts. Smart people. High end clothing shops. Everything perfect. The buildings, boats and cafes neat and orderly.

Portofino appeared to me as if it were a finely mowed the lawn. Perfection!

The private homes on the hillside equally magnificent. Obviously equally expensive. Terrific shrubbery. All neatly manicured.

The negative with Portofino is that it is too expensive. Outrageous price wise. I had a gin and tonic. Seventeen euros. Roughly $20 American money.

An ordinary millionaire could not afford to live in Portofino. It is only for the very very rich.

I took a cab to Portofino. Decided to treat myself well. The thought of a train and bus really did not excite me.

The cab cost 40 euro. Not bad for a 15-20 minute drive from one town to another. We had to go up one side of Mount Portofino and down the other.

The return trip was not as easy.

I figured I would take a cab back to Camogli. I went to the cab stand. Four cabs. All beautiful. BMWs and Mercedes.

I asked the fare back to Camogli. One hundred euros. I explained I had only paid 40 euros to get there. They did not care. The cab drivers were polite, but adamant. One hundred euros or stay in Portofino.

I sat down on a bench beneath a nearby tree. What to do? I really would have been pissed off if I had to go 100 euros.

Then I saw a sign. Bus stop. At that instance, the bus came. I got on and made sure it would take me to the metro railway station in St. Margery. I probably spelled the name wrong.

I was assured it would. The cost: 1.5 euros. A deal!

I enjoyed the ride. A large comfortable air conditioned bus. Many lovelies in the their bikinis.

The bus dropped me off in front of the metro station. I went in to the counter. A ticket to Camogli, please. Three euro. I bought it. So far I had spent a measly 4.5 euros to return to Camogli.

The person behind the counter told me to hurry. The train was just arriving. I ran out and got on. One stop later I was in Camogli.

The train dropped me off at the internet store I have been using each morning to do the blog. The streets beyond are blocked off. Only pedestrian traffic permitted. A shot walk and I was at my apartment.

On rising this morning, I watched a little TV. No English speaking channels. I came upon the Wizard of Oz. In Italian. However, the songs/singing were in English with Italian sub titles. The movie was easy to follow. I must have seen it a 100 times already.

I have been enjoying breakfast at a little cafe on the sea. Tiny inside. Three small tables outside. Rosalie, sometimes Rosalia, has been taking care of me. A short thin woman in her mid 50s.

I told her today was my birthday. I was 77 years old. She started pulling on my left ear lobe. Seventy seven times. For good luck. She said that was the Italian way.

I explained how we spank in the U.S. She thought that was strange. I did not tell her that pulling on my ear lobe was strange to me.

How will I spend the rest of my birthday? Anything special? I do not know. I will take today like every day. As it comes.

An observation. Middle aged and older women dress well in this area. Nice dresses, suits and hats. Looking at them is like viewing a fashion show.

Enjoy your day!

DAY 39

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I got lost!

Only to me would it happen.

Comogli runs upwards from the Mediterranean. My apartment is directly on the ocean. Each block ascends in parallel fashion behind me.

The horizontal/parallel streets are ok. They run normal in a straight line. It is the vertical streets that are the problem. There are streets and alleys running up and down. The alleys, though narrow, are as much a thoroughfare as the streets. The verticle streets and alleys bend and twist all over he place.

I was at an internet shop several blocks up. Took a large number of steps and one long street to get to the internet store. When I left the internet store, I got confused, screwed up. I missed the first set of stairs. Tried several others. No good. Then tried the alleys. Even worse.

I knew I would eventually get out. I could see the Mediterranean below me. I just needed to find the correct opening to get down to it.

I finally did. A major accomplishment!

There is a palazzo a few steps from the internet store. Note palazzo. I am starting to speak like a native Italian.

I sat on a bench. There was a nearby street fair. I wanted to watch the world go by.

I lit a cigarette. Bad, I know. So did some one else. There was an elderly man (like me) sitting on the next bench. Italian. He came over and started speaking to me in Italian. Though I could not understand him, I knew what he was talking about. The evils of smoking.

I let him finish. Then I let him know I did not understand Italian, only spoke English.

His face lit up. He started the tirade again. This time in English. He was proud to show off his ability to speak English.

He sat with me for a while. We talked of his experiences back in 1960 in the United States. He had been in Cuba on business. Flew to Philadelphia and then to California where he spent some time. He congratulated me on the Fourth of July. He knew our history intimately.

I was ashamed. I had forgotten it was July 4, Independence Day. Other than my new found friend, there was no other person or thing to remind me. Additionally, days and dates run into each other when you are bouncing around as I am. I rarely am sure of the day of the week let alone a date.

My friend’s wife came along. He introduced me and they were on their way.

There was a large statue in the palazzo. It was a memorial to Nato A. Camogli. I tried to look him up on the internet. He is there. All over the place. However, every article is in Italian so I never got his background.

I swam a bit in the Mediterranean and sun bathe in the afternoon. To swim, you have to pay. Just like the Jersey Shore and Cape Cod. The beaches were unique. No sand. Stones. Each about 3-4 inches in diameter. Hurt the feet. The water was not clear as it had been in Greece. Murky like Key West used to be.

Then a nap. The sun was hot and tiring. My apartment for some reason cool. No air conditioning. I think it is the three foot walls.

Clotheslines come into play again. I raised the issue with my new friend in the palazzo. He, too, said it was because sun dried is better. I think he is wrong, also. These people have never known the joy of an electric dryer so they cannot compare.

He also told me many of the buildings were built with special pipes to hold the clothesline between windows or buildings. He assured me my apartment had one.

When I returned to the apartment, I checked. Sure enough, there below the window ledge in the living room was a clothesline. It ran from one living room window to the other. There were pipes at each end firmly affixed to the walls. A roller on each.

I had my own clothesline and never knew it!

Dinner was at another sea side cafe. Another excellent meal!

I had a local dish. Whereas the polenta was bad from my perspective, the pasta special dish was not. Oh, so good!

It is called trofie. A small curly thin macaroni. It was served with a pesto sauce. If I ate no more, I had dined like a king!

Broiled fish was my entre. I was taken into the kitchen. There were several glass vats with fish swimming around in them. I picked my own fish for dinner. I could not help thinking I was also passing a death sentence on the fish selected.

The fish was a winner!

I took a walk along the sea side after dinner. The area is like a huge boardwalk. Except that it is about 40 feet wide and constructed with brick and stone from a thousand years ago or better.

Speaking of bricks, there are many in arches under buildings and walk ways. Some one told me the bricks were from the medieval times. He showed me how they were half the size of today’s brick. He was proud to explain how they had held up over the ages.

I desired ice cream. It is gelato here. You buy it at a galateria.
I enjoyed a soft chocolate on a cone.

Gelato back home in Utica is different. It is hard. Great taste. Better than present day gelato.

I figured out years ago when I visited Rome why there was a difference between Utica’s gelato and that of Italy. It is the time factor. My people came to the new world between 1880 and 1920. They brought with them the cooking and food of that time in Italy. Gelato was hard back then.

Time changes everything. From the hard delicacy of yesteryear to the softer one of today. Both good. Again however, I prefer the older.

Never made Portofino yesterday. I get comfortable and say another day. I am running out of days. This afternoon Portofino is on my schedule. A car is not the way to get there. No parking. I have been told to take the train. For one stop only. Then a boat for a short ride to Portofino. Not easy. But I will ge there.

Enjoy your day!

DAY 38

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Good bye Courmier and Chamonix!

Hello Camogli!

I had a three hour drive to get to Camogli yesterday. It took four. Construction. Two of three lanes closed. For 20 miles.

I have been vacationing too long. It seems I have acquired patience. It did not bother me. Plus, I had the Alps on each side of me. Great viewing at all times.

Castles accompanied me the whole way. Even as I got close to Camogli. Whereas I said yesterday they were about a mile apart, they seemed even closer during the drive. The castles are exciting to see. All different. Except for location. Each on top of a steep hill. Churches also, of course.

After viewing so many castles and being aware of the fighting that went on between them over the years, I do not know how Garibaldi got the various kings to join in and create one nation in 1861. An accomplishment!

Clotheslines were with me also the whole trip. Even now in Camogli. Greece and Italy are loaded with them. It seems to be the only way to dry clothes in those countries. Clotheslines between windows and on balconies and terraces. Sometimes merely a rope between two windows.

I have been of the impression that there are no dryers because of the electrical problem. I have been asking the natives. They tell me no. It is because they prefer their clothes to be sun dried. I do not buy it. But…

Even million euro/dollar apartments hang their wet clothes out.

I suspect that if someone could invest a dryer that needed little or no electricity, Italians would run to buy them.

An interesting experience occurred on one of the thruways I was driving. Italian gas stops have restaurants and stores just as in the U.S. Not Mac Donald types. Better wholesome food. And anything else you can consider buying.

I had an ice cream. I was waiting in line to pay for it. A middle aged woman in a black dress was in front of me. She had made a 51 euro buy. A big buy for such a store. She told the girl behind the counter she had just became aware she had to feed the whole family in the evening.

The woman paid the 51 euros with three 20s. The girl checked out the bills. They use a machine to do it in Italy. No crossing with a marker.

The girl said the bills were no good. The woman got upset. I just got them from the bank, she said. She pulled out a large bunch of 20s. Tried to pay two more times. None of the bills good. Finally the woman paid with genuine Italian money.

Outside were two tough devious looking men watching the whole proceeding. She went out to them and the whole three got in a car and drove away.

The girl behind the counter spoke English. That is the reason I am able to relate this story. She explained it all to me afterwards.

Parking sucks in Camogli. The condominium I am using is located on the water. There is no parking on the water. Nor for a couple of blocks behind the rows of waterfront buildings. I had to park far far away. Then drag and roll my suitcase up and down little hills. Additionally Camogli is all steps. Reminded me of Rome. I had to carry the bag up the steps.

I find it amazing. Each time I am confronted by steps, they go up. Never down.

I am getting stronger. Six weeks ago I would have died. After all the hilly walking I have done this trip, my body is getting accustomed to it.

Every place I have visited has had a different flavor. As does Camogli. It is the Italy as I thought it would be. Old medieval buildings, steps, people chattering incessantly and loudly.

The buildings are medieval. Each more than a thousand years old. Along the waterfront, which by the way is the Mediterranean, they are six stories high. The first floor consists of stores and restaurants. Second through sixth floors apartments. No elevators in any of the buildings. Steep narrow staircases in each.

In the U.S. the higher the floor, generally the more expensive. Not in Camogli. Because of the lack of elevators, the higher up you go, the cheaper the apartment.

Of course, no air conditioning in any of these buildings. Open windows and fans instead.

Camogli is on the western side of Italy. Significantly above Rome. Immediately next to Portofino. There is a mountain on the sea shore separating Camogli and Portofino. It is called Mount Portofino.

Last night I ate in Camogli rather than run over to Portofino. I was tired from the drive. From what I am told, Camogli and Portofino are the same. Perhaps Portofino later today.

I had dinner at a sea side cafe around 11. Too late, I know. However, I was hungry.

I selected the cafe because there were white tablecloths and what turned out to be real silver and china glasses.

I was not disappointed. I had one terrific meal! The entre was lamb encased in ground pecan nuts . It was served on top of a bevy of cooked fruits and vegetables mixed. The key was the taste. There was an oil which appeared to keep the pecans attached to the lamb. Whatever, it was delicious. One of the finest meals I have ever enjoyed.

Greece was cheap dollarwise. Italy is expensive. Like 3-4 times.

I was tired after dinner. A bit bloated. It was after midnight. The area was still bustling. I went immediately to bed.

Enjoy your day!

DAYS 36 and 37

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I am back!

It is a question mark each day whether I will return. I failed to bring my computer with me. I am at the whim of internet stores and friendly people. One thing I know for a fact. Everyone in Italy is using old and sick machines. Each day is a task and a surprise.

I have been sleeping in Courmier the last three nights. Driving back and forth to Chamonix each day. The Alps are always before me. From the moment I rise to the time I go to bed. They are there on the drive to Chamonix and back. The mountains dominate the scene.

I would be remiss if I failed to make some additional comments regarding Mont Blanc. Remember it is 11 peaks on top of an already big mountain.

Mont Blanc defies description. I guess that is why I am back trying to tell you more about it. Words do not adequately tell you what the eyes see.

The mountain is high and tall. It stands defiantly. Speaks quietly. Says…..Don’t screw with me!

Impossible to see all 11 peaks at one time. Clouds up high. Block the view.

Trees cover the lower range of Mont Blanc. Pine. All the way up to a certain level. Then nothing but bare rock. Someone told me pines will not grow above 2,000 feet. The bare land is formidable. Then comes the peaks. Not just the very top. The top for a considerable distance downward.

When I arrived, some of the peaks had valleys of glaciers. Ice. One day later all the peaks were covered with snow. A significant dusting. Impressive.

Many waterfalls. They are streams running down the sides of the mountain. All over. Some a foot wide. Others up to 20 feet. Beautiful. They run in and out of the woods. You see it, then you do not. All of a sudden the stream reappears again.

The thinner streams were not running yesterday. They were frozen. Yesterday at this time (11 am) the temperature was 29 degrees F. At the same time 24 hours later it is 50 degrees F.

The waterfalls are attributable to two factors. The first is the melting glaciers. The other is that the mountain top is loaded with natural springs and wells. Below ground. They seep their way upward and add to the glacier spill off.

Yesterday morning, I had a unique experience. When I opened the door to the balcony starring at Mont Blanc, I saw a number of clouds. Some were below my eye level. Others at my eye level. Others above my eye level. All set against the green pines of Mont Blanc. A wow!

Last night when driving back to Courmier, I had another experience. Though one I have had before. Fog. Big time. There were occasions I could not see at all. Bad.

Moving on from Mont Blanc, let me share two food experiences I had yesterday.

The first was in Chamonix at lunch time. I went into a big restaurant at the main corners of Chamonix. Where all the world walks by. It was too cold to eat outside, however.

The menu was in total French. No English sub titles as I had become accustomed to elsewhere on this trip. I saw what appeared to be the word sausages. I have been eating many sausages this trip. All different. All good.

I ordered sausage. Pointed to it on the menu to the waitress. My mistake was not asking her to spell out exactly what I was ordering. Assuming she spoke English. I do not know. I found whereas many Greeks and Italians have at least a smarthering of English, the French seem to be above a second language.

I was served two boiled hot dogs and french fries. Not big fat hot dogs. Not long ones. Two regular sized.

I looked at them for a few minutes. And then decided, oh well! My mistake. Eat them.

I called the waitress over. Asked for ketchup and mustard. The least I could do was dress the meal up. She looked at me in shock. I knew what was coming…..We do not serve ketchup and mustard! We are French!

I quietly ate my boiled hot dogs and fries.

Dinner last night got screwed up, also. I was at what might best be described as a good neighborhood restaurant. It had been so described to me. I was told to be sure to eat polenta. It is the favored dish in this Alpian village.

There were only six entres on the menu. Each served with polenta. The only thing I recognized was chicken catecetore. I asked what polenta was. No screwing around this meal. Lunch was bad enough.

The waiter provided a polenta description. It was crushed corn. All mashed together with what I could not understand. He told me it was everyone’s favorite. Had me look at the other tables. Each had this heaping large dish of yellow stuff on their table. He further told me Christopher Columbus introduced polenta into this country. There was no corn in Europe prior to Columbus. He brought it to the old world from the new world.

I did not like the polenta. I was told to bury it in the tomato sauce. That is the way it is supposed to be eaten. I did. Better, but still not my dish.

The polenta alone cost me 12 euros. About $16 American money. Not worth it.

I am absolutely impressed with Italian roads and bridges. All appear in tip top shape. The Italians have also recently constructed a speed train from Milan to I know not where. A new road was built near the railway tracks. The road had to have 72 bridges. So the trains could pass underneath.

Italian roads and bridges are well maintained. There is a reason for it. At some point a law was passed that whoever built or constructed a road, received a contract to maintain the road for 30 years. The money for maintenance comes from tolls. The contractor charges the tolls. The contractor keeps the money and makes repairs as need.

A good deal for the contractor! Positive cash flow!

The Italians using the roads are not very happy about the 30 year thing however. The tolls are expensive. My two hour drive from Novara to Courmier had cost me 25 euros one way. The Italians are an adept society. Their way around the burdensome toll is to drive back roads. They know all the bye ways.

I think the Italian way of building and maintaining roads and bridges is worthy of investigation. Gets the job done! The job we are not and have not been doing for years. Our roadways and bridges are a disgrace. Forget maintenance. A pot hole per family. The cost is not a tax to be imposed. It is paid daily by the users of the roads and bridges.

It is probably a screw job either way. However, worth exploring.

A few words about Chamonix. Lovely! gorgeous! Exciting! People all over. Summer and winter. Great pedestrian walk ways. Terrific high scale stores. No tee shirt vendors. Very European. I sat several times having a coffee at an outdoor cafe and watched the world go by. It was the world. The whole world. Every nationality walking the streets.

I got to Chamonix through a tunnel. A nine mile tunnel. The Italians and French built it. Runs right under one of the Alp mountains. Cool!

Somewhere in the back of my mind comes a recollection of Mary Shelley and this area. I did not have the time to research it. Forgive me if I am wrong.

Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein’s Wife. A best seller at the time. She lived here in the Coumier area. Courmier was to have provided the background for the book.

Recall that her story took place in a castle. Castles all over the place here. Recall also the fog. Fog frequent here. Recall further the fog I drove through last night. The fog was thick enough not only for Frankenstein, but also Dracula and Wolfman.

Later today, I am driving to the Portofino area. The Italian Riviera. A three hour drive.

I will be staying in Camogli, a town immediately next door to Portofino.

The trip should be interesting. It is summer time and the area should be flourishing.

Enough for today. I am going to be thrown out this internet store. It closes from noon to 3 each day. In Chamonix, all the stores closed from 1 to 3. Siesta time.

Enjoy your day!

DAYS 35 and 36

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Between northern Italy and mid eastern France, computer/internet connections have been a disaster. I think it is because I am high up in the Alps. Whatever.

I could not blog yesterday. Today is a double header. Every word worth reading!

If I had been able to do the blog yesterday, my opening comment would have been…..The last 48 hours have been amazing! Absolutely amazing! Hard to believe!

Here it is…..48 hours ago I was in Athens, Greece. Yesterday Novara, Italy. Today Chamonix, France.

How about this…..Athens a boiling 90 degrees. Novara’s humidity a killer. It snowed last night in Chamonix and is presently 29 degrees Fahrenheit.

The trip caught up with me in Novara. The humidity unbearable. Italians have electrical power problems. Ergo, little air conditioning. I slept in Novara that one night with no air.

Fortunately, only one night in Novara. Then to Courmier. Courmier is the area in northern Italy immediately before France. I am staying a couple of nights in a condo there.

The drive from Novara to Courmier took 2 hours. The speed limit was 85. I was the only one doing it. They were passing me at 125 miles per hour. Each time a car went by, I did not see it for long, but heard it loud and clear. A long swishing sound.

I stopped at a super market before going to the condominium. Needed breakfast goodies. The parking lot was an eye opener. The parking spaces were all half the size of those in the U.S. The cars small also. No big cars here. I was driving a Fiat. Stick shift.

Italians pay $12 a gallon for gas. They learned q long time to conserve. We have not when it comes to cars. I doubt the American public ever will. The desire is for big and more big.

Courmier looks like a Swiss movie. Makes sense. Switzerland is only one hour away. Old stone homes. Hundreds if not a thousand or more years old. Stone with wood trimming. The stone is gray, the wood brown.

There is a lot of renovating going on. Huge cranes all over the hill sides.

Courmier is in the Alps. So is Chamonix, France from where I am writing this blog. The Alps are big. No question about it. I had never seen anything so big anywhere. Majestic.

Mont Blanc is huge. As far as the eye can see in any direction. Higher than anything I have ever seen.

Mont Blanc is not one peak jetting upwards. It is a series of peaks. Eleven peaks sitting on top of an already high broad miles long mountain. The whole thing is called Mont Blanc. One of the peaks is specifically named Mont Blanc. The biggest of the big. Four thousand eight hundred ten m. I do not know what the m means. Suffice it to say, there ain’t anything bigger!

Mont Blanc is beautiful. Breathtaking.

The condo I am enjoying was two bedrooms. The building all stone. Two private balconies.

My intent was to drive to Chamonix the first evening and have dinner in France. Only a half hour away. I was too tired. It was bed for me.

Courmier is a valley. About two thirds the way up Mont Blanc. I was glad I had jeans. It is cold that far up.

Many power lines run along and on the mountains. Italy has a power shortage. France does not. France has nuclear reactors producing electric power. The Italians buy much of their electricity from France. At a premium price. The Italians voted at one time to ban nuclear reactors in Italy. A costly decision dollar wise. Whether health wise is another question. I make the observation because France and Italy are so close. Any French nuclear disaster would pour down on the Italians.

The drive from Novara to Courmier was interesting for a number of reasons. One had to do with castles. So many. Each built high on a hill. A small one. Apparently making it next to impossible for an enemy to scale the walls.

The castles were about a mile apart. I recalled that way back when there were many Italian kingdoms. Each with its own king. They warred constantly. It was easy. They were each a mile distant from each other. One hour’s walking time. Less on a horse.

Churches everywhere. Apparently each castle had its own church. The church was an integral part of each kingdom.

That is the end of Day 35. I had intended to go on to the next day. Day 36. A rendition of my first day in France. However, I am too tired. I apologize. The trip is starting to get to me. I will pick it up here tomorrow. You will love the glacier and snow stories, the dramatic drop in temperature, and the high quality of Italian roads and bridges. And more.

Enjoy your day! I am mine. I know this is the trip of a lifetime and one I will never do again.