N. Italy

I am in northern Italy, have just sent 2.5 hours worth of emails trying to line things up for Turkey, which is the next stop after Switzerland to finish off my rail pass.

I returned to Rome tired and a bit demoralized. It's lame to be demoralized when visiting Italy, and I think there was a quarter liter of vino in Bologna that helped me over the hump (I am rather a lightweight). I'm now on Lake Maggiore just on the border between Italy and Switzerland.

I thought of many brilliant things to say in the past days of hours and hours of train rides, with more to come (hours of train rides, that is), and I will try to remember them quickly before the sun goes down and I'm hiking back to the Servas "agritourism" farm in the dark.

One of my occupational dreams growing up was to be an actress, make that movie star, and Abby would raise my kids. Well, a few weeks before returning home, I asked her to bring me her castoff clothes because all of my clothes for the winter burned up. She obliged me, and even bought me a few new pieces. All of that leading to the fact that she is one of about three most fashionable people I know.

And I think now I will raise her kids if she will do all my clothes shopping for me. Pictured with her is Grandma Pat. She was also my benefactor, and I'm humbled to say, gave me the coat off her back when I asked her for it. Jeremy gave me his second winter coat, but it was huge, and when I caught sight of her new one from Cabela's, which Bankaw gave her as her consolation for not getting to go there herself, I asked her for it. And they gave it to me.

Kickin' it with the best man at the rehearsal. Sorry Mick, but when Gr. Pat saw him, she asked if he was wearing a Groucho Marx nose. He was not.

Alps from the airplane
Cinque Terre

Cinque Terre
On the advice of one of Tara's bridesmaids, Kara, a Dutch beauty, who took the same plane from Sioux Falls to Chicago with me and we shared a salad at Chili's at O'Hare, I went to Cinque Terre. It is five villages that are one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. Maybe like if Roman fisherman would have gotten a hold of Malibu before Southern Californians did.

Lago Maggiore