Part 2…Rainy day road trip to the walled city of Lucca…

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Venturing off away from the crowds, we found our way to this archway through which we entered Piazza Napoleone which is now used as local government buildings, also hundreds of years old, worthy of visiting but attracting less tourists.
The opposite side of the archway above as we entered the Piazza Napoleone square that housed government offices in these amazing structures.

As we continued on our rainy walk through the walled city of Lucca, we were reminded of all of the other villages, towns and cities we’ve visited in Italy. They all were filled with rich history, centuries old buildings and a strong sense of pride in maintaining the integrity of its original design and intention.

Palazzo Ducale in Lucca is located in Piazza Napoleone.  Decorated in the center is the statue of the Criminal Lucca Francesco Carrara.


Imagine a government worker taking a break during the day to sit outside in Piazza Napoleone, read a book, and relax. The Italians, as many European countries consider an afternoon break from their work as sacred. That is why we’ve surmised, that they engage in “happy hour” until after 9:00 pm after working later into the day.


Again the rain picked up so we scurried on our way in a feeble attempt to avoid getting soaked.

There is no doubt in our minds that the appreciation of a country in its heritage is indeed a treasure for its visitors and residents alike. The care the Italian people have given to their expansive history is evidenced in the fine condition of these treasures, a gift they bestow upon the world for all to see.

Taking off in another direction from the government square, we walked on this road as the rain pelted us as we sought shelter in various doorways.


Here is the summer music festival schedule, attracting visitors from all over the world. Had it not been a rainy day, the streets would definitely be more crowded.


This statue was protected from the crowds that most certainly filled this area at night during the Summer Festival rock concerts.


The stage area for the evening rock concerts occurring almost every night during the Summer Festival, attracting visitors from around the world.

Of course, we must give credit to the designers and architects who originated and built these historic monuments to ensure their works would live in the future for many to enjoy. Mission accomplished.

We weren’t able to get close enough to see the inscription on this statue with a sudden rush of tourists in our way.

 

This is the above mentioned sudden rash of tourists, we encountered, many dining under the umbrellas seeking shelter from the off and on rain.

Thank you, Italy! We’re grateful for the experience!

There were numerous residential areas in the walled city, most with parking exclusively for tenants, requiring a windshield sticker.
Working our way back to our car brought us to a few less historical spots and a number of dining venues. Notice the cutouts of Humphrey Bogart James Dean on the wall of this restaurant.
A few areas inside the walls of Lucca were worn and yet to be restored, such as this.
Everywhere we go in Italy we find bell towers. We were unable to go inside this church to take photos, which was prohibited. Once inside a fee was imposed to get closer to the altar. We were content to look from afar.
An awaiting horse and buggy for romantic or weary tourists.
After exiting the walled city by car, we were reminded of our earlier parking challenge (described in yesterday’s post), grateful that we were able to see as much as we had.  On our return, we stopped at the grocery store for a few items in Pescia, before continuing on the winding hairpin turn drive to Boveglio, happy to be safely home once again.

Part 1, Rainy day road trip to the walled city of Lucca…

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Lucca aerial view in the “borrowed” photo.  The remainder of the photos are all ours, some blurred due to the pouring rain.

After commenting in Sunday’s post regarding the recent lack of soaking rain, we took off on Monday morning amid an ominous looking sky. Would our long-awaited road trip to Lucca be spoiled by rain?

We were driving around the walled city of Lucca in the pouring rain looking for a parking spot.
As we made our way around the exterior of the walled city of Lucca, we traveled under this canopy of trees.

Halfway down the mountains, we realized that we should have brought the umbrella in the stand by the front door. Do we turn back calling it a day or forge ahead risking getting soaked?

As we waited our turn to enter the one-way road to gain access inside the walled city. We’d waited long enough for the rain to stop and the sun came out.  We were anxious to get inside before it started again.
The walled city piqued our interest to the point that we were determined to find a decent parking spot close to the entrance. The rain was pelting the windshield and we didn’t want to walk any further than we had to without an umbrella.
I took a photo of this street sign near where we first parked outside the walled city of Lucca in the event we had trouble finding the car later.  This is the general location that Tom perused looking for a place to get change for the required parking sticker.

With the unpredictability of the weather changes in these hills, we hadn’t bothered to check the weather report having found it be relatively inaccurate when doing so. 

Once inside the walled city, we encountered several dead-end one-way roads requiring that we back up long distances. Cars were only allowed in specific areas with no signs indicating dead-end roads. Patience prevailed.

Sunday was by far the hottest day and night we’ve experienced since arriving in Boveglio six weeks ago. The night was steamy. The fan and opened windows offered little relief as we tossed and turned most of the night.  Monday morning, as we prepared to take off on our road trip the heat and humidity were unbearable. 

Would the rain ever stop and would we find a place to park?


The more we drove around, the more the rain picked up.

Hoping to leave around 10:30 am, we decided to leave early if only to get into the air-conditioned car. I can honestly say I don’t recall being that hot and uncomfortable since the day we visited the White Mosque in Abu Dhabi while I was sick with that awful virus and required to wear the long black abaya while the temperature was well over 100 degrees. 

Having poorly planned for the rainy day, our frustration level grew as we drove around looking for a place to stop.  Surprisingly, we both stayed calm and cheerful.  Gosh, that helps in these situations, doesn’t it?
As we maneuvered our way down the mountains through the usual hairpin turns Tom was mindful of the numerous signs warning “roads slippery when wet.” As the rain began to fall on the windshield in giant drops, we looked at each other wondering if we should have postponed our trip after all.
It was raining too hard to open the door or the window of the car to take a photo. Instead, once we were parked in this free parking spot by this church, we were within running distance to the restaurant where we had lunch while waiting again for the rain to stop which eventually it did, although not entirely.

“Ah,” Tom said, “we’re already committed. Let’s continue on.”

I agreed. Less than an hour later we arrived in the walled city of Lucca, rain pelting so hard, my attempts at photos taking were considerably hindered. Then the fun began!

Many of the old buildings were homes for local residents.  We wondered where they were able to park their cars.  We never encountered any hotels within the walls of the city although they may have existed. Outside the walls, the remainder of the city was hustling and bustling with tourists, restaurants, and lots of traffic.

Finding a parking spot in Lucca was an adventure in itself.  Keep in mind that Tom is not the most patient guy on the planet.  His frustration level exacerbates, minute by minute when he can’t find a spot causing him to drive too fast to be able to grab a suddenly available spot. 

As you can see, Tom was not thrilled with the Italian menu and lack of options befitting his picky taste buds. Too many items included many vegetables and an abundance of squiggly seafood, none to his liking. On the ships, he was more adventuresome eating escargot and Oysters Rockefeller. What happened?  He cringed when he saw the octopus tentacles on my warmed seafood salad.
This restaurant had an extensive menu, most in Italian.  All Tom wanted was a pizza with sausage, mushrooms, onions, and olives. When his pizza arrived it was uncut with a crispy thin crust making it difficult to cut. The sausages looked like rounds of hot dogs. To say the least, he wasn’t thrilled with the pizza, only eating a small amount.  My meal was extraordinary, full of seafood, perfectly cooked, and seasoned.

Desperately trying to bite my tongue and yet be of assistance as we drove around the walled city of Lucca in the pouring rain was challenging. 

Finally, after lunch, we began our three-hour walk through the walled city of Lucca.  Apparently, this building is a name according to Google Translate.

Gaining access to the walled city can be tricky when attempting to park outside the massive two-mile-long wall surrounding the entire city of churches, historic buildings, restaurants, and shops.  There were a limited number of access points requiring a substantial walk-in in most cases.

This is actually a stuffed pug in the window of a shop in the walled city. So cute!

Alas, we found a spot within a 15-minute walk. With the pouring rain and no umbrella, no hoodies, no plastic bags nor any hats we were stranded for a while. As we sat in the car, again Tom suggested we go back home and reschedule for another day. 

The side view of the Church of San Michele in San Michele Square.
The front view of the Church of San Michele in San Michele Square.
This statue is of Francesco Burlamacchi.
A more detailed view of the steeple on the Church of San Michele.

Mutually agreeing to wait in the car for the rain to let up, we thought we’d give it an hour. After all, we had come all this way. We watched other more ambitious tourists walked toward the walled city with their umbrellas, wildly flapping in the lofty breeze while getting soaked from the sideways rain.

This restaurant and outdoor café look appealing but we’d already had lunch.

After waiting 30-minutes, the rain let up enough that we exited the car to begin the walk to the city. Five minutes into the walk, Tom suddenly stopped at a ticketing type machine situated on a large post indicating (in Italian) that one must purchase a parking ticket before leaving their car unattended or they’d be towed. Oh, good grief! 

This may have been Piazza San Giusto.

Could we even imagine the nightmare of coming back to find the “sold” rental car towed away?  I thought it was weird that no other passersby were purchasing parking tickets at the machine.  The cost was Euro $1 an hour.  Estimating that we’d be in the walled city at least three hours, the cost would be US $3.96, not too bad after all.

The bigger problem was that we didn’t have a single Euro coin on us.  All the Euros coins we’d had were inside the plastic bags we’d hung on the windows and doors to scare off the flies. 

Tom handed me the car keys so I could go back to wait in the car to ensure we wouldn’t be ticketed or towed while he’d find a place to get change.  I began imagining that a cop would come by instructing me to move the stick shift car.  I hadn’t driven a stick shift vehicle in 25 years. 

This was my favorite statue in Lucca, Giacomo Puccini, famed composer of Madame Butterfly, La Boheme, and more. In the background are his house and a now-closed museum. His statue seemed to attract the most tourists, especially us opera lovers. Unfortunately, opera season is winter.  Otherwise, we would’ve seen a few, no matter how far we’d have had to drive.

And if I had to move the car after I made a fool of myself in Italian traffic, how would I tell Tom who was running around to find change? This was one of those times, a working cell phone would have been handy. But it was also the first time we’d be separated from each other in a public street. (Next country, we’ll be getting local SIM cards).

This mime painted white, as we’ve seen in other European cities attracted a considerable amount of attention, many tossing coins into his gold bucket on the ground.

I headed to the car. Tom took off across the street to find a place for change for a $5 Euro bill. While sitting in the car waiting I made a special point of watching to see if anyone, anyone at all, put money in the ticket machine to pull out a sticker to place on their parked car. Not a one! But that was the least of my problems.

The Pretorio Palace Clock.

When 20 minutes passed and Tom hadn’t returned, I started watching the only clock in my possession which was on the camera. When 30 minutes passed, I was looking at the Lucca map as to the closest police station.  What was taking so long???? What if something happened to him? What if two hours passed and he still hadn’t returned? A million possibilities ran through my mind.

We were in a busy commercial area of shops, bars, and restaurants.  I’d noticed a bank as we approached the parking area. Was he stuck in one of those “revolving bank tubes?” Was he kidnapped? Was he injured?

Matteo Civitali (1436-1502) was an Italian sculptor and architect.

The minutes dragged on. I promised myself to do nothing other than wait until a full hour passed.  hen I’d get into action, calmly and resourcefully.  My fear was for his well being, not for me being stranded without him. 

Overreacting would not be helpful. I’d made a plan that I’d leave a note on the inside of the windshield, stating that I’d gone to the police station a few blocks away and to look for me there. The clock ticked away. My heart thumped in my chest.

Finally, at 40 minutes, I saw Tom briskly walking in the returned rain down the long sidewalk, anxious to get into the shelter of the car. Sighing a sigh of relief, explaining my worry about him, he proceeded to tell me his awful experience at the bank across and down the street, a long convoluted story of waiting in line. 

He was behind a customer in line who appeared to be purchasing a home while a solitary teller was busy copying page after page of documents, one at a time, with the printer in another room, having the customer sign one page at a time. As time marched on and not wanting to give up, he waited impatiently, all the while waving his $5 bill, hoping someone would help him. I get it. I wasn’t mad, just worried.

As we woefully looked at each other, the rain now furiously pelting passersby, having not yet put the money in the machine, we decided to take our chances and drive inside the walled city, unsure if this was even possible or if there would be a place to park.

Finally, we were inside in one of the limited interior peripheral free parking spots with the rain still pouring down as indicated in some of our photos.  Within the running distance of an opened restaurant coupled with the original plan on having lunch in Lucca, we ran for it. 

The restaurant, overflowing with customers coming in from the rain, was a quaint red checkered tablecloth kind of eatery.  Within 10 minutes we were seated at a table busily figuring out the Italian menu. 

I loved my gluten -ree warm seafood salad with mussels, clams, calamari, and octopus on a bed of steamed vegetables.  Tom didn’t enjoy his pizza, a medium-thin crispy crust pizza arriving uncut with sparse toppings, a far cry from our homemade pizza.  With a few menu items he was willing to eat, mostly seafood, he varied from our strict GF diet (with no ill effect for this single occasion).

US $35 later, we were out the door, as the rain gave us a welcomed reprieve to begin our long walk through the walled city.  Our parking spot by the restaurant didn’t require payment with us free to park for the entire period of our self imposed excursion. 

With an excellent map of Lucca in hand, kindly given to us by our new friend Michela, we were able to peruse the majority of the walled city visiting most of the highlighted areas of interest.  The rain was off and on, the heat and humidity consistent but we were content to explore, take photos, and the time rushed by.

Three hours later, we’d seen everything we’d hoped and were anxious to get back into the air-conditioned comfort of the tiny stick shift car. 

In Europe, taking a leak is an issue. One cannot walk into an establishment to use their “WC.”  One must make a purchase and then may pee.  Tom and I have learned to plan accordingly, drinking only one cup of coffee this morning, peeing before we leave the house, drinking no hot or iced tea before leaving and bringing only one bottled water to share, taking small sips as necessary in the heat. 

If we weren’t careful, we’d have had to put “pee” expenses into our budget.  No, thank you.  Pee should be free. We have a receptacle suitable for either of us, that we keep in the little car in the event of an emergency, which, I should mention, has been utilized.  Enough said.

Lucca was an interesting city.  The history of the walled city is here. Rain or no rain we had a good day experiencing yet another aspect of the rich Italian history.

Stop back tomorrow for Part 2 with the remaining photos and commentary.  Thanks as always, for stopping by!

A procession, live music… A ripe zucchini… An odd solution to drive away the flies…

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Sandwich sized Ziplock bag clipped to the railing of the veranda with clothespins with the intent of keeping houseflies from bothering us, biting us and from coming inside the house.

Last night, as darkness befell Boveglio, a procession of parishioners commenced originating in the old church with the loud bell tower that we’d videotaped a few weeks ago. (Please see archives for June 30, 2013).

Here are our videos of the procession. Bear with us, it was dark:
Video #1 – As the procession left the church and entered the road
Video #2 – As the procession was maneuvered up the road
Video #3 – The procession as it made its way passed our house
Locals walking on the steep roads during the procession last night.  The woman on the far left in navy blue is our own, Santina, our precious cleaning lady.

Much to our surprise the marching band and followers walked the long, steep roads traversing past the door to our house as they continued on to the square near the Bar Ferrari.  

As we stood outside on the road, outside of our house, as the procession stopped for a few minutes for prayer. There’s Santina again in navy blue. Notice the heels on her shoes!

Making the video in the dark was difficult when we wanted to avoid blinding them using flash and thus our video is hard to see. Their safety on the dark winding roads superseded our desire to make an easy to see the videos.

The shrine, across the street from our house, was well lit with candles and the focus of the prayer led by the priest as we stood outside of our house.

Many of the parishioners carried candles, illuminating the way for the marching band.  Need I say, it was a delight to behold.  Our vantage point made the festivities all the more exciting, being able to watch the beginnings from our veranda and later from the road outside our front door.

The locals were dressed in their finery with many of the older women walking the long steep trek in 2″ high heels.  Oh, I’d better stop whining about climbing these steep hills, casually dressed while wearing tennis shoes!  They were a sight to see, quite an inspiration.

Zucchini from our garden???

Our solitary zucchini which grew in the garden on the patio.

Years ago, I had a garden in the overly wet soil in the only sunny spot near the lake at our home in Minnesota.  Amazingly, much of the produce we’d planted actually ended up in the kitchen while I feverishly made salsa, a plethora of zucchini recipes, and myriad dishes made with a variety of peppers. 

The tomatoes didn’t do as well in the soil or in the pots we’d placed around the yard. As a result, I made a determination that my thumb wasn’t green enough to be a garden enthusiast and I stuck to small herb gardens. 

Eventually, I converted to an Aerogarden, a lighted indoor garden given to me by my dear friend and business partner Theresa which ultimately kept us in herbs year-round.

Arriving in Boveglio on June 16th, two large planters were prepared for us to tend, literally jammed with herbs, tomato, and pepper plants in their infancy. Unfortunately, flowers had been planted as well, attracting many bees of which we’re allergic. 

As a result, we used the herbs regularly but didn’t spend much time tending to the care of the planters, other than an occasional watering with the hose provided. 

For some reason, yesterday, I decided to get rid of some of the weeds and dead leaves spending a little time to hopefully giving the garden a chance to grow. Wouldn’t you know? I stumbled across this 8″ zucchini with what appears to be more on the horizon.

With renewed interest in the garden, Tom immediately began watering again taking special care.  This one zucchini gave us hope.  Ironically, we had purchased a basket of 8 zucchini when grocery shopping on Monday some of which I’d used the prior two nights to make a stir fry of zucchini, eggplant, and tomatoes seasoned with fresh garlic, basil, and rosemary from the garden.

This patio is where we suntan a few times a week.  These impatiens seem to attract the bees as do most flowering plants requiring us to pay special attention during our hour in the sun, quite close to the planters.
The second of the two planters.  As you can see, the giant leaves on the are those belonging to the zucchini.  It appears we’ll see more zucchini over the remaining summer along with the abundant herbs we’ve been using.

Why in the world do we have hanging Ziplock bags half-filled with water and a few coins in select areas of the house?

Tom and his retired railroad guys, friends, and family member send hundreds of emails between one another each week in addition to frequently posting on Facebook. Many are silly jokes and a wide array of goofy entertainment.

On occasion, a post or email may contain “how to’s” that work (or not) to ease one’s life in one manner or another. Over a year ago, Tom’s sister Rita and most recently a railroad friend, posted this information on how to get rid of annoying flies.

Recently, I’ve resorted to wearing my Exofficio Bugs Away pants at dinner each night to keep the flies from biting my legs which are intended for use on our upcoming almost year-long travels to Africa. 

It’s comforting to know that these pants and other such clothing we’d purchased online while still in the US, embedded with Permethrin, actually do keep the bugs from biting.  The product remains in the clothing after 70 washings. We have 69 washings left, having worn them on several of our excursions in the desert while aboard ship. 

The main purpose of this type of clothing is in the prevention of mosquitoes carrying Malaria from biting, as well as other insect-borne diseases (Of course, we’ll be taking anti-Malaria pills and, had numerous immunizations while in the US, many lasting up to 10 years).  However, some insect bearing diseases have no prophylactic medication or appropriate vaccination).

In any case, when this “home remedy” with Ziplock bags came down the pike several days ago, we began our own research.  The efficacy of this remedy is disputed and confirmed by many reliable and less reliable resources.  Studies had been done, not under ideal conditions which are often the case in certain studies.  The most substantial validation of this simple process was the general public in 1000’s of comments and reviews all over the web.

Here’s a Ziplock bag half-filled with water and a few Euros to ward off house flies. See the story for the results of using these well-placed bags over the past 48 hours.

At times, when a household remedy is used, naysayers say the results are “psychological” or “the placebo effect.”  Keeping flies at bay is hardly either of these. Are they less intrusive after two full days of use?

Ziplock bags are not sold in Italy.  Luckily, we have many with us that we’d used in our luggage to contain small items and bottles that could potentially spill. Dumping the contents of several of the sandwich-sized bags (the only size we have with us), we tested them for holding water.

Here are the instructions for this housefly deterring remedy. There are dozens of websites debunking this supposed Internet legend. What did we have to lose to put a few Euros (no pennies with us) in plastic bags in a few choice spots around the house:  the kitchen, the patio where we keep the door open for air during the day, and the veranda where we sit outdoors most days?  We could reuse the bags after drying them and put the Euros back in Tom’s pocket if it didn’t work.

The definitive answer is “YES!”  It works! Without wearing the Bugs Away pants since we clipped up the three bags, I don’t have one new bite, not during the day, not during dinner. 
We’ve actually watched the flies attempt to fly in, immediately heading back outdoors. Now, we can sit on the veranda with only an occasional crawling insect.  With the kitchen windows opened from the time we awaken until bedtime, we’ve only killed or chased off a total of three houseflies, as opposed to the dozens we were dealing with only days ago.
Why does it work? From what we read, flies have a powerful vision, including peripheral vision.  When they see the bag with the water’s reflective light, they perceive it as some life-threatening creature, heading the other way.
It works for us. With the hottest period of Italy’s summer fast approaching, we no longer have to keep the windows shut in these three areas, where we spend most of our time.  The bedroom door and windows continue to stay closed around the clock, considering the fan we use at night. 
Thanks, local residents for the procession of last night.  Hello, zucchini. We’ll dine on you tonight. And most of all, goodbye houseflies!
At the end of today’s post, there is an explanation as to why we have a Ziplock bag of water hanging near to the door to the patio where the planters are growing herbs and vegetables for our use over the summer.

Thinking, worrying, dreaming about traveling to Africa in less than 6 weeks…

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Borrowed Diani Beach photo.  Soon we’ll be able to post our own photos.

In a short time, we’ll be living in Diani Beach, Kenya for three months. It’s hard to believe. All of my life, I’ve dreamed of going to Africa. Tom, not so much. He’s coming around.

As we’ve traveled, anticipating the next location brings many questions to mind, some nagging at us from time to time. I’ve hesitated to do the research again until now, as I did a year and a half ago while planning our travels before leaving the US. At that point, we didn’t necessarily know all of the points of consideration, as we do now.

This could be any of the many photos we took on the beach in Belize.  As we’ve traveled, we’ve found that each beach has its own breathtaking beauty, memorable in its own way.

As soon as my laptop fired up this morning, my fingers flew across the keyboard looking for answers to questions that popped into my head during the night last night when I awoke t 3:00 am, finally able to fall back asleep an hour later with a list embedded into my brain in which to address this morning.

All of the answers to our questions were answered via many websites I found this morning, many more than available when researching 18 months ago.

1.  How is taxi service in the area? The cost? We’ve heard that tourists should avoid driving around Kenya, using taxis and drivers for safety reasons.
2.  Is there a reasonably good sized grocery store nearby?
3.  What is the currency exchange? Is there a nearby bank in order to exchange currency?
4.  Are there restaurants nearby? With it so far to restaurant while in Boveglio, it would be ideal to dine out a few times a week. 
5.  Is there a nearby barbershop for Tom? Although I didn’t find a specific barber, there were references to a few local barbers near the three shopping malls.
6.  Review the facts about our rental property laundry, kitchen facilities, amenities. Now that we have a better handle on what we do and don’t need, its interesting to be reminded of what will be available.

Reviewing these and other links put our minds at ease for the time being. Trying hard not to project or anticipate in excess, in order to live in “the moment.” 

Although I do have a little angst about the 24 hour time period that it will take to travel to Mombasa, Kenya, arriving at 3:00 am, taking a cab for the one hour drive to the house. 

Staying up all night isn’t as easy as it was when we were younger nor is sleeping on a plane. Perhaps, if I “reframe” the scenario in my mind that it is “only one full day” out of a life full of many other pleasurable days with many more to come.

Invasion of biting insects…Ouch!

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Yesterday afternoon, while chopping and dicing for dinner, I felt two sharp stings only seconds apart on each of my calves.  Startled by the sharp pain, my eyes darted around the kitchen for the nasty culprit(s), dishtowel in hand, ready to snap the life out of the perpetrator. 

Actually, I’ve become quite good at this task since I’ve spent more time in the kitchen with a towel in hand than looking for a fly swatter which is rarely handy at the opportune moment.

With the temperature in the low 90’s with humidity to match, it was impossible to keep the kitchen window shut, hoping for the little breezes that swoop off of the mountains periodically.

Most often having the kitchen window open attracts bees and typical houseflies.  Conscientious about keeping the kitchen clean and free of food debris, we’ve managed to keep the indoor flying insect population at bay.

Not yesterday.  It must have been the barometric pressure.  The horseflies were on a mission to visit me and dine. For some odd reason they seem to be attracted to me, not Tom, who seldom is bitten by anything, other than the relentless no-see-ums in Belize and the mosquitoes in Minnesota, jokingly referred to as the State Bird, when in fact the loon is the State Bird.

Dining in the kitchen last night was not fun, although we had a delicious meal of homemade mozzarella cheese stuffed Italian meatballs, topped with savory marinara sauce with sautéed mushrooms, locally made Parmesano/Reggiano cheeses, a side of grilled eggplant, seasoned with herbs from our own garden and of course, our favorite giant bowl of coleslaw. The locally grown horseflies were in Heaven with the smells wafting through the air.

Not one to wear perfume and scented products (one learns this living in Minnesota) it must be my personal scent that flying and biting insects find appealing. I found this recent article that unfortunately, didn’t provide me with a clue as to why biting insects bite me.  It’s always the same old, same old, as I sit here on the veranda with flies buzzing my head as I write this, Tom within four feet of me, safe from the wrath.

Still waiting to hear back from Budget Car Rental about swapping out our “sold” rental car, having canceled our road trip plans, we decided we’d shop for groceries today. With careful meal planning every two weeks, we found ourselves running low on a number of staples. 

Our plan was to enjoy our morning coffee with a light breakfast with a plan to head down the mountains to our favorite market in Pescia, Esselunga, almost 30 minutes away. 

Routinely checking our email during coffee time, I sat at the kitchen table, showered and dressed for the day, thoroughly savoring every swallow of fine Italian coffee, topped off with equally fine real cream.

Aware of the possibility that last night’s horseflies may still be in the vicinity along with a few bees that had joined in the festivities, my trusty white dishtowel was on my lap ready to go into action.  Distracted by a noteworthy article that popped up in my Facebook account, I didn’t notice when a flying thing landed on my towel close to my right hand. (I later noticed a smidgen of red sauce on the towel from last night that most likely attracted the creature.

Ouch!  Something bit me so hard on the pad of my palm that I literally jumped out of the kitchen chair, swatting wildly with the towel. Immediately, my hand began to swell. Our concern; not the pain, the swelling, or the redness, but was it a wasp or hornet sting that, with the intensity of the pain, set us on a path of response?

Both Tom and I are dangerously allergic to bees (used as a catchall phrase for certain flying stinging things). Last time either of us had been stung, we ended us in an emergency room, receiving Epinephrine and Cortisone injections, antihistamines, and ice packs for days.

Based on the intensity of the sting, I had no alternative but to assume it was a bee sting and react accordingly.  Of course, as we’ve mentioned before, we have several EpiPen in our medical kit in the event of such an occurrence.

Overreacting is pointless but a solid plan in place that we had previously rehearsed immediately went into action. Here were the steps we took:

1.  Immediately, I put a Benedryl tablet under my tongue for rapid absorption.
2.  Grabbed the EpiPen, reread the instructions, and placed it in my jeans pocket in the provided case. Is breathing compromised?  If so, use the EpiPen before completing the following.
3.  Used a credit card to wipe off any excess venom and stinger.
4.  Washed my hand in warm soapy water,
5.  Checked the bathroom mirror for any redness around my throat, chest, and groin area, all of which, for both Tom and I, were the bodily areas to react within minutes, besides the site of the sting.
5.  Made an icepack, promptly placing it on the affected area of my hand.
6.  Put on shoes, grab wallet and ID, more Benedryl, EpiPen, ice pack, and towel and head out the door.

Please keep in mind, the above is what we will do. Please consult your physician for instructions appropriate for you and your family members. 

Our plan was simple.  We’d drive toward Pescia where the grocery store is located along with the closest hospital to Boveglio. Normally, if there is a reaction to a bee sting it is within minutes, not hours.  It would take us a half hour to arrive at the hospital. 

With the actual use of the EpiPen, it is highly recommended that the patient immediately receive medical care.  This is a life-threatening occurrence for many people such as us, with proper medical care subsequent to the injection vital to ensure against further possible consequences. 

If there was no swelling of my throat, no systemic rash, and no massive swelling at the site of the sting, most likely it wasn’t a bee sting but a horsefly.  As we traveled down the mountain with no further reaction, Tom driving quickly but safely on the multitude of hairpin turns, I became convinced that it wasn’t a bee sting.

By the time we drove into the Esselunga grocery store parking lot, one euro was in my hand to pay for our grocery cart, my smartphone was in the other hand with our grocery store app loaded with two week’s of grocery items, and I was feeling fine.  We’d made it in 27 minutes, a good trial run.

Although a little sleepy from the Benedryl, I was ready to shop, leaving Tom in the car to read a book on his smartphone while he’d wait for an hour and fifteen minutes to come to find me. With not a word in English in the entire store, my former one hour shopping time had turned into almost two when we came to Tuscany.

In the past, getting a horsefly bite would result in a badly swollen and inflamed appendage or body part. Not the case today.  Although the now three bites (the two calf bites and the hand bite) are itching like crazy, I’m happy as a clam to having been spared.

As I write this now, I’ve moved inside to our bedroom, the totally bug-free zone where we never open the windows, use a floor stand fan and keep the bedroom door shut around the clock.  Usually, we feel fairly “safe” on the veranda with no flowers or plants nearby but today, after they were “buzzing” around my head, I’d had enough and came indoors.

Soon, back to the kitchen to make dinner, clean dishtowel in hand, I’m ready to snap those flies into oblivion to be able to enjoy another blissful evening of fine food, playing a little Gin, watching a favorite show, and idle chatter with my hubby.

In any case, it was good practice. I doubt Africa will be a bug-free zone! After digging through my suitcase, I found my Permethrin anti-insect long khaki pants, deciding to wear them during dinner. Let’s see how that works!

What?…Rental car issues!…Classic European cars guessing game…Please help…

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#1 Is this an MG?  Year?  Notice at a distance, the red Ferrari or Lamborghini.

This morning as we sat on the veranda Tom pointed out a procession of classic-type European cars coming up the winding road, fast approaching our area.  Were they on their way to a car show?  Running in my bare feet to take photos, I grabbed the camera and dashed down the stone steps, unlocked the front door (which is tricky), and headed outside, barely in time to take these shots as the cars buzzed by.

There is only one road leading in and out of Boveglio, one heading north, the other south, requiring anyone driving the general area, travel this option, directly passing our house.

Standing on rocky steps, I did my best shooting these photos as the cars whizzed by at surprisingly fast speeds for such a narrow village road. 

Tom’s expertise is in American cars, not foreign cars.  He’s identified these the best he can.

Can you identify any of these cars for us? The make.The model? The year? Correct us if we’re wrong! Please comment using the assigned #’s for each car, at the end of this post. We’ll make corrections based on your comments.

#2 Is this a Mercedes?  If so, which model, year?
#3 Is this a Porsche?  Model?  Year?
#4 Is this a Porsche?  Model?  Year?
#5 Is this an MG?  Model? Year?
#6 Is this a Mercedes?  Model?  Year?
#7 Is this a Triumph? Spider?  Year?

Please read below for the ongoing unbelievable rental car situation!

Without an actual phone number with us, with access to Skype, only my sister had offered that we use her cell phone number when a number was required such as for a car rental, airline reservation, etc. If she received a call for us, she’d only need to email us the name and number to return the call and we’d make the call via Skype.

On Thursday, she received such a call from Budget Car Rental at Marco Polo Airport in Venice. They called to inform us that our rental car was sold and to immediately return it to Venice, a five hour drive each way. 

Are you kidding me????

Prepaid until September 2, 2013, do they expect us to drive for 10 hours, stand in line for another two hours to get a different car, pay for gas at US $7.50 a gallon, tolls along the drive, meals, la la la???

Only a week ago, after an excruciating week of trying to reach someone who spoke English, they sent us a new extended contract, charged our credit card US $1356 to extend to our desired date when we’ll return the car to Marco Polo Airport in Venice when its time to fly to Kenya.

Trying to reach an English speaking person at Marco Polo by phone was fruitless. The thought of beginning that painstaking process again made my stomach hurt. Thus, I began an email campaign, sending no less than two messages a day requesting management respond to address this issue.

Finally today, Sunday, a manager returned the message saying they will either bring us another car to Boveglio in the next few days or they will require, we bring the car to a closer location such as Florence, which is still a two hour drive each way.  The manager said he will work on it and get back to us.

With a hotel reservation booked for our upcoming road trip on Tuesday, we had no alternative but to change our plans, leaving us and the car-free to respond to their decision. 

Immediately upon receiving this message this morning, with a 48-hour cancellation policy on our hotel reservation, I knew I’d better get to work to cancel the reservation. That in itself was not as painless as one may think.

Our reservation check-in time is 1:00 PM Tuesday, giving us more than 24 hours to cancel.  Ha!  Inexperienced traveler such as I in staying in hotels booked online (with little travel over the prior 15 years while living in the US) didn’t think that the 48-hour cutoff began at midnight last night, as opposed to check-in time on Tuesday.  Our 48-hour window no longer applied.

Having booked the reservation with Hotels.com I immediately logged into their website in a pointless attempt to cancel, leaving me no alternative but to call using Skype. After a half-hour on the call, our reservation was canceled at no charge, freeing us up to deal with the car. 

Now, we’ll wait to hear back from Budget as to how we’ll get the replacement car.  I can’t imagine how this is not going to cost us something, gas, expenses, or arbitrary charges. We had read reviews of potential issues when renting a car in Italy. 

Reminding myself to take a deep breath, I know this is a part of the experience, perhaps a price one pays, literally and figuratively, for having the opportunity to travel the world, as unencumbered as possible. So it goes. 

I settle myself down having vented here, realizing in the realm of things, its really a small inconvenience. We have our health, we have each other, the weather is beautiful, we have “our people” who love and miss us as we do them, and the future is open and bright for us two homeless wanderers.

With our road trip now on hold, pending the car situation, we settle back into our routine, playing a little Gin, lounging on our chaise lounges in the sun for an hour every other day, walking the hills in the neighborhood, taking a trip to Pescia for groceries tomorrow and enjoying a fabulous dinner we’re preparing for tonight.

Hope to hear back from you car aficionados!

Treasuring the village of Boveglio and its residents…A visit to a local B & B with photos…

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The flowers of Tuscany never cease to amaze us.  The colors, the smells, the varied designs make them appear more artist rendered than real life itself.
Old fashioned community washing pool, where locals gathered to do their laundry.  The larger is for washing. The smaller sink is for rinsing.  Of course, they’d bring their laundry home to dry outside their windows.
Me, in the old apron, hanging on a hook in the above photo and Michela, ready to rinse the clothes.  Talk about authentic! I like doing laundry but I don’t know if this would be as convenient.

As mentioned many times in our posts, nothing in our travels pleases us more than the opportunity to meet and interact with the locals. It is from these experiences that our travels become more meaningful and enriching. 

Unfortunately, in the small community of Boveglio with a population of only 150, meeting local residents has not been easy. Add the language barrier and we’re left with little opportunity to mingle. That may change after a special day today.

With non-existent Italian language skills, we’ve found ourselves making feeble attempts to communicate in the hope of acquiring a sense of the village and its culture. 

Santina, our delightful cleaning person was here today. We’re stay on the veranda as she busily performs her tasks for two hours at a total cost of US $20.85. Close to my own age, she’s a whirling dervish, full of energy, enthusiasm and brute strength.  I see this as she works wishing I had her stamina.

She wears a dress, a flowered print with a waistline, as most of the adult women wear in Italy, with a full apron when cooking or cleaning. Her attire easily reminds me of the 1950’s with my mother wearing a “shirtwaist” flowered print dress while standing in the kitchen also wearing an apron.  Oh, how times have changed!

Today, when she arrived, I had typed a message to her in Google Translate which she fully understood requesting that she not open the windows in the master bedroom. These past few weeks that we’ve been fortunate to have her fine services she’s opened all of the windows to aid in the drying of the stone floors. Of course, a zillion flying things came inside. If we can protect the bedroom for bug-free sleeping, we’re content. 

The entrance to Not Only Pinocchio along the narrow road.

Here’s a short video of Not Only Picocchio

She chuckled after reading the translation which apparently was clear and concise. I suppose she giggled at the availability and subsequent use of such a translation device for us to communicate.  But, for all we know, she has a computer at home playing games on Facebook at night.  I won’t ask.

To expand our horizons, I contacted the owner of the local B & B, Not Only Pinocchio, that we’ve noticed while making our way on foot to Bar Ferrari, the local pub. This particular long steep walk was depicted in a video we borrowed from a kindly gentleman we met online, which was taken while he was riding his motorcycle. Please see the archives on the right side of our home page for 7/17/2013 for the video.

Finding the email link for Not Only Pinocchio in the contact section on their site, I wrote asking for a tour of the property. Within hours we received a response from Michela, a delightful woman who much to our surprise, spoke some English. 

We’d hoped to visit and photograph the quaint B & B and share it on our site for our readers all over the world to see. As free advertising for them and for an opportunity for us to explore, it was a win-win. Today, at 2:00 pm as planned, Michela was waiting for us outside the B & B when we arrived early (as us older folks tend to do). 

The convenient kitchen with everything a cook could need at the B & B.


Michela enthusiastically explained the detail on this antique hutch in the kitchen.
This table in the kitchen, most likely covered in Formica in the 1950’s is well-preserved and ideal for this location.

Our perception is that their B & B is aptly named, “Not Only Pinocchio” to illustrate that one need not stay close to the town of Collodi which is only 20 minutes down the mountain and the birthplace of the story of Pinocchio. 

Tuscany, a much desired popular tourist destination, offers an endless array of rich historical significance attracting millions of tourists each year.

Too cute..the owners of Not Only Pinocchio, Michela and Luca Panigada! (Luca is a common male name in Italy).

Although there are numerous hotels within 30 minutes of Collodi, Michela and Luca chose to offer this unique B & B, away from the hustle and bustle of the tourist crowd in the village of Collodi and its surrounding communities. As one of a few small businesses located in the village of Boveglio, it never fails to honor the truest form of the Tuscan life.

The living room, well equipped with books, flat screen TV, WiFi and a variety of artworks Michela and Luca have accumulated over the years.

Michela, born in the region of Lucca, lived in Milan for many years. The draw of her father’s roots in Boveglio created a passion which she shared with us today, for the changing tourism business that continues to offer more and more opportunities for the smaller villages, such as Boveglio that provide unique facilities for tourists.

One of the two guest rooms with stone floors, artwork and antique furniture.
Michela was excited to show us the “mirror image” of duplicate artwork on the bedroom walls, repeated in the hallway.

Many tourists worldwide, such as ourselves, are pulling away from the traditional hotels in order to grasp the genuine flavor of a region such as Italy; the culture, the ambiance, living amongst “the people,” eating their authentic foods, basking in the simplicity of their centuries old lifestyles, often with less modern conveniences.

The second bedroom with a king sized bed.
The “included in the price” kid’s cubby.

Not Only Pinocchio enmeshes travelers in a welcome respite from the traditional busy, noisy hotel rooms and lobbies, reducing stress, add-on charges, and more often than not, a small, often uninvited single room with made-to-look-old accoutrements and furnishings. 

Favorite artwork by local artist, a good friend.

If authenticity is a tourist’s objective, Not Only Pinocchio, has it all. With two well-appointed guest bedrooms, either or both of which can be arranged at reasonable pricing, guests have access to an over-sized Tuscan kitchen, living room, cute cubby sleeping area for kids at no additional cost, all of which is appointed with all of the “must-haves” and so much more, including antique treasures each with their own special story.

A Picasso print, many of which are seen in Italian homes, proud of the art of Italy, steeped in historical significance, revered by art aficionados worldwide.

Playing a role in promoting local businesses, however small, adds yet another layer of enjoyment in our worldwide travels. This B & B, quaint in its décor, encompasses the full flavor of the Tuscan life which may be the ideal for travelers seeking more than a number of nights in an traditional hotel.   

Living in an authentic property whether for a night or months, such as we chosen to do, is the essence of memories that one will cherish forever.

Tom getting ready for the walk home.  See, his haircut is shaping up after all!

As is the case in our home for the summer, Casasottolatorre Villa Basilica, we are drenched in the semblance of life from another time in a manner one would also experience at a stay at Not Only Pinocchio.

Michela walked partway back with us introducing us to her neighbors, who’s garden we’ve admired when walking on other occasions.

Thank you Michela! We hope to see you again soon!

The tiny chapel where the local women pray in the evenings.  We’d noticed this structure when walking a few weeks ago but had assumed it was on private property.As Michela walked partway back with us, she showed us this little treasure which actually is on communal property.

Video of a motorbike ride in our neighborhood…

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As we research the web for added information about Tuscany, on occasion we encounter an entry that brings a smile to our faces. Such is the case when Tom found this video while he was conducting research for yesterday’s post.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8qEI5ehTzg

It was taken five years ago by a kindly gentlemen, Tage, a motorcycle enthusiast, whom we “met” online, when asking him if we could use his video for today’s post. 

He was great, enthusiastic to share!  His father was born in Boveglio and when he and his wife visited on their motorcycle in 2008, they took this video of the lengthy, hilly walk in the neighborhood in Boveglio, starting from the “square” near Bar Ferrari, ending near the parking lot where we park our rental car.

Had we made a video of this walk, it surely would have been too lengthy on foot. Using his, taken while riding his motorcycle, was perfect. 

When any of us post videos on YouTube.com we provide permission for others to re post our videos. It doesn’t require permission from the originator. However, we’ve found that “asking permission” to re post photos and videos is an excellent opportunity to make a new online friend and to provide them the satisfaction of knowing that others are enjoying their project.

So was the case with Tage. He couldn’t have been more delighted, as were we. Living in Italy, he extended an offer for he and his wife to meet us somewhere for coffee, should we be near each other at any time in our travels. Perhaps we will. 

The power of the web to connect people with similar interests is astounding. How did we ever manage travel without it?  How did we ever search for services, hotels, entertainment and transportation? Over the phone, most likely. Using travel agents when possible. Do travel agencies even exist anymore?

This morning, as we planned a road trip for next Tuesday, how would we have booked a hotel without the Internet? And, before the advent of phones and travel agents, would we have had to send a telegram or a letter, many months in advance?

I often remind myself how grateful I am that we’ve lived in this period of time as opposed to hundreds or thousands of years ago. How easy life is comparatively. Undoubtedly, we’d never have wanted this life as nomads, traveling the world with the difficulty of “making arrangements.”

Now, as we share our travels via the Internet, we find that the world is very small in many ways.  How ironic to find a video, five years old, of where we’re spending the summer in this tiny community with few tourists?   

As we continue on, we’re convinced that we’ll have access to the travels of others to incorporate into our own experiences, meeting fine people along the way, online and in person with the commonality of interest in expanding our knowledge of the amazing world around us.

Of course, when we leave next Tuesday, July 23, we’ll be bringing our digital equipment to ensure that wherever we may go, you’ll have the option of “traveling with us” as we share our experiences and photos.

Day #115 in lockdown Mumbai, India hotel…Is the “head in the sand” premise the best response during these times?…

The Borgias… Historical TV series about Italy… Reminds us of our location…We went exploring…More photos….

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These are the locked iron gates closing off easy access to the church. To get closer to the church tower, we’d have to walk through dense weeds. Knowing there are many ticks in the grass, we chose to drive to the other side with still no way to get closer to the church.
This unattached separate building on the church grounds may have been the original church on the grounds based on the above inscription near the entryway.
A portion of the entrance to the larger church.
This gate was also locked, preventing us from getting inside the church.
This translates to:  “the companionship SS V Del Rois,”  appears to be the name of someone of significance to these church grounds.

It’s ironic that we chose to begin watching Showtime’s series, The Borgias, a historical piece on the raucous lifestyle of the papacy in the late 1400’s Italy. Although filmed in Budapest, many scenes are of renowned Italian cities, many of them now familiar to us. 

The back view of the church and clock tower facing the cemetery.
Overlooking the iron railing around the cemetery prior before entering.

Able to download full episodes (with no commercials on any of the TV shows) on Graboid, a $19.95 a month download service, we’ve enjoyed watching one episode a night as we catch up from Season 2 and 3, having seen Season 1 in the US. 

Another view of a portion of the cemetery from the iron railing. A gate was also locked to the main entrance, but we able to enter through an unlocked side gate.
These steps were much steeper than they appear here, more so than many of the steps on the walk to Bar Ferrari in our neighborhood.  At the bottom of these steps, we found the unlocked gate allowing us to enter.
These were the first gravesites we spotted as we entered the cemetery.
Tom, ancestry.com obsessed, was fascinated with the stories revealed by the many headstones, names, dates, and photos.
Many gravesites had these oversized headstones.

Each night after dinner, we place my laptop on the coffee table in the living room to watch the highly entertaining series. The sofa in the living room, more than 100 years old, is lumpy and uncomfortable, but with the addition of a few well-placed pillows, we’ve managed to make it work for us.

The name Ferrari, as in the local bar, was depicted on many of the headstones.
Some of the headstones were quite impressive, both old and new.

With no appropriate plain wall in this house, we haven’t used our mini projector.  With 100’s of movies and shows downloaded on our portable hard drive, we’ll be able to continue to enjoy a few shows in the evening when we spend our upcoming nine months in Africa.

It was surprising that many of the headstones here in Boveglio weren’t older. The earliest date we saw was in the early 1800’s.  However, the oldest of the markers were embedded into the surrounding wall and difficult to read due to their age.
Most of the flowers were artificial as often is the case except for significant dates and remembrances.

Watching The Borgias, we’ve marveled over their use of the sound of the clock towers clanging while filming the show. Often, we’ve assumed it was the sound of one of the two bell towers we hear four times an hour, including during the night.  Located outside of our bedroom window we’re surprised how quickly we’ve become used to the sound which doesn’t awaken either of us at night.

Looking carefully, we could see this may have been born in 1832, passing on in 1898.

 

More Ferrari family members from Boveglio.
This may have been a husband and wife, or a father and daughter.

After one month in Boveglio we’ve posted many photos of this church and tower that our house overlooks.  Since arriving, we’ve wanted to have a closer look at the 100’s year-old structure and cemetery. It’s one of those places you can see, but it’s not easy to get today.

This old basin was working, we surmised it was most likely used for watering flowers.
One of these lost souls was born in 1844.

A few weeks ago, we drove down the steep hill only to be shooed away by some woman sitting in her car with the door open. Worried we were on private property, that the church had been sold as residential property, we left, not wanting to intrude.  With no one to ask about it that speaks English, we assumed we wouldn’t be able to get closer.

The view backed up at our home and the clock tower next door to us that clangs four times per hour, not necessarily at the exact same times, including during the night.  

On Saturday evenings, as the bells clanged loudly for over five minutes on two occasions, only minutes apart, we saw a man in a red shirt with two children, inside the tower. Unless they are the owners of the church, we decided that today, we’re taking our chances and driving down the steep road, to walk the remainder of the way to see the church up close.

Before driving back up the steep hill we stopped for this shot which was our only unobstructed backside view.

Satisfied that we’d seen all that we could by car and on foot, we maneuvered the steep inclines to return to the main road. With the sharp angle required to depart the narrow driveway, we had no choice but to travel much further down
the winding mountain road to a tiny turnaround spot we’d used on other occasions.

Each day as we write from the veranda with the fabulous views of the mountains covered with a wealth of lush vegetation, a perpetual fluttering of white butterflies, the melodic sounds of myriad birds, and the endless buzzing of bees flying around our heads, we are content.

Every 15 minutes or so, the clock towers clang as a reminder of the history of this magnificent area, the lives lived and died in Boveglio and the memories any of us are lucky enough to treasure in our hearts and minds forever.

Creatures of habit…Are we willing to change?…Queen of routine?…

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Its funny how we stumble across interesting articles on the web when we’re researching another topic, often leaving our original search in the lurch. It’s easy to forget our original thought as we become entranced by a new topic.

Today, while searching for information about “creatures living in Tuscany” I was taken to a great article about “creatures of habit.”

Laughing while getting sidetracked is normal for me when its a topic I’m drawn to regarding our habits which have become so obvious to us as we’ve left our old lives behind to begin anew. 

Bringing along our old habits didn’t surprise us.  They occupy no space in our luggage whether big or small, useless or useful, beneficial or harmful, annoying to one another or not, we brought along all of them.

Unfortunately, or not, we’ve discovered that our environment as we’ve moved from country to country, is not conducive to maintaining many of our old habits. The question for us has been.Shall we replace one habit with another more befitting our environment or,ilet it go entirely?

Without a doubt, we’ve reshaped many of our old habits, most of which are simple daily tasks that we adopted such as preparing the coffee pot at night to easily turn on in the morning, a task many of us habitually perform. Most likely, most of us have 100’s of such rituals we exercise each day, finding comfort in the routine, often performing these tasks without conscious thought.

Then, there are the others, the habits we believed we’d never change, never need to change as being harmless and insignificant in the realm of our daily lives. 

Suddenly, almost nine months after leaving Minnesota, those we’ve surrendered are glaring, as places we live force us to strip more and more habits away.  I must admit with a bit of trepidation, that I was the “queen of routine.”  I wasn’t bored by any means but kind of “stuck in my ways,” a state in which many of us see ourselves. 

Few of my habits were particularly harmful to myself or others, albeit annoying at times to my family and friends, less so to Tom. He’s always considered my quirks as mildly entertaining.

One cannot travel the world and find joy in the process while “being stuck in one’s ways.” Ultimately, it would create angst, frustration and unhappiness. What would be the point?

So, beside saying goodbye to the people we love and a lifetime of “stuff,” we’ve both had to say “goodbye” to many of the routines and habits that we thoroughly enjoyed, often looked forward to on any given day in our lives.

Here are a few of the habits each of us have forfeited in our travels:

For Tom:
1.  Reading the Minneapolis StarTribune newspaper every day of the week. Based on poor quality of the download service by the few companies that offered the daily paper, he was forced to quit, not replacing it with any other daily publication.
2.  Sunflower seeds, salted in the shell. Quitting smoking last Halloween when we left Minnesota, he’d taken up a replacement habit of eating sunflower seeds. Now, as we travel the world, we’re unable to find them at any of the local grocery stores.
3.  Turning on the TV, remote in hand, able to “flick” to his favorite TV shows at leisure, all spoken in English. There are two financial news show, BBC news and France News, here in Italy spoken in English plus, reruns of Jimmy Kimmel. 

For Jess:
1.  Eating dessert every night. With easy access to low carb, gluten-free, sugar-free, starch-free, grain-free products, I was able to make desserts we’d enjoy every night after dinner during our last year in the US; the perfect plate of dessert, a special fork and a neatly folded linen napkin eaten while watching a favorite pre-recorded TV show provided great comfort. This habit is gone. Ingredients to make any type of dessert are not available.  If I find myself hungry a few hours after dinner, I may have a piece of hard cheese. Habit gone. That was the hardest one for me. 
2.  Crystal Light Ice Tea:  for no less than the past 10 years, I had my insulated mug filled with this ice tea with lots of ice at my side most days and night, out and about, in my car, visiting family and friends. I gave it up a week ago.  ts not available here and we were running low on our supply. The ice tea is 99% caffeine free. It was habit. Its over now. I’m free, instead drinking bubbly water with lemon. Its OK. After a few days, I stopped thinking about it.
3.  Watching Dr. Oz (with whom I didn’t always agree with his many mixed messages but enjoyed none the less) and also, Dr. Phil, every afternoon, since retiring, I turned on these two shows while chopping and dicing for dinner, folding laundry, baking desserts or other productive tasks, never sitting down  just to watch. These shows are unavailable for downloading or streaming outside the US. We could pay for a service but choose not at this point.

They say, “old habits die hard.”  Yes, they do. For us, new habits replaced them such as with the bubbly water and lemon, watching downloaded shows and reading books on our phones. 

In the past, we’d dine at 6:30 each night. Now, we try for 7:00 pm. We used to awaken the same time each morning, going to bed the same time at night. Now it changes from day to day. I used to do laundry every day. With no dryer, the weather is a factor for hanging clothes. I used to go to the health club on the same days each week. Now there’s no health club within an hour and a half drive on the mountain roads. I work out in the neighborhood, walking the hills.

Looking at the clock on my laptop as I write this, I see that’s it close to 4:00 pm.  It’s tea (hot) time. That habit, I’ll never break. Although I’ve decided that when I run out of my favorite Taiwan Pouchon in the next month or so, I’ll start drinking Earl Grey which appears to be available everywhere we’ve been. So far, that is.