Signs that your day is not going to go as planned: 1. Your train comes screeching into the station 3 minutes early and you don’t recognize the conductor. Translation: this train is over an hour late and is a local, therefore making every precious stop on its way into town. 2. You just confirmed a date during your train ride. Translation: you just doomed yourself to a 30 minute delay. Keep in mind this one didn’t actually happen to me. The guy behind me made this fatal error. I’ve been receiving email alerts all day that my line is chronically late today. Whoever is meeting this guy at Uno’s on route 9 is in for a wait. 3. You just made a date at Uno’s and used the word ‘healthy’. Admittedly he said he hasn’t been there in ten years. I wanted to turn around and describe the last 3 meals I ate there, but I still have a chunk of potato skin lodged in my carotid artery from when we met our wedding DJ there 18 months ago. I like their food, but only in an ‘I remember when I used to do whatever I wanted to do’ kind of way. It’s a totally irresponsible place to go. 4. Your wife has informed you that you have some fun awaiting you in a room that is not normally associated with fun and you have not already planned fun for that day. Translation: This weekend M and I did our filing/ record cleanup.
You see, I come from a family of hoarders. (Un)fortunately, the house where I spent most of my youth is cavernous and signs of hoarding go unnoticed for great stretches of time, cleverly hidden by unused rooms and ornately carved cabinetry. I shouldn’t use the word ‘hoard’, since the stuff is mostly useful and attractive and the house is decidedly not filled with discarded packs of Salem 100s, pizza boxes and filthy kittens. Rather, one side of my family likes to keep mail. Lots of it. I haven’t seen the mail pile in a while but I heard it was mighty. Apparently it did serve a purpose and said pile should be taken care of at some point. I, too once had a mighty mail pile. It lived in a garbage bag hidden in M’s apartment. I would periodically sort my mail into ‘useful’ and ‘trash’. The useful mail was saved and surreptitiously concealed and brought over when I came to visit. Eventually, M found the pile and this glaring red flag was innocently explained away. Next, I purchased a shredder to contain this problem, but I was not allowed to use it while my roommate, a former Arthur Andersen employee, was home. I thought this was some sort of joke at first but he was adamant. So the shredder did it’s thing and now lives in the loft, where mail periodically migrates first from the 1st floor coffee table to the 1syt floor stairs, then to the 2nd floor stairs, then to the loft and finally into the shredder when the pile is large enough to swallow the shredder. Given this description, you can imagine what my ‘important papers’ pile looks like. In this area I am slightly exaggerating. I did at one point get organized enough to produce documentation proving I was worthy of buying a house. Although given the news lately, being approved to buy a house no longer carries the juice it once did. I even had a box for my files and every few months I would sort the pile and put the statements into their appropriate folder. The box lived in the guest room closet with M’s tidy little box. Lately this wasn’t so successful as M and I took turns stuffing the closet with our important papers like it was a Florida ballot box, and eventually M had enough. So this was the fun task that was created for Saturday. Nearly 10 years of financial and miscellaneous records needed to be sorted out. Given the ease of electronic bill paying, it’s possible that I would go months without opening certain statements. I never had to do the monthly sit down at the living room table with the calculator, checkbook and bills thing. I guess I’m spoiled. So now I have periodic paper binges to deal with instead. I had a folder with nothing but cell phone bills. Another with credit card statements on a card I’ve never used. I had 6 inches of old expense reports. There were electric bills, sewer bills, old leases, cable bills, bank statements, performance reviews, car repair receipts for cars I no longer own, insurance coverage sheets for cars I no longer own, 401k statements for closed accounts and 8 inches of completely random papers stuffed into it’s own folder that defied categorization. That was just the papers that had so far been previously opened and sorted. There was another foot of mail that was in a giant jumble. I am not immune here, however. While not as squirrel like, M’s archives extended back into banks that no longer exist and jobs long gone as well. Slowly, over the course of 4 hours we combined and collated the piles into a unified codex and produced a Himalayan pile of rejected archives. Perhaps I was destroying something valuable (might my cell phone bill from Cellular One appear one day on Antiques Roadshow? I doubt I’ll ever be that famous, but a drug addled boozehound business failure anti-intellectual trust fund Connecticut cowboy became president, so anything is possible). As with any good crime, the evidence is always the hardest part to clean up. The act itself is easy, almost liberating and enjoyable. The leftover and consequences are never appreciated until much later. In this case it was a decent sized snowbank of paper that was covered in account numbers and personal information that needed to be destroyed. Unfortunately, the lower class shredder I purchased wasn’t up to the task. In hindsight a ‘liberal elite’ model would have served me better. The motor kept overheating and the room smelled like paper dust and ozone, but at 6pm yesterday the job was largely finished. 4 stuffed kitchen bags of shredded papers plus a stack of non-important non-shredded papers were sent to the recycler, never to be seen again. The guest room closet is almost reclaimed. M and I purchased some plastic boxes that now hold gift wrapping and bags and are under a bed. I can only hope that this great open space stays open, in the spirit of a national park, and isn’t soon cluttered with the strip-mall of American households: old jackets and other un-throwaway-able items.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Recap
It’s kind of odd; the longer I didn’t write anything, the harder the thought of coming up with another post became. I hadn’t been like this since college, in the days of freaking out for 2 weeks and camping out in the library to cobble together a paper that didn’t display my total lack of ongoing research. I used to be pretty good at it, but like all skills that rust in the shed of disuse, my panic-work reflex is now a bright shade of orange and stuck solid. It’s true that a ton of stuff has happened since the last of my regular contributions. M and I went on vacation, I did my fantasy football draft, a hurricane crushed Texas and the world has more or less collapsed. Good times all around. I’ll start with the vacation, since that’s a mostly fun topic.
Things I liked about vacation: not going to work, sleeping in, spending 24 hours a day with M (it’s true) , not cleaning the kitchen, seeing vibrant and different cultures, interacting with new people, European coffee. Things I didn’t like about vacation: packing, 8 hour flights, hordes of people, not speaking the language, foreign currency, chain smoking Europeans, small cars. Our trip started off well. We worked at home, got a van to the airport and breezed through security. The 8? 10? Hour journey was uneventful. Lufthansa gave us some good meals and great seats. I watched Kung-Fu Panda while M tolerated Made of Honor. I was shocked by how many people on the plane spoke German. I heard them speaking English in the airport, then all of a sudden it turned into Hans and Franz on the plane. Nothing like seeing Der Spiegel being read to revive the horrors of 2 semesters of college German. Luckily I didn’t have to use any of the 5 words I remembered until our return trip. Sleeping on the plane was impossible, despite our luxurious travel pillows, eye masks and noise canceling headphones. We had a little layover in Munich where I was offered lots of help by exuberant Germans who mistook my attempts to admire their airport for looks of confusion. Ah that silly American… I think I’ll try my English now… Anyway, I needed some coffee and rather than attempt to deal with a FREE coffee machine, I ordered up the first of many scalding espressos from the bar. In hindsight I was probably too tired to deal with the machine and just wanted someone to do it for me, but explaining this to M was difficult. The flight to Florence was also uneventful, save for the fine mullet I spotted on a traveler from the Czech republic (I stole a look at his passport) This was to be the first of many powerful and luxurious mullets I saw in Europe. It seems that 80’s trailer park is the hot new look. I even saw some American students rocking these things. Keep your eyes out, they’re coming. We landed in Florence, took an insane cab ride to our hotel and got things started. It was hot out there, at least in the high 80s, but for some reason, I didn’t pack many shorts. I’d read somewhere that no one over there wears shorts. They either wear ridiculous Capri pants or they go long pants. So I packed mostly long pants and toughed it out. Really the first day got me worried, but by the end of our trip it was back to being cool and rainy, they way we’re used to seeing Europe.
Florence was over the top. Our hotel was one of the best we could get with Starwood points and as such M and I looked like we were staying with our parents. There wasn’t anyone within 20 years of us. Lucking that means no dice shooting in the hallways at 3am or crashing beer bottles in the elevators. The concierge did a great job guiding us around the city, which really wasn’t that hard to navigate. By the 3rd day, I was finding shortcuts like a local. Breakfasts usually consisted of us eating the remnants of the complimentary fruit bowl alongside muffins we brought with us. Lunch was usually something quick from a café or shop but the dinners were always an event. The two places the hotel recommended for us were some of the best eating I’d done at a restaurant. Proscuitto was a staple of lunch and dinner, as was tomato and mozzarella. M made sure we were never more than a couple of hours away from gelato, and I always got my espresso. I didn’t venture into any latte/machiatto/cappuccino territory that Italians are famous for, the regular burned stuff was fine for me. The second night we were there, M and I popped some pills (Advil PM) and set some sleep records. I put in a solid 13-15 hours, while M spent some time reading in the bathtub. After that binge, I think I had a little bit of a sleep hangover – my brain was slow, reflexes were off, I was stiff and a little loopy. Or maybe I was just starting to detox from the daily schedule I’d been in? Either way, I was having a great time getting out there and seeing the city. If you really wanted to be in a rush, you could ‘see’ the major sights in Florence in a day or two. Statue of David, Brunelleschi’s Dome, Uffizi Gallery, Pitti Palace, Ponte Vecchio and you’re done. Personally, I liked seeing them multiple times at different points of the day with different crowds and letting it all soak in for a while. While we were there, we did a side trip to Siena and tried to do a bike tour in Tuscany. Siena was good, although I could have behaved a little better and the bike tour got rained out. For me the city of Florence itself was the highlight. Aside from the mopeds, screeching fiats, wandering tourists/tour groups, everything we saw and did was entertaining.
Venice was the next stop. Everyone knows Venice is the city with the canals, but actually seeing the city that has no streets or cars is something I think everyone has to do at some point. It’s really indescribable to see it in action. I was skeptical of the need to take a water taxi to our hotel (highway robbery), but once we got there, the need became clear. There’s no way to navigate the city with suitcases in tow when there are thousands of tourists mobbing bridges and pathways that barely hold 3 people shoulder-shoulder. This was another big hotel point monster, but we got a perfect location and a really nice lobby out of the deal. The fruit bowl left something to be desired, but I’m not complaining. We did have a convention (some kind of Petroleum and Chemical Production Society) in the hotel, and they always came home late at night, thick with brandy or something and had their midnight cigars out in the courtyard under our window, which woke me up a couple of times. It was like having a hundred Thurston Howells milling around. I was a little scared Greenpeace or some radical group would find out and take down the hotel, but we escaped alive. Venice is another city that anyone bent on seeing all the sights in as little time as possible could probably do in 2 days, but we stayed and started living like the locals, which I really enjoy as a vacation style. While I wasn’t finding any shortcuts (the more I tried the deeper we got lost), we did find a hot chocolate place that sold doughnuts in the morning and we had a nice little routine going there in Venice. I think M liked it more than Florence. Beyond the tourist sights neither one has a ton to do, unless you’re an artist or creative type and are looking for inspiration or you’re insanely rich and want to boutique shop all day, but they both have a great energy and you can spend a few hours just soaking it all in.
There was a common theme to both cities, and that was the extreme wealth they both had for a while. I had to contrast that with the economic calamity that came pouring over the news I saw every time I looked. The only English TV channels were CNBC, Bloomberg TV and CNN, which of course covered the downfall of all economic gains made by anyone in the last 10 years. Europe was having some real difficulties of it’s own too, so we got a double dose of it every time we looked. There was a hint of a ‘tsk-tsk’ tone that some of the commentators had that irked me a little bit, but as we’ve seen lately, all the European countries are getting it handed to them. It was clear however, that the rest of the world is dreading a McCain victory and that they regard Sarah Palin as something of a curiosity instead of bona fide world leader. While it was the discovery of a route around Africa and the discovery of America that did in the great Italian merchant cities, I don’t see anything similar happening today. But if that it the case, I wonder what cities in the US will turn into quaint tourist mecccas for giant crowds of wealthy Indians and Chinese. Boston, maybe? In some ways New England is already there, with the great fishing and whaling towns now sought after tourist destinations.
As Venice started to wind down, we got ready for the last leg of the trip, a cruise through Greece and a stop in Croatia. The empty suitcase we brought along to haul souveniers homes was getting stuffed and the throwaway clothes that we scattered all over Italy were already gone, yielding their spots on the suitcases to other acquisitions. It was a little weird, the feeling that we were on 3 vacations at once, but I won’t say it wasn’t a satisfying one. Cruises are a little different style of vacation. The boat takes care of your food and accommodations and you’re on your own for what you do when the boat stops. This was the second cruise we’d been on, the first being a Caribbean one filled with spring breakers. We both hoped this excursion would be a little less MTV and a little more Discovery Channel, and for the most part I think we got what we were looking for. The crowd on board was definitely a lot older, but since school was in session I didn’t expect many children. When we checked in, the line was a little chaotic and we sort of cut another couple in line. Not really though, 2 ushers pointed us at the same window, M and I just happened to get there first and the other couple had to back and wait for another line. While I wasn’t feeling generous enough to let them cut us, I was worried we’d see the other couple throughout the cruise and risk them staring daggers at us. Sure enough we ended up getting seated with them at dinner. All of our tablemates were pleasant people. The forced friend aspect of the cruise dining was and still is a little odd to me, but it’s been very interesting both times. It’s a little like moving into the new dorm and meeting your roommates or the people down the hall. There’s the fact that you didn’t choose to be with these people specifically, and there’s a good chance that someone tried to pair you up based on some demographic clues they had about both parties. What did they base it on? You could get seated with a politically fringe person or someone with serious personality issues. By virtue of the fact that you chose this cruise specifically and paid for it, that assumes a similar set of interests and possibly equal economic states, so that’s something. As it turned out, we did get seated with the only other 4 25-30 year olds on the boat, or so it seemed. We had two people from Texas who lived in Southern California and two people from Michigan who lived in Northern California. Everyone was seemingly educated and extremely sure of themselves, which made for some pretty interesting conversations. The 6 of us got along well enough that we ended up hanging out after the dinners. One night we did a trivia contest. We lost because there are some islands in Japan that extend farther north than either Turkey or North Korea. And then I signed up to do a version of ‘The Weakest Link’ and got voted off way too soon. I forgot that people who appear to be smart always get knocked off by the dingdongs. It was my own fault though, for answering some questions that I should have tanked, I just couldn’t resist the urge. There was one other night activity of note, and that was a karaoke performance where I covered a Garth Brooks song. I wasn’t planning on doing any singing. Actually, I am a terrible, terrible singer. But this karaoke evening had people really going out of their way to sing long, difficult songs and murdering them. I figured I’d pick a quick and light one, get the crowd clapping. I did my 5 minutes, got some cheers and ran off the stage. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be and I’d almost recommend people try it at least once before they kick. Everybody’s got a song they’ve shouted out at a bar or at a show, you already know the words, so go ahead and try it. One last ship anecdote before I get to the actual cruise part – the rock climbing wall, which kicked my butt last time, was there again. Now even though I got to the top last time, I struggled and was in serious pain when I finished. This time I had been preparing and was sure I’d be able to go for at least one of the harder courses. One night I inspired M to join me on a little climb. M went first, and killed it. I had been watching other cruisers try the wall on previous days and so far I’d only seen kids, with their great strength/weight ratios have any success. M did the wall on her first try and fairly quickly too. There may have been some pain afterwards, but she was fired up by the accomplishment. When it came to be my turn, I scoffed at the kiddie course and asked to do a harder one, which I did with one slip. Once I corrected that mistake, the wall was no problem. Cocky now I asked to go again on a harder course and got myself into big trouble. This reminded me of times when I would be skiing as a little kid and head over to the hardest black diamond trail and end up at a section where I had no idea how I was going to get down. This was similar, except I was going up. There was nothing to hold on to and nowhere to go. Actually there was something to hold on to, but I couldn’t support my weight on something the size and shape of a donut munchkin. Eventually, my forearms gave out and I couldn’t hang on and I quit, bloodied and exhausted. I live to fight another day.
Greece itself was altogether different from Italy. It was much noisier, smokier and wetter, with a whole lot more chaos mixed in. The Acropolis was the highlight of Athens. We took a tour where a bus dropped us of and let us wander around. One of our cruisers was a pair from California/Miami who had clearly been plastic surgery aficionados. From the waist up and the front, they looked to be somewhere in their late 50s or early 60s, but the tires were bare on this pair. The wife dressed like someone in her 20s, and from 100 yards could have passed for one, but then you got up close and it was like a Halloween costume. Really scary stuff. They followed us to the Acroplis and even managed to sneak into one of our pictures. The Acropolis and Greece in general was filled with large, seemingly stray dogs. Apparently the Price is Right doesn’t air in Greece, because Bob Barker’s please to spay and neuter your pets go unheeded in Greece. We later found out that the Acropolis strays were really guard dogs that patrolled the grounds at night because the humans guards were corrupt and the electronic guards were ineffective. We did some shopping after that and ended up eating at our cruise vacation favorite spot, the Hard Rock Café while we waited for the bus back. I don’t know why we travel to these exotic and beautiful lands to eat chicken fingers and nachos in a loud American restaurant, but it’s sort of a tradition at this point. Our other stops in Greece included Corfu (lots more shopping and some adventures in old forts and palaces) Mykonos (wandering around a town that was built to intentionally confuse pirates) and Kataklon/Olympia (a town that only exists when a ship is in port). Mykonos has these windmills that everyone is obligated to see, so M and I set out for them. Based on the map provided, I figured we could walk there. Unfortunately we did no better than the pirates did in navigating the town and ended up way far away from the scenic parts. Fortunately we had slept in that day and by the time we got to these less than scenic parts, the early risers ahead of us were already returning to tell us to head back, saving us a misadventure. By now it was near noon, and very sunny. I needed some sunscreen, since our weather forecasts were woefully inadequate and I left the boat unprepared. The local pharmacy only had the 25 euro sunscreen, so M found a smaller, sample size tube for 7 euros. $12 for a tube of sunblock was better than $40 for some stuff we’d have to throw out, so we got it. When I took the cap off, it had a weird tip on it, almost like a lip balm applicator. I looked at the box and it read ‘sensitive areas’ on it. I started to get a bad feeling about it. When we squeeze it out, it was red, but rubbing it into my fingers didn’t cause any issues, so M tried a spot on my head. Again, no big deal. So then I squeezed a whole bunch out and started rubbing it with my hands. This must have activated the color crystals or something because my hands were now deep red, like wine. Now I was covered in red sunblock and had nowhere to rub it off. So I said what the ^&%$ and started rubbing it all over my face and head. One look from M and I knew we had a problem. I think she said it looked like I just had a sunburn or spent too much time in a tanning booth, but it wasn’t that bad. I knew that was a lie because the crowd of Greeks that had formed at this point were cackling like kids in the schoolyard. After some pantomiming that what I had applied all over my head and face was indeed for lips and ‘sensitive areas’ (hey it’s in Greece, who knows what these people are in to – I know their beaches are somewhat lax and it’s really sunny there), and I was now a glowing red-pink. Luckily it faded by dinner time and I didn’t have to make any awkward explanations for my new hue.
For me, the best day of the cruise was in Croatia. This was the excursion that I had picked out, the 4x4 of road adventure. We’d learned by now that the excursion descriptions can be somewhat creative and I was a little worried about what we were in for. Split, Croatia was not part of the country that was affected by the civil war. For the most part it’s now a vacation spot for other Europeans. The list of available excursions included a lot more churches and monastery tours, which by now I figured we’d be tired of seeing, and I think I was right. So our 4x4 adventure started with us signing ‘waivers’ that consisted of not much more than name and address, there were no drivers license checks and a show of hands for ‘who can drive a stick shift and who wants to drive?’. We broke up into little groups and headed out. Our guides we probably college students, not much older. And we got to do some real off-road driving. The truck we used were relatively new land rover discovery’s , definitely not the ones you see on the highways and driveways. These were sparsely equipped with turbo diesel engines and lots of torque. The ride was bouncy and got hairy in a few places, but as long as the truck in front of me made it, I was sure that I’d be able to plow through it. The driving rotation was supposed to switch drivers every 30 minutes or so, but after the first leg, one couple bailed out of driving responsibility and it was just myself and another guy. It was tiring and by the end people were more than happy to have me do all the driving. Along the way we ate a spinach and garlic pizza type thing, then we had some roasted veal and chicken (‘pikka’ I think I t was called) and we saw where medieval Croats would lure Venetian merchants into a cove and then rob and kill them. As circumstance would have it, we ended up in the vehicle with a couple from Tennessee, one of whom was a doctor. He was probably in his 60s and wanted to talk politics and not in a ‘so what do you think’ kind of way. Of course I couldn’t drop it and tried to engage this person in what turned out to be a multi-hour exchange of ideas. It wasn’t really a debate since we were both just picking each other’s brains. As we departed, he shook my hand and thanked me for my opinions, something that has never happened to me before. It was probably the most adult thing that’s happened to me in a year. 4 wheeling and political discourse aside, it was a very nice visit to Croatia.
So that’s the vacation, in a few thousand words. There were some other incidents including a night in Germany, some dog smash, a romantic 1st anniversary dinner, a lot of pizza, a gondola ride, and a whole lot more, but for now I’m going to stop. I don’t have a whole lot to say about the election, other than I hope the right guy wins, and by that I mean the ‘left’ guy and not the ‘right’ guy.
Things I liked about vacation: not going to work, sleeping in, spending 24 hours a day with M (it’s true) , not cleaning the kitchen, seeing vibrant and different cultures, interacting with new people, European coffee. Things I didn’t like about vacation: packing, 8 hour flights, hordes of people, not speaking the language, foreign currency, chain smoking Europeans, small cars. Our trip started off well. We worked at home, got a van to the airport and breezed through security. The 8? 10? Hour journey was uneventful. Lufthansa gave us some good meals and great seats. I watched Kung-Fu Panda while M tolerated Made of Honor. I was shocked by how many people on the plane spoke German. I heard them speaking English in the airport, then all of a sudden it turned into Hans and Franz on the plane. Nothing like seeing Der Spiegel being read to revive the horrors of 2 semesters of college German. Luckily I didn’t have to use any of the 5 words I remembered until our return trip. Sleeping on the plane was impossible, despite our luxurious travel pillows, eye masks and noise canceling headphones. We had a little layover in Munich where I was offered lots of help by exuberant Germans who mistook my attempts to admire their airport for looks of confusion. Ah that silly American… I think I’ll try my English now… Anyway, I needed some coffee and rather than attempt to deal with a FREE coffee machine, I ordered up the first of many scalding espressos from the bar. In hindsight I was probably too tired to deal with the machine and just wanted someone to do it for me, but explaining this to M was difficult. The flight to Florence was also uneventful, save for the fine mullet I spotted on a traveler from the Czech republic (I stole a look at his passport) This was to be the first of many powerful and luxurious mullets I saw in Europe. It seems that 80’s trailer park is the hot new look. I even saw some American students rocking these things. Keep your eyes out, they’re coming. We landed in Florence, took an insane cab ride to our hotel and got things started. It was hot out there, at least in the high 80s, but for some reason, I didn’t pack many shorts. I’d read somewhere that no one over there wears shorts. They either wear ridiculous Capri pants or they go long pants. So I packed mostly long pants and toughed it out. Really the first day got me worried, but by the end of our trip it was back to being cool and rainy, they way we’re used to seeing Europe.
Florence was over the top. Our hotel was one of the best we could get with Starwood points and as such M and I looked like we were staying with our parents. There wasn’t anyone within 20 years of us. Lucking that means no dice shooting in the hallways at 3am or crashing beer bottles in the elevators. The concierge did a great job guiding us around the city, which really wasn’t that hard to navigate. By the 3rd day, I was finding shortcuts like a local. Breakfasts usually consisted of us eating the remnants of the complimentary fruit bowl alongside muffins we brought with us. Lunch was usually something quick from a café or shop but the dinners were always an event. The two places the hotel recommended for us were some of the best eating I’d done at a restaurant. Proscuitto was a staple of lunch and dinner, as was tomato and mozzarella. M made sure we were never more than a couple of hours away from gelato, and I always got my espresso. I didn’t venture into any latte/machiatto/cappuccino territory that Italians are famous for, the regular burned stuff was fine for me. The second night we were there, M and I popped some pills (Advil PM) and set some sleep records. I put in a solid 13-15 hours, while M spent some time reading in the bathtub. After that binge, I think I had a little bit of a sleep hangover – my brain was slow, reflexes were off, I was stiff and a little loopy. Or maybe I was just starting to detox from the daily schedule I’d been in? Either way, I was having a great time getting out there and seeing the city. If you really wanted to be in a rush, you could ‘see’ the major sights in Florence in a day or two. Statue of David, Brunelleschi’s Dome, Uffizi Gallery, Pitti Palace, Ponte Vecchio and you’re done. Personally, I liked seeing them multiple times at different points of the day with different crowds and letting it all soak in for a while. While we were there, we did a side trip to Siena and tried to do a bike tour in Tuscany. Siena was good, although I could have behaved a little better and the bike tour got rained out. For me the city of Florence itself was the highlight. Aside from the mopeds, screeching fiats, wandering tourists/tour groups, everything we saw and did was entertaining.
Venice was the next stop. Everyone knows Venice is the city with the canals, but actually seeing the city that has no streets or cars is something I think everyone has to do at some point. It’s really indescribable to see it in action. I was skeptical of the need to take a water taxi to our hotel (highway robbery), but once we got there, the need became clear. There’s no way to navigate the city with suitcases in tow when there are thousands of tourists mobbing bridges and pathways that barely hold 3 people shoulder-shoulder. This was another big hotel point monster, but we got a perfect location and a really nice lobby out of the deal. The fruit bowl left something to be desired, but I’m not complaining. We did have a convention (some kind of Petroleum and Chemical Production Society) in the hotel, and they always came home late at night, thick with brandy or something and had their midnight cigars out in the courtyard under our window, which woke me up a couple of times. It was like having a hundred Thurston Howells milling around. I was a little scared Greenpeace or some radical group would find out and take down the hotel, but we escaped alive. Venice is another city that anyone bent on seeing all the sights in as little time as possible could probably do in 2 days, but we stayed and started living like the locals, which I really enjoy as a vacation style. While I wasn’t finding any shortcuts (the more I tried the deeper we got lost), we did find a hot chocolate place that sold doughnuts in the morning and we had a nice little routine going there in Venice. I think M liked it more than Florence. Beyond the tourist sights neither one has a ton to do, unless you’re an artist or creative type and are looking for inspiration or you’re insanely rich and want to boutique shop all day, but they both have a great energy and you can spend a few hours just soaking it all in.
There was a common theme to both cities, and that was the extreme wealth they both had for a while. I had to contrast that with the economic calamity that came pouring over the news I saw every time I looked. The only English TV channels were CNBC, Bloomberg TV and CNN, which of course covered the downfall of all economic gains made by anyone in the last 10 years. Europe was having some real difficulties of it’s own too, so we got a double dose of it every time we looked. There was a hint of a ‘tsk-tsk’ tone that some of the commentators had that irked me a little bit, but as we’ve seen lately, all the European countries are getting it handed to them. It was clear however, that the rest of the world is dreading a McCain victory and that they regard Sarah Palin as something of a curiosity instead of bona fide world leader. While it was the discovery of a route around Africa and the discovery of America that did in the great Italian merchant cities, I don’t see anything similar happening today. But if that it the case, I wonder what cities in the US will turn into quaint tourist mecccas for giant crowds of wealthy Indians and Chinese. Boston, maybe? In some ways New England is already there, with the great fishing and whaling towns now sought after tourist destinations.
As Venice started to wind down, we got ready for the last leg of the trip, a cruise through Greece and a stop in Croatia. The empty suitcase we brought along to haul souveniers homes was getting stuffed and the throwaway clothes that we scattered all over Italy were already gone, yielding their spots on the suitcases to other acquisitions. It was a little weird, the feeling that we were on 3 vacations at once, but I won’t say it wasn’t a satisfying one. Cruises are a little different style of vacation. The boat takes care of your food and accommodations and you’re on your own for what you do when the boat stops. This was the second cruise we’d been on, the first being a Caribbean one filled with spring breakers. We both hoped this excursion would be a little less MTV and a little more Discovery Channel, and for the most part I think we got what we were looking for. The crowd on board was definitely a lot older, but since school was in session I didn’t expect many children. When we checked in, the line was a little chaotic and we sort of cut another couple in line. Not really though, 2 ushers pointed us at the same window, M and I just happened to get there first and the other couple had to back and wait for another line. While I wasn’t feeling generous enough to let them cut us, I was worried we’d see the other couple throughout the cruise and risk them staring daggers at us. Sure enough we ended up getting seated with them at dinner. All of our tablemates were pleasant people. The forced friend aspect of the cruise dining was and still is a little odd to me, but it’s been very interesting both times. It’s a little like moving into the new dorm and meeting your roommates or the people down the hall. There’s the fact that you didn’t choose to be with these people specifically, and there’s a good chance that someone tried to pair you up based on some demographic clues they had about both parties. What did they base it on? You could get seated with a politically fringe person or someone with serious personality issues. By virtue of the fact that you chose this cruise specifically and paid for it, that assumes a similar set of interests and possibly equal economic states, so that’s something. As it turned out, we did get seated with the only other 4 25-30 year olds on the boat, or so it seemed. We had two people from Texas who lived in Southern California and two people from Michigan who lived in Northern California. Everyone was seemingly educated and extremely sure of themselves, which made for some pretty interesting conversations. The 6 of us got along well enough that we ended up hanging out after the dinners. One night we did a trivia contest. We lost because there are some islands in Japan that extend farther north than either Turkey or North Korea. And then I signed up to do a version of ‘The Weakest Link’ and got voted off way too soon. I forgot that people who appear to be smart always get knocked off by the dingdongs. It was my own fault though, for answering some questions that I should have tanked, I just couldn’t resist the urge. There was one other night activity of note, and that was a karaoke performance where I covered a Garth Brooks song. I wasn’t planning on doing any singing. Actually, I am a terrible, terrible singer. But this karaoke evening had people really going out of their way to sing long, difficult songs and murdering them. I figured I’d pick a quick and light one, get the crowd clapping. I did my 5 minutes, got some cheers and ran off the stage. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be and I’d almost recommend people try it at least once before they kick. Everybody’s got a song they’ve shouted out at a bar or at a show, you already know the words, so go ahead and try it. One last ship anecdote before I get to the actual cruise part – the rock climbing wall, which kicked my butt last time, was there again. Now even though I got to the top last time, I struggled and was in serious pain when I finished. This time I had been preparing and was sure I’d be able to go for at least one of the harder courses. One night I inspired M to join me on a little climb. M went first, and killed it. I had been watching other cruisers try the wall on previous days and so far I’d only seen kids, with their great strength/weight ratios have any success. M did the wall on her first try and fairly quickly too. There may have been some pain afterwards, but she was fired up by the accomplishment. When it came to be my turn, I scoffed at the kiddie course and asked to do a harder one, which I did with one slip. Once I corrected that mistake, the wall was no problem. Cocky now I asked to go again on a harder course and got myself into big trouble. This reminded me of times when I would be skiing as a little kid and head over to the hardest black diamond trail and end up at a section where I had no idea how I was going to get down. This was similar, except I was going up. There was nothing to hold on to and nowhere to go. Actually there was something to hold on to, but I couldn’t support my weight on something the size and shape of a donut munchkin. Eventually, my forearms gave out and I couldn’t hang on and I quit, bloodied and exhausted. I live to fight another day.
Greece itself was altogether different from Italy. It was much noisier, smokier and wetter, with a whole lot more chaos mixed in. The Acropolis was the highlight of Athens. We took a tour where a bus dropped us of and let us wander around. One of our cruisers was a pair from California/Miami who had clearly been plastic surgery aficionados. From the waist up and the front, they looked to be somewhere in their late 50s or early 60s, but the tires were bare on this pair. The wife dressed like someone in her 20s, and from 100 yards could have passed for one, but then you got up close and it was like a Halloween costume. Really scary stuff. They followed us to the Acroplis and even managed to sneak into one of our pictures. The Acropolis and Greece in general was filled with large, seemingly stray dogs. Apparently the Price is Right doesn’t air in Greece, because Bob Barker’s please to spay and neuter your pets go unheeded in Greece. We later found out that the Acropolis strays were really guard dogs that patrolled the grounds at night because the humans guards were corrupt and the electronic guards were ineffective. We did some shopping after that and ended up eating at our cruise vacation favorite spot, the Hard Rock Café while we waited for the bus back. I don’t know why we travel to these exotic and beautiful lands to eat chicken fingers and nachos in a loud American restaurant, but it’s sort of a tradition at this point. Our other stops in Greece included Corfu (lots more shopping and some adventures in old forts and palaces) Mykonos (wandering around a town that was built to intentionally confuse pirates) and Kataklon/Olympia (a town that only exists when a ship is in port). Mykonos has these windmills that everyone is obligated to see, so M and I set out for them. Based on the map provided, I figured we could walk there. Unfortunately we did no better than the pirates did in navigating the town and ended up way far away from the scenic parts. Fortunately we had slept in that day and by the time we got to these less than scenic parts, the early risers ahead of us were already returning to tell us to head back, saving us a misadventure. By now it was near noon, and very sunny. I needed some sunscreen, since our weather forecasts were woefully inadequate and I left the boat unprepared. The local pharmacy only had the 25 euro sunscreen, so M found a smaller, sample size tube for 7 euros. $12 for a tube of sunblock was better than $40 for some stuff we’d have to throw out, so we got it. When I took the cap off, it had a weird tip on it, almost like a lip balm applicator. I looked at the box and it read ‘sensitive areas’ on it. I started to get a bad feeling about it. When we squeeze it out, it was red, but rubbing it into my fingers didn’t cause any issues, so M tried a spot on my head. Again, no big deal. So then I squeezed a whole bunch out and started rubbing it with my hands. This must have activated the color crystals or something because my hands were now deep red, like wine. Now I was covered in red sunblock and had nowhere to rub it off. So I said what the ^&%$ and started rubbing it all over my face and head. One look from M and I knew we had a problem. I think she said it looked like I just had a sunburn or spent too much time in a tanning booth, but it wasn’t that bad. I knew that was a lie because the crowd of Greeks that had formed at this point were cackling like kids in the schoolyard. After some pantomiming that what I had applied all over my head and face was indeed for lips and ‘sensitive areas’ (hey it’s in Greece, who knows what these people are in to – I know their beaches are somewhat lax and it’s really sunny there), and I was now a glowing red-pink. Luckily it faded by dinner time and I didn’t have to make any awkward explanations for my new hue.
For me, the best day of the cruise was in Croatia. This was the excursion that I had picked out, the 4x4 of road adventure. We’d learned by now that the excursion descriptions can be somewhat creative and I was a little worried about what we were in for. Split, Croatia was not part of the country that was affected by the civil war. For the most part it’s now a vacation spot for other Europeans. The list of available excursions included a lot more churches and monastery tours, which by now I figured we’d be tired of seeing, and I think I was right. So our 4x4 adventure started with us signing ‘waivers’ that consisted of not much more than name and address, there were no drivers license checks and a show of hands for ‘who can drive a stick shift and who wants to drive?’. We broke up into little groups and headed out. Our guides we probably college students, not much older. And we got to do some real off-road driving. The truck we used were relatively new land rover discovery’s , definitely not the ones you see on the highways and driveways. These were sparsely equipped with turbo diesel engines and lots of torque. The ride was bouncy and got hairy in a few places, but as long as the truck in front of me made it, I was sure that I’d be able to plow through it. The driving rotation was supposed to switch drivers every 30 minutes or so, but after the first leg, one couple bailed out of driving responsibility and it was just myself and another guy. It was tiring and by the end people were more than happy to have me do all the driving. Along the way we ate a spinach and garlic pizza type thing, then we had some roasted veal and chicken (‘pikka’ I think I t was called) and we saw where medieval Croats would lure Venetian merchants into a cove and then rob and kill them. As circumstance would have it, we ended up in the vehicle with a couple from Tennessee, one of whom was a doctor. He was probably in his 60s and wanted to talk politics and not in a ‘so what do you think’ kind of way. Of course I couldn’t drop it and tried to engage this person in what turned out to be a multi-hour exchange of ideas. It wasn’t really a debate since we were both just picking each other’s brains. As we departed, he shook my hand and thanked me for my opinions, something that has never happened to me before. It was probably the most adult thing that’s happened to me in a year. 4 wheeling and political discourse aside, it was a very nice visit to Croatia.
So that’s the vacation, in a few thousand words. There were some other incidents including a night in Germany, some dog smash, a romantic 1st anniversary dinner, a lot of pizza, a gondola ride, and a whole lot more, but for now I’m going to stop. I don’t have a whole lot to say about the election, other than I hope the right guy wins, and by that I mean the ‘left’ guy and not the ‘right’ guy.
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