random fog

Over the years I've heard, and heard of, tour guides that are unfamiliar with areas and sights that they are describing, or have so little command of the English language that they could be describing a cathedral design or a goat race for all their tourists knew.  A more satisfactory category of guide has all of his/her information memorized and can recite it at the proper time and place in clear, if mechanical, English.  However well intentioned you are, don't ask this type of guide a question as it will usually disrupt their train of thought.  Then they must either start over from the beginning of the current chapter of knowledge in order to get all the way through it, or just skip the remainder of the chapter while trying to decipher and address the question that's been asked.  

There does exist another type of guide that is native to an area, speaks understandably good English, and can adjust their "normal discourse" on the fly to suit their audience's interest and questions.  This quality of guide is rare, but we had three of them in a row on our last trip to Italy.

I realize that the previous paragraph stresses the desirability of good English from a guide and sounds almost as if that should be the benchmark for every guide.  Not so.  I only speak English.  If I were an grumpy old monolingual Frenchman, or German, those languages would replace "English" in the preceding paragraphs as a necessity for my comfort and understanding.

This first guide is Stefan.  He was brought up speaking both Italian and German because those are the official languages of Trentino-Alto Adige.  If you check this area on a map, you'll see that just over the Alps is the Tyrolean part of Austria.  The area is rich in Tirol culture and currently happens to be within the Italian borders, hence the dual languages.  Stefan has climbed mountains in the US and Alaska and is, in my opinion, a most interesting chap.  We discussed the current building boom in several of the mountain villages that we traveled through.  Stefan's concerns about the rapid growth are both environmental and sociological.  His knowledge of the region, and ability to clearly express it to this English speaking monolingual, were impressive.

In Rome we were gifted with Eva to get us through the swarms of people at the Vatican, and to guide us through the Borghese Gallery.  No, Eva isn't Italian.  She's Spanish.  She has also spent a short time in the States (California, I believe).

I was impressed with her knowledge of art styles, periods and individual artists, both paint and sculpture.  I asked her if she was an art major; no, she's has a degree in "Christian Archeology and Church History".  In case you wonder if a degree with such a stuffy name can be put to good use: it can.  She may not be getting independently wealthy (at the ripe old age of 25), but she clearly enjoys breathing life into history for ignorant tourists.  Eva also helps broaden her tour groups' Gelato appreciation.  I'd never tried Meringue Gelato, but try it mixed with Mango or Passion Fruit.  Ah, Gelato, the Levi's tightener of Italy.

Finally we had an Italian guide that was closer to what I'd expected when we went south from Rome.  Francesca was a Neapolitan who moved further down the coast to Sorrento.  She was our guide in Naples, Pompeii, Paestum, Sorrento, Ravello, Capri -- all along the Amalfi Coast.

Not only did Francesca know the area, she had a doctorate in English languages from Columbia University!  We barely had time to get a feel for the area in 3 days, but Francesca kept us on track and could answer detailed questions on about any subject we asked.  

I especially appreciated her candor when she discussed different archaeological theories about Pompeii and Paestum: she'd present two or three theories on something and say "but we don't know for sure - archaeology is just educated guesswork", or something along that line.  Call me eccentric, but when a guide tells me exactly what happened, exactly where, and exactly how, and this event happened over a thousand years ago -- I wonder about their certainty.  

If you look closely at Francesca's left wrist you can see her watch, which she consulted occasionally and announced, "Andiamo!", meaning "Let's go!"

The "Andiamo"s were balanced with, "okay, here's your Kodak moment", when we had permission to pull out our cameras and get to work.

We were fortunate to have three talented guides while on this trip.  All three had their own style, personality, and a clear love of the areas they discussed.  Makes me wonder if I could present a reasonably interesting tour of San Antonio to a group from London or Sydney (certainly not Parisians or Berliners).

This is home, sweet home in Milan.  It's about 3 blocks from the Duomo.

The GPS-like screen on the seat-back in front of me shows that our airplane is about to pass to the south of Dublin (6:55 is Milan time; I've already converted) and then make shore on the west coast of France, with a sweep just south of Paris.  Looks like we'll go over the French Alps just south of Bern in about an hour.  We're at 33,000 feet and it looks like a 25,000+ foot cloud deck below us; there's a half moon to the south of us (out my right window) lighting the top of that deck.  The screen says we're just over 2 hours out of MIlano.  

Trying to get the day started right here by simultaneously titrating up the Diet Coke and Ritalin; the attendent was a little puzzled that I didn't need cups or ice for these room temp Diet Cokes.  Some things can't be explained.

Man, Atlanta Hartsfield airport is loud and busy!  We landed at the A gate and were departing from the E gate.  Lucky they do those little train things or we'd have had to cut our lunch at TGIFridays short.  Lots of young men and women in uniform headed for parts unknown - BJ and I felt ourselves hoping they were all going HOME.  Our country doesn't need to waste anymore kids overseas to scratch W's "war president" itch.

Wow, flying east is nice!  Light sky and cloud deck to the east of us has turned pink.  IF I wanted to crawl over BJ to take down my camera bag from the overhead, and IF these windows weren't scratched and streaked, and IF the flight weren't a bit bumpy at present, I'd snap a photo at present and see how it came out.  Early morning at 33,000 feet is always pretty.  According to the GPS thing, our outside temperature is -59°F with a speed (wind) of 525 miles per hour - would someone calculate the wind-chill factor for that?  (Hmmph, short break while I checked to see if there was any software on board that would do that: nope!)  Beth, I'm counting on you to give me a number here!

The aforementioned GPS thing also has movies and tv and music and games available on it.  I believe that I was awakened this morning by a gamer feverishly punching the touch screen on my seat back.  Hope he won, cause he wasted a perfectly good Ambien in my system.  No worries - pre 7:00 a.m. blogging is a good thing.  This is about the time I normally sit and drink Diet Coke and watch my cats (who I hope both had a dandy evening at the Traveling Tails Hotel & Spa) start the day.  Hmmmph, otra vez, been waiting for more Diet Coke for 10 minutes, now; let's get our service shoes on, Delta folks!

Full daylight outside now, and I thought the cloud deck was breaking up so that we could see France, but no luck.  We'll be entering French airspace in the Bordeaux country and then hopping the French Alps for northern Italy.  Clear skies would really make for an entertaining flight.

The skies are beginning to clear a bit as we hit the French coast. We're passing between "La Rochelle" and "Montpelier" and some impressive bays.  The outside air temp is cooling off to -72°F, guess the water kept it warmed up.  Multiple jets tracking around us and leaving spectacular contrails.

The landscape toward Lyon, France is beautiful.  Rolling green hills, wide valley, and then the French Alps are upon us - rising out of low cloud cover and still snow capped.  

With the Alps behind us, we start out descent into Milan.  Plenty of farmland.  Time to put everything into its fully upright and locked position.

Today was Earth Day - how many of you thought about that, however briefly?  I'd like to report that I did many eco-friendly, environment preserving, notable things.  But I didn't.  Yesterday I wore my new "There is no Plan(et) B" t-shirt, but today I pulled on a silk Hawaiian print without thinking.  Geez, I could have worn my "Recycle, Reuse, Reduce" organic cotton t-shirt and felt virtuous.  Instead, I consolidated the few errands I needed to run in my V8 Mercury, had a DQ Blizzard instead of heating up the kitchen, and shut the house A/C off while I was outside with the cats.  The A/C wasn't too big a sacrifice: it's running a little rough and I don't want it to conk out before the repairman comes tomorrow.

Nope, no dramatic life changes today.  Just a little less waste than usual and some pondering about what kind of planet I'll be helping to pass on to my grandkids (our kids drive Expeditions as a defense against Houston and Dallas traffic - not "green", but hopefully helping the kids survive careless drivers and then inherit said planet) and great-grandkids if I live to meet them.

I did look a little more closely at the beauty around me.  Our neighborhood has some stately oak trees that are well over a hundred years old: really durable old guys and gals.  A sentimental developer resisted the quick-and-dirty method (so prevalent today) of dozing offending trees to one side.  I'm proud of him/her and the beautiful trees left to shade us.  I hope I can pass on a similar favor to the next generation.