I awoke in the tiny monastery cell in Sorrento.  My head was foggy from red wine and jet lag.  The thick stone walls had done their job and kept the March morning chill outside.  The walls were so thick, an inquisition could be going on next door and I wouldn’t hear the screams.  This was … More Amputation Averted in Sorrento

  There’s a reason Rome wasn’t built in a day.  Italians were building it!  Domani.  Domani.  Italian time–take island time and multiply by pi.  In the English/Italian dictionary, domani is translated as “tomorrow.”  In actual Italian, tomorrow is a fluid concept that encompasses some future time that may or may not ever occur.  It is a … More Chiusi

Spent Monday on a return visit to Positano.  I hoped that the morning weather would break as I boarded the bus in a driving storm punctuated by thunder.  Looking over the edge of the cliffs of Amalfi with sheets of rain pelting the window and making the road slick made me thankful that at least … More Positano Hail

Standing in line at the Stansted airport and impatiently enduring another interminable English queue (do they queue at Kew Gardens?), I was abruptly awakened from my dreams of the warm curves of the Tuscan hills.  The screaming 6 year-old  girl (even money she won’t reach 7) who had been tormenting her spineless parents slammed her … More Grumpy Old Men and Monster Brit Kids

Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs song ended on the Japanese transistor radio and the high pitched voice of the DJ cut in to excitedly proclaim the afternoon’s surf report.  The Wedge was up.  Ten to twelve-foot swells.  We were still wet from riding some three-footers at our usual spot just south of the pier … More If In Doubt, Don’t Go Out

Regaining consciousness, Lyn’s first thought was that Ron had to die.  She shivered in her worn, Wal-Mart nightgown as she unsteadily pushed herself off the garage floor.  It hurt to swallow.  The pain from her left shoulder almost caused her to black out again. After a long day, the only kind she knew, Lyn had come … More The Dregs of Happiness

Taxi to railway station:  $12 R/T Scenic TransAlpine Express to Arthur’s Pass:  $114 5-hour layover at the pass during a cold monsoon trapped in the only cafe in this dump which the brochures made sound like a Southern Hemisphere Leavenworth–bloody priceless. I measured my time in pints while perched on a stool in the corner … More Please, Do Not Feed the Kea

Today I swam with Hector dolphins in Akaroa Bay.  Seven hundred people in the town that is the epitome of picturesque:  multi-hued green hills, large turquoise bay, semi-restored old building now housing crafts, restaurants, gallery/coffee shops, and a general store that sells hardware, lollies, wool socks, and tampons.  I didn’t check but I don’t’ think … More Hector and Lysander