Names, Darling! Names!

Names, Darling! Names! Why do I feel like I’m in “Absolutely Fabulous”? The designer names in this town are astounding. On a per capita basis, I would say it is greater than Rome. But then, as a center for philosophical thought, a city that prides itself on a certain je ne said quois, this is to be expected.

So, you can understand my frustration last night after the arrival of a busload of high schoolers from Las Vegas descended upon (infected?) our quiet little Valhalla. I suppose I should have expected disruption when Barry and I returned from our ten mile hike into the hills across the Arno River. Exhausted but exhilarated, we walked down the Via Nazionale where our hotel is located.

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Days 4 & 5, Firenze!

Names, Darling! Names!

Why do I feel like I’m in “Absolutely Fabulous”? The designer names in this town are astounding. On a per capita basis, I would say it is greater than Rome. But then, as a

center for philosophical thought, a city that prides itself on a certain je ne said quois, this is to be expected. So you can understand my frustration last night after the arrival of a busload of high schoolers from Las Vegas descended upon (infected?) our quiet little Valhalla. I suppose I should have expected disruption when Barry and I returned from our ten mile hike into the hills across the Arno River. Exhausted but exhilarated, we walked down the Via Nazionale where our hotel is located.

Day 3, Firenze! I had better get some comments…keep reading

OK, this story is long and I have one thing to say—those who read this had better leave a comment! You will understand why later.

Last night was fun. We left our hotel and took a few nighttime photos of St. Peter’s Basilica. We then went to the Spanish Steps. I had told Barry that it was really nothing special—steps. The importance of this site is lost on me. Even reading the significance still did not result in any interest. Apparently, there were some steps made from some church to somewhere. What I find interesting is the street leading to the Steps. It appears to be the Rodeo Drive of Rome, chock full of high-end stores—Ferragamo, Gucci, Lagerfeld, Valentino, Versace. Think $1400 men’s shoes.

I was anxious to show Barry Trevi Fountain, which is actually a short walk. Upon arrival, we found the fountain was under renovation, surrounded by chain link fence and emptied of all water. Barry cackled gleefully, remarking that it was just his luck that he would miss out on viewing this beautiful fountain.

Day 2, Roma!!

Nothing terribly exciting to get the old juice of excitement flowing. Nevertheless, I shall post something anyway, to keep up the momentum of this trip and force myself to be disciplined.

Last night Barry and I were truly comatose. And I mean dead to the world. I was practically delirious with fatigue. Never before in my life had I gone fifty-one hours with such a small amount of sleep—two and a half hours. When I laid on the bed, I was out almost immediately. I remember burbling a little joke asking Barry if he’s ever been so exhausted that he had to rally to die.

Day 1, Roma!

I’m back to travel blogging again. For those of you who follow and don’t yet know, I’m traveling in Europe for five weeks. It’s my last blast before I trend back from the world of make believe (writing and publishing) to the real world of schedules, cubicles and meetings.

My buddy, Barry, encouraged me to take this much time. Barry is a school teacher and has the summer off. I had been pursuing my book and Barry was of the mind that since I’m “not doing anything”, I was totally free to travel with him for as long as HE wanted. I had already planned on traveling to Europe for three weeks maximum to see my family again and hit a few other places. It was Barry who twisted my arm for this elongated visit. And I acquiesced. After all, once I get back into the corporate world, I will not have the luxury of taking this much time off for a long while.

Two countries, two identities…soon?

Once again, baby steps. I have finally received some facts regarding my desire to attain my Italian citizenship. And none of the help came from the Italian Consulate in Portland who never answer phone calls or emails or their door even. Sorry, had to vent on that one.

No, it was the consulate in San Francisco that was most helpful. A very helpful gentleman told me that, due to my situation, I would not be able to attain my Italian passport in America. I would have to do it in Italy.

The problems are manifold. My mother did not include my father’s name on my birth certificate. My father never signed any type of declaration acknowledging me as his son. Both my biological parents are dead so neither can claim me as their son.

And the beat goes on…

I’m nearing the end of my stay in Southern California. I leave El Cajon on Friday so I’m tying up loose ends. Trying to get last things done for Isabella, hoping that I’ve made a difference in her life and that she will be able to move on with love and hope.

I can’t say I’m sorry to leave Southern California. I’m not going to miss the sunshine and constant warmth, strangely enough. There are times in Oregon when I would like more sunshine but I’m happy with a climate that provides breaks from not just the rain but the heat, also. There are no breaks from the neat down here. And for me, constant sunshine is so boring.