Tag Archive: tour guide

Two days away

My next tour starts in two days, and I know what the hardest part will be. A tour is an odd blend of likelihood and happenstance, earned probability and inevitable surprises. Will we… Continue reading

The Grumps don’t win

The Venetians built a church specially-designed for Vivaldi. A pair of 14 year old twins can increase my hope for the future. And the reason cows wear bells is because their horns don’t… Continue reading

Paris dreaming

The good news is that I’ve found a new way up to the castle. More interesting, with stuff to see along the way, versus the dull direct path we’ve taken before. As a… Continue reading

Feeling fine and Florentine

“The Tuscan Frying Pan,” Florence was earning its title that day, certified in sweat dripping down the backs and sides of tourists squinting in the Piazza della Signoria, and my hair felt, again,… Continue reading

Happy birthday, America, from elsewheres

That’s Athens out there in the haze. Spread outside my room like too much hot peanut butter, chunky with concrete and creamy with Mediterraneanity. In my camera it’s Italy on the rare moments… Continue reading

I think Paris is getting to me

The Rhine was running high, Florence was florid with wine-flushed cheeks and well-trod streets, and the Alps were calm as only stone can be. Last night 24 of us, from 21 days of… Continue reading

Things like this still happen in Havana

The thing about Cuba is all the streets are so…Cuban. Roaming about, I often feel like large cities belong to the country of Citylandia, removed from the nations that surround them, but Havana?… Continue reading

The Wizard of Oz is Italian

The Wizard of Oz doesn’t let you take pictures. Looking around his close-shouldered toyscape of fragile wooden forms and clustered vintage artefacts, that was understandable. Besides, I already had enough photos from outside,… Continue reading

I’m thankful for grandma’s bloomers

The Italian Grandma next door is hanging her bloomers on the laundry line, the clouds are preposterously beautiful in painting-perfect colors and curves, and I am delighted that I didn’t have to sleep… Continue reading

On the right bus, in Florence

“The Tuscan Frying Pan” had been in fine frying form all week, but at 8:00 AM the air was the sort of warmthy and goldeny and pillowy that makes so many people write… Continue reading