After being associated with Southern Illinois University for over thirty-six years I am still spell bound by it’s natural beauty.  SIU Carbondale began as a teacher’s college in 1869 in beautiful southern Illinois near the Shawnee National Forest.  Contained within the campus is both Thompson Woods and Campus Woods which surrounds Campus Lake.

Under the presidency of Delyte W. Morris the teacher’s college was transformed to a nationally and internationally recognized university and grew in enrollment from 3,500 to over 23,000 student between 1950 through 1980.  During the phenomenal growth of the Carbondale Campus Dr. Morris emphasized the retention and development of the natural beauty of the physical location.  Upon Dr. Morris arrival at SIUC it was soon noted that he had a great interest in the trees on campus and said in one of his first tours of campus that the library and the greenhouse were two of the two most needed facilities.

It is often said by both new student and their parents that SIU is the most lovely campus in the state of Illinois.

The following is a photo of President Morris planting a tree at the Edwardsville Campus during his tenure.  Indeed he not only grew the Carbondale Campus but added a Campus at Edwardsville and a Medical School in Springfield, Illinois.

A commemorative bronze statue of the man responsible for much of not only the growth of SIU but also it’s continued physical beauty.

Have you ever known a person for whom Christmas lasts the whole year round?  How about someone who sings Christmas carols in July?  Or indeed a person who enjoys seeing the first Christmas trees and the other holiday revelry in the merchants windows before Halloween.  That would be me and thus it has always been.  For some reason or reasons Christmas has always elicited the warmest and fuzziest emotions in me.  I am transported to a more peaceful and happier world where peace on earth and good will toward men seems possible.

As a child I recall a stuffed toy Santa Claus that had a wind up crank protruding out of his back and the most joyful of smiles permanently affixed to his face.  When I turned the crank…peal after peal of side splitting laughter emerged somewhere from his belly.  We called him laughing Santa.  Another memory was of Santa Claus visiting my house.  There he was in his red suit, his long white beard and his red cap!  It was simply incredible and I could not believe my good fortune!  Finally I recall fondly the temporary pervasive happiness that filled my childhood home in Chicago on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.  It seemed that there was a special dispensation for these two days…a time out…for trouble and strife…and uncertainty.

I later discovered that Santa was really one of my Dad’s friends dressed up in an impressive red suit and beard.  Also, my Mom and Dad went on to separate and then divorce…and it was terribly sad…and caused uncertainty…fear…and the rapid acceleration of maturity for one small boy…and laughing Santa.

When Aaron and Jonathon came along Christmas took on its’ former significance once again.  We decorated our little four room house with a seven foot Christmas tree that dominated the small living room that its’ majesty was contained in.  We traveled to St. Louis to the headquarters of Famous Barr and then to the seventh floor to see the magnificent Christmas village that took up a large area of the entire floor.  The boys eyes were always wide with awe and wonder…all three of us.  The gifts were always purchased with great care and aplomb.  In those early days we still had the Sears catalogue or wish book and much perusing of that occurred.

During the latter part of the nineteen nineties we began attending First Presbyterian Church just before Thanksgiving.  I could not help but notice shortly after our arrival the emergence of a beautiful Christmas tree in the narthex.  That year we began attending the Christmas Eve Service at the church and have done so for almost every year since.  Presbyterians do Christmas right.

When we moved to the New House…although we have now been here over thirteen years…we were overcome with the additional room we had.  We discovered that our basement was larger than our former home.  Thus when Christmas time arrived… not one tree but two.

We enjoyed a Christmas Season gift exchange with some special friends for many years…and marveled at the splendor of their Christmas tree…and the rich holiday appropriateness of Irish Coffee.

This year is good.  My sons are employed.  Mary Jane and I are retired…health reports are good…and travel is in our future.  However…I do miss laughing Santa.

In January of 2012 I faithfully kept my vow of going somewhere for holiday every January during my retirement.  Since January 2012 was my second month of January of retirement, as I retired at the end of 2010,  I was on a roll.  Ron, my brother-in-law who is much more like my brother accompanied us.  Ron had some minor trepidation prior to disembarking due to his having never cruised before.  This soon yielded to happiness and the sheer joy of the beautiful accommodations and delicious cuisine along with the uniquely singular experience that cruising offers.

We first flew to San Juan, Puerto Rico and stayed at the San Juan Marriott Resort and Stellaris Casino on Condado Beach.  The next day we embarked on a walking tour of old San Juan until we happened upon a tobacco store.  I subsequently rushed in as Mary Jane and Ron followed and announced with some savvy traveler glee…” I would like your best cuban cigar”…to which the proprietor replied…sir you are still in the United States.  Somewhat chagrined, but not defeated, I replied that I would like a quality cigar.  The astute storekeeper instructed his assistant to give me a Churchill…on the house.  Being more than surprised I began to professionally puff what was indeed an excellent cigar while Ron proceeded to purchase one as well.  As I mused among the cloud of delicious smoke…that perhaps Ron was going to join me in my vice…the friendly cigar aficionado began to show me moderately priced box sets for shipping home.  By this time Mary Jane and Ron had exited the building and I was left alone with my generous new friend and under the influence of cigar delight.  Mary Jane said that it was at this point another tourist exited the store and told her that I was just about to be talked into a large purchase of cigars…with no one to protect me.  She quickly entered and announced that we must go and pulled me from my revelry.  As we proceeded through an extremely busy open market I told my party to go ahead and that I would catch up after Churchill and I had completed our visit.  Later I discovered that Churchill had a brother that had been purchased for me.

As we prepared to leave our short pleasant stay in San Juan a fellow guest told us of the sinking of the Costa Concordia on January 13, 2012.  A terrible tragedy…and a sobering occurrence happening just prior to our boarding the Caribbean Princess for our vast ocean journey.

I never tire of the majestic beauty of the ocean.

The Caribbean offers such a variety of cultures and peoples that it is astounding to me that although many of the islands are close in proximity to each other…the people speak often a different language than their neighbor and have a totally different culture.  For instance the island of Saint Martin in the Northeast Caribbean and 190 miles east of Puerto Rico is divided between France and the Kingdom of the Netherlands.  France has twenty square miles and the Netherlands has thirteen square miles.  St Martin is the smallest island divided between two nations.  The northern French part is referred to as the Collectivite de Saint-Martin.  We shopped in the French portion of St. Martin and had a lovely experience doing so.  The very friendly store owner encouraged us to make a toll free telephone call from the store’s phone to our sons.  We did so and got voicemail.  Following our purchases he invited us to partake in some small Heinken beers for the returning bus ride to the cruise ship.  When we asked if this would be all right with law enforcement he replied that we were not in the United States anymore.

A preponderance of the pleasure of cruising the Caribbean in January is the sure knowledge that it is winter at home.  An assistant in this joyful period is the daily inquiry as to the temperature back home and finally the discussion of that abysmal temperature with friends old and new.  Cruising is somewhat like Disney World was to me and my family many years ago.  It is the transference into a world of luxury and seemingly worry free atmosphere for a few days.  Or as Ron commented the first morning at breakfast…”they heated my milk for my oatmeal…they do not heat my milk at the Corner Cafe!”

Recently we were privileged to attend a lovely wedding in Arroyo Seco, New Mexico.  However I am getting ahead of myself as our plane landed in Albuquerque.  This southwestern city is simply beautiful.  We visited a house near the mountains and were spellbound by the beauty of the sun setting over the mountains and producing a red hew on their surface.  The city has a population of 558,000 and a peaceful demeanor that is captivating.  Not forsaking that Albuquerque is where the popular television show Breaking Bad was filmed.  My sister-in-law’s face lit up and her eyes sparkled when we arrived, as she had lived in New Mexico, and I could soon see why she was excited to return.  We stayed at the Hotel Nativo which had lovely southwestern decor and the friendliest staff I have encountered in some time.

The next morning it was time to begin our pilgrimage to Arroyo Seco by way of Santa Fe and Taos.  With a population of 67,947 the artistic haven of Santa Fe has a small community feel to it.  As we walked Canyon Road to visit the many shops I could not help but notice and feel the laid back…friendly…live and let live attitude of everyone we met.  Santa Fe is at an elevation of 7,260 feet and it was only up hill from there.  Santa Fe is the capital of New Mexico.

When we arrived at Arroyo Seco I noticed that I was somewhat short of breath.  I first thought that it was my continuing cold that I had been battling for over a week but then recalled that we were in the mountains.  Arroyo Seco’s elevation is 7,634 feet.  After a long day of site seeing and travel we sought out a good restaurant and found one that had delicious food and some of the best pie I have ever tasted.

I was seeking a turquoise ring to commemorate my New Mexico Adventure and found just the one at Claire’s Jewelry at Arroyo Seco at a very reasonable price.  Turquoise is the stone of the Navajo and although I did not know this at the time I purchased it…I found out shortly thereafter…and the significance of it grew exponentially.

The beauty of the wedding was breathtaking.  The poignant Navajo traditions that were part of the celebration were deep and moving.   Mary Jane and I were honored to be a part of the day.

I must leave you with some pictures of this beautiful country.  

New Mexico is called the Land of Enchantment and after visiting I heartily agree.

As we were sailing toward Scotland I noticed how chilly it was becoming.  I really had not thought about how far north Scotland is.  It’s only land border is with England and it runs for sixty miles.  The Atlantic Ocean borders the West coast and the North Sea the East coast.  It was about this time in our United Kingdom and Ireland Cruise that we encountered extremely rough seas.  Now I must confess that I was…to this point…extremely proud of my having never been afflicted with sea sickness.  In fact I looked upon those unfortunate souls with the little white patch behind their ear as somehow not cut out for true sea faring.  When the jostling began I greeted it with joy as it added some adventure to the holiday.  However I did wonder when it became apparent that I could not walk without holding on to a solid objects and when the nightly Broadway type show was cancelled for two consecutive nights for the safety of the performers.  As I lay in bed…on the first night of the heaving and swaying I felt the front of our little ship rise what seemed to me to be an interminable height…and then come crashing down with a tremendous jolt…time after time after time.  It was about this time that it occurred to me that ships do sink…even small ocean liners.  I reflected on the Titanic and Gilligan’s Island…and became extremely ill.  Or, as Jonathon remarked the next morning…he woke up and was somewhat concerned for our safety…prayed and returned to sleep.  The next morning I made my way slowly and carefully to the front desk for my free ration of sea sick pills or patches.  The somber attendant told me flatly that they were out and that I might try the on-board hospital.  As I entered humbly a stern nurse from South Africa instructed me that they were not a store and that if they gave me sea sick pills I would have to pay for their medical services…I replied whatever it takes…and thank you.

So, we landed in Scotland and were greeted by a wonderful jolly appearing gentleman in his kilt and playing a bagpipe.  As we made our way into the port shops area we again were greeted with very happy Scotsmen in kilts and rosy cheeked and offering us free whiskey.  As the Russian actor said on an old television commercial, “What a country!”  

I don not think that I have witnessed more verdant, majestic country in any of our travels.  It was simply beyond description.  

One of our most memorable stops was at a little village.  The quaint shops and homes were delightful and the residents majestically colorful.  

As we were entering one of the lovely shops the proprietor welcomed us in while he continued a seemingly passionate discussion with another patron as I heard him say, “I do not care what the Pope says…I have never believed that religious stuff…I am a pagan.”  I was reminded of the well known movie the Wicker Man…and thought what an interesting country this would be to have a lengthy stay in.

We walked Edinburgh’s Royal Mile and toured Holyroodhouse which is the Queens’ official residence when she is in Scotland.  I was also fascinated by the ruins of Holyrood Abbey.  

The Ocean was especially beautiful as we made our way toward Scotland.  The combination of the clouds, the chilly temperatures, and the sunlight shining on the water gave a special air of mystery to this enigmatic land.  

Ireland had been a country that we had wanted to visit for some time.  Along with purchasing books on the subject and discovering authentic Irish hats and wearing them proudly and observing St. Patricks’ Day with a pint of Guinness…or maybe two.  I think that perhaps Ireland was the most anticipated stop of our cruise around the United Kingdom and Ireland.  We docked at the Republic of Ireland which covers five-sixths of the Irish Island.  The Republic of Ireland is a sovereign nation and its’ currency is the euro while Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom and its’ currency is the pound.   Our first stop was the town of Waterford which is the home of the renowned Waterford Crystal.  We toured the House of Waterford and marveled at the craftsmen’s expertise.  

Waterford Crystal had actually been shuttered for a few years due to financial issues but had been re-opened and purchased by the employees.  After our extensive tour of the House of Waterford and some necessary acquisitions we took a guided tour of Dublin Castle.  This group was led by the best tour guide I have experienced…this young woman simply brought the castle and its’ rich history to life with her detailed accounts of what had transpired in the past within the castle walls and the lively current history of the edifice including the up-coming visit of Secretary of State Hillary Clinton alone with fifty foreign ministers scheduled for December 2012.  Her moving account of Queen Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh visit in May 2011 and the historical significance of the Queen recognizing the sovereignty of the Republic of Ireland was palpable.  

Our guide said that especially the Queen beginning her remarks in Gaelic was an honor to the Irish.

 At one point she was trying to recall an american movie and she asked the crowd of mostly americans if we could tell her the name of it…as the silence was permeating I said in a low voice…This is Spinal Tap…and she exclaimed that I was correct.  I have never seen the movie.

We had a delicious lunch of fish and chips at a local pub.  It was extremely full of happy people and one not so happy person.  As we were crowded against a table of young men who were throughly enjoying their Guinness I noticed that they regularly bumped against our table…with no ill will…just full of joy of life.  Thus when the opportunity availed itself we moved to a table with a little more room,  I looked up to see a gentleman glaring at me as he drank at the bar…and I really think he thought we were being disrespectful in some way.  However I returned to my delicious lunch and he left…ships passing in the night of different cultures.

Our bus tour guide told us that drinking and driving had become so prevalent in Ireland that there had recently been instituted a zero tolerance of it.  At almost the conclusion of our tour our guide sang Danny Boy…and her rendition added such a personal touch to our short visit that it brought goose bumps to the audience.  

There is a reason that everyone is Irish on St. Patricks’ Day…Ireland is a beautiful, magical, mysterious land that permeates the soul of its’ inhabitants.  

We had talked about it for roughly ten years.  The last time we had a family discussion regarding a trip to the United Kingdom…we chose Maine instead.  Now do not misunderstand me, Maine, is wonderful and we have since returned there for a repeat of what was an outstanding holiday.  However we seemed to never settle on our UK adventure…until we did.  In August 2012 we flew from the United States to London Heathrow Airport where we caught a shuttle to our hotel.  Upon arriving at the hotel, once again… this being our second transatlantic flight, we felt somewhat zombie like.  Thus we thought a traditional English Breakfast would be in order.  How delightful and delicious with plump sausages, blood pudding, and baked beans we ate our fill with workmanlike proficiency .  Now we were beyond sleepy.  As we sat on a couch in the ornate reception area Mary Jane was told that our rooms would not be ready for several hours.  I wondered if we looked somewhat like the characters from the old television show the Beverly Hillbillies?  I received my answer when I told the smartly dressed hotel professional that we had no where to go and were much to tired to do so if we did and therefore she could find us on the couch for the duration of our multi-hour wait.  She suddenly found our rooms…all clean and ready for our arrival.

We had arrived at the beginning of the 2012 Summer Olympic Games held in London.  As we flipped on the  television in our room we quickly noticed that the coverage from the British point of view looked like a different Olympics than what we had been watching just before we left the US.  Soon sleep overtook me and the events of the time prior to our embarking consisted or much needed rest and a lovely Indian meal at the hotel restaurant.  

We boarded the Princess Ocean Liner at Dover…and the cliffs really are white.  The ship was the smallest in Princess fleet and held under seven hundred passengers.  By contrast the Caribbean Princess that we had sailed on twice is one of the fleets largest vessels holding over four thousand passengers.  I thought that the smallness of the ship would be enjoyable…not so many opportunities to get lost.  Later during our voyage I discovered that there was a drawback to being a small vessel…but that is for another blog.  

Our first stop was the island of Guernsey.  It is a British Crown dependency.  It was liberated from Nazi Germany on May 9, 1945.  Guernsey had its’ own currency or the Guernsey pound…but we were cautioned on ship to insist on trading in British pounds as the Guernsey pound was virtually unusable anywhere  but Guernsey.  We toured fort Grey and marveled at the gun casements and the cannonball that was forever lodged in the wall of the fort.  We stood in rapt attention as the cannon was shot at noon sharp…as it is every day for hundreds of years by persons dressed as british soldiers from the era when the practice began.  

We also discovered that the famous author Victor Hugo lived in Guernsey.  Also that the island was famous for its’ ice cream…of which we partook, but insisted in paying in British pounds.  

I have chosen in this series to jump around a bit and so comes our bus tour of Scotland that culminated in the fascinating Inveraray Castle.  If you are a fan of Downton Abbey, as we are, you may recall the Christmas 2012 episode where the Grantham family visit the home of their cousins in Scotland called in the episode Duneagle Castle.  

Inveraray Castle is the home of the Duke of Argyll who is the chief of the Campbell Clan since the seventeenth century.  Our tour guide was a delightful woman of respectable age who simply brought Scotland alive with her lilting speech and stories.  As we rode through the Scottish country side I think that I have never seen such natural beauty.  

As we drew nearer the castle our tour guide began to be more excited.  She cautioned us that indeed the current Duke and his family did reside at Inveraray and that if we were lucky he might come down to greet us.  She went on to instruct us that we must not say, “How ya doing duke?”  But rather we should refer to him as, “Your Grace.”  So, with much fear and trepidation at the prospect of really meeting royalty we arrived and soon discovered that the Duke had not only agreed to come down but that he was assisting in the gift shop.  

The castle is a magnificent structure.   

Seeing the Duke dressed in his apron that said “Duke” on it was somehow reassuring as was his strange expression when I referred to him as Your Grace.  

On August 11, 2014, the actor and comedian Robin Williams died.  He was found by his assistant with a leather belt around his neck and slightly suspended in a seated position.  The immediate reaction across the world was shock and disbelief.  He had battled depression most of his life along with a recent open heart surgery and the beginning stages of Parkinson Disease. 

When I heard the news of Mr. Williams death…I was sad and felt a sense of loss.  I have reflected on this unusual feeling, in that I had never met him, and have since concluded that he had a special gift to touch those he encountered through his performances.  I think it goes without saying that he was a lightning wit when it came to the difficult comedic art form of improvisation.  Much as his mentor, Jonathon Winters, he had the ability to take any subject and extemporaneously create an involved intricate world and subsequently invite the listener into an experience that was totally unique.  But, it was more than that.  Mr. Williams was able to project a caring humanity that those who encountered him knew instinctively was not only real but came from a man who understood suffering and trouble and pain.

Robin Williams connected from an inner genius that he did not learn at Juilliard.  In the movie Dead Poets Society he said, “We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute.  We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.  And the human race is filled with passion.  And medicine, law, business, engineering these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life.  But poetry, beauty, romance, love , these are what we stay alive for.”  

Mr. Williams range as an actor was incredible.  His role in the 2002 movie Insomnia as the paperback crime novelist Walter Finch was chilling.  Or in One Hour Photo the creepy character of Seymour “Sy” Parrish who has developed photos of the Yorkin family since their son was a baby.  His ordinary demeanor portrayed through Mr. Williams understated acting illustrated the hidden dangers that can be as close as the one hour photo in any of our suburban communities.  Mr. Williams could draw from darkness…that he fled throughout his life.  

In 2004 Robin Williams visited with Koko the gorilla.  Koko communicates in a modified version of American Sign Language and even understands some spoken words.  Their playful interaction illustrates Mr. Williams ability to relate and empathize with another living being.  

Koko cried when she was told of Mr. Williams death…and we did as well.  

On Saturday, August 9 Michael Brown was shot and killed by a Ferguson, Missouri police officer.  The police say that Mr. Brown was unarmed but that he reached for the officer’s gun.  A witness to the shooting states that, “I saw the police chase him…down the street and shoot him down.”  Community protests have been ongoing since the incident with troubling police actions.  Two journalist with the Washington Post and the Huffington Post were arrested as they were filing their reports in a local McDonalds with one having his head banged against a window…and then being sarcastically apologized to by the officer.  St. Louis Alderman Antonio French was arrested after receiving national attention from his interviews and social media reports.  Al Jazeera journalist were teargassed and their video equipment dismantled by the Ferguson police.  

The frightening reality of these incidents is that it is not in the war torn middle east…but in the heart of the United States…the mid-west.  Without police protecting and serving our communities we would be a country of chaos and anarchy.  But isn’t that what has been transpiring in Ferguson, Missouri?  All of the protests have not been peaceful…in fact there has been some looting and rock throwing and dangerous tension filled moments for both the police and protestors.  Truth and justice of what happened with Mr. Brown and the officer who felt it was necessary to use deadly force..is for the courts to decide…but the reality of the extreme hurting of the residents of Ferguson cannot be denied.  How would you feel if your son had been shot to death?  The protestors are not all black…there are white residents of Ferguson protesting also.  Is it all right to treat some communities with more force than others?  Then is it also correct in difficult incidents of the exercise of free speech to decline those rights to the press…who were white?  The name Al Jazeera does not leave many americans with a warm and fuzzy feeling…so can we assume that the rights of free speech and assembly does not apply to them?  

Last night Missouri Governor Jay Nixon removed the Ferguson police from the job of security for the protests and installed the Missouri State Police with Captain Ronald Johnson heading the force.  A night of calm transpired.  Protestors say that now they are being treated with respect.  Order is being kept…which is what any of us would want if we lived in Ferguson.  

Often free speech is wonderful when I agree with it…and heinous when I do not.  However if we are committed to continuing our excellent experiment of democracy in our beloved country it has to be for everyone…not just our friends and neighbors…and people who look like we do.  Don’t we all have the basic right…when we see the police to feel that they are our friend…and the protectors of our constitutional rights?

Rome is a magical place to visit.  Having stayed there for about twenty-four hours prior to our cruise we were excited to return for an additional five days.  This was also somewhat unusual and adventurous for us in that we up until that time had returned home directly after a cruise.  So we were back at the Hotel Montecarlo and Claude.  We decided by majority vote of three, sadly Aaron had to return to the United States due to work commitments, that we would perform much of our tour of Roma by the walking method.  Since then I have discovered that every time we are in Europe walking is our primary means of transportation.  We set our for the Fontana di Trevi or the Trevi Fountain.  The magnificent fountain was designed by Nicola Salvi and built in 1762.  It is considered the most famous fountain in the world.  The fountain has appeared in several movies due to its popularity.  It is a breathtaking feast for the eyes.  

As we pushed through the very large crowds of people I noticed a young woman who was setting on a small wooden push cart and who was obviously handicapped.  Although many passed her smiling face by as if she was not present…a young priest stopped and spoke with her and gave her some coin.  By the smiles on both of their faces I saw the christian principle at work.

We discovered a wonderful trattoria near the fontana and enjoyed a great meal…in fact it was so delicious that we returned again during our stay in Roma.  Later that afternoon we returned to the Montecarlo for a short nap only to be awakened by the telephone and Aaron calling from a hotel near the Leonardo da Vinci airport.  He told us that his plane back to the United States had not shown up and subsequently was just a few miles away from us until a new flight could arrive the next day.  He was exhausted from waiting in long lines at the airport for hours before they secured him a room for the night.

We planned on dining at our favorite trattoria that was a block or so away from our hotel…but decided first to enjoy a drink at the hotel bar.  When we arrived at the bar we discovered that Claude was not only the front desk attendant but also the bartender and mixologist.  He provided us with some tasty drinks and we sat with some very friendly folks from England.  The gentleman told us that he had been robbed the night before and  that we must be careful if we boarded any of the trains because that is where his pocket was picked.  He went on to exclaim that if it were not for his lady friend he would be in a penniless circumstance as all of his credit card were stolen as well. I thought during our animated conversation that we had found friends for the stay at the hotel…but when I greeted the colorful englishman the next morning he barely replied hello…and did not seem to recall our revelries of the evening before.

In any event we returned to our super nice bald headed slightly crossed eyed waiter at the trattoria just down the street, that we had visited the evening before we embarked on the cruise, and he was ecstatic to see us.  He cooked his speciality for us and it was even better than before the cruise…if that is possible.  After the meal I inquired if he had any grappa?  Now, I must confess at this point that I did not know what grappa was but I had heard it ordered on one of my two all time favorite television shows, The Sopranos, and so I wanted to experience it.  The man beamed at the request and responded that he not only had grappa…but for me he would open the best grappa.  I replied with equal enthusiasm.  Grappa is a grape based brandy made from discarded grape seeds, stems, and stalks.  It was very strong, smooth, and good.  As the dinner concluded we had been educated during the cruise that the proper tip in most European countries was only a few Euros…if the service was good…and not the twenty percent that we americans were accustomed to.  Thus we left the culturally correct gratuity…and our wonderful waiter did not follow us into the street.

We began the next morning with the Montecarlo’s’ extravagant breakfast.  Chocolate is the theme with chocolate pastries and Nutella abounding and also some wonderful Genoa salami and diverse antipasto.  This is complimented with exquisite cappuccino.  Then, we were off to find the perfect suitcase for Mary Jane.  She was desiring a small hard case that would fit in the overhead compartments on the airplanes.  We walked several miles in this pursuit.  Finally we found just the right one…a small fire engine red Samsonite case and we quickly purchased it from the well dressed Italian lady who mostly smiled at us when we asked her questions.  Speaking of well dressed.  We noticed that almost all men and women we encountered were immaculate in their attire and thin.  Women wearing high heels and men in suit and tie…even when driving their Vespers.

The ancient ruins of Rome and the Colosseum were our next stop.  These sites are so imagination stirring.  

During our five days in Rome we took a twelve hour bus tour to Assisi and Orvieto.  This began with some excitement just after Bob’s Limo Service picked us up at our hotel and drove us to the bus tour.  A lady immediately came out and instructed us to follow her to a different bus line that would be taking us due to her company not having enough tourists partaking of the twelve hour journey.  When we arrived the tour guide said that he did not have our names on his manifest to which I replied that we had purchased our tickets and were planning on joining his tour…he simply waved his hand for us to board.  As we began the ride I was impressed that our guide began to tell us what we were going to see when we stopped as well as many of the areas that were passing by the bus windows…and he did this in three languages.  However when we stopped at Orvieto the bus parked at the foot of a gigantic hill that we then took a lift up part of the climb and completed it wearily on foot.  This process took over twenty minutes.  When we finally arrived at the top our guide who had spoken to us in three languages told us that, “There is the church…I will be under the tree…meet me under the tree in one hour”.  This was the modus operandi for the remainder of the day.  In fact there was a woman from South Africa that constantly berated him throughout the day for his lack of tour guide skills.  She told him that she had been a governmental official overseeing tourism in South Africa at one time and that she knew what she was talking about.  His response throughout the day was, “Madame…madame”.

A lunch was provided during the day at a local trattoria.  We were so happy to be reunited with our new friends from Barcelona, Dan and Michelle, and we sat next to them for lunch.  As I was attempting to make my order of the approved foods that the Tour had already paid for, the language gap got the best of both me and the waitress.  When Dan attempted to help by telling the young woman what I was requesting and I chimed in…she instructed me that she was talking to Dan.  I thought enough said.

St. Francis home of Assisi is fascinating.  St. Francis was born into a well to do family in 1181-1182. While Francis was going to war in 1204 he had a vision and returned to Assisi.  He then took a pilgrimage to Rome and joined the poor in begging in St. Peter’s Basilica.  He was then persuaded to live in poverty.  He is one of the most venerated saints of the Catholic Church. I think that his name sake the current Pope is an extraordinary leader.  We again had the opportunity to have a drink and snack with Michelle and Dan as well as Mary Jane discovering a wonderful hanging mask that she had been looking for.  

As the long tour wound to its’ conclusion and we got off the bus Mary Jane handed our trilingual guide ten euro.  Now ten euro is a good tip for a good guide…but our guide was just out of gas, so to speak, yet she handed him the reward smilingly and he responded, “You are to kind madame”.

As we departed Rome I was sure of one thing…we must return someday.  There are simply to many sights and sounds and smells to take in even is six days…but God knows we tried.