Dec 19: Trading a day for some comfort. Waiting for the Delta flight to Rome, we heard them call for volunteers to give up seats due to overbooking. We talked about it, and then they announced it again. I was ambivalent and told Denise it was her call. She said yes.

We gave up our boarding passes, but then they said they didn't need as many people. But they offered us lesser seats than we originally had. We objected strongly, so the others flew and we got put up in a Holiday Inn. The next day we flew first class, and we got to hang out in the first class lounge while we waited. Comfort was stressed, with free drinks, snacks and quiet places to sit and read. They spoiled us on the flight: A real meal, drinks, and a chair that reclined for sleeping. It was a pleasant nine plus hours. I actually napped out for a time, unusual for me in a plane.

The Hotel Augustus told us they couldn't accommodate us for the following night, but could move us to a sister hotel a short distance away. How short is a short distance when you have several pieces of heavy luggage? They were also supposed to have internet, but that wasn't working. We didn't like the idea of moving all our stuff, but then I discovered a nicer hotel one floor down for only five euros more.

The Locanda Del Fante had a window looking out over the street at a wonderful old ruin, part of the ancient wall that circles the old city. There was traffic noise associated with a window on the street, but the view was worth it. We spent two nights there, which was all we could get with the Christmas influx coming. Another nice thing here was the breakfast in the room rather than walking a block for a coffee and roll.

On Dec. 20 we walked past the embassy district to the Spanish Steps, passing the American embassy (with signs about security upgrades) in route. It took some time finding the Spanish Steps, involving walking down into the Metro and back up, which took us past my first Gelato stop. Guy with roses pestered us until I gave him a euro for one.

Then we walked to the Trevi Fountain and sat to take in the beauty of this structure, emerging out of the side of a building, water gushing everywhere. We had to fend off some vendors in order to actually see the fountain.

We crashed early due to jet lag, but I got up a nine at night to pick up some pizza and beer from a little place across the street. The cute girl behind the counter gave me an opener with only my word that I'd return it in the morning, which I promptly did.

Dec. 21: We walked past the Porto Pia to the Metro and rode it to the "Collesso," where we took a guided tour of both the ancient arena and the ruins of the forum complex. The woman guide shared information about the history of the area that we wouldn't have had otherwise. With a little imagination, we could see the Collesso in its heyday. The second part of the tour was several groups combined and was led by a man. We wandered off before it was finished.

The Metro ride back was sardine-can packed, and I don't know if someone was hanging on for dear life, groping my ass or trying to find a wallet. We got back changed and walked a block to a nice little restaurant.

Dec. 22: We walked, after a good breakfast in our room, to the Metro and changed trains at Termini. We got off at the Vatican exit and walked the several blocks past all the cool stores and sidewalk vendors to the Vatican. There was no crowd to get into the museum. We just walked up, bought tickets and went in, ignoring all the tour guides. Denise did, however, rent the audio guide.

There are a series of rooms, chapels, apartments, etc as galleries. Some had sculpture, some tapestries, some paintings or frescos, and one map room, which I (a map freak) found fascinating. These showed Italy in the middle Ages. The final room was the Sistine Chapel. Needless to say, the art was incredible, and not just the Michelangelo, but also the Raphaels.

When the museum closed, and after a delicious but expensive lunch, we walked over to St. Peters, arguably the most awesome building in the world. The side chapels were each incredible in their own right, plus all the sculpture and art everywhere we looked. There were the lower domes and the great dome-which seemed to reach for the sky. The building is massive, and everything in it is on a larger than life scale.

Dec. 23: After breakfast we packed and caught a cab to the Termini, bought tickets and hopped an express train to Naples. It was the only time we went first class, which was uncrowded, with a lady who came around with coffee and snacks.

At Naples a guy "helped" us to the Circumvesuviana train at a cost of 10 euros. The train was packed for the first 3-4 stops, and I had to just trust our luggage, crammed against the side, was OK.

A ten minute cab ride around town got us to the restaurant in Sorrento where we checked into the hotel, which was three blocks and another five minute cab ride away. The woman from the restaurant came alone to show us our room, which was a three flight walk up, with a window on a busy corner above a 24 hour gas station.

After unpacking we walked back to the restaurant for good pizza and to pay for the room. We stayed four nights, as our place in Umbria wasn't ready, and nothing would be open on the Christmas weekend.

The narrow streets were packed with little shops, but we were too tired to do much browsing.

On Christmas Eve, we took the train to Pompeii. While not the massive crowds we might encounter other times of the year, Pompeii was bustling with visitors from all over. We saw Japanese, Chinese, German, English, Canadian and American tourists, plus vacationing Italians. Everyone had a camera. An interesting cultural sidebar-most people took photos of the ruins, but it seems that Asians always had to be in the shot. I was asked several times by Asian women to take their picture in front of some old building.

Pompeii was a large and impressive town of 20,000 or more. With not much imagination one can picture the walls complete, with wooden roofs and doors. Suites of rooms for the more affluent surrounded courtyards with the remains of central fountains. Poor workers had one or two room apartments. Without good heating, lights or TV to make home cozy, it seemed clear that people spent much of their evenings in one of the many public houses. In fact the town had many restaurants and bars, and naturally, brothels. Many of the streets were lined with what must have been shopping stalls. These were square rooms with a very wide door opening, much as we saw on the streets of Sorrento.

I came away with a feeling for a real town, a busy place filled with people engaged in the business of life, much like they do now. Wrapped up in their own concerns, they looked up in wonder and fear at the volcano erupting.

Sorrento is a charming shopping town with a harbor and marina. In the summer it is packed with sun lovers and beach goers. In winter there are almost no boats in the marina and no one on the beaches.

The place we stayed was a pleasant, but cramped, B and B, run by a friendly man and his family. The rooms are adjunct to the restaurant, which is on a small alley.

Christmas day was slow in town. We took a walk down near the water and around town. Down by the water there were 4 star hotels with sea views. Looking at people on the streets and the shop windows convinced me that Italians like to dress nicely, and it almost make me pull out my wallet and buy good clothes.

Had lunch at a nice restaurant, and by 3PM everything was closed, so we went back to our room to relax and read

Dec. 26: The road to Amalfi is twisted, narrow, slow and deliciously scenic. It rises out of Sorrento in a series of tight switchbacks, as it climbs far above the town. Along the way it passes resort hotels that perch on the cliffs and are probably out of my price range.

Then the road hugs the cliffs, often with a vertical drop of hundreds of feet, just inches from the bus window. At times, as when two oncoming busses try to pass, they must stop and inch past one another. Horns are used at every curve.

Unlike our Big Sur coast, parts of the Amalfi coast are craggy, with bare rock pillars shooting skyward. Often buildings seemed to grow out of the rock faces.

Positano and Amalfi are the two towns, both climbing up the mountain side like stucco stairs, both ending at the water. Both look like postcards.

Our bus stopped a few blocks before Positano, and most people got off. We found out that there was a local marathon being run in town and traffic was stopped for the duration. Soon the only people on the bus were the two of us and one American student. We decided to walk into town, where we watched the last of the runners, before we walked down the winding road toward the beach far below, stopping at a store for cheese, salami, and bread. It was Christmas weekend, and no restaurants were open.

The three of us walked, took pictures and shared experiences. Roger is a photography major, studying for a semester in Ireland. He was in Italy for the holiday and would be meeting up with family and his girl friend in a few days.

All along the way down the road, there were great views and photo ops. Every little way there were narrow steps between buildings, leading way down to the beach.

When we reach the bottom of the hill, we caught a bus back up to the main road and picked up the next bus to Amalfi. If anything the road got narrower and more twisted. After about 10 miles and 40 minutes, we arrived in Amalfi. The bus let us off in a lot by the harbor. We walked across the lot to a small place to grab some food, a tall beer and some gelato.

After eating, we crossed the road to a plaza that wandered back, through narrow passages, into the main part of town. In the plaza a beautiful old church stood at the top of a long and wide store stairway. There were places that sold pottery and art reflecting the vertical, pastel quality of the town. We picked up a wine stopped with the town painted on the top.

After a bit, the wind came up, so we caught the next bus back to Sorrento. As we approached town, the traffic became horrible. We crawled the last 2-3 miles, and when we got off the bus, the streets were packed. Apparently, the day after Christmas is some kind of a big deal. All the stores were full, and the restaurants. We had promised to meet Roger for dinner, and everything was jammed, so we went to our old stand by, the place connected with our hotel. Denise staked out a table and I went to get Roger. It was a great last meal in Sorrento.

Dec. 27: We got up fairly early, grabbed our bags, and lugged them down three flights.

We walked the half mile to the train station, pulling our bags behind. We were lucky to make all our train (trenitalia) connections. Getting into Naples, though, was a pain, as we had to go up two flights from the Sorrento train to the main station, and there was no escalator or elevator. I dragged the two big suitcases up the stairs, excusing myself 20 or more times.

After an hour's wait in Naples, we were on the train to Roma, but we hadn't learned to read the tickets. Turns out that we had assigned seats, which we discovered when a man said we were in his spot. We had to walk 6 cars down to our seats. Later I came back for our small bags. I walked back for the big bags just before the train stopped in Rome.

The connection at Roma was only a half hour, just enough time to buy tickets and a newspaper and walk to the train. This time we read our tickets carefully to make sure of our seats.

After eight hours of travel, we picked up our rental car in Perugia at 4:30. It was an easy connection, the Avis place being in the station building. They did the credit card thing, gave us a map and sent us up the road toward the freeway. Although we had directions, we took the wrong turn twice. It was getting dark, and I was having trouble reading the signs while trying to understand Italian driving. Twice we drove into strange towns on narrow roads with round abouts, and I was getting freaked. We finally got back on the freeway and just kept going until Denise found the sign for Castiglone de Logo. Before that, I'd turned whenever I saw a sign indicating the lake, which has many towns around it. We met Cheryl around 6 or 6:30, and she drove us back to her place for the night as the heat wasn't on at the lake apartment yet. She served soup and wine, and we got a good night's sleep.

After a shower and an American sized cup of coffee, we set out to the cottage on the lake. They were working on the heat and other things, so we hit the Coop (market) for supplies. Then we went into the ancient heart of the city, walled and on top of the hill, which is a peninsula sticking out into the lake. We had lunch at the Mona Lisa, where I had noodles flavored with squid ink and served with octopus and clams in a sauce. It was the best I'd had in my nine day stay, and one of the best of the entire trip.

Ancient cities on hills are a central theme in Tuscany and Umbria. When Cheryl took us to Castiglione del Lago on the 28th, the old city on the top of the hill was a preview of things to come.

On the 29th we drove to Assisi. First we saw the old cathedral down on the flats. Then we drove up to and into the ancient city. We ended up parking in the lot by the gate to the city and walked up to the basilica of San Francisco, a magnificent building that houses the remains of St. Francis, who gave up his family money to found an order of monks who take a vow of poverty. They made him a saint. These days they'd question his sanity.

We also saw the temple of Minerva and the Basilica of St. Clair. These buildings, I believe, date back to the 12 and 13 hundreds.

Assisi is a stunning old stone city with narrow streets going everywhere. We ate pesto in an out of the way place connected with a hotel. The food was great, and the wine very inexpensive, which is my main criteria for wine.

We generally try to be back to the cottage by 5, as it gets dark and very cold. It looks like the pattern will be to explore in the morning and early afternoon, and then head back to kick with food and wine.

On the 30th Cheryl picked us up for a trip to the Saturday market in Cortona, but first we had the repair guy get the heat and hot water going again. It damn near froze the previous night.

The old city is Etruscan, very old. Some of it dates back almost 3000 years, well before the Romans. Layers of Roman and later middle ages buildings have been built over the old Etruscan structures. So, the city, depending on what part you are looking at, is between a couple of centuries to three thousand years old, and all quite charming, with steps and alleys leading up and down and through brick arches. As always there are very old churches.

We toured two museums, one dedicated to the Etruscan period. Then we ate wild boar and pasta. We returned to the cottage, tried to do laundry, and blew out the power.

Apparently the Etruscans built with blocks of stone without mortar. Often these old walls are within newer ones. While the buildings seem primitive, the art doesn't. Pottery is of the tan/earthen colors, with designs in black. The bronze work is superb, particularly the human and animal figures. I was impressed with the ornate deer heads with graceful antlers.

New Years Eve: After driving to the wine country of Montepulciano, we drove around the lake to Magione, stopping in the heart of town for a quick lunch. We ended up at the Arthur Rimbaud Café, named after the French poet of the late 19th century. I mentioned the name of the two poems I knew by Rimbaud, "A Season in Hell," and "The Drunken Boat," and thus I struck up a conversation with the owner as best we could with the language barrier. They also had posters of the Bruce Springsteen concert in Perugia last Oct. 7.

New Years Eve was a food and wine orgy. We were seated at just past 8:30 in this fancy place in old Cortona, and we didn't get up again until after midnight. Our 100 euros each bought us well-dressed waiters, candles, and a seven (maybe eight) course meal. There was also champagne, two white wines and a very fancy red wine. Even a day later, I'd be hard pressed to list all the food. It was simply sensory overload. There were nice little appetizers; prawns prepared three different ways, pasta with seafood, desserts, a vegetable dish with various things, including asparagus. I rather lost track. It was too rich and too much, and my ass was sore from the hard chair. It was really good food, but too much of a good thing dulls the experience, leaving only the memory of heartburn and the feeling of being uncomfortably full. The nice-looking young couple at eh next table hardly spoke to each other and seemed bored.

The big disco dance party out in the square was just getting going after dinner and was refreshing. Filled with people, with loud music, and a video screen, it was more alive than the restaurant. Jumping around to the music helped settled the food. It was a trip to see people dancing to "YMCA."

We slept late on the first. Got up and did laundry under a drizzling sky. We found some fast food in the old city on the lake. We returned after dark after a futile search for an open market. And evening of wine and reading. We were lucky to have stockpiled some food.

Cheryl decided to drive to Siena. Since it is a large town, we drove through much of the new districts before reaching the old city on top of the hill. Apparently, the city missed much of the Renaissance after being decimated by the plague. Like most of these old cities, Siena is walled and sits high on the hill for protection.

The Duomo is one of the most magnificent cathedrals, almost as impressive as St. Peters'. The graceful gothic columns reach to arches and then to a framing of the great dome. Even the floors were great art, with inlaid carvings under foot. The stained glass windows were the most beautiful I've seen. The old library room has some wonderful frescos depicting biblical history. The exterior of the Duomo is as impressive as the interior, with deer and lions projecting from the façade and with columns carved with detailed images. There was nothing left "plain" on the front. The huge plaza is ringed with buildings, each slightly curved to crate a continual façade. There is a slender bell tower that must jut 200-300 feet to the sky. Below that is a government building and a museum, one room of which has frescos showing scenes of the unification of Italy.

Unlike most places we've been, Siena has much art for sale. Denise bought a small piece from an artist (Avalanti) who also does paintings on wood that has been cut like a big jigsaw puzzle. Many of these were whimsical, and since they were 800 euros plus, I passed.

Jan. 3: Florence is an hour and a half from Cortona by train. Florence is a terminus, so there's no question about whether you've arrived. We must remember to get tickets validated (stamped) before riding, as they don't appreciate ignorance of their rules.

For those who love to shop, there is an ongoing flea market where leather and wool goods are the only bargain in an otherwise pricy country.

We went into the Medici building with a towering dome and a Michelangelo room. Very impressive. Also impressive was the exterior of the Duomo. Besides being a magnificent work of architecture on the scale of St. Peters, the entire massive surface of the exterior walls is one monumental work of detailed art. We didn't go in because of the time and the reputation that the inside is rather plain compared to the exterior. The Siena Duomo is considered a far more beautiful interior, and we'd seen that the day before.

The statues in the courtyard of the Uffizi were in many ways even more impressive than the museum itself. One was a copy of David.

Much of the collection of the Uffizi consists of Italian painters from the mid 1200s to the late 1500s, and a disproportionate number of them are renderings of a few basic religious themes, albeit a wide range of interpretations. Yet, one can only see so many Christs on a cross or Annunciations before losing the sense of awe. Would have gladly paid an extra 5 euros for one whimsical Bruegel to spice things up.

The famous bridge over the Arno was better from a distance than crossing it. There is nothing but jewelry stores, all priced way higher than the same stuff at your local mall.

It is a vibrant city, with both high end and modest shopping. It is, however, very crowded on a week day in early Jan. Perhaps it is always that way, or maybe it's due to the Christmas season that lasts until the "Day of the Witch," Sat. the 6th.

Thursday the 4th was a kick back day. We didn't get up until almost 10 and sat around over a relaxed breakfast. When we went out, it was freezing, with clouds building.

After learning how to buy gas, we went into town (Castiglione Del Lago), and we toured the old castle, which had a narrow, dark passage way that lead to the castle itself, which had a narrow walk way around the perimeter. In the middle of the courtyard they'd built an ampatheater, undoubtedly a great place for a concert in summer. It was too cold to sit outdoors in January.

Then we ate lunch at Paprika, which had good food and was open when most places closed (after 2:30).

Then we hit the Coop and the internet point. We made reservations at a hotel by the Rome airport for the 12th and 13th.

Jan. 5, a long drive to Volterra, probably one of the most beautiful parts of Tuscany. Looking out from the town is like looking at a postcard or at some old, romantic Italian film. The road winds down and away from the city seemingly forever, fading into the mist slowly over the rolling, green hills. The town is noted for alabaster, and there are many shops that sell carved pieces, most seem to be made on lathes or other machines. There are few arty statues, but many bowls, vases, and some intricate lamps.

There is a big park that accesses an Etruscan acropolis, a ruin. There are also the gratuitous museums and churches. We did, however, find a treasure; Vanna Spagnolo is an artist who captures the vivid Tuscan landscape with her bold landscapes spilling over onto the frames, emulating the way the local landscape seems to overflow its bounds. We bought a print, being unable to buy an original.

Heading back late in the afternoon, we stopped at San Gimagino, a town of many towers (originally 72), visible on the approach. We got there just before dark and took many photos. We didn't have a lot of time to spend there, and soon found ourselves fighting Friday night rush hour traffic and looking for the freeway home.

Perhaps this is a good point to inject some observations about driving in Italy. At first driving in Italy is tense. It takes some time to understand the signs and the unwritten rules of the road. Also, traffic is always in motion, with round about far outnumbering four way stops. You usually have to make decisions on the fly, without the chance to stop for a moment to ponder your choices. Sometimes you are in the wrong lane for an exit and must stop a moment and force your way into the proper lane. Forcing is necessary, as Italians have little patience with people not knowing what they're doing behind the wheel.

There are a few other things to learn. When entering a highway, never assume anyone will yield. Rather, you wait until it's clear and then hit the gas. There's a similar rule with pedestrians. Only a fool steps out into traffic, even at a cross walk or a signal. The pedestrian must step off the curb and then make eye contact with the approaching driver, the two actors in the even thus acknowledging each other. Only then is it reasonable safe to walk. I say "reasonable" because a scooter is likely to emerge from out of nowhere and speed into the intersection. Dodging scooters is what keeps most Italians fit.

I was told that there were twice as many cars in Italy as there are people. That may be an exaggeration, but if you add in the scooters, trucks, and the little utility vehicles known as Bumblebees, two to one may be quite accurate. Italians are drivers.

They are not only drivers, but drivers on purpose. One does not take a ride to the mall or a ride to town in Italy. Driving is serious business, and it has a single objective, to get from point A to point B. At somewhere around $5 a gallon, gas is too expensive for idle cruising.

Most Italians don't even know how to drive an automatic. Something like 98% of cars are stick shift, and people drive them as if they were on a road rally. One whips into a round about and swerves off on the proper leg without so much as a moment's hesitation. Stop signs are considered an advisory, to be obeyed only if another car is approaching. On the Auto Strata, the toll road, it is wise to stay out of the left lane unless you are committed to the flow of traffic. It's not unusual to see lights flashing a mile back and then within seconds to have a car streak by at over a hundred mph. You swing into the left lane with foot down, pass a few cars and swing back.

While I probably wouldn't drive in Rome and wouldn't in Florence unless I had to, after a few days I found Italian driving refreshing. I think they are far better drivers than Americans, as they take it seriously and give it their full concentration. After returning, I found myself driving down Freedom Blvd. in Watsonville, shouting at the crawling traffic to get out of my way.

Most cars are small, even traditionally large cars like Mercedes have a sleek looking compact in Italy. Besides the price of gas, many of the streets in the old towns are simply too narrow for a full sized car.

On Saturday the 6th, the Day of the Witch, we returned to Florence on the train. I was getting to like that 90 minute ride, particularly after the rush hour of the day before.

We caught a quick bus ride to the Galleria Dell' Accademia, a place of great pieces of sculpture, including several unfinished pieces by Michelangelo. The centerpiece and the main attraction is Michelangelo's David, one of the best human figure sculptures I've seen, possibly the best in the world.

Then we started to walk up town and past the huge Duomo, which was getting some work done on one side. We went into the courtyard by the Uffizi to see the sculptures again. I put the fountain with the massive "Neptune" along side of the David as a great work, regardless of Michelangelo's opinion of the piece.

Then we went to the Museo dell Bargello, which was filled with more statues, including some beautiful pieces by Donnatello and Cellini.

Just around the corner was the Yellow Café, a popular spot with good food. Then we ducked into a gelato place and started walking toward the river and the Pitti Palace.

Along the river I found a nice leather belt for 5 euros, from a vendor who thinks California surfers are cool

The Pitti Palace was a bit pricy (11.50 euros), and a big parade was about to emerge from the main entrance, so we joined the mob outside and watched the Epiphany Parade, with the three biblical kinds, drummers, pipers, and all the ancient Florence clans in authentic costumes.

Caught the early train back, but the stores were already closed for the holiday. Stopped at a pasta and wine shop for supplies for the evening.

After the dinner dishes the heat and hot water went out. No showers!

On Jan. 7, we met Cheryl at the train station, this time for a short trip to Arezzo. The train was the better option due to the crowds expected at the huge antique street fair. This fair is one of the biggest in Italy, and bigger than anything I've see in California. It stretches for many, many blocks through the heart of the old city and the medieval plaza.

We were hosted by Cheryl's friends, Franka and Grazia, two lifelong residents. One was a teacher and the other a math professor. After walking around for hours and seeing occasional interesting items and a smattering of good art, we went to lunch at Grazia's apartment. The place was beautiful, two bedrooms and a den, two baths, a formal dining room and many really nice antique pieces, many handed down by family members. Her place is about two blocks from the train station, and a couple of block from the old city. She cooked a five course meal that was what I thought all Italian food should be. Plus, it was all made from scratch. . We did have a language barrier, and only Cheryl spoke both languages.

We came out in a light rain and headed toward the train. We got back to find the heat had been fixed-ah, a shower!

We opened the champagne we didn't drink New Years Eve, and the 3 of us toasted the cottage being warm.

Monday morning at 8:30 I rolled out and made coffee. It was nice having a bag of coffee and an American coffee maker. And that takes me to the idea of Italy on 6000 euros a day. There are four easy ways to achieve that figure. First, stay at four star hotels, like the ones on the water or right next to some great tourist stop. You can easily spend 300-400 euros or more on a room. The second is the take taxis. You can't go around the block for under 8 euros, and a ten minute ride will set you back 20. Taking cabs everywhere can cost you a couple hundred per day. The third, and potentially the most expensive trick is to try to drink coffee like an American while in Italy. Forget espresso, a shot glass for a euro. You'd need 20 to make an American mug. Cappuccino is a bit better, a small cup, half coffee, half hot milk. However, depending on the place, they generally run from one to 4 euros. My best was .80 standing up at a bar. For those of us who need two huge mugs to get started, that comes to at least a dozen cappuccinos, which equals 12 to 48 euros per day. The last is gelato. Be careful with the person behind the counter who pretends not to understand English. Unless you order carefully, you'll get the 10 euro cup or cone, which you won't be able to finish. Now add meals in any good restaurant, a bit of shopping, and wine, and you're spending 4 to 6 grand per day.

Anyway, I was up at 8:30, but Denise was sleeping in. It was another day to recharge the batteries, after several days of hitting the decks running and being on the go from 8AM to 7PM. We hung out locally, got groceries, and did laundry. We planned on getting a very early start for Lucca and Pisa the next day.

Did get a bit of cabin fever, so I drove around the lake on a side road. Cute town, with a marina, harbors and businesses facing the water, not like Castiglano Del Lago. On the way there I was more old buildings and quaint villages. Not much open as they get the week started late by not opening until mid afternoon on Monday. I returned via the freeway and stopped at the internet point to check the train schedule and my e-mail.

At 6PM the power went out twice in 10 minutes. Had to go to the front of this small complex and reset breaker. This development obviously built by non-guild workers and very much on the cheap.

If this is Tuesday, it must be Pisa and Lucca. We jumped in the car at 7:15AM with a bag of food for breakfast and headed for the auto strada, the toll road. We took that to Florence and transferred to the super strada (freeway) to Pisa.

Pisa is a big town with narrow, winding streets, meaning traffic. We thought we were near the leaning tower and the Duomo, but we were over a mile away. We parked, not knowing. A bus took us close enough to walk, once we spotted the tower in the distance.

The other buildings in the Field of Miracles were impressive, but the leaning tower stole the show. It's a very large, massive, sturdy and tall stone structure, and it lists appreciably. For 15 euros one can climb the narrow, slippery stairs, close to 500 of them, for a look from the top. For free you can walk around and enjoy it from the ground. Time and money made me opt for the second choice.

We had to pay to see the Baptistery, but it wasn't as interesting as the church, which was free. I did, however, climb 70 steps to the upper balcony.

While Denise looked at the souvenir stands, I walked back to the car to avoide a parking ticket. Then I picked her up at the corner where we'd gotten off the bus.

Getting out of Pisa was confusing, and we ended up taking SS12, the back and winding road. Still, we were in Lucca in about 20 minutes.

We drove through the narrow arch into the old, walled city and parked on the street. It wasn't busy in town. We were hungry, so we decided on lunch before sight seeing. We ran into a woman from Scotland who told us about the De Leo, which turned out to be popular with locals, had excellent food and was quite reasonable.

Then we spent a couple hours taking in the sights. There was one old cathedral we wanted to go through, the one where they pulled up the floor to discover ancient Roman ruins below, but it was only open on weekends in winter.

We watched the sun go down from the lovely old wall that surrounds the city and is both a path and a park for 2.5 miles. People were walking and jogging and watching the sunset.

Unfortunately, we took a wrong exit and got mired in Florence traffic at rush hour. After a quick spin through a suburban neighborhood, we were back on the auto strada, where we played autobahn and must have missed our exit. We ended up coming back several miles in a dense fog, on unlit country roads, getting to the local store just in time for a needed bottle of wine.

Slept in on Wed. The fog hadn't lifted, and we took our time getting out. We called Cheryl with the suggestion of visiting the castle town near Cortona. We found her place in spite of the fog and took the back road to town and followed the signs to the castle. Even with signs and after her asking directions, we failed to find it.

At this point I must comment on Italian explanations. Cheryl's conversation with a women in the neighborhood of the castle was typical. She asked where the castle was, and the woman spends almost ten minutes explaining, with an array of colorful hand gestures. When Cheryl finally returned to the car, we asked what the woman said, and Cheryl answered: "She thinks it's just up the hill at the next right."

My theory is that since Italy wasn't unified until 1860, and since there are many dialects and accents that make up the Italian language, people have learned to communicate with their countrymen from other areas by rephrasing things in several ways, accompanied by a broad vocabulary of hand and arm gestures. This has so become a part of the culture, that there are no longer answers such as "si" or "no."

Not finding the castle after a half hour of driving around, we opted to go into the town for lunch. We found the old city, walled with huge wooden doors. We walked around a bit and then settled for a little lunch bar at the gates of the town, where we had sandwiches and beer. We took Cheryl home as the late afternoon fog thickened. Filled the gas tank for 35 euros, picked up some supplies and got back before dark and zero visibility.

Thursday the 11th, we picked up Cheryl at 8:20 and went to the flea market in Camucia (Cortona). We found the same guy I bought a sweater from two weeks earlier and got another for Denise (100% wool), along with a hat and gloves. Lots of good stuff at this market that travels from the old town to the suburbs depending on the day of the week.

We then started out for Orvieto, taking the direct highway that connects all the little towns in between. We stopped on the way at a little hill town known for its red brick buildings. Walking up the narrow streets, we saw a tiny chapel with a fresco by favorite son, Perugolia (yes, a connection to Perugia). The guy manning the place was a member of the society that keeps the chapel and the tradition alive. Lots of pride here! The fresco had been restored twice in the 20th century, last time in the mid 80s. It was really well done, with faces I could relate to as real people, and with vivid colors.

We also saw a beautiful old church.

Then we found a great shop for candy and pastry. Then we were back on the incredibly windy road that following the ridges and went through every little hamlet. Soon Cheryl was getting car sick, so I had to slow down and start driving like an American.

Orvieto is a town built on a massive vertical cliff made of tufa (volcanic in origin). It seems to hang in the sky, almost surreal and Daliesque. Being the off season, we could drive to the upper city.

From the bottom of the city we caught a bus to the Duomo in the main plaza, at the top of the city. It had the most incredible gothic façade I've seen, complete with reliefs showing layers from hell up to heaven, tortured figures to angels. There were also external frescos in mosaics that were high art. The interior was also impressive, with many frescos and sculptures.

Couldn't find the modern art museum, but we saw several shops that sold beautiful hand painted pottery, mostly plates, dishes and the like. Some of these were exceptional works of art, differing only from museum pieces by their age.

Found a great, but expensive restaurant on the plaza, with a view of the Duomo. The service was great, and the waitress gave us a glass of complementary Orvieto wine and a piece of chocolate. Apparently she was impressed with the casual way Denise handled her diabetic monitoring.

We saw the walls of the city and looked straight down on the new town and found St. Patrick's well, which descended 263 steps in a double helix. Time prevented me from paying to walk down and back up.

It was getting late, so we took the auto strada back, and dropped off Cheryl. Then we went back to the cottage and waited for her. We took her to dinner at Paprika's in Castagliano Del Lago for our last night in town. Friday morning we turn in the car and make for Rome.

Friday the 12 was a travel day, which are often the most interesting. It took us longer to get ready, get packed and cleaned up that we thought. We didn't get out until nine, after I'd driven into town to the ATM.

It was an easy drive to Perugia as the fog slowly lifted, and the signs leading to the train station were clear and easy to follow. Unfortunately, the station was upon us before we filled the tank, so we had to pass it by and negotiate the circular traffic pattern one last time.

We turned in the car and asked the lady at the desk to watch our bags for an hour while we looked around. Naturally there was a bar (snack type) near by, where we got a pastry and coffee. Not much else in the neighborhood, other than a couple of stores that didn't have anything we needed. So, we headed back to the station, grabbed our bags and waited for the train to Rome.

The train to Roma was half filled, and I divided my time between a book and the scenery. Then in Roma, I used the automated ticket machine to get tickets on the next train to the airport. Half hour later we were on our way.

At the airport we found that the shuttle to the Marriot picked us up at four, so we grabbed a snack and then went down stairs, where it took a few minutes to find the pick up spot.

The shuttle was late, and these guys in old Mercedes kept saying they were part of the shuttle fleet to the hotel and that it was 6 euros, and I said not, thinking I was being scammed again. Finally, a shuttle came at 4:30, and I later found that even the shuttle was 6 euros for the 10 minute ride to or from the hotel. One of the drivers handed me a cell phone with a woman on the line who claimed to be with the hotel and was saying the shuttle was broken down. I figured it was his wife or girlfriend.

The Marriot is a nice hotel, but the food is expensive, and there are not a lot of options. The room was only 82 euros a night, booked off the internet, but the food, drinks, and transportation made up for it.

We had a couple of drinks at the bar and then sat down to the two course meal with wine. The next day we took the hotel shuttle into Roma for our last shot at tourism. Only one euro more than the train, this shuttle dropped us in the heart of the old town, 10 minutes from the forum, the Pantheon and all the other must see things. Only thing that was slightly further away was the Vatican, which we'd already seen.

The shuttle dropped us at another hotel owned by Marriot, and when we walked to the corner and turned, we were looking at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, a massive structure with stairs that go up five or six stories. We later found that an entrance around the back led to a museum, which we wandered through for a bit. There was a modern art exhibit on the ground floor, with a few really nice pieces along with many I considered boring. Then we took an elevator to the top and realized that it was primarily a war museum, and war didn't turn us on. We opted to exit the top of the building and work our way down the stairs, getting great views of the city from the top.

We continued to walk around the area, seeing the remains of ancient Roman buildings that were unearthed during construction of new buildings. Then there were more cathedrals, and by this time, they were all starting to run together. It seems that any city of any size has two or more, and that cities the size of Roma have a huge cathedral every couple of blocks. The Catholic Church must have been a growth industry at one time. Like other cathedrals in other towns, the ones we wandered into had great marble statues and frescos up all the walls and on the ceilings.

We saw a couple of great fountains in the Piazza Navona, civic art. Also, there were several excellent artists working and selling in the Piazza, and I wished we'd had to room in our luggage and the money in our pockets to buy one of these city scenes.

Then we went to the Pantheon, which was a unique experience. The outside showed the ravages of 1900 plus years, with broken pieces on the exterior molding and broken brick work. However, the inside looked as if the Romans might have completed it recently, if you ignore the Christian art and statues. The sculpted ceiling was beautiful but unadorned and was open at the top, a perfect circle. Apparently, the ceiling had once been covered in bronze work, which was later stripped to make the massive alter in St. Peter's.

We also bought pizza from an ex soccer star and had lunch and some really good been in the Bulldog Pub, where we chatted with a couple from the Connecticut.

Back at the hotel, I decided to walk the several blocks to town, which is a small fishing town. I picked up supplies at the store, as the only breakfast option at the hotel is an 18 euro buffet, and that would be a waste for people rushing to catch an early flight. We did have another of their dinner specials, which wasn't a bad deal, considering the quality and quantity of the food.

On the morning of the 14th, we had our store bought breakfast snacks and headed for the airport. The first flight was 11 hours to Atlanta, a seemingly endless drone over water. Then we did a one the run plane change, which included going through customs, picking up our bags only to deposit them again almost immediately, and then standing in line again for our next flight.

The final flight was only five hours, and after two martinis, we were able to relax enough to nap.

We picked up a car at the airport, and by 11:30 we were being greeted by two cats who were very, very glad to have us home.