6/30/14. The post where we receive an abrupt welcome back to the real world.

6/30/14:  we were both wide awake by 4am.  As soon as our visiting dog woke up, I took him for a nice long walk while my patient, long-suffering husband went for a bike ride.  I made it into work early, where I was immediately shocked by how loud it was.  It wasn't even 8am yet and there was already a din of voices in the hallway outside my office door.  It took everything I had not to turn around and go back home.  Maybe I am overly sensitive after my two weeks of near solitude.

Once I got involved in catching up with my work, things seemed to quiet down. Or maybe I just remembered again how to shut it out.  I was pleased to find that no major catastrophes had occurred in my absence.  After one day back, I can proclaim myself "basically" caught up.  Meaning that I know what I have left to do and I don't think there are any evil surprises lurking in the shadows.  

After work we made a trip to the grocery store, where we did our best not to grouse about the quality of the produce or the crowds.  Time to hop back on the diet wagon.  We collected a cart full of healthy, sensible items and made our escape as soon as possible.  

After a combination of jet lag, the after-effects of extended periods stuck in airplane seats, and a day back in the office sitting at our desks, we were both a little worse for wear this evening.  I was back up to a 6 by late afternoon and hovered there all evening, while my patient, long-suffering husband's back was in the worst shape it's been for nearly a month.  No nap today, which I hope will make it easier to sleep through the night.  

A couple of additional jolts to remind us we are no longer on vacation: the cooling unit in our wine cellar went out and our upstairs air conditioning unit appears to be on its way out as well.  (Yes, I know - again with the First World problems.) Good news on the wine cellar front.  The cooling unit was under warranty and they are sending a new one tomorrow, which we hope to have installed before we ruin a cellar full of wine.  We are still in denial on the upstairs AC, hoping if we ignore it, it will magically start cooling better.  And who knows? Maybe it will.  After three weeks set at a much higher temperature, maybe it just needs a little time.  

I hope that's the case, because another new AC unit doesn't fit into the plan.  We are working on a post-vacation financial austerity plan that will rival anything the European Union can cook up.  Another good incentive to diet, I guess.  I can't afford to buy bigger clothes, so I need to concentrate on fitting into the ones I already own.

Early to bed tonight.  Hoping some rest will make tomorrow easier.  Otherwise, we might just have to pack a credit card and toothbrush and head back over the Atlantic again.  Although I'm not sure panhandling on the beach will be as relaxing as our vacation was.

6/29/14. The post where we have jet lag and a special visitor.

6/29/14: we got home very late last night, or rather, very early this morning.  We managed to get in a few hours of sleep before my patient, long-suffering husband had to go to work to prepare for services this morning.  I woke up feeling relatively refreshed, so I joined him.  Afterward, we had our only meal of the day, but it was a special one - Mexican food for the first time in three weeks.  One last send-off before the big diet begins Monday morning.  I stepped on a scale this morning for the moment of truth.  Six pounds.  It could have been worse, I suppose.  Still, I imagine it will take longer than three weeks to lose it again.

We came home to unpack and get ready for a special visitor.  We are dog-sitting our friends' chihuahua this week while they are on vacation.  He weighs less than what I gained over the last three weeks.  This is the first time he's been at our house for more than a few hours and he is a bit nervous.  And by "a bit nervous", I don't mean normal chihuahua nervousness.  I mean, "someone call the police and tell them I've been kidnapped" nervousness.  He seems conflicted - he already knows us and likes us, but he has a sneaking suspicion we are up to no good.  I'm sure he will get used to his temporary living quarters soon enough.

I was full of ambition this afternoon.  Luggage unpacked and put away, laundry sorted and started, mail sorted.  Then I sat down for awhile to watch a baseball game...and woke up about three hours later.  This is not going to help me get over the jet lag.  

Tomorrow, it's back to work.  And workouts.  And eating sensibly.  And taking better care of my foot.  I would say that I hovered in the 3-5 range for most of the trip, with a few brief episodes of 7+.  Much better than I expected, but by the end of the trip it was inching up again.  I am set up for a trial of the spinal cord stimulator in about two and a half weeks.  I read an article recently by someone with CRPS talking about the difference the spinal cord stimulator made to him.  Hoping I will have the same experience.  

6/28/14. The post where I tell you about our trip home.

6/28/14: we had a relatively late flight, so we were able to sleep until a reasonable hour and have a leisurely breakfast.  Then it was all aboard the hotel shuttle for the trip to the terminal, which took all of three minutes.  When we tipped the very professional driver for loading and unloading our bags, he said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you.  May God listen to you."  I've not heard a blessing expressed quite that way before, but I certainly liked it.  Probably a translation issue, but it felt particularly meaningful.

While most of the airport check in area was crowded, our particular airline was not, and we breezed right through.  We were quite early, so we settled into a restaurant for a bit, then went to the gate.  Frankfurt airport gets a big thumbs up in my book.  The airport was large and clean, the employees were pleasant and professional, and their security measures were sufficient without being degrading.  

We were able to book "economy comfort" seats for our return flight, which I also highly recommend.  The seats had more legroom and reclined further, and we got some of the business class perks.  We had a very pleasant flight to the U.S., most of which I spent catching up on recent Disney movies.  ("Oh, so that's what this whole 'Let It Go' thing is all about!")

My third travel recommendation is the global entry/TSA pre-check program.  When we got to JFK, we skipped long lines at both passport control and customs, and the security check was at least slightly more pleasant.  It was well worth the time and money we invested.   We found ourselves in the secure part of the terminal with three hours to spare before our final flight.

JFK airport?  Well, it was still a pit.  I can safely say they have not made any improvements in the last three weeks.  The international terminal was a little more pleasant and we found a wine bar where we could get a snack, charge our electronics, and have our first U.S. wine in three weeks.  Eventually, though, we had to make our way to the domestic terminal.  I will spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say the only thing missing was passengers carrying live goats and chickens.  We were tempted to go back to Europe just so we could avoid waiting in the domestic terminal.  Barring major renovations, I will do my best to avoid it in the future.

This was truly the trip of a lifetime.  I was afraid I'd built it up too much in my mind and would be disappointed, but it was even better than I had imagined.  Some people come home from vacation tan, rested, and ready.  I am coming home sunburned, fat, and incredibly happy.  While I am happy to come home and see family and friends, there is part of me that would have been very, very happy to stay.  It's back to the real world now, with work, diet, commitments, and doctor appointments.  Au revoir, arrivederci, and auf wiedersehen.

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Qy9_lfjQopU

6/27/14. The post where we celebrate the end of our vacation with one last hurrah.

6/27/14: a little more about our hotel in Strasbourg.  The building was previously an ice factory, located over one of the canals.  The machinery still exists on the first floor.  Would we like to see it?  Why yes, we would!  One of the hotel employees walked us through the ice factory, showing us the different equipment and explaining its functions.  In keeping with European sensibility, it had not been destroyed.  Nor had it been refurbished.  There the equipment stood, just as it has since the last time it created ice more than a century ago.

Our room looked out on one of the canals right at a filtration point, which made it sound like there was a raging river right outside our room.  Perfect for sleeping, actually.  We left our windows open all night long and enjoyed the "white noise".  I suppose that may explain my long dream about being on a pirate ship.

After a leisurely breakfast, we drove to our final trip destination: Frankfurt, Germany.  It was a pretty drive through the heart of German farmland.  There was no time for sightseeing, but that is not why we were there.  Instead, we were there to meet up with more of my patient, long-suffering husband's family friends.  When he was in college, his parents met a lovely couple from Frankfurt with a son the same age as him.  The families became friends and arranged for each son to spend three months living with the other family.  The families remain close to this day.  I had heard much about the couple, but had never met them.  

We went to their home to meet them for champagne and snacks, then went to dinner at a very elegant French restaurant.  It was quickly obvious that, after his father, this man had been the biggest influence on my patient, long-suffering husband's life.  While the parents see each other regularly, he had not seen them in 25 years. Yet they greeted him like a long-lost son and fell easily back into conversation.  They were excited to meet me and immediately made me feel at home.

Throughout the course of the evening, I heard many stories about my patient, long-suffering husband's college and travel years.  Since we met later in life, I am always happy to learn more about his life before we met.  And since I am rather fond of him, I appreciate the influence this family had on him in his early adult years.  It was a real treat and I hope to see them again soon.  

After another marathon dinner,  we went back to our hotel at the airport to get a little sleep, pack for our flight, and make sure we still owned clothes that would fit for our journey home. Otherwise, I will have to fashion something out of our comforter and safety pins.  Good thing I carry a lot of them with me at all times.

6/26/14. The post where the French impress us again with their mad restaurant skills.

6/26/14:  we closed down the restaurant again last night.  When you outlast the Europeans at dinner, you know you are having a good vacation.  My foot decided to behave itself today, which was a relief. We left Lake Konstanz this morning for Strasbourg, on the border of France and Germany.

Our drive took us through the Black Forest, with more unbelievably beautiful scenery.  We saw what was billed as the world's largest cuckoo clock, although the current limits of my access to technology will not allow me to show you the photo.  The trip was very pleasant and uneventful until we got to Strasbourg and tried to find our hotel.  That's when when we found out that TomTom doesn't recognize one-way or pedestrian-only streets.  Thanks to my patient, long-suffering husband's mad driving skills and my mad navigational skills, we finally made it to the hotel without injury to ourselves or others.

Strasbourg is a lovely city.  Part French, part German, part Norman, and part Amsterdam (minus the Red Light District).  It was a great place to wander around.  

We visited the Cathédrale, which has one of the most famous organs in the world and a huge astronomical clock.

We had dinner at another ridiculously good restaurant.  The French aren't fooling around when it comes to food and service.  Seriously, who needs four dessert courses?  Apparently I do.  I hope to remember the experience for the next six months while I am eating ramen noodles and raw vegetables trying to fit back into my clothes.  Luckily, we only have one more crazy good dining experience left before we come home and my dress doesn't contain any buttons that could potentially take someone's eye out.  

6/25/14. The post where we visit a lot of churches.

6/25/14: my foot did not behave very well in the night, but it felt okay this morning.  After breakfast at the hotel, we made a short drive to the island of Mainau.  Formerly a summer retreat of European royal families, it is now famous for its gardens.  It was a lovely morning and we enjoyed the walk through the gardens.  

The palace building and adjacent chapel still exist.  The palace can no longer be toured (except for the gift shop that takes up most of the first floor), but the chapel is open.  The opulence of European churches never ceases to amaze me.  I imagine they didn't have many issues with people napping during services.

We just managed to beat the rain back to the hotel and ate lunch during the shower.  It cleared up again after lunch and we walked to the old city center, where we toured three more churches, all within about a five minute walk of each other. 

I enjoyed all three, but the largest church was the most impressive, with remnants of the first church built on the property in the 8th century.  As Americans, it is difficult to conceive of buildings, or institutions for that matter, that have survived for that long.  And for that reason, we have a different attitude when it comes to aging landmarks.  Our tendency is to either demolish them to make way for something new or restore them to their former glory.  Europeans seem quite content to leave things as they are.  Today we saw a gate that used to lead to a boat dock on the lake.  It probably had not been used in two hundred years and there were tree roots growing through it.  And, guess what?  It was beautiful.  While I suspect I would have gotten rid of it long ago, I'm glad they didn't.  You mean my way of doing things is not the only way?  I guess that's one of the best reasons to travel.  

6/24/14. The post where we unleash our inner geeks.

6/24/14: it was still raining this morning in St. Gallen, but no worries, because we had some indoor sightseeing to do.  We walked a few short blocks from the hotel to the Abbey of St. Gallen, which was founded in the 8th century.  First we toured the church.  The most recent renovation of the church was done in the Rococo style, and they weren't fooling around.

The most important part of the tour, though, was the abbey library.  It is one of the oldest monastic libraries in the world, with examples dating back to the 9th century.  My patient, long-suffering husband had visited the library 25+ years ago and was anxious for me to see it.  A few of the books on display contain examples of the earliest known form of musical notation.  Some of you may not know this, but my undergraduate major was history, so this place was a nerd paradise for the two of us.  

There were shelves and shelves of ancient texts, with dozens on display.  Many had beautifully decorated pages and jewel encrusted covers.  A far cry from the iPad on which I do most of my reading now.  Some of the books contained a page or so at the end where the scribe explained how difficult it was to transcribe books by hand and asked the reader to forgive any errors.  At first this also seemed quaint to me, until I thought of the email postscript we've all seen - "This email was typed on a smartphone, please excuse any typos."  I guess some things never change.  

The room itself was incredibly ornate, with delicate wood floors.  To protect the floors, they require visitors to slip on very large flannel slippers over their shoes.  As a result, when you are in the library, your movements are more akin to ice skating than walking.  While I managed to avoid any mishaps, they did not realize that the chances of me damaging the room or its contents were much greater with the slippers than without them.  They no longer allow photos of the room, but I found one courtesy of the World Wide Web, so you can check it out for yourself.

We left St. Gallen for the short drive to Lake Konstanz, Germany and checked into our hotel, built in a former abbey.  (Notice a theme developing?)  Pretty nice digs for a monk, don't you think?

We took a long walk along the lake in the afternoon.  For the first time in our vacation, we were in a place that was completely flat and the temperature was perfect.  So I was extremely disappointed when my foot staged a rebellion.  It may have been a culmination of the last two weeks, but at what became the mid-way point of our walk, it suddenly remembered that walking really hurts.  We sat down at a cafe for awhile to rest with a cold bottle of water and then made a pretty uncomfortable walk back to the hotel.  Thirty minutes of rest seemed to do the trick, but it scared me a little.  

We had a wonderful dinner outside under the umbrellas and shut the place down.  (Notice another theme developing?)  Looking forward to another day here tomorrow.

6/23/14. The post where we drive through three countries in a day.

6/23/14: we said goodbye to our family friends at breakfast and then packed up the rental car to head to our next destination.  It would be approximately a five hour drive using the various toll roads, but our family friends suggested an alternate route that was much more scenic and would add about an hour to the journey.  This sounded good to all of us, so we went on our way.  

"Scenic" was the understatement of the year.  The route took us through northern Italy, over the Alps into Austria, and then finally to our destination in Switzerland.  I took hundreds of (terrible) photos with my phone's camera, but I could have taken hundreds more, because there was never a time when the scenery wasn't breathtaking.  (Cue "The hills are alive with the sound of music...")

"About an hour longer" was also the understatement of the year.  The five hour drive turned into an eight hour drive.  Driving through the small villages and up and down the mountains (sometimes in a parade of cars crawling behind a tour bus or 18-wheeler) added quite a bit of time to the trip.  Then late in the afternoon, the storms came in again, just as we were descending from the Alps.  With nerves of steel, my patient, long-suffering husband drove us through the storms and into St. Gallen, Switzerland just in time for a late dinner at the hotel before we collapsed into bed. 

Looking forward to a day of sightseeing tomorrow.  My foot is starting to protest a little more loudly each day and the rain hasn't helped, but it's still manageable.  As long as we don't have to hike over the Alps with our singing children in tow while being chased by Nazis, I'll be fine.

6/22/14. The post where we start the final leg of our journey.

6/22/14: up early this morning to pack up the car and leave the Cinque Terre for the final leg of our trip.  We drove to Milan, turned in our rental car, and took the train to northern Italy.  Milan would have signaled the end of our trip, but my patient, long-suffering husband's parents had graciously invited us to join them for the final week of a European trip they've been on for a month.  The last portion of the trip will be more fast-paced than the last two weeks, with several different destinations.  I'm hoping this will help to ease us back into the real world.

We met them and some of their old family friends from Germany in Lake Garda.  (Even in this day of technological marvels, I'm still amazed that it is possible to find someone halfway around the world.  How people did it hundreds of years ago is beyond me.)  I thought I would never be hungry again, but after a marathon travel day which resulted in a skipped lunch, we were famished, so drinks and a late afternoon snack with our new travel companions on the hotel's terrace facing the lake were a nice welcome.

They took us to a restaurant on the beach for dinner.  We all had adventures to discuss and stayed late into the evening.  Which meant that we were the only patrons still there when the thunderstorm hit.  Although our table was under a large canvas pergola, the staff whisked us inside for safety.  While we waited out the storm, they brought us complimentary after-dinner drinks, and then more food.  Not a bad way to wait out a storm.  When the weather finally cleared enough for us to get out, they called us a taxi and we rolled ourselves into the hotel, once again stuffed beyond belief.  Good thing we skipped lunch.

6/21/14. The post where we have the best laundry day ever.

6/21/14:  it was cloudy again this morning.  It's possible the ferries were running today, but we decided on a different plan.  It was our last full day in the Cinque Terre and we needed to do laundry.  The villa did not have a washing machine, but did have a good outdoor drying line and plenty of clothes pins.  So we decided to do a load of laundry in the town while we had breakfast at the cafe next door.  We went down early and had no trouble finding an open machine.  Thirty minutes later, we were on our way back to the villa.

We hung our clothes on the line and spent most of the day outside, reading and staring off into the sea.  We made one last lunch out of the food we still had left at the villa, turning the leftovers into the world's largest and most delicious pasta salad.  The sun came out and the clothes dried quickly.  I have become quite tan after two weeks in the Mediterranean sun.  At least as close to tan as a girl with my Celtic/English/German DNA gets.  After spending much of the day under a shady umbrella, we decided to spend about 15 minutes on the chaise loungers out in the sun so that our legs could catch up to our arms.

At least, we meant to spend 15 minutes.  Maybe it was more like 30 minutes.  Or an hour.  It's so easy to lose track of time here.  Must be the metric system.  In any event, my last souvenir of our time here is a pretty impressive sunburn.  

We packed up our dry clothes and got our things ready for an early morning departure so we could go down to the town for one last dinner experience.  As you know from my gushing over the last few weeks, the food has been incredible.  I can't begin to quantify the amount of fresh seafood we've eaten, except to plagiarize from Seinfeld and say, "The Mediterranean called...they're out of fish!"  The last phase of our trip will involve different types of food, so we wanted to take advantage of our last chance to gorge on seafood.

We chose the town that has been my favorite on previous trips, because it had what was advertised as the best food in the Cinque Terre, with a beautiful view of the town on one side and the sea on the other.  I wanted to give the town one last chance, because it had not put its best foot forward on this trip.  Every time we went, it was overrun with tourists and not it's usual pleasant self.  (The price we pay for going in June, I guess.)  Maybe Saturday night dinner wasn't the best time to hope for it to be different, but we decided to try it anyway.

And our gamble paid off.  We made late dinner reservations and by the time we got to town, most of the day trippers had cleared out and the streets were nearly empty.  We got to sit down in my favorite bar for an aperitif before dinner and then went to the restaurant, where the food and view were just as good as advertised.  We sat down at the harbor for a few minutes for one last look before making the long walk to the car park and I remembered why I loved the town.  There was no lighting on the 15 minute walk back to the car, but we didn't need it.  Between the hundreds of fireflies beside us and the millions of stars above us, we could see just fine.

We made it back to the villa and took in one last firefly show before collapsing into bed.  A day of laundry can really wear you out.

6/20/14. The post where we take a day trip.

6/20/14:  during the night and early this morning, my foot tried to reason with me.  It explained that it felt like it had been more than accommodating over the last two weeks, but it was time to stop all this foolishness.  So I used some of my prescription cream.  Then I did my best Edward G. Robinson impression.  (Or at least my best Bugs Bunny cartoon version of an Edward G. Robinson impression.)  "Now see here, Rabbit...er, I mean, Foot.  Here's how it's gonna' be.  I'm running this show now.  I worked hard for this vacation and there's nothing you or anyone can do to keep me from enjoying it. So, if you know what's good for you, you'll shut your pie hole, because otherwise things are gonna' get ugly real fast. Got it?"  At which point, my foot went off into a corner to sulk (and probably plot its revenge).  

We planned to take a ferry today that goes by all the Cinque Terre towns so we could see them from the sea, but the weather was not cooperative.  It was cloudy and windy, which made the water just choppy enough to keep the ferries from running.  Not to be deterred, we quickly settled on a plan B and took a day trip to Portofino instead, about an hour to the north.  It was a beautiful drive through part of the Cinque Terre National Park and the clouds disappeared quickly as we headed north.

We got into Portofino in time for a late lunch at a restaurant right on the harbor.  It is a beautiful town full of high fashion shops, nice restaurants and yacht clubs, for the owners of all the fancy yachts in the harbor.  It was actually more like what I had expected Monaco to be.  The people-watching opportunities were fantastic.  And while we try to be discreet in our people-watching, we have found it is much more socially acceptable here to blatantly stare at people.  Not a good habit to form, though, so we continued to be discreet.  Which made us stick out in this crowd.  Most people appeared to be dressed up and coiffed like they wanted to be watched, even the elderly men, and they were all certainly watching everyone else.  They were probably disappointed that we did not appear to be interested.  But I can assure you, we were.

After the long lunch, we did our customary passeggiato, wandering through the streets window-shopping with our gelati.  We also visited an old mansion on the highest point of the peninsula with incredible views of the town and harbor, not to mention a very pleasant cool breeze.  I guess in the days before air conditioning, that was the next best thing.  We made it back home just in time to watch the sunset and enjoy a glass of the local wine while we listened to Signore Rooster.  We had supplies to make dinner, but after days and days of too much delicious food, we decided to take a pass on one meal.  My first exercise in self-control since we left, and it was not through any virtue of mine, but only because there was no room for another thing in my stomach.

During the evening, we watched the clouds move up the hill and felt them pass right through us as they went through the villa and the surrounding property.  It looked like mist or fog, but felt like Heaven.   Could we find a place closer to our home where we feel this kind of peace?  Maybe.  But sometimes you just need to go far away.

The clouds have largely disappeared, so we hope to try the ferry again tomorrow.  It should be a fairly easy walking day, but don't tell my foot.  I'm hoping I've scared it into submission for at least a few days longer.  

6/19/14. The post where we eat and drink our way through the day.

6/19/14: thanks to Signore Peekaboo Rooster, we were up early this morning and ready to explore.  We decided to go to the final Cinque Terre town we hadn't seen, which was having a market today.  We originally planned to hike, but the guide book claimed it was the most difficult hike and we were pretty worn out from yesterday's hike, so in the interest of safety we decided to forego it. The road was closed for construction, so we took the train.  

We had some pastries for breakfast when we got there and hit the market.  After filling our bags with the freshest produce available in the area, we walked though the town.  We intended to have lunch there, but due to our early rise, we were finished far before lunch time, so we took the train back to the town where our car was parked.  This time, the train was filled to bursting with tourists and we had difficulty getting off the train at our stop.  Ironically, the only real issues we have had on our trip so far have been the result of other American tourists.  

We decided to have lunch at the villa and dinner out tonight, so we bought some more supplies.  On the way to the car from town, we stopped at a cafe to have a "second breakfast" and take advantage of their wifi to make sure the world hadn't come to an end unbeknownst to us. We carted our purchases back up the hill to the car and went home for lunch.  For those keeping score at home, that's three meals so far today.

After a brief rest, we went back to one of our favorite towns to do some shopping and hang out before dinner.  Of course, walking through town means gelato.  And then we had to try the arancini (fried balls of risotto stuffed with pesto and cheese) just to be polite, of course.  After some shopping, it was still too early for dinner, so we stopped in a bar for cocktails and some excellent people-watching.  They served us potato chips to go with our drinks and we tried some.  Because, where else can we get potato chips? 

We did a little more shopping and then popped into our new favorite restaurant for dinner.  I'm slightly embarrassed to admit I ordered the same thing I did the last time we were there, but it was so good I couldn't resist.  (An appetizer of stuffed anchovies and main course of stuffed mussels in a spicy tomato sauce.)  Then we raced up the hill with our stuffed bellies (a terrible idea, by the way) to get our car out of the car park before it closed.  We made it back to the villa in time to enjoy the sunset.  

My health monitor registered more than 16K steps today, but it is not nearly enough to undo the damage I did eating today.  It was totally worth it, though.  I bought a really pretty wrap skirt today during our shopping and I'm glad I did, because it may be the only thing I can fit into tomorrow.  A couple of random thoughts:

Anchovies - called "acciughe" here, they are plentiful and delicious.  Before you roll your eyes, try some fresh from the sea.  They are completely different than the salty ones we buy in a jar at home (which I also happen to love).

Church bells - at our villa, we can hear hear church bells from two different towns.  Maybe it would get old at some point, but right now I love hearing them.  The same goes for the roosters.  Even Signore Peekaboo Rooster.

Italians - I have visited multiple countries, and they are by far the best at communicating even when you don't speak the same language.  I don't know if it is the emotion or the gesturing or something more subtle, but I often feel like I know exactly what they are saying even if I don't understand a word of it.  It's like they're letting me in on a little secret no one else knows.

My patient, long-suffering husband - most of the time, he is in constant work modem, which can be physically and mentally draining.  It makes me happy to see him at a meal clapping his hands and grinning from ear to ear like a little kid, or scampering up rocky hills like a mountain goat, or completely serene as he reads a book or pets Russell.  This trip was just what he needed.  It was also just what I needed.  

Bugs - the property surrounding the villa is crawling with bugs of all shapes and sizes, many of which we have never seen before.  While normally this would give me the creeps, for some reason it does not bother me at all.  And oddly enough, while I had nearly 50 bites on my arms and legs (seriously, I counted them) while we were in France, I haven't been bitten a single time here. Since we've kept the windows open quite a bit, a few have made their way into the villa.  My patient, long-suffering husband has developed a catch and release policy.  He is calling himself "the Saint Francis of the bug world."  I hope they repay his kindness by continuing to leave me alone.

6/18/14, part 2. The post where I tell you more about the rooster.

Editor's note: I am publishing several days' worth of posts, so you may need to scroll down to see things in order.  We have been following the advice of this sign from a local restaurant.

6/18/14: I can't believe I almost forgot to tell you about the rooster.  While there are multiple roosters we can hear from our villa, we have one particular rooster friend.  Really, he's more of a "frenemy".  He does, without a doubt, the worst impression of a rooster I've ever heard.  Rather than the regular "cockadoodledoo" most of the roosters around here do, his is more of a "cockdoodoo".  To me, it sounds like he is hollering "Peekaboo!" incessantly.  His rooster friends must be horrified.  But he doesn't care.  He's letting his freak flag fly.  From about 4 to 7am every day.  And then again from about 3 to 6pm.  I hope it's helping him with his lady friends, but I seriously doubt it.

No Russell for us today.  Our villa is situated above his home, so we could see he was quite busy this evening.  He had to accompany his mom out to get eggs from the chicken coop.  Then some people came over to help his dad with some work in the barn, and his assistance was required.  No time to waste lounging around with the Americans who will be gone soon.  

Instead, we spent our evening engaged in a cherry pit spitting contest.  And while my form improved considerably over the course of the evening, I could never come anywhere close to matching my patient, long-suffering husband's distance.  I still have a few more days to practice, though, so he'd better watch his back.

If you're like me, you're sick and tired of talking about my foot, which is why I haven't mentioned it much.  But in case you are interested, it's doing amazingly well under the circumstances.  No, it does not like the long walks and hikes.  But I don't seem to be doing any permanent damage, and I'm pleasantly surprised at how well I bounce back each day.  I'm getting plenty of rest every day, which I'm sure is helping.  I can almost convince myself it is going into remission.  We'll see what happens when I get back into my normal routine.  In the meantime, I plan to continue ignoring it.  I don't have time to worry about it.  I have to work on my cherry pit spitting skills.

6/18/14. The post where we hike a million miles.

6/18/14:...and I'm back.  I think I got you as far as Monday night in the last post, so I'll start with Tuesday morning.  Tuesday was market day in one of the towns, so we started the morning by picking up some fresh produce to make dinner.  The market was very small, but the produce was incredible.    We spent much of the rest of the day exploring two more of the Cinque Terre towns.  

There are hiking trails connecting each of the five towns, but two of them are closed because of recent landslides and flooding.  As luck would have it, they are the two easiest trails.  (More on that later.)  You can also get to the towns by car, train, or ferry.  Tuesday we chose to go by car.  The layout of most of the towns is the same.  Visitor parking is above the town, and then you walk steadily downhill through the (mostly) pedestrian-only town until it ends at the Ligurian Sea.  Which means you walk steadily uphill back to the car.  A gelato will usually take the sting out of the uphill walk.  

We got back to the villa in the late afternoon and followed the now-familiar routine of appetizers and wine, quality time with Russell the dog, and then dinner outside as the sun sets.  I could get used to that.  Tuesday was a breakthrough with Russell.  He gave us our allotted petting time, then wandered off.  But this time, he looked back at us, then turned around and came back for a long bonus round.  He even wagged his tail once or twice. He doesn't want to admit that he likes us, but I'm pretty sure he does.

This morning we decided to brave one of the hiking trails between the towns.  We had a brilliant plan.  Drive to one town, hike between it and the next town, have lunch, then take the five-minute train ride back to the first town to pick up our car.  We knew the trail would be rugged, so we did it in the morning while we were still fresh and we were prepared with water and our sturdiest shoes.

The hike did not disappoint.  It took about an hour and a half of pretty strenuous hiking up and down rocky steps to reach the next town.  We were rewarded with some beautiful views, but by the time we were done, we felt like we had earned a big lunch at one of the restaurants down by the water.  Unfortunately, we hit town at exactly the same time as a horde of day tourists from either a cruise ship or a sightseeing bus who wanted the same thing we did.  For several moments, we got swept up into the swarm of people all wearing matching tour stickers and shuffling through the main road of the town shoulder to shoulder, crowding the narrow lane so that no one could possibly really see or enjoy any of it.  I heard one of the women from the group say to her companion, "Well, this is disappointing.  Not what I expected at all. It's so crowded."   Many potential responses flashed through my mind, none of which were very polite.  Just as I was about to create an international incident, my patient, long-suffering husband grabbed my hand and whisked me onto a quiet side street and up a flight of stairs to a nearly empty restaurant.  We sat down to another unbelievably delicious meal in a place we might have missed if it weren't for the crowds.

We took the train back to the town where we had parked our car, proud of ourselves for avoiding the long hike back.  When we got off the train, we saw the sign pointing to the town center and started walking that direction.  I was surprised not to see any buildings immediately.  Then I looked up and thought, why are there ants on the top of that cliff?  Oh wait, those aren't ants - they are people.  What are they doing up there?  Walking into the town, that's what they're doing.  Then I saw the zig-zagging staircase descending all the way down the cliff to where we were walking.   

On legs that were already wobbly from our hike, I followed my patient, long-suffering husband up the stairs, pausing frequently to rest and catch my breath.  We certainly earned our gelato today.

6/17/14, part 2. The post where I talk more about the last few days.

6/17/14:  we left Monte Carlo Sunday morning and set out for Cinque Terre ("Five Lands"), five small Italian villages on the Ligurian coast.  A bit more rustic than our last week, but one of my favorite places in the whole world.  Again, we rented a villa for a week so we could have a leisurely vacation, enjoying the sights and immersing ourselves a bit more in the local culture.

And boy, have we immersed ourselves!  The road that leads to the villages is very scenic, ringed by wildflowers, forests, and beautiful views of the sea - all meant to distract you from the fact that you are on a treacherous one-lane switchback road hundreds of meters above the sea, with no idea what is coming at you around the next blind corner.  We've seen hikers, packs of cyclists, scooters, motorcycles, cars, work trucks, and station wagons pulling campers.  My patient, long-suffering husband gets a gold star and a defensive driving award for getting us through this alive.  He was very cautious the first few times he made the drive, but by now he is driving like a local.

The villa is on a bit of land high above the Cinque Terre.  In fact, it is considered to be in a very small village that was probably bigger at one time, but now consists of our villa and three other families who have larger pieces of property with small farms in addition to their homes.  The family next door has a laundry business and it looks like they wash every towel in the Cinque Terre.  Our villa appears to be new, or at least it has been completely remodeled.  There is a large iron gate and a stone drive leading to the house.  There is a large stone patio looking out on the sea with two outdoor tables and two lounge chairs, as well as a wood grill, a sink, and an outdoor shower (spiders included free of charge).  There is a large "yard" beside and behind the house with olive, cherry, and several other types of trees as well as wildflowers and a very shady area with concrete benches.  While the owner doesn't get high marks for accuracy in advertising (the villa lacks wifi and air-conditioning, contrary to the listing), she gets an A for creating a beautiful and peaceful getaway.  Fortunately, the weather has cooled down enough that the air conditioning is unnecessary and as for the wifi, well, it's doing us good to be without it for awhile.

By early Sunday evening we were ready to explore, so we made the trip down to the nearest Cinque Terre town.  We were a bit concerned they might roll up the sidewalks early on Sundays and wanted to make sure we got dinner and some breakfast supplies for the following morning at the villa.  We needn't have worried.  We got our groceries and tried to find a restaurant, but most had not yet opened for dinner, so we had an opportunity to explore the village thoroughly.  When the restaurant we had scoped out for dinner opened, we were the first ones in the door and when we left after a nice leisurely dinner, it looked like the town was just gearing up for the evening.  

It was still dusk when we got back to the villa, so we sat outside until it got dark.  As we stood up to go inside, we saw a firefly buzz past us into the shady area beside the villa.  We decided to follow him and discovered he had hundreds of friends, and they were all flying around happily under the trees.  We stood there watching them for several minutes, in complete silence except for the sound of their buzzing and the wind rustling the tree leaves.  It was perfect.

The roosters started crowing at 4am Monday morning.  Apparently the roosters in our little village have an agreement to ensure they each get a solo in the morning and it was quite a lengthy performance.  No need for alarm clocks here.  We spent the morning exploring another town and buying dinner supplies.  After a delicious lunch, we trudged back to our car full and happy, and spent the afternoon hiking on a trail just outside our village.  The trails here are fairly steep and rocky, so all our stair climbing last week was a good warmup.  After making it through nearly the entire hike in a vertical position, I managed to fall down on the very last bit, no more than 100 meters from the villa.  I was wearing jeans and fell on my most heavily padded spot, so no damage done.  (I knew that extra ten pounds I've been carrying would come in handy at some point!)

My patient, long-suffering husband whipped up a delicious (and thankfully, light) meal with the supplies we had purchased.

Then we spent another quiet evening watching the sea and talking.  Not about work or calendars or chores.  Just talking.  Something we rarely can find enough time to do at home.  We also spent a little time with our new canine friend.  One of our neighbors has a dog who came to check us out when we first got to the villa on Sunday.  He sniffed every inch of our car, he sniffed all over the property, he sniffed us.  He finally let us pet him, but just once, and then he was off.

He wears a bell on his collar, so we always know when he is coming by to visit.  Last night when he made his rounds, we opened the gate and sat down on the road outside.  He came to us and sniffed us thoroughly again to ensure nothing had changed.  Then he stood there quietly and let us pet him for awhile.  He didn't seem to enjoy it or to loathe it.  He just knew it was part of the bargain.  After what he deemed was a sufficient amount of time, he went on his way without so much as a "ciao".  Or in his case, a "goodbye", because oddly enough, if his tag is to be believed, his name is Russell.  

Our human neighbors are very friendly.  We leave our car windows rolled down so we can exchange pleasantries when we pass by and we see them when we take our walks.  Everyone seems to be outside most of the day.  If I lived here, I would be, too.  I'm not sure what they think about one of their neighbors building a fancy villa and renting it out to strangers, but they've been very kind and we are trying to be good neighbors.

I have a lot more stories to tell, but this has already gotten longer than I intended and it is now that time of evening. Time for watching the sea, making dinner, and spending time with Russell, the fireflies, and my patient, long-suffering husband.  Ciao. 

6/17/14. The post to let you know all is well.

6/17/14: ducked into a cafe for breakfast that has wifi, so thought I'd check in and let you know all is well in paradise.  Lots of exploring, lots of relaxing.  I intend to write a longer post today and I'll send it the next time we have Internet access, but here are a few photos to tide you over. Ciao! 

6/15/14. The post where we go off the grid.

6/15/14: made it to our home for the next week. The bad news? No wifi, so it will be more difficult to stay in touch. The good news? No wifi, so it will be more difficult to stay in touch.  Talk to you when I can.  In the meantime, I'll be looking at this:

6/14/14. The post where we go to Monaco.

6/14/14: we were reluctant to leave our beautiful apartment this morning, but excited to go to Monaco.  We had a lunch reservation at a very fine restaurant, so we were dressed in our best clothes...at least, the best clothes we had packed.  We made a beautiful drive up the coast to Monte Carlo.  

The restaurant was in a hotel right beside the casino.  We arrived slightly early, so we wandered around the hotel, looking at the cases of beautiful jewelry, watches, and other luxury items for sale.  No prices, of course.  If you have to ask, you can't afford.  We didn't ask, because we knew we couldn't afford.

I cannot adequately express how wonderful a meal experience we had.  Course after course of amazing food, served in a beautiful dance by an army of perfectly trained wait staff, in an elegant setting.  No detail was overlooked. My patient, long-suffering husband also managed to charm them into a tour of the kitchen, which was incredible!  I can't think of a better way to celebrate our anniversary.  It's going to be tough to top that next year.

After lunch, we walked over to the casino.  You have to pay an admission fee to even enter the casino, and we payed the extra 10E to enter the "private" room with a stricter dress code (in theory) and higher minimum bets.  Not that it mattered, because we didn't place any bets.  We had plenty of fun watching the action.  It was unbelievable how much money was being won and lost at the tables.  We saw people tossing out 10,000E chips like they were quarters.  And do you know what?  None of those people were dressed appropriately.

This was a continuing theme throughout Monaco. The principality itself is beautiful and elegant.  However, it was filled with people who thought they were at Disneyworld.  I guess I have officially become a grumpy old lady, but I was disappointed that more people did not appreciate the experience enough to dress and conduct themselves like it was something special.  (Maybe I've watched To Catch a Thief too many times.)  And while I'm at it, you kids get off my lawn!  Okay, end of rant.

We checked into our hotel just as a thunderstorm came in.  It had been another unseasonably warm day, so this was a welcome change.  It would have been easy to stay in our hotel room, but in case this was the only day we ever spend here, we put on our rain jackets and went out exploring.  It is truly a beautiful city - I mean, principality.  We had a pleasant (light) dinner and then wandered back to the hotel to map out our plan for tomorrow.

Now that I am starting to get a little more comfortable with my French, it is time to move on to Italy.  At least they use the same currency, because I am also finally starting to get better at giving correct change, or at least getting somewhere in the ball park.

A little foot news for those who are curious.  I started off the day feeling great.  A combination of hot, humid weather and fancy footwear led to a significant downgrade, though.  Tonight It is swollen, red, and really irritated.  I guess a grumpy old lady deserves a grumpy old foot.  Hoping some rest and a car ride tomorrow in comfy shoes will do the trick. Bonne nuit...

6/13/14. The post where we are skeptical of everything, but all ends well.

6/13/14:  our last day in the area.  We had a few chores to do to ensure the rest of our trip goes smoothly, but we went into the village for breakfast first.  While at our "usual" breakfast spot, a friendly French gentleman started chatting with us.  While I love France and its inhabitants, I am always slightly skeptical of any French person I describe as "friendly".  After learning that my patient, loving husband is a Baroque musician, he explained that he is a writer for a web magazine that specializes in early music.    Before we knew it, they were exchanging phone numbers and he was promising to try to get us into a performance in the area.

As the morning wore on, we became more and more convinced that he was some type of scam artist.  We expected to get an email from him telling us he had inherited 50M Euros from a long-lost uncle that he couldn't transfer out of the country for political reasons and all he needed was our bank account and Social Security numbers so he could wire the money to our account.  Well, guess what? It turns out he is just a friendly Frenchman who writes for a web magazine that specializes in early music.  He sent us his contact information and sent an inquiry to the director of a well-known classical music presenter in the area making an introduction for us.  It's kind of a shame, actually, because I was looking forward to that 50M Euros.

One of our errands took us back into Nice to exchange traveler's checks for cash.  By the way, traveler's checks are gaspng their last breath as a mode of currency when traveling.  They are difficult to exchange and the exchange rates are terrible compared to other methods.  We generally do not use them, but we had a specific reason for needing to do so.  We had to drive into the heart of the city to exchange them, and by "heart of the city", I mean the "wrong side of the tracks."  Literally.  It was right outside the train station.

The exchange location was nothing but a small kiosk with what looked like a bank teller window.  The employee, another friendly Frenchman, warned us about Gypsies in the area who would try to pickpocket us.  I immediately became suspicious.  I've seen Casablanca many times and I know better than to trust a helpful local.  http://youtu.be/JW5bcI0ADCY. How did we know he was even a real employee?  Anyone could get a shirt with the exchange company's name and logo on it and sneak into the back of the kiosk.  So I began to ask him questions about exchange rates and other items that would require him to log into the computer and show me that he knew how to use their database.  Maybe I wasn't as clever as I thought, but in any event he knew enough to convince me that he was an employee and I gave him the traveler's cheques, which he exchanged for Euros.  What do you know? Sometimes you can trust a helpful local.

After enduring the terrible traffic and stressful exchange experience, we were ready for some lunch.  We didn't want to settle for a place that charged tourists overinflated prices for underrated food, so we walked in search of the perfect place.  And walked.  And walked.  We walked for so long that when we did find a few places that looked acceptable, they were no longer serving lunch.  Hot, tired, and thirsty, we finally ended up in the pedestrian-friendly shopping area and decided to go in the first place we found.  Which served us the best niçoise salad either of us had ever had.  So much for our superior restaurant-finding skills.  

After spending a little more time in Nice, we returned to the apartment, where I received a text from our contact saying she needed to meet with us in person about the broken glass.  Uh, oh.  Was the replacement cost going to wipe out our retirement savings? Were we going to be kicked out of the place for causing trouble?  Was this going to go on our permanent record?  

As it turns out, she wanted to meet us in person for two reasons.  Number one, she wanted to let us know that she would give us a receipt, a copy of the bill, and a letter of explanation in hopes that our homeowner's insurance would reimburse us.  Second, she wanted to make sure my patient, long-suffering husband was really okay, because the contractor told her that when he saw the condition of the glass, he was surprised no one was badly injured.  And best of all, the replacement cost was less than our security deposit.  

Moral of the story - there may be vultures everywhere, but most of the time, people are good and things work out.  All in all, I'd say it was a pretty good day.  The heat finally broke this evening, so we've spent our last night here outside enjoying it. 

While it breaks my heart a little to leave this place, tomorrow we go to Monte Carlo for a belated anniversary celebration.  And I don't mean this Monte Carlo.  

6/12/14. The post where we have a nice day in Nice.

6/12/14: yes, you read that title right.  I made a Nice pun.  Shame on me.  I blame it on jet lag.  Or caffeine.  You see, I don't use caffeine, because it makes me crazy.  Those of you who know me know that I am naturally caffeinated and have laid off caffeine products for many years.  But yesterday, some sort of jet-lagged madness took over and I had a Coke in the afternoon.  With real sugar.  About midnight last night, I remembered why I don't do that.

I spent most of the night solving the world's problems.  Fortunately, all my foot knew is that I was lying down and it was not being asked to do any work, so it was much happier this morning.  After breakfast in the village, we set out for a day trip to Nice.  The day started with a bang.  When we walked out of the apartment, we noticed a gaggle (I think that's the correct term) of older French women standing in the hall talking loudly and looking out at the parking lot.  When we walked outside, we realized why.  Someone had parked right behind our car.  Uh, oh.  

When the women discovered we were the owners of the car, one of them explained (mostly in English) that we were in her reserved parking space.  We then explained (mostly in English) that this was where the owners of our apartment had told us to park.  Apparently this was not the first time this has happened.  She told us the owners had not explained it correctly and showed us our actual reserved space, which was an even fancier, uber reserved space.  (Apparently we've been doing this wrong for five days, but she just got in today.)  Crisis averted. She moved her car and we were on our way.  

We knew Nice was nearby, but we had not driven west of our little harbor.  We drove about two minutes to the end of the harbor, rounded the corner and voilà!  Nice.  We probably could have walked.  Instead, we maneuvered through the jam-packed streets and got to an underground public parking lot.  (Shout out to my patient, long-suffering husband for making that happen with no permanent injury to the vehicle or its passengers.)  We emerged in the middle of their daily food market, which was thrilling and overwhelming at the same time.  Even on a Thursday morning, it was overrun with visitors and with all the different colors, sounds, and smells, it was a bit of a sensory overload.  After a few minutes, we adjusted to the pace and had a great tour.  

There was also a flower market and fish market and we visited both of them.  Then we started wandering through the streets, checking out wine vendors, patisseries, and other local shops.  It was another incredibly hot day - supposedly the last one - and it was nice to be able to duck into shops periodically.  We also toured a few churches we passed along the way.  (I must admit, every time I tour a church in Europe, I am torn between admiration for the beauty, artistry, and craftsmanship and concern over whether the money invested could have been more well spent assisting those in need.  Ah, the joys of being a life-long Protestant.)

We had a late lunch reservation at a very modern bistro with "haute cusine" takes on local classics, courtesy of my patient, long-suffering husband.  It was perhaps the best meal we've had so far, and that is saying a lot.  After lunch, we took a much-needed walk on the "Promenade" that followed the beach through town.  Mid-afternoon, we ducked into a bar in a famous old hotel that is well known for its classic cocktails.  

A bit of shopping for our dinner snacks, and we were on our way back to the apartment in the village, where a contractor came to measure the broken glass in the patio door and provide an estimate.  He arrived on a motorcycle and took all of two minutes to take the necessary measurements.  No idea what the total will be, but fingers crossed that it is less than our security deposit.  

Do you want to know the crazy thing about today?  The people in Nice really are nice.  We have enjoyed our stay in our village, but for the most part, the inhabitants are what you would expect from the "typical" French.  Very professional, service-oriented, and efficient, but quick to roll their eyes and sigh heavily when it takes me too long to respond or count my change correctly. I feel a bit like a child who has disappointed her mother by not studying enough.  (And as my mother can tell you, I am not okay with that!)  Our experience in Nice was very different, which I did not expect from a big city.  Almost without fail, everyone with whom we interacted was friendly and gregarious, and although they all spoke very good English, they patiently allowed me to practice my French without too much correction.  

Tomorrow is our last full day in the village.  We have laundry to do, errands to run, final "can't miss" meals to eat, and memories to make.  I will miss this place terribly and the only reason I am willing to leave is that we are going to another place I love.  I will leave you with a terrible picture of the view tonight.  Feel free to roll your eyes and sigh heavily at my lack of photographic skills.

  

6/11/14. The post where we have an action-packed day and I talk about several inappropriate things.

6/11/14: we rose fairly early again this morning and decided to walk into the village for breakfast and then go on a bit of a trek.  There is a walking path that winds completely around the harbor and passes multiple seaside mansions, including one formerly owned by the Rothschild family that is now a museum with spectacular gardens.  It was another hot, sunny day, but much of the path appeared to be flat, so we decided to try it.  (On a separate note, I woke up this morning to discover that I had multiple bug bites on my legs and feet, presumably from the garden.  I wonder if they have chiggers in France?)

While at breakfast, we remembered that today is the day a sightseeing boat leaves the harbor for a two-hour afternoon cruise down the Côté d'Azur (how many of you are now humming the Gilligan's Island theme song?), so we bought our tickets and then headed out for the walking path.  The path begins on the beach.  And this being France, of course it was a topless beach.  As we passed by, it struck me that the people who enjoy being topless are rarely the people others would enjoy seeing topless.  We saw some things that can't be unseen, no matter how hard we try.

We soon hit the part of the path that passed by the mansions.  Wow!  We had read earlier that this area was the second most expensive place in the world to live (the first being Monaco) and I believe it. Beautiful homes with lovely gardens on the land side and the harbor on the other side.  And many were in the process of being remodeled or updated.  What a place to be a building contractor.

By the time we got to the Rothschild museum, it was mid-morning and already really hot.  You know that feeling when your legs get really sweaty while walking and your thighs start to stick together?  (Okay, a few of you have been really slim all of your life and have never experienced that, but the rest of you know what I'm talking about, and don't pretend like you don't.)  I mean that kind of heat.  We toured the mansion first, which was not air-conditioned, but at least got us out of the sun.  Then we toured the gardens, which were breath-taking.  The property is at the highest point on that part of the peninsula and has 360 degree views.  Hard to believe someone actually lived there.  

After the tour, we took the path back to the village, being more careful this time to avert our eyes as we passed the beach.  Despite my comfortable shoes, I was starting to get blisters on the back of my feet and we weren't up to walking back up to the apartment yet, so we sat down for a nice leisurely meal before our sight-seeing cruise.  

When it was time for the cruise, we opted to sit inside the boat, since we'd been out in the sun all day and were both starting to turn pink.  The cruise took us past even more beautiful mansions and down the coast to the harbor in Monaco, where we chugged past yachts so large they looked like cruise ships to me.  After leaving Monaco, we took the same route back to our village.

On the trip out, several parties on the boat were talking very loudly.  Not the drunk and disorderly kind of loud, just the inconsiderate kind of loud.  That is not the kind of thing that normally bothers me, so I quickly tuned them out.  On the trip back, several people who had been sitting out on the observation deck elected to move inside.  Among them was a young British woman who appeared to be with her mother.  The young woman was wearing a sensible hat, a flowered jumper and butterfly earrings - very British and very proper.  She stared serenely out the window for about three minutes, while the men behind her continued to talk loudly.  Suddenly, with no warning, she turned around and yelled at the top of her lungs, "WILL YOU SHUT THE @&$% UP??? I'M TRYING TO ENJOY THIS!!!"  Then she turned back around and continued staring serenely out the window.  The most interesting part?  The men did shut up.  As did the two women who were talking loudly behind us.  In fact, everyone in the boat shut up and stayed that way for the remainder of the trip, which was much more pleasant and relaxing than the trip there.  Not how I would have handled it, but I have to admit it was effective.  

After the cruise, we were still too hot and tired to return to the apartment, so we had another sinfully delicious meal in the village, effectively canceling out any good we had done ourselves with all the walking.  We chatted with our very friendly waitress and learned that the heat we have been experiencing here is very unusual.  We also learned that last week, it was cold and raining.  I think we picked the right week.

We were finally ready to walk back up to the apartment to have a nice, long shower and watch the full moon rise over the harbor.  According to my health monitor, we walked more than 20,000 steps today. As I sit here with a screaming foot, blisters on my heels, a rash on my thighs where my legs rubbed together, a sunburned neck, and legs covered in bug bites, I couldn't be happier.