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We ambled along the narrow lanes and found and stopped in another old Church, that of St. From the new market, we walked along the Arno to the Uffizzi Gallery and mingled with the throngs that gathered there daily in the small square next to the gallery. We stood in the sun along the Arno and ate our lunch while watching the daily drama played out on the Ponte Veccio. The Arno valley here is lush and green. Scores of nurseries and tree farms furnish Italy and much of Europe with trees and shrubs. Finally, we approached the Romanesque complex of the Church of Santa Maria. The Duomo, or main church, had been built in and the adjacent Bell tower in We reboarded our bus and set off through the Tuscan hills for Florence, passing by the small town of Vinci from whence Leonardo came.

We were heading through rural Umbria to the historic mountaintop village of Asissi, home of St Francis. The massive bulk of a 50, man Roman Legion had been deployed in the wide valley just behind us. She began a brief explanation of the significance of the church and the history of St. We wandered up the curved and winding alleys of the upper town admiring the substantial brown, fieldstone structures with red-tile roofs. After lunch, we walked around for a brief time admiring the valley scape and the well ordered Town of St. Francis of Asissi. Tiring with the day, we climbed aboard our motorized chariot and drove the final miles along the Po river valley to the Eternal City, Roma There are flocks of sheep, vineyards and villas on every hilltop along the way to Roma.

We were expectant and chatty with anticipation at arriving in so fabled a city. The sun was still with us and we were in Rome, so we set out with the Meads for a walk to Navona Square across the Tiber River. The two grand series of steps surround a wonderful floral garden. At the top of the very long steps stands the outline of the Villa Medici with its twin Byzantine towers. Interestingly, the stadium had a canvas awning that could be erected over the entire structure by a team of sailors using nautical ropes and pulleys.

Hydraulic engineers could also flood the first level and stage mock sea battles for the entertainment of the nobility. And now here it stood, a heap of interesting rubble stripped by scavengers for centuries of all its former beauty. The Forum itself was entered through the smaller Arch of Titus, built to commemorate the subjugation of Judea in 70 A. Still, standing there beneath the quiet blue sky of a Roman afternoon, one could imagine the triumphs and intrigues of a powerful empire that must have played out here daily.

As we left the forum and walked back over the Via Sacra, we passed by the grassy and treed remains of the Palatine hill where Rome was founded, in the 8th century B. The ruins of the Palace of the Flavian Emperors stands forlornly on the hill overlooking an empty oval of grass that had once been the Circus Maximus. From the Palatine and Capitol Hills, our bus took us for a brief ride across the Tiber to the living and breathing heart of Rome, Vatican City.

We stopped first at a religious store for rosaries, icons and all such necessary souvenirs. Next, we marched across the street to stand in what is perhaps one of the three most noted squares in the world, that of St. We made our way past the fountains and chairs, with thousands of others, to the very center of world wide Catholicism, the Church of St. Words are poor descriptors for the tiled mosaic friezes, bronze castings of various popes and shrines to many of the saints and holy family. Trevi Fountain. Dutifully, we threw coins over our shoulders into the fountain and hoped it meant we would return to Rome again.

We stood for a while watching many others, young and old, throw coins into the fountain and take pictures of each other. Everyone seemed festive and happy to be here, perhaps reflective of the legendary sunny Roman temperament. From the Trevi Fountain, we retraced our path to the Spanish Steps and then up the Via Condotti and across the Tiber to our hotel to take a breather before dinner. We crowded all 45 of us into a small back room and were served family style by sweating waiters. As we walked the length of the ornately decorated hallways of the Vatican Museum, Nora pointed out the array of wall-sized painted arras completed by Raphael and his students.

Next, we entered the quiet precincts of the Sala Immaculata Conceptione,an intimate little chapel adorned with grand murals honoring the Immaculate Conception of Mary, a primary tenet of church dogma. The third level is an evenly spaced depiction of a series of Popes, perhaps a sop to the financiers of the chapel. Lastly, in small triangles and created in a special paint by Michelangelo that is a collage of vivid oranges, blues,reds and peaches,are the prophets of the old testament like Daniel and Ezekiel. Finally, we come to the most prized of artworks, the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

We left the chapel appreciative of the experience and sat for a while in an outdoor alcove, near the Vatican post office and in view of the high relief of the Vatican Dome of St. We elected to take the bus back to the hotel. From the hotel, we walked with the Meads across the Tiber and wandered the back streets, on our way to the Pantheon. We walked along the narrow lanes to the Tiber River and past the massive fortification of Castle San Angelo with its wide moat. Tonight was to be the last evening in Italy for about half of our tour group,so a special dinner was planned.

They were being replaced by 12 new arrivals who had joined us in Rome two days previously. Upon arrival, we descended a flight of masonry stairs into the ancient cellar of a very old restaurant. Mary and I decide to take a 15 minute walk to the Piazza Cavour to clear our heads before retiring. We retired to our room, finished packing for the morning departure and slept like the dead. As we negotiated the morning traffic out of Rome, Lucio pointed out to us the remaining lengths of the old city wall.

Stretching for some eleven miles, it rises over 20 feet in height. The ride South was uneventful. We were driving through the narrow valley that stretches from Rome to Naples. The Allies drew heavy casualties here in their advance. To the East, the Appenines were snow covered. The mountains here are tall and can reach over 14, feet in height. At the Southern end of the valley, sitting along the beautiful bay of Naples like a large and tiered amphi-theater, sits the City of Naples. The traffic was heavy and a small demonstration of some sort was closing the downtown area. Our capable wheel man Fabrizio reversed course in the crowded street and threaded our way along the waterfront heading south along the coast. Our next destination was the small town of Torre Del Greco, where we stopped at a small company of artisans Giovanni Apa who carve cameo broaches from sea shells.

Most had been constructed of brick and faced with marble. We viewed a remarkably well preserved public bath with its steam rooms and lounging areas. It gave you a sense of the ancients as not so different from us. We were up early, wakened by the thunder and lightning flashing across the surface of the bay. King Arthur. We boarded the jet foil and for twenty five minutes had a ride worthy of Disney. The boat slalomed through the four foot rollers like a hog in a wallow. It had been financed and constructed by the Krupp armaments family. Mary and I wandered the alleys admiring the shops and stopped at a small cafe for panini and cappuccino.

There,we wandered for a time the upscale shops on the narrow pedestrian lanes and admired the even better view, of the bay, from the top of the mountain that is the Isle of Capri. While the girls were in browsing a shop, I noticed that Bill and I were left standing on a street corner. We walked slowly through town and up the hill to the Sorrento Palace where we sat on the terrace and admired for a time the lovely view as the sun set over the Bay of Naples. After dinner, we stopped by the lobby and listened to some music and chatted with each other for a while.

Lucky Cuomo Store. It is a display show room for an industry that provides work for a large portion of the town,wood working and furniture construction. As we approached the small tourist town of Amalfi, the traffic thickened like molasses in January. Pizzeria Di Marie. We had wonderful Minestrone soup and vegetable pizzas, with panne and mineral water, as we watched Mama Maria and her family work the old fashioned pizza ovens,smiling at the sudden onrush of business form the crazy Americans.

Cafe Royal. We waited until all of the soggy stragglers had made it back aboard and then slowly inched our way out of town through the tangled snarl of traffic. Frabizio, our sunny tempered wheel man was at his best along these narrow and crowded lanes. The bus returned us to the hotel, where we sat again in the lobby listening to music and chatting with each other. We were leaving these gentle surroundings tomorrow morning and heading North to Rome. We were up early, enjoying the scent of lemons and oranges and the sounds of birds chirping happily in the hotel garden.

It seemed like every available patch of green space in the area has its own lemon or sour orange grove along this narrow coast. A light rain fell as we motored Northward along the scenic coastline. Our fellow passengers on the bus were subdued and thoughtful, perhaps mindful of their imminent departure and the real life that lay waiting for us just beyond the ocean. We stopped for cappuccino and a break at a roadside rest stop. Lucio warned us about being approached by Gypsies with bogus items for sale. Another hour up the road and we approached the towering spur of Mt. Cairo that holds the hilltop Abbe of Monte Cassino. The next level and open stone courtyard features another statue of St. Benedict and one of his twin sister Scholastica, a rather interesting woman who had helped found the order.

Displayed in it, is a series of figures and small monuments to the lay members of the order who had become Kings and Popes. Lucio had told us to look for one of the twenty remaining elderly monks, survivors of the WWII bombing. We left the Abbe amidst the splatter of rain. One of our group, an elderly woman, was experiencing a brief reunion with local residents that she had not seen in fifty years.

Descending the winding roads from the Abbe, we could see off in the distance the floral cross and quiet grounds of the Polish Military Cemetery A man Battalion of these gallant lads had been attached to the British Eight Army during the final siege and storming of the MonteCassino. These brave men had led the charge and been virtually annihilated to a man by the superior German forces entrenched in the rubble of the Abbe high above them. Lucio narrated for us a tale of the many daily practices that the life of so important an Abbe had influenced among the local populace.

The food was both good and welcome, but the waiter skinned us with a bogus tale of included charges. As we approached the Eternal City , we could see many bright yellow mustard fields, flocks of sheep and abundant agriculture in the rolling hills outside of Rome. We threaded our way through the city traffic and arrived again at the Visconti Palace for our last night in Rome. The walk along the Tiber and past the massive old and circular fortress of Castle San Angelo was pleasant. The area around the Vatican was a swirl of people as we again admired St. A curate was singing mass near the main altar and the multi lingual confessionals all had lines of the faithful waiting penitently, signs of an older and different church from the one that we now know in America.

We gazed, interested, upon the many marble statues and tile frescoes along the various walls of the enormous church. I was rather taken with a small and innocuous bronze plaque on a wall near a museum, at the side of the church. Glazing over form the impressive reliquary and art treasures, we left St. We watched, for a last time, the walls of the ancient city pass by us and thought wistfully of the many people and places that we had seen in these last two weeks. We had a last Cappuccino, changed over some lire at larcenous rates and sat waiting for our flight. We boarded Alitalia flight and had a pleasant, if long , nine-hour, marathon flight back to Newark International Airport. We passed through customs and rechecked our bags with Continental Airlines for the flight to Buffalo.

Newark was fast becoming a madhouse as teeming thousands were returning from everywhere on their Easter Vacations. All passengers casually look up at a large electronic tote board that lists gate assignments. I could see the white cliffs of Dover as we crossed over the English channel and flew across to France. Sounds of French, Italian, Spanish and several other languages swam around our ears as we sat musing about where we were. At the top of the steps, we crossed a small terrace and looked down into the elegant rubble that is the remains of the Roman Forum. Its several tiers, all filled with open arches, even now reminds me of the many sports arenas we had visited. Then, we set out over the very pricey Via Condotti, browsing the windows of Bvlgari, Gucci, Ferragamo and a score of other trendy shops.

We wandered the back alleys, consulting our trusty map and once asking a merchant for directions. The trouble with asking questions in passable Italian is that the hearer assumes you speak the language fluently and rattles off a response in rapid fashion. We showered and prepped for the day. NCL was putting on a buffet breakfast in the hotel for the early cruise ship passengers. Three hundred and fifty cruise passengers had booked a few days in Rome and were expected this morning. We were debating where we would head next, when we noticed that the line had lessened for St.

I said a brief prayer for all of those whom we had lost and moved on to the marbled hallway. A small pile of stone cannonballs lay next to what must have been the remains of a medieval catapult, used to bomb the attackers with. A few tug boats and a single scull, powered by a lone oarsman, were all that broke the surface of this venerable and storied river. We slowly climbed the winding steps, to its heights, noting the occasional bum sleeping in the park bushes.

We walked along the parkway, dodging the odd service truck, and admired the imposing bulk of the Villa Borghese, sitting on a hill above us. A group of Spanish school kids were singing happy birthday to one of their group amidst much laughter. I signed up for an hour with the hotels internet station 20 euros and sent a number of messages to friends and relatives across the ether of cyberspace. Then, we settled in with paninis, chips,acqua minerale con gassata and a good bottle of Chianti, while we read our books and got ready to join The Norwegian Dream for an itinerary we had long anticipated. Like all liners, the boat is equipped with motorized, ocean-going tenders that are wholly enclosed and hold up to passengers when full. It was followed with a nice spinach salad, a grilled tuna steak and a delightful cannolli and decaf cappuccino.

Ensconced within are all of the original statuary and murals from the exterior of the church. As the marble became worn, throughout the centuries, artisans had replicated the original statuary and remounted them on the facade. We elected to choose again the Trattoria for dinner, where we were seated with Ray and Sarah from Atlanta. Geographically, the rocky headland of Porto Fino separates the gulfs of Tivuglio and Paradisio. We enjoyed the colorful front street of nice hotels, shops and restaurants, as we exited the bus in the rain. The harbor area rings a small marina, with wonderful sailing yachts scattered amidst the smaller craft. A light rain and a 42 degree chill greeted us, as we stood topside to watch the Dream get underway.

The Mediterranean Sea sparkled a dazzling blue against the bright sun and lighter blue of the sheltering sky. Francois Grimaldi, the founder of the line, came to the area in , with a small army of soldiers, all disguised as monks. The crenelated battlement of the original castle had been added to over the generations to produce an odd hybrid. Along the roadside, at several intersections, sit scale, bronzed models of Le Mans race cars, denoting the world famous auto race that roars through the streets of Monaco every May. We skipped breakfast and had coffee topside, admiring the Marseilles harbor and the surrounding mountains, in the bright, Easter-morning sun. It is now the second largest city and largest commercial port in France, with one million people living in the metropolitan area.

A score or so of fishermen were minding stalls that sold fresh fish, everything from whole squid and lobsters, to eels. The kind and elderly woman, perhaps a nun in mufti, helped clean the wound, put antiseptic ointment on it and dressed it in gauze. The city had erected three separate, exterior walls, for defensive purposes, as the city evolved over the centuries. Unfortunately , Antonio Gaudi was killed, in a traffic accident, at a young age and construction was interrupted.

Built for a world exposition, this elegant structure and plaza is now an art museum. American Presidents and their favorite foods. We chose a Gerald Ford, Norwegian, salmon appetizer. If you require further details regarding the transaction data, please contact the supplier directly. Diamond Head. The massive granite outcropping had been so named by Captain Cook, an early explorer who saw the crystallized volcanic material glinting in the noonday sun and thought the peak encrusted in diamonds.

We stopped for some decent Kona coffee in the Outrigger and watched the moving tableau around us. We managed that well enough and then had coffee and croissants in the lobby area of the Tapa tower. We were headed for the holiest of military shrines in the state, the Arizona memorial, commemorating the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7th, Hawaiian Home Program. A large group of high school kids were passing the time like all kids, singing, joking and clowning around. A graceful white arch of stone, with a series of open side vents and open roof area, house two smaller enclosed marble rooms at either end.

They had launched from the Akagi, Kiryu and two other carriers sailing a short mile to the Northeast. We had a nice Fiume Blanc for openers, then a shrimp appetizer, crA? Instead of molten rock, I could see the flow of electric lava as it slid down the mountains in the dark. We read for a time and then surrendered the hypnotic sway of the ship as we drifted off into the land of the great beyond. Our immediate impression of the islands is that it is lush and tropical, with a much smaller population 56, than the other isles in the chain.

There is a moral here someplace about pretending who you are not and the consequences of that action. In many ways, the Hawaiians resemble Native Americans with their preoccupation with superstition, mythology and colorful sagas transmitted orally throughout the generations. We boarded the vessel and had a nice lunch of fish, fruit and vegetables in the deck 14 buffet. After dinner, I was still reeling from a bad head cold, so we retreated to the room to read and retire. They spawn here from December through April and then in May, begin their swim up to the Aleutian Island chain.

We walked the paved ocean path, along the beach, enjoying the swaying palms, the flowering hibiscus, the neatly manicured lawns of the huge hotels and the general aura of opulence. We met and talked with Marty and Tom Bleckstein, who live on Maui and were aboard for the cruise to Tahiti. I am fine, Thanks in Tagalog. It was cloudy and warm, with the promise of rain, something that happens often on this side of the island. Great white swaths of dried calcium and super heated sulphur remained from the flows of heated magma. The fiery lava seeped into the ocean and created super heated mists that explodes the rocks and created the black sand beaches that we were to see in a few hours.

Thurston Lava Tube. The yard, ten foot high tunnel had been carved out by heated lava. In a few hundred years, this newest portion of Hawaii will be a tropical beach and palm grove. We had a glass of the Merlot in the cabin as I wrote up my notes and we settled in to relax for a bit. As we watched the big island settle into the Horizon, we met and talked again with Tom Bleckstein. The sky was studded with gray clouds, the air was warm and a brisk trade wind was quartering us from the northeast. Proper dress was required, so we cleaned up some and venture in to this now familiar place of gustatory titillation.

Analyze this. The really is a wealth of things to do shipboard if you seek them out. We enjoyed Lobster appetizers, pea and onion crA? We enjoyed the film and then made our way to deck 12 for Hagendaaz ice cream floats topside. This introduced crab and melon ball appetizers, a Greek Salad, Norwegian trout for me, all followed by an Austrian Sacher Torte and good coffee. The Palm trees and the vegetation here are lush and green, a result of the 74 inches of annual rainfall. It is a collection of those lovely, small grass-roofed huts that sit out on piers right over the ocean. The crabs are apparently nocturnal creatures and come forth at night o feed on the fallen fruit of the many trees I had noticed.

Shrimp cocktails, lentil soup, Alaskan crab legs and a wonderful black forest cake made for an elegant and relaxing repast. Several tents had been put up by local vendors hawking jewelry and Moorean arts and crafts. The deep blue of the far ocean, azure sky, studded with white puffy clouds, all accented the deep emerald of the lush vegetation on the island. These are limestone temple sites where yearly the islanders had sacrificed humans in a ritual to please the great god Oro. The 4-masted Windjammer and the Paul Gauguin were sitting at anchor in turquoise Opunohu bay, the palm trees were swaying in the breeze, against the brilliant backdrop of multi hued sapphire sea, azure sky and emerald hills.

A large car ferry and a smaller and swifter catamaran ferry made regular, daily trips to nearby Tahiti. The heat and humidity were intense, so we decided to hop the tender for the air-conditioned comfort of the Dawn Princess, sitting placidly at anchor in the bay. The backdrop images in the film are mostly taken from the lovely islands of Moorea and Bora Bora. A small tourist pavilion, adjacent to a newly constructed town square, dominates the waterfront here. The traffic is heavy and runs in twin ribbons of moving steel separating the town and the ocean. The first floor of this open-air barn is filled with food vendors selling everything from fruits to fish and any number of sundries.

We dodged the speedy traffic and visited another elegant Joualerie where we found a beautiful set of black pearl earrings to match the necklace pearl we had just purchased. We walked back to the waterfront and caught a shuttle for the minute ride to the commercial end of the port and the welcome air-conditioned bubble of the Dawn Princess. We had a definite sense of anticipation for our long awaited Italian adventure. Next, we set out in search of the Central Holidays Tour guide who was scheduled to meet us. Off in the distance you could see the snow covered Alps. Garlands of dirty gray clouds, pregnant with rain, ringed the mountain peaks like ringers tossed in a carnival game. From the towering mountains nature had gouged out , like the four fingers of a hand, a deep and scenic glacial lake.

We stopped by the famous Swiss Jeweler Bucherer and admired their pricey wares. The jeweler gave us a silver spoon as a memento. We noticed a sign for the pool Piscina and headed down to the basement for a relaxing swim. The water was heated and we luxuriated in its warmth. Night had fallen and the lake shore was atwinkle with illumination beneath the ponderous shadows of the towering mountains around us. Inside, Emmanuella our guide gave us a narrated tour of the opera house and accompanying museum. The shops lined a cross shaped and tiled arcade that was covered high above by a peaked glass roof. The four corners of the cross were open to the air and a fountain gurgled at the join of the cross arms.

The barking dog. The Streets of Verona are narrow and picturesque. You must first cross a paved causeway, stretching from the mainland for a mile, to reach this island city. Mahogany bannisters and woodwork, Venetian glass fixtures and fabric print wall paper give the hotel an ambiance of quiet elegance. Like most tours and cruises, meals are the less harried periods of the day and the time to share impressions and experiences of the day before. Arched pedestrian bridges crossed the many small canals as we made our way to the center of Venice,The Piazza San Marco. This building and all of Venice is built upon pilings sunk into the bottom of the lagoon.

Minor tremors and other earth movements often shift the surface below. After a brief demonstration in glass blowing, an army of sales people descended upon us to show us the many colored and world famous Venetian glassware. At 12 Noon, we met up with our group for a Gondola ride down the many small canals of Venice. Later that afternoon we set out along the narrow alleyways to find the Academia Art Museum.

We had eggplant with grilled tomato and vegetables, pasta with clams, sole, insalata, and tiramisu all washed down with Soave Bolla and Mineral Water. Then, we had a quick breakfast with the Meads and browsed the streets near the hotel one last time. The taxi dropped us off at the head of the causeway where we boarded our Central Holidays bus and set off for the one hour drive to Padua. The School was hundreds of years ahead of the rest of Europe in dissecting cadavers for research purposes. Groves of olive trees are clustered everywhere along the hillsides.

No arable land appears to be wasted. The streets were impossibly narrow and lined with cars and the ever present and annoying motor bikes. Rape of the Sabine Women. The windows are open to the light and you can look out, from one end of the upper gallery, to the Arno River below. The Europeans seem to consciously expose their children to art and literature and culture on a much greater scale than we do.

We ordered 16K and chatted with the bar tender in our best Italian and enjoyed the ambiance of the place. The Villa is a pale- yellow, two -story Italianate mansion sitting amidst sculpted floral gardens and overlooking the Tuscan countryside. The waiters served us courses of Insalata, Risotto, pasta con mushrooms, Potatoes with cheese and peas and a lemon torte for desert. It always seemed like a carnival and it was enjoyable just to stop and watch the swirl of people and events.

As we passed the beautiful shore of Lake Trebbiano, Lucio explained the significance of this sight in Roman History. Hannibal and his Carthaginian invaders sat undiscovered at the head of the narrow defile along the lake that we now traversed. Two mighty armies and peoples had pounded upon the granite slate of history with waxen mallets,their impressions all too soon faded and worn by the fibrous and scouring sands of time. We and hundreds of others listened to the Mass in Italian and sat respectfully in this historic old church. We sought Cena dinner at a place nearby that Lucio had recommended. It was one of the few restaurants open on Easter Night. It was here that the victorious Roman Generals marched in triumph to the Forum, to receives accolades from the Roman Senate.

The store offered various packages of reliquary that could be sent over to the Vatican to be blessed and delivered later to your hotel room. Hundreds of times I have seen this square on television, as a Papal address was given or more dramatically, when a new pope is elected. Mass was being said at the main altar and priests from many nations were giving confession in a dozen languages. You could feel the hurt in her eyes and sense the forlorn helplessness of a mother whose child had been taken from her. Built by Pope Sixtus IV as a private Chapel, the church was divided into an inner and outer chapel, separated by a 12 foot, ornate, wrought-iron screen.

The first fifteen feet are painted as purple velvet curtains. The texture of the work leads you, from a distance, to watch the curtains lest they move. Marie saw a nice leather coat in a small store and bought it The shop owner formerly had a girl friend that lived in Buffalo. He had even visited once,small world. Pagan, Christian or other, it is a place designed for quiet contemplation and harmony with the elements of nature. It had been at various times the tomb of an emperor, a fortification,a prison and is now a museum. As we sat in anticipation, the strolling minstrels played the Mandolin,. It was pleasant to walk amidst the Roman night and remember all that we had seen and done in one of the most ancient of European capitols. We watched the trained artisans etch and carve the medallions, rings and various pieces of jewelry from the shells.

The weight of the ash had collapsed all of the ceilings and the effect looked like a scene from a WWII movie after an aerial bombardment. They and the mural in the vestibule, with the outsized priasmic phallus, drew the most snickers from the tourists. Soon we came to the small coastal town of Sorrento, where we were to stay for the next three nights. The bus carried us back to the hotel where we read ,caught up with journal entries and surrendered to a conversation with ozzie nelson. The lemon and orange trees were swaying gently and the birds were singing happily in the rain. The topic of conversation was whether or not the jet foil trip to Capri was still a go for today. We rolled side to side and jumped the occasional roller.

Roberta shepherded us to the funicular that would take us up the hillside to the lower village of Capri. We gazed out across the deep blue Mediterranean, admiring the two massive rock formations in the harbor. The sun was shining and we had a gorgeous view of the bay and mountains along the shoreline. We stopped for ice cream at a small stand and watched the shoppers come and go. It was one of those sunny Mediterranean afternoons that give the area its magic and allure. Re Artu. The sales rep gave us a demo of the various types of woods used and the process involved in making the elaborately in-laid and finely crafted furniture. It had since been widened but is still a narrow two lanes, traversed by a monstrous crush of tour buses and traffic.

We were lucky too have so able a pilot steering us safely over roads as potenially treacherous as these. Tour buses were only allowed in the Southbound direction along the Amalfi drive, because of the hairpin turns and narrow passageways. We followed a series of five miles of winding and heart stopping switch backs, rising some feet from the valley floor,. Here, a central green space is dominated by statuary depicting the dying St. It was she who had started the custom, followed to date, of including a library and chapel in every Benedictine monastery. Each in his own way had looked after the interests of the order, perhaps in a time of great need for the brothers.

It is covered with lustrous marble and trimmed in gold. The bronze candelabra sparkled in the dim light and I could feel one of those time-warping mind blinks forming. They were the last twenty or so remaining monks in the complex, an unbroken monastic chain stretching from antiquity. Like most Monestaries during the dark ages , the Abbes were centers of learning and repositories for artwork. Perhaps it explains why they were so often sacked by the marauding barbarians. The Via Condotti and environs were as crowded as usual, with their weekend visitors. We ran into Bill and Marie Mead along the way and decided o take a last look at St. It seemed like we had the known the Meads for a very long time and were casually comfortable in their presence. We stopped for a time and said a prayer at one of the small altars, thinking ourselves privileged to do so.

Inscribed upon it is the lineal array of the Popes form Peter, in the upper left hand corner, to Jean Paulus I in the lower right hand corner. It is an unbroken chain of some of the most important and powerful men in History. The room was circular with a high and vaulted ceiling Fluted doric columns supported the walls and the large floor to ceiling windows gave the aura of a private garden in a Roman Villa. At times like these, you can only pretend not to know the person involved and run for the door. We had finished packing the evening before, so we had time to stop at a nearby restaurant and had bagels and coffee, while reading the paper.

A few of the piccolo mostro little monsters squawked a bit during the flight but it went quickly enough. The neatly outlined farms, of the French country side, flashed below us in a well ordered array. Once, this small area had been graced with rows of gleaming white marble structures, the business, commerce and affairs of much of the western world had been waged here daily.

We dodged their insistent sales pitches and walked out onto the Via Imperiali, walking towards the Vittorio Emmanuel II monument. The fascination of Rome is that you stumble upon these grand and ancient monuments so casually when you turn a street corner. We were headed in the distance towards the Fiume Tiber and the Piazza Navona, another famous gathering place and site of three majestic Bernini fountains.

You got so your ear could hear them approach and you knew you had to run like hell to get out of their way. Four blocks over, we spilled into one of the most famous squares in the modern world. The Piazza San Pietro was already crowded with pilgrims by mid morning. We walked about the piazza enjoying the semi-circle of the grand columns with their statues of popes and saints standing atop them. A line was gathered near a tombed figure with an open, glass side, so we stood patiently in line to see what drew the attention.

The frescoes on the walls, the gilded and painted windows and the wealth of two thousand years held us in awe. I figured a mass and a lighted candle at the Vatican might give him some juice in the far beyond. For 5 euros each, we entered and walked around the inside periphery of this two thousand year old castle. Off the courtyard lies a circular verandah that overlooks all of Rome. We sat for a bit and enjoyed the view, then found a tiny cafe where we had a cappuccino with other pilgrims who visiting the fortress.

We retraced our path, down the circular ramp, and exited onto the esplanade along the Tiber, replete with cadres of africans hawking all manner of souvenirs. It is a functioning museum, with a collection of intersting sculptures and art works, but we were tiring with the day and wanted to push on. A swirl of languages provided an auditory bath for our ears, as we walked amid the crowds, enjoying the life and laughter of so many around us. We had to ask how the Italian key board works, to find the ampersand symbol that is used in e-mail addresses.

The lobby was awash with businessmen, attending some conference or other, and hundreds of other cruise-ship passengers wandering about. The surrounding countryside was devoted mainly to agriculture, with many vineyards running along the coast. The papal states took possession of the harbor in the 14th century and it had evolved into the chief commercial port of Rome during unification in We stood in our orange life vests, with whistle and water activated light, and listened patiently to the crew member assigned to us.

It is our custom, when cruising, to have a drink at the topside bar and watch the ship leave port. We exchanged several comments in Russian and enjoyed the conversation with him. Siena is south and east of Florence, a beautiful city of art and culture that we had already visited and enjoyed on a previous trip. We stopped in the Piazza Tolomei, the home of the aforementioned banking syndicate, Monte Dei Pasche. A lively lunch, well seasoned with several flagons of the local Chianti, consisted of pasta and mushrooms in sauce, asparagus risotto, no carne for four , cheese, green beans and salad,finished off with a ricotta cheese desert that was wonderful and accompanied throughout with aqua frizzante.

Looking at these originals gives you an appreciation for the odd seven hundred years that the place had been around. A huge, victory-arch framed three floral gardens that are dedicated to Christobal Colon Columbus and his three ships on their voyage of discovery to the Americas in The lights, of the whole amphitheater of Genoa, were twinkling in the dark as we eased from the harbor and set off Westward along the Ligurian Coast. We drove down the grand boulevard, Avenue Crossette and viewed the huge hotels, the site of the international film festival and even a statuesque column to the emperor, Napoleon.

They attacked the surprised Genoese defenders and overwhelmed them, taking possession of the area and declaring it the Principality of Monaco. We walked along the Boulevard San Martin, passing two pricey homes that housed the royal daughters, and stopped to visit the Church of the Immaculate Conception. We parked at another huge garage and took the elevators and escalators up to a small plaza that houses the Monaco Opera house. Czar Nicholas of Russia, and Queen Victoria of England, and scores of lesser roalty, had been frequent visitors to the area.

It is of green and white striped marble construction, like the church in Siena, but much less ornate. We watched as several fishermen worked around their small fishing dories, cleaning and mending nets. Mary took over the job of transcribing my travel notes and agreed to take notes on the next few days tours, until I could manage to grip a pen well enough to write. It is a nIce turn of phrase. The streets in the area have ornamental wrought iron lamp posts and the buildings are adorned with ornate metal floral designs.

Originally planned as a 60 residence housing project for the wealthy, only two homes were ever built. It is flanked by a lovely parkland that stretches along the edge of this hillside and looks out over the city and harbor. We were bouncing messages off satellites, all over the world, and in instant communication with friends five thousand miles away. The Northwest and later, the Pacific Ocean were clouded from view as a massive front roared beneath us. Tiring, we headed back to the room to read, make some notes and surrender to the Hawaiian night.

A list of the sailors and marines lost that day, in raise metal etchings, adorns one wall, with a plaque and several American and military flags. The sight of an entire fleet of attacking planes, on a warm Sunday morning, must have been surreal as the angry wasps spit fire and lead into the row of battleships at anchor. Diamond Head, Waikiki beach and the other recognizable features of Oahu blended into the Ocean dark. The informative bus driver gave us a running narration of the fauna and flora of the island as well as a cultural overlay that we found interesting. It was a beautiful day and we decided to walk from the port area to the nearby Sheraton hotel and beach area. We sipped some passable Cabernet as the erose skyline of Nawiliwili harbor and Kauai faded into the setting sun.

One can only speculate at all of the events, legal and foul, that must have transpired under its shelter. We had enjoyed this low-key, unhurried look at Maui, without the hustle and commotion of a guided tour. His grasp of plate tectonics, the mechanics of volcanic eruption and a score of other disciplines, involving agriculture, local flora and fauna and marine biology were not just superficially acquired. The actual volcano mouth was surrounded by succeedingly larger depressions that extended out further.

The lava had the consistency of brittle tar that had frozen in wildly flowing waves of super heated rock. When the surface of a lava flow starts to cool, the molten lava often is still flowing beneath the surface. We had brought our books with us and sat outside, on lounge chairs on the covered promenade deck. Four photographers were busy taking pictures of passengers in their tuxedos and evening wear. We breakfasted in the deck 14 Horizons Court and then sunned on the aft fantail of deck 12, enjoying the leisurely time to read, try a cooling dip in the small pool and generally laze about the deck. After the movie, I sent some e-mails into cyber space enjoying the novelty of transmitting from the middle of the ocean via satellite, something that would have been near impossible only a few years before.

The performance was blocked some by clouds, but we watched it eagerly enjoying the light play of sun on water and sky as the day turned into night at sea in its daily magical performance. We smiled at the co-incidence and enjoyed another meal with these charming young people from London. Even better, across the bay at a now abandoned similar anchorage, the area had been named Paris. After the show, Mary and I wandered topside to look at the full array of celestial beacons that adorned the heavens. Even the name conjured up visions of Polynesians in outrigger war canoes with the sound of drums resonating in the humid air.

Harlan Coben , write up my notes and retire. The bay in which we were anchored, and most of the visible island, once were ensconced firmly in the center on an ancient caldera of a volcano that had risen some 13, feet into the Polynesian sky. The sturdy vehicles were clean and comfortable with seat pads, not anywhere near as Spartan as the guides had warned us. Tongue in cheek, the guide explained that, like most social programs the program has those who used it unfairly. French is spoken on the island exclusively and French Polynesian Francs the currency of choice.. Rotui was already peaking out from the gray wisps of cloudy garlands capping its erose peak. The 53 square mile island, shaped like a butterfly, is a popular destination for upscale tourism. It had rained heavily a few hours before and the small rain puddles made the walk through the open field interesting.

Small bushes, with thin and wiry leaves, are carefully tended by laborers and then harvested for their sweet fruit. All high school students have to commute daily to Tahiti as well as many workers who commute daily. Then, Lobsters tails and a light parfait, all washed down with a Mondavi Merlot and decent coffee completed this wonderful dinner. We could watch half a dozen freighters lading cargo, the men and forklifts scurrying here and there, noisy and busy at work. The accounts they brought back electrified Europe enticing artists like Gauguin and adventurers of every type. A few hundred yards over sits the huge Ferry dock for the daily shuttles to Moorea, visible on the horizon, just 11 miles Northeast of Tahiti.

The Tahitians are religious about stopping for pedestrians crossing the street, but it is still proved to be an adventure. We then walked down the main gallery of deck 7 and had some coffee in the small lounge outside of the restaurants. The new European Community is in the process of dismantling all of the cumbersome customs checks between its member states.

We walked along the Lake promenade and noted with interest the statues of George Washington and the Swiss hero, William Tell. It was too high for me. The last few hundred yards of the journey looked almost vertical in its ascent. We saw musical scores and various mementos from operas created by the Italian masters Puccini,Verdi and Donizetti. It was rebuilt according to original specifications, by the Italian Government, after the War. The imposing Soave Castle could be seen far off in the distance, dominating a hilltop and commanding the region.

We walked them and admired the architecture. Off one small lane we entered a courtyard,that of the Capuletti small hat family. Another motor launch had been hired to carry our luggage to the hotel. Alessandro informed us that on days of the year the square is entirely submerged in the waters of the nearby Adriatic. In this way, the Venetians insured a reasonable turnover in their chief executives. The average Doge ruled for 9 years. The Venetians had developed the techniques for making transparent glass in the 16th century and later the technique for making glass mirrors by adding silver to one side of transparent glass. These vessels are sleek, ebony, highly -decorated canoe -like structures that operate with one large oar working off a stern mounted fulcrum and a hearty gondolier to propel them.

After some exploring, we came upon the Museum but did not want to fight the hordes of students and tourists already occupying the place. Museum of Modern Art. How were we going to get across without retracing our steps to the nearest bridge far behind us? Around his altar and tomb are pictures, letters and mementos from people who had their prayers answered by St. Many of its streets are lined with a colonade-type of walkway created by an overhanging second story of the buildings.

It is a wonderful old trattoria that is a favorite of students and revelers. We descended into a basement that could well have been found in Bavaria. We checked into room , unpacked, wrote some journal entries and tried to relax before dinner. It is faced with green marble and trimmed in both red and white marble. Next to it and somewhat asymmetrical is the Agiotto bell tower, faced in the same marble motif. Along the hallways, almost casually placed, are scores of Greco Roman statuary salvaged from private villas, public buildings and many other sources throughout the empire. The Florentines had ordered all of the gold merchants to center here in the middle ages. They and many jewelers still plied their trades along this venerable bridge over the Arno.

Even the rain could not dampen the splendor of the place. Three fire places were ablaze as we entered the cozy villa. We washed down this magnificent repast with both red and white wine and mineral water as a musical group played Italian folk songs. We had breakfast with Tom and Nancy Martenis, from Vermont , and then set off walking the narrow streets of Florence. The Piazza Duomo was, as always, awash in tourists. We briefly admired the church, bell tower and Baptistry before continuing on. The sidewalk vendors performed a continual ballet of cat and mouse with the Carabinieri who shooed them away whenever they came upon them. The Ponte Veccio was similarly awash in people.

The baptistry is similarly styled and the three building are harmoniously attractive architecturally as a grouping. The Romans, thinking perhaps to catch the Carthaginians unawares, started their march in the predawn hours into the narrow defile. Curiously, scores of tourists still filed down the side aisles headed for the tomb of St. Francis on the lower level, economics I suppose. The storied and very expensive Hotel Hassler stands at the top of the stairs awaiting the well heeled. We had a wonderful minestrone zuppa, insalata, vegetables with desert, mineral water and several flagons of a tasty red wine, all for the modest sum of 75k Lire for 2.

Made of brown brick and originally faced with white marble, it now stands as a crumbling reminder to the glory that was Rome. Much like our own football and baseball stadia, the fans scurried to their seats cursing the traffic and hoping not to miss the thrill of the first contact and the approving roar of the mob. Nuns and priests from the far flung regions of the world wide church walked respectfully and purposefully amidst the sprawl of tourists from as many countries. Even were it not religious, this carved block of marble would inspire awe and appreciation. It was sunny and warm out and the area was a throng of people. We sat by the fountain and watched the ebb and flow of the tourists as they took pictures, drank from the fountain ugh and milled about, not realizing that the principle activity was to sit and watch the others.

A nice desert and all washed down with mineral water and liberal quantities of Abruzzi wine. She told us that the normal wait could be up to two hours with a line winding back a mile or so into St. It was windy and cool out as we returned to the hotel to pack for our departure tomorrow morning and prepare for dinner. Italy long ago must have been a pyrotechnic land shaking with continuous earth tremors , the skies covered with ash from the erupting volcanoes.

It certainly puts everyone on notice to consider well what others will find and view in your home after your passing. The mind blink was warping in and out as images of ancient people inter phased with the modern tourists walking the lanes. It faces the bay with two wings of four stories of rooms. Five outdoor pools empty into one another on a second and lower terrace A Grand central lobby, with bars and restaurant to the sides, faces out onto a broad patio that overlooks the Bay of Naples. Still who could complain? The lemon and sour orange trees abounded in the hotel garden, the sweeping bay was gorgeous and the warm air wafted over us with the scent of lemon and orange.

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