Part 2 3 and 4
"Part 1" should have been labelled "in the middle". The longest day started on Wednesday morning (SF time) and will continue on for a few more minutes, ending when I go to bed at 11:00 PM Friday night (Italy time). The real "Part 1" went very well. I managed to get some work done during the Summation day, but not as much as I had hoped. By 5 PM my mind was on getting home and preparing for this trip. After that I shopped Walgreens for trip supplies, created email lists, started Blogging, prepped the camera gear etc. Watered the plants inside and outside too. Right about then it was 3:00 AM and I realized I needed to think about the clothes at least a little before the taxi time came. So clothes got their 15 minutes due, and that was about it. The cab was called about 5:30 AM.
At the airport (SFO) I ran into my neighbor Al, and the monk he lives with. I haven't yet gotten an understanding of whether they are "room mates" or what. I hope Al starts acting like we're friendly neighbors. The Continental plane to Newark was jam packed with bodies. I and the woman next to me were in constant hip contact. That's about as mouch female intimacy as I was meant to endure. The Continental flight from Newark to Milano was much more reasonable. Sue, the woman I was seated with, and I got along so well she almost made me cry as we discussed George W.
Waiting for Italian customs in the Milan airport ("Malpensa") a conversation began with the person ahead of me in line. When he asked where I was from and I responded, he went quiet, and our conversation ended, even though I tried to keep it going by asking where he was from. "What is going on in that Kansas City boy's head" I wondered.
I guess I was thinking about that a lot, because I was all unprepared when I stepped up to the Italian Customs agent. I fumbled around and handed him my passport opened to a random page (not my photo). The customs agent took the book, stamped it and sent me through - never noticing where in the book the entry had gone, never looking me in the eye for shiftiness, never looking to see if I matched the image in the passport. I guess we ALL had something on our minds right about then.
Part 1
So I've made it! Not all the way to Venice yet, but I am in Italy (in Milan).
I have a 3 hour lay-over then onto an express EuroStar train to the City In the Bay.
It's not raining here! I hope the weather predictions for rain remain wrong for the remainder of this trip.
The natives are laughing at me for being in shorts. It's a good 5 - 10 degrees warmer here than back home, so I'll let them laugh (for now). No reason to put on pants that are too tight and too warm just to satisfy them.
I forget that everyone smokes here too. The bathroom was just choked full of smoke from the last occupant. It's still interesting to me that bathroom stalls in the US allow those outside to see the feet of what ever is going on inside the stall, while in Italy it can be a downright cozy cave of privacy. (Except for those awkward moments when the bathroom is unisex and a woman is in the stall right next door and we can hear all the sounds from eachother. That's just too icky.)
Part 3 and 4
| The air here is think with tree pollen. Well not pollen, that stuff that looks like dandilion fluff that comes blowing off of trees in the spring. I don't mean a small amount either. I mean a lot. As the train departed Milan Centrale for Venezia Santa Lucia, the air around the train, for as far as I could see, shifted like the portal view of a star field from within a ship accelerating to warp speed. Lots of that tree pollen around!![](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_uk3XE6Vl5awWNhWBLnYAcGCN_cEO5BLOK_G2d-mq1KAUefVThDxpV3aNUdKz5rRDakG9UdmY6Nuptlvo4-JXvGgVicNWh26fr3cOZRQQ=s0-d) |
I almost forgot - the really important things!
| When I was waiting for the train I sat outside in the open plaza in front of the station. That was so pleasant - just saving time to BE, instead DO. I said to myself "you should tell everybodùy to leave the house right now and sit down outside somewhere and just BE."![](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_tlrii-Z6oBe0Rn_HdI8Yf0lu-Eto3pQJmNVfwxPiY9MQEWkbtJRgskmsJsoKyM7DeW31_Nev8YMDx3fkbHa7xCNp-esHavtNSQoikshKs=s0-d) |
Another thing that's been rattling around in my mind is the idea of "missing" people. When I came back from Scotland I had told Cassie and Max that I didn't miss people while I was away, but now I think I misunderstood what "missing" really means. My day job is so much about communication - the more people are trying to coommunicate with me the more it means I have more work to do. When I'm out here away from home (and away from all the DOING) is when I actually start to feel like I have the energy to communicate. To initiate contact on my own. Lots of energy to communicate. What is "missing someone" other than wanting to share the moment with them?
I'm trying to get the hotel to let me to change rooms tomorrow. The room next door has a door to a deck in an open small plaza-like space. I want to sit around and BE somemore.