After our uplifting experience at the Cascades Raptor Center, we headed west on OR-126 to where the Siuslaw River emptied into the Pacific Ocean, the seaside town of Florence, our first destination on the Central Oregon coast. Here was what I had hoped San Juan Island would have been: kitschy souvenir shops, galleries showcasing local…
POSTS
Up close and birdsonal…
I mimed to Bob that I would give my opinion of the Breve latte and made-on-the-premises cinnamon roll from Wandering Goat Coffee Company after the train laden with wood planks and electric poles had trundled passed. What was all this talk about inflated lumber prices? Low supply? The seemingly endless stream of train carts was…
An unfamiliar road many times traveled…
The next morning, I had eavesdropped (if it could be called that) on the most asinine and pretentious conversation I had heard in a long time while we waited for our breakfast to arrive. But what would you expect at a place called Petite Provence. How dull was your life that you discussed the rationale…
Domestic it is then (The Redux)…
I was being halfhearted when I told my therapist two Thursdays before our trip that something inside was telling me that it was time for a break. I wasn’t really serious. Two weeks to arrange something wasn’t enough time. On our last trip to Europe in 2019, it had taken us nearly nine months to…
Between rocks and hard places…
The entrance to Grotte de Saint Cezare (“Cave of Saint Cezaire”) was deceptive. The nondescript beige-colored building with the undersized balcony in the middle of the woods could not possibly be the entrance to an underground network of tunnels. Maybe this was just the ticket office or the gift shop. We would still have to…
Moths to a flame…
Tuscany was replete with popular tourist attractions: the Statue of David, the Ponte Vecchio, the Duomo, the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The same could not be said of Provence; it had a unique appeal all its own. There was the scenic esplanade, the Promenade des Anglais, in Nice. Further west along the coast was the…
The Grasse is always…
The Head Note, perceived immediately upon applying the scent. Maybe if I had known what a nose (perfumer) was much earlier in life then things might have turned out differently. But how was I to know that such a thing even existed, let alone dream of becoming one? I am an immigrant; a child of…
F Your Diet (Italy)!
Say What (Italian)?
Buongiorno – “Hello/Good morning” Buonasera – “Hello/Good evening” Buonanotte – “Good night” Ciao – “Hi/Bye” Arrivederci – “Goodbye” Per favore – “Please” Mi dispiace – “Sorry” Mi scusi – “Excuse me” Grazie/Grazie mille – “Thank you/Thank you very much” Si – “Yes” No – “No” Signorina – “Miss” Signora – “Mrs” Signore – “Mr” Questo…
Crossing the line…
The Frecciabianca 9764 hugged the Ligurian Sea, known more famously as the “Italian Riviera”, as it arched northwestward to our connecting train station in Genoa. From there, Eurocity Italia 144 would take us further west across the borderline between Italy and France to our first French destination: Nice. FUN FACT. The Italian Rivera changes names…