What I did manage to write:

As anyone who thought to check here for updates soon realized, I did NOT blog during my two weeks in Italy. Through a combination of non-stop travel, paid internet hours, borrowed computers and James' busted screen, online access became virtually impossible. I will in the days ahead offer some retrospective views. However, the one draft I did start at the beginning of the trip (which does NOT include the photos I had no time to download) provides a humorous segue to my ultimate blogging failure...

"Milano e Varese

Sunday in Varese, getting ready to head to Udine and friends of James. Caldo. Not much time to write so here are some photos. But first, some interesting characters you don't find on a US computer. òçù§°àéè^ì£."

A word from my Mom--

"If the time you are wasting is enjoyed, then the time you are enjoying is not wasted."

Bertram Russell

To all of you who aren't travelling, get busy!

Off to bella Italia

Look for updates from time-to-time. First stop: London for a 6 hour layover before connecting to Milan. Once there, I'll blog if I can find a computer and can stay awake. I'm hoping to see Da Vinci's last supper...I'm packing my paints and pencils, a new journal and new pen. Oh, and about 4000 pounds of clothes. When I arrive, I'll expect to find the few things I took out are the very items I could use.

Here's a little "tune" a friend sent as a send-off. All together now--

by Robert Louis Stevenson

I

THE VAGABOND

(To an air of Schubert)

GIVE to me the life I love,

Let the lave go by me,

Give the jolly heaven above

And the byway nigh me.

Bed in the bush with stars to see,

Bread I dip in the river -

There's the life for a man like me,

There's the life for ever.

Let the blow fall soon or late,

Let what will be o'er me;

Give the face of earth around

And the road before me.

Wealth I seek not, hope nor love,

Nor a friend to know me;

All I seek, the heaven above

And the road below me.

Or let autumn fall on me

Where afield I linger,

Silencing the bird on tree,

Biting the blue finger.

White as meal the frosty field -

Warm the fireside haven -

Not to autumn will I yield,

Not to winter even!

Let the blow fall soon or late,

Let what will be o'er me;

Give the face of earth around,

And the road before me.

Wealth I ask not, hope nor love,

Nor a friend to know me;

All I ask, the heaven above

And the road below me.

Ciao!