http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/ Taking Community to the Next Level ... Forums, Galleries, Blogs and much more en Fri, 03 Sep 2010 02:20:28 GMT vBulletin 60 http://www.thenoosphere.com/images/skilltest/misc/rss.jpg http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/ http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/106-long-road-home.html Wed, 04 Aug 2010 00:53:42 GMT Our last full day in Italy would be spent driving for the most part, from Amantea to a hotel just up the road from the Naples airport. Quite a long... Our last full day in Italy would be spent driving for the most part, from Amantea to a hotel just up the road from the Naples airport. Quite a long ride to ponder what went right, and what went wrong on the trip. Much was learned on this trip about traveling in Europe, not just Italy. The hardest lesson learned was that knowing just a touch of Italian will not get you by in the Southern part of the country. Even in the tourist areas along the coast, they don’t cater to English speaking people, as the majority of the tourists are Italians. I also gained a greater appreciation of many thing we take for granted in the States. Not a lot of conversation on the ride up, as we were both pretty worn out, and me a bit hung over. Excepting a lot of road work, driving through the lower half of the country was just beautiful. I want to return… I have to return. I could easily live there being so intrigued with my heritage, and loving mountainous places. We hit a roadside rest area for lunch, and was actually impressed with the quality of food, though it does bother me that I still had to drop a euro to use the head after dropping a fair amount on food and drink.

The plan was to get to our hotel in Naples, check in, and return the rental car. Catch a cab back to the hotel, and relax, making it an early night. With a 6:45 am flight, a good night sleep was of the utmost importance. Soon enough we were getting close to Naples, and looking at a map, the hotel was right off the highway. Of course, our slow talkin GPS Daniel told me to turn too late, and we were off on an adventure in down town Naples. By now, having gone through lots of towns and large developed areas, I had the driving down. The missed turn only cost us about 15 minutes when we rolled up on the opposite side of the street from the Ramada. The street was what I would say was wide enough for 4 lanes of traffic, with parking on both sides. The Italians had their own concept, with somewhere between 6 to 8 vehicles wide moving in some sort of chaos resembling ants on a sugar cookie, and cars parked on both sides. I’m thinking kamikaze U turn, and Cindy must have read my mind. “Why don’t you just go around the block,” is what I thought I imagined I heard. I looked to her, and she motioned “that a way,” and off I went. Around the block consisted of 5 lanes merging down to one for a construction zone, ¾ of a mile, and about 35 minutes of pure, unadulterated, want to choke the person next to you stress. Arriving at the hotel for the second time, on the proper side of the street, I sent Cindy in to see where I could park. She returned asking for my passport so she could check us in. “Cin…. Where in hell do I park …. Cin… Cindy….” So I sat, chain smoking and dying of thirst. She returned with a porter, and was gone again. It seemed like I sat there forever, when she finally returned. “So, where do I park this thing so I can hit the head, and get a drink ?” I got the standard confused look, as if I was speaking German.

Realizing I was gonna have to wait on both accounts, we programmed the GPS to take us to the rental car yard. All of 6 kl, but this was ol Petey boy being lead by Daniel. Somewhere around 45 minutes into the 6 kl ride, lost in some lovely neighborhoods, I made my way back onto a main road. Daniel was telling me to make a U turn, and then make a U turn as soon as possible. A U turn and another… hmmm…. doesn’t that have going in the same direction I started out in ? What the hell, once your lost, your lost, so I did what he said. Go figure, there on the right was the entrance to the rental yard. It was a good thing too, as I was seconds of pulling over, disabling the car, calling the rental company to come and get it, and catching a cab back to the hotel. By the time we got back to the hotel, which by the way was an eight minute drive by cab, it was late afternoon. Cindy was a mess, as I had let it all hang out, and drove like a true Italian city dweller. As we walked into the lobby, Cindy marched up to the desk and asked where the bar was. Waiting somewhat impatiently at the bar, a tall man in what looked like a Tux showed up asking what we would have. “A stiff rum and coke for the lady, and two Becks for me,” which prompted weird looks from him and my wife. I took down the first beer in two swigs, as he stood just watching. He was rather stuffy type, just looking at us as if we didn’t belong in such a nice hotel.

Somehow we got on the subject of a motorcycle travel trick while at the bar. When you travel on a bike, you’re extremely limited for space. The trick is to take all the old socks and draws you ready to throw away, and throw them away as you go. It leaves you room for souvenirs you may pick up along the way, or put less in carry on in this case. Anyhow, Cindy said something about some poor slob seeing the bad of dirty undergarments, and opening it in curiosity. We began to laugh, and I passed a comment, and the laughing became uncontrollable giggling with tears flowing, snorting, choking…. You get the picture. When I realized the bartender was standing there, I had to walk away to gain my composure. The bartender started to laugh, and from that point on he was very cool, and loose around us. After my third beer, we headed to the room to get ready for dinner. Wanting to make it an early night, we got down to the restaurant before it opened. We had on our “Sunday go to meeting” cloths, and caught the bartender of guard, to the point he commented on how we looked ready for a romantic night. While waiting, he brought us a bunch of finger food, and treated us like kings till we were seated in the restaurant. As with the entire trip, my greatest craving was icy cold drinks. As we sat there, a large group attending some sort of conference filed into a large banquette room. I see the wait staff rolling a cart in covered with…. yup…. pitchers of ICE WATER. I was stammering, trying to get the words out, and pointed to the cart. Cindy saw what had me in a meltdown, and burst out laughing. We now were in the middle of this lovely dining room, giggling like blithering idiots. Once calm again, we savored out final meal in Italy, had an early night cap, and called it a night.

I won’t go into any of the details of traveling home except to say the Munich Airport is amazing, though they don’t find it funny when you ask if it was good for them, after being patted down by security. The trip was a great success overall, though Cindy just informed when we do return to Italy, she will not go south. I’m sure in time I can change her mind about that. I didn’t get to do some of my planned activities, but no regrets. I didn’t get the photos I was in search of, but no regrets. It was a dream vacation I waited a long time for, it came off with few problems, so it’s hard to be unhappy. When we got home, Cindy’s foot was still hurting, and I checked it out and told her she had a stress fracture. Of course, she wouldn’t believe me, and hobbled around until about a week ago. She got checked out, and wouldn’t ya know, she has a fracture. She’s in a boot for about 5 more weeks, which translates to Pete having to cook every night until she can stand over the stove.

So, that it for now. It’s rainy season here in Florida, so I’m doing little riding. The vintage festival is in early October, so I’ll be quiet for a while .
Cheers ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/106-long-road-home.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/105-last-adventurous-day.html Tue, 03 Aug 2010 00:33:16 GMT was to be spent in the commune of Buonvicino in the mountains north of Carolei. We got a nice early start out of Amantea with about 70 km to cover... was to be spent in the commune of Buonvicino in the mountains north of Carolei. We got a nice early start out of Amantea with about 70 km to cover before even pulling off the main road and heading up into the mountains. Once again, we found ourselves on paved goat paths no wider then a car at times as we wound our way up to a town so unknown you can find little info about. I had all the info I needed, a large number of families with the last name Felice lived there. We had noticed the day before a few small shrines to the Madonna along the twisty mountain roads. I’ve been told that you stop to pray you make it to the next shrine along the way till you finally get to your destination. We didn’t see a single on as we drove, so I figured we were really screwed. Cindy, a nervous wreck as normal grinned and bared it till we finally hit the town square. For a very remote sort of place, we were quite impressed by how beautifully kept the town was in comparison to Carolei. We spotted signs directing to the castle / monument site, and the church, amongst other things. We opted for the monument site to start, and as we strolled upward, the breeze hit me in the face with a smell I’ve known all my life. Sunday mornings, our house would fill with the smell of the fresh gravy being made. I say gravy, but you all know it as “tomato sauce.” It’s an age old dispute between the sauce people, and the gravy people. None the less, the smell was calling my name. It was spot on, and though my moms people were from much farther north, she made here gravy the way dads family did, Calabrase. Even the night before, I had a dish called “chefs surprise” which had chunks of meatball in it, and they were exactly what I grew up with.

Fighting back the urge to knock on a strangers door for a taste, we continued on through the walkways leading up. As with Carolei, there were tunnel like alleys branching off the main walk, and though I wanted to, I refrained from venturing into them, not wanting to walk into a courtyard disturbing the residents. Finally reaching the monument, the views were spectacular. If not for the mistiness of clouds being shredded on mountain tops, you can see the ocean from there. While it’s a long ride up, in a straight line, the seaside city of Diamante in just a few miles. It was about noon, and the place was quiet as a crypt. Making our way back down towards the square, there was a group of well dressed people gathered in a small plaza in front of the church. I wanted to take a peek at the church knowing it would surely be open, so we headed up. The group stared at us as though we were from another world. Being Americans, I guess we actually were, but I still wanted my look at the church. With Cindy in shorts and a tank top, she wouldn’t be able to enter, so I strolled towards the doors. Looking in, I saw there was still quite a few people inside, so I turned back. I don’t know why… I mean, I’m a practicing catholic and should be welcome in any church. The smell of the gravy hit me again, and I needed to get something to eat. There was a place right across the plaza with a big sign, “BAR RESTAURANTE PIZZERIA.” We headed over and as we entered the four people there went silent. That didn’t faze me, and I said good afternoon we would like some pizza… in Italian. We got a quick, sharp, NO PIZZA in reply, and silence. I looked to Cindy and asked her if she wanted a drink, and she quietly said no, let’s go. We walked out, and past the now larger crowd no by the church. I was kind of put off at that point. Unfriendly people, and no friggin pizza.

Down by the main plaza, we stood talking about what to do next. We had decided in the morning that we would not kill the entire day there, giving us time to lounge on the beach a bit at our hotel as it was out last day. It was along ride back, and we were going to head for the car as the crowd started past. I didn’t want to walk through them, so we just relaxed in the shade as they passed. Out of nowhere, a man about my age walked directly towards me. As he got closer, he smiled, and extended his hand. He didn’t say a word as I took his hand and bid him a good afternoon, and said we were Americans. Not a word….. I’m kind of dumbfounded now, so with hand gestures I point to my eye, and then do a circular motion and said family Buonvicino, and then made a not knowing hand and facial gesture. He smiled and nodded, bid us a good afternoon, turned and walked away. Yes Meteor, I screwed the pooch a second time, never giving my name. Kicking myself in the ass as I walked to the car, once again, I could have been talking to a distant relative, and in that town the chances were far greater. I was quite depressed, and but one thing could cheer me up, a nice hot piece of pizza. Cindy was hungry too, so I told her if she saw a place that she wanted to try, give me some warning. After a bit of time back on the main road, we pulled off into the parking area of a big pizzeria. The waiter spoke a bit of English, and promptly seated us. Within minutes, we had out drinks, and were ready to place out order. Go figure, the waiter that serviced that area spoke no English at all. No biggie, I can point to the size and style of pizza we wanted. “No pizza,” is what was heard in disbelief. Did I miss something…. The sign on the building said pizzeria. What in Gods name does a guy gotta do to get a friggin slice of pizza in Italy.

Things went down hill from there, as it took 40 minutes for us to get our appetizer, and another 25 for our food. Had I not called over the guy who seated us, requested our check for the entire order so I could just pay and leave, I might still be sitting there. For what it’s worth, the food was excellent, but we didn’t dwell there, and headed out as quickly as we could. On arrival at out hotel I find out that we can’t use the pool unless we have……. Wait for it…… bathing caps, so we changed up, and hit the beach. Ya wanna talk about sticking out like a sore thumb. Cindy being the only women in a one piece bathing suit, me not being in a speedo drew quite a few looks. Then I took my shirt off, and scared the living hell out of everybody within eye shot. My mom’s maiden name is Peluso, and I’m told it means hairy. I was happy a game warden didn’t come looking for the swimming chimpanzee. The water is actually blue… how… why… I haven’t a clue, but it’s just so amazingly clear and blue. With the bottom being pure rock, Cindy was having problems with her ankle, so we didn’t stay in all that long. After a nice little nap in a lounge chair, we headed back to get ready for dinner. It was our last night before heading back to Naples, and we went out in style with a grand meal, more wine then anybody should drink, and actually some good company. We actually me a women who spoke English. She was born near there, but grew up in Canada, and spoke for quite some time. She even had relatives that had my last name, go figure. Closing the bar once again, it was time to pack, and call it a night. ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/105-last-adventurous-day.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/104-where-all-began.html Tue, 27 Jul 2010 00:15:01 GMT was our next stop. We hit the bar at the hotel for a primer while waiting for the restaurant to open. The Barmaid understood “rum and Coke” well... was our next stop. We hit the bar at the hotel for a primer while waiting for the restaurant to open. The Barmaid understood “rum and Coke” well enough, but margarita almost got me a pizza. She was great, and got out the ol bartenders guide, and mixed me a fine drink. The sun was getting low in the sky as we were seated at a table right in front of one of the large sliding doors. If you wanted a romantic setting, you couldn’t have gotten any better. Even though this was kind of a second honeymoon, romance wasn’t on my mind, just food and drink. Finally, a taste of Calabrase cuisine, something I've gotten little of since I was a kid. We discussed our plans for the next day while we dined, and as always killed more than a liter of red wine. It was amazing how much wine we were drinking every night, and I was always good for a double shot of sanbuca with my espresso. We hit the bar again after dinner for a nightcap, and wound up closing the place. It closed a bit earlier then we’re use to, but tomorrow was going to be a long day as we were heading up into the mountains, and the town of Carolei. With all the batteries on charge, the GPS programmed, I settled in to watch vintage Star Trek… in Italian. It was my best bet, knowing so many episodes by heart. Now, I haven’t a clue what time it actually was, but was woken by the sound of power tools…. hammering, and more of the power tools. After about five minutes, I got out of bed, and walked out our door to find the manager with a drill in hand. Ya just gotta love electronic door mechanisms when they quit. He was all apologies, as I fell back into my room, and the noise soon stopped.

We were in no rush, and headed out after a nice breakfast. Cindy knew this meant a lot to me, and could tell I was excited. So excited, twenty minutes into the ride I realized we didn’t have much fuel in the tank. Not knowing where and when we would see a filling station, I turned back to find one closer to the hotel. Finally back on track, it was soon time for Cindy to once again be hanging on for dear life. The elevation change from sea level to 630 meters had us driving through cloud banks at times, coming out into the sun as you got higher. My mapping prior to the trip was spot on, and Carolei was actually a little over an hour drive. Once we were getting closer, I was surprised to find the terrain to be much less extreme. As with much of what we had seen, Carolei was a mix of very old and newer buildings. The main street through the town was dotted with a few businesses, and we found a parking spot on a side street just off the center of town. As I expected, we stuck out like a sore thumb, but people waved to us as we walked around. My goal of capturing the essence of the southern Italian people went down the tubes quickly as there were few people out and about. Not a single subject worth shooting. We walked around for quite a while, and the heat was overwhelming as we headed back to the main street. I was surprised when walking into a store to get some water how put off the merchant was by our presence, as other shop keepers made a point to say hello, or waved as we passed. We found a spot in the shade, and just sat for a time enjoying the day.

Heading back to the car, we decided to stop for a lemon ice in a bar right near the car. Bars seem to be a bit of everything. Food, drink, ice cream, candy, you name it. As we were about to leave, Cindy headed to the ladies room, and that’s when the man behind the counter addressed me. Again, instantly telling him I didn’t understand Italian, he continued on with a word of English here and there. We were able to come up with me being from the Bronx NY, and him having either friends or family in the Bronx and Long Island. He continued on, but speaking quickly and my lack of Italian understanding, I was lost. I shook my head, and made a hand gesture, and he smiled and shook his head. Cindy came out, and we said our goodbye’s. Seven or eight miles out of Carolei, my brain caught up with the situation back at the bar. As I drove, I realized I never gave him my name…. DOH ! My family being from the Bronx, and Long Island, I made a mistake of epic proportions, as we actually could have been related. I instantly thought of turning back, but the lack of being able to speak with him made me realize is was futile. The entire ride back I kicked myself for not spending time learning more Italian before the trip. Everything was moving so fast prior to the trip, I just didn’t have the time to devote to something of that type. This is something I will be doing in the near future, as I know I will return to Italy some day. I figure I’ll try that stoner lady that everybody uses to learn foreign languages. The ride back was very nice, as we made a wrong turn somewhere, and drove through San Pietro. It was all decked out from the celebration of ST Peter and Paul that had just passed. Before I knew it, the day was done, and we were back at the hotel, and ready for a grand meal. ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/104-where-all-began.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/103-crossing-line.html Sun, 25 Jul 2010 00:50:35 GMT which seems to be traveling south of Naples was next on the agenda. I know people that have been to Italy many times, and never once south of Naples.... which seems to be traveling south of Naples was next on the agenda. I know people that have been to Italy many times, and never once south of Naples. Sure, I know people that have been to Sicily, but that's not Italy…. It’s Sicily. With the car loaded up, we said our farewells to our gracious host at Hotel Il Nido, and off we went. Heading further up into the hills, we snaked our way over the top, and down onto the well known Amalfi drive. I’ve dreamed of driving this road for as long as I’ve known of it. Of course, the dreams always had me riding a more then competent bike, or sports car. Nothing exotic mind you, but something better than a Citron C2. It had a feature just like the 2010 Indy cars, a push to pass button. When I’d hit an average grade, and the car just wouldn’t pull the hill, I would depress the little button marked “AC”, giving the car that all important 3 HP more. Now, I could have squeezed more out of it, as I’m good at getting the most out of any vehicle, but my copilot was not enjoying the ride. The road is a zoo on the weekends, but traveling it during the week, there was little traffic, and a pleasure to drive. One of the most beautiful settings, driving on the edge of the cliffs, with the med to the right, passing through the towns of Positano, Amalfi and a dozen other places, the dream had come true. You would come across the occasional fruit stand, restaurant, or hotel from time to time, and was so enjoyable for me to finally do. At one point I said to Cindy how beautiful the view was and got a stressful, “yes it is, but I’m not enjoying this, I’m scared to death.” Uh oh….. mama’s not happy, and that’s not good. We couldn’t hit the Salerno area where we were off the cliffs soon enough for her. We were about halfway to our lunch stop, a restaurant in the town of Paestum.

This stop was real important to me having missed out on Pompeii, and we headed into the restaurants outdoor pavilion. I have to say, the restaurant was quite nice, but the wait staff had an attitude that caught me off guard. They asked if we wanted wine, and I declined, and asked for a coke. The waiter actually got snooty, and had I not been with my wife, this 20 something kid would have gotten an earful. Thank God the food was wonderful, as was the entertainment. Four poorly dressed Americans strolled in that were very loud. Coming from yours truly, that’s saying something. Listening to this big dude trying to talk to the waiter who spoke little English was too amusing, proclaiming his mother was back at some hotel, and wanted a sandwich. This wasn’t the type of place you would stroll into looking for take out, and he kept going on and on that his mother wanted a sandwich. “Mama mea is hungry,”….. “sandwich”…… This went on for almost 10 minutes, as we finished our food, and paid the bill. Now it was time for some real fun, the ruins at Paestum. Cindy’s ankle was still hurting quite a bit, so she told me to just go off and enjoy myself while she slowly wandered. Off I went, camera in hand, but knew time was short, as the weather looked like we were going to get rained on. What made it so enjoyable for me is, only the temples re roped off for safety reasons, and so few people around. I found myself in the amphitheater, and just sat and pondered for a few minutes what I may have been like in the 5th century BC. I can easily understand why people would chose to settle there, being on a rich coastal plain less than a mile from the shoreline, and a favorable climate.

With distant thunder, and not knowing what the road ahead held for us I cut my time short, never making it to the third temple or "north wall." Catching up with Cindy, and on the road again with Daniel leading the way, the road was much less exciting, but the scenery was outstanding. With a hundred + miles as the crow flies, we still had a few hours of driving. Many beautiful places along the way, and it seemed every time I looked up there was a ruin or castle atop a mountain. Every town had it’s little piece of ancient history, or a monument and a patron saint. While it may sound like a waste of a day, being out on the road is pure pleasure for me. Unlike the city chaos, the open Italian road was much more enjoyable then any I’ve driven in the states. While they are impatient, there’s a discipline that you don’t find here. Everybody drives right, and passes on the left. A simple principle that works well to keep things moving, yet people here just can’t bring themselves to do it. I guess that would be infringing on their freedom.:annoyed: As we neared Amantea, I was a bit uptight as there was a rail line between the road and the beach. While the place we were to stay has an address, it’s a mile marker, and had me a bit concerned as some have said the place was very hard to find. I guess those people couldn’t count, and were blind as a bat. The mile marker was spot on, but turning into the access road, I got a bit nervous as I passed under the railroad bridge in a less then attractive area. Then we spotted the entrance to Trevi Village to the right, and it was like finding an oasis, lush and welcoming. ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/103-crossing-line.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/102-morning-after.html Mon, 19 Jul 2010 21:51:41 GMT we woke a bit late. After what Cindy went through the day before, I wasn’t going to push any issue of itinerary. She knew what the plans had been for... we woke a bit late. After what Cindy went through the day before, I wasn’t going to push any issue of itinerary. She knew what the plans had been for the day, but didn’t bring them up. I instead asked her what she was up for. I thought we were going to the ruins and Naples she said, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go to a place I knew there would be lots of walking on less then good footing at times. I had intended to take the train to Pompeii, and then to Naples, so when she said lets head to the pier, I knew we were good to go with just Naples. Poor planning on our part left us waiting an hour and a half for the next boat over, so we hit the port of Naples at around lunch time. The lack of planning also left us with no clue what to see, but I spotted a tour bus and figured that might be the best thing to see the city, and keep her off her feet. We hopped on, and instead of starting the tour, it took us to their main location. Thirty five minutes later, we were finally on our way. The tour buses have three routs, and we wound up on the panoramic tour. It was a hop on hop off deal, but we honestly didn’t find any of the locations appealing. Most would drop you off in a location where you would have to walk a ways to get to the scenic location. The tour was a bit over an hour and a half round trip. The historic and Museum routs wouldn’t be starting for quite some time, so we strolled up the street to catch a bite to eat. The young guy hawking out front was so amusing, we figured it was as good a place as any to eat. The Panini and slice of pizza were very good, but the not so cold coke just didn’t do it. Even after we were done with lunch, it would still be almost another hour and a half before the next tour started, so we said to hell with it, and headed over to Castle Nuvo for a quick look, and then back to the pier. Of course, the next boat back to Sorrento wouldn’t be for over an hour. We found a bench in the shade of the Castle, and just sat and marveled at the scooter pilots zipping around the slower moving cars and trucks. Riding three up was pretty common, and I actually saw one scooter with four people on it. Two toddlers in between the legs of the pilot, with an older kid on the back. It’s amazing to see people with some very large cargo loads on scooters. On cat had enough stuff between his knees to fill the cargo compartment on our FJ Cruiser, and his passenger had what looked like about a 40 inch flat screen TV in his arms. Soon enough, we were back at the pier as our boat was coming in, with much difficulty to say the least. It was like the move Airplane….. pier 8…. pier 9…. Pier 10, as the wind had picked up and the pilot had his hands full.

Before leaving that morning, we were told of a bus that runs up and down to the pier from the main square for one euro per person, so Cindy didn’t have to deal with the road and stairs up this time round. I guess that’s why we have the expression, “ live and learn.” We opted to eat in town again, and Cindy said what ever looked good to me. Hell, I had such a great meal the night before, I suggested the same place, La Lanterna. As we were walking up to the outdoor tables, the manager quickly came over and greeted us. Aaaa, Pepe’s friends, good evening, and please sit where ever you would like. We opted for outside, and Pepe came out to get us started, then passed us off to another waiter who’s area we were in. Tonight we had manager, and about four other people catering to us, and once again it was a wonderful experience. Being it was early enough, we casually strolled around the main drag a little before heading for the shuttle bus. It was the perfect ending to a lost day. It’s hard for me to form a fair opinion of Naples. Like any city, I know it has it’s shining spots within itself, but we never got to see them. That was on our heads for reasons stated. While we saw some beautiful spots, the neighborhoods we were in at times weren’t places I would walk around. What we saw made lower Manhattan seem open and airy, and the south Bronx clean and tidy. ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/102-morning-after.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/henry/101-go-speed-go.html Mon, 19 Jul 2010 20:22:51 GMT Last week my official training began. Oh, I’ve been running for a while now, but that was just building up the base so my legs wouldn’t fall off when... Last week my official training began. Oh, I’ve been running for a while now, but that was just building up the base so my legs wouldn’t fall off when I really started training. Last Monday I started running intervals to increase my turnover, which should, in theory, help me run faster. On Thursday my long run went up to seven miles. This week it goes up to nine.

And I have to say so far it’s all going swimmingly. If only the temperature would go down a little. It’s been 95 degrees or so for the past three weeks and I haven’t been able to run outside at all. My last attempt was about a month ago. I had planned a nice seven mile jaunt around Lake Braddock, a picturesque little lake 2 miles from my house with a nice flat, and oftentimes shady 1.5 mile trail surrounding it. I figured I run out there, do a few laps and run back. Trouble was that when I got to the non-shady parts of the trail I almost collapsed from heat exhaustion. I only made it 6.5 miles before I had to hang my head in shame and call my wife to come pick me up and drive me the rest of the way home. The entire following week my legs ached and my knees hurt and I decided I was never running in such awful heat conditions ever again.

So I’ve been confined to my treadmill for pretty much the entire month of July. With my little TV/DVD player as my companion I have taken to watching movies during my workouts. During my long runs I can get through an entire movie, and the challenge lately has been to find a movie that keeps me from thinking too much about the monotony of The Mill. Over the past few weeks I’ve battled Romulans from the future with young Spock and Kirk, chased Nazis through the desert in my Fedora and battled terrorists in my red and gold battle suit. But I have to admit, the very best movie to watch while running isn’t Star Trek or Raiders of the Lost Ark or Iron Man. It’s a movie I hadn’t really thought of at first, but really, really does the job.

Speed Racer. (A warning for anyone who cares. There be spoilers ahead.)

As movies go I realize it’s not Academy Award winning material. But man, there’s something about cartoony fast cars smashing into each other that really makes you want to run. You start at Thunderhead, making your mark as one of the world’s up-and-coming racers, and then it’s on to Fuji where you meet Racer X, the Harbinger of Boom and if you’re still on your feet after that you charge through the Casa Cristo 5000, taking on headhunters and racing your way through two times zones and three climate changes.

You also get to use the spinning blades, which is always cool.

And then, about 5-6 miles into the run, Speed is having his perfectly timed crisis of conscience. And that’s when Racer X tells us ‘Everyone has to find a reason to do this. You don’t climb into a T-180 to be a driver. You do it because your driven.’

But the part of the movie that really gets you through a run is the final race. The Grand Prix. A million dollars to the driver that takes out Speed Racer. No one wants you to finish, they will all try and stop you, but there is nothing anyone can do to keep you from crossing that finish line. You are in the zone. It all gets really Zen. Nothing else matters. It’s just you and the road and you will not be denied. And when the bad guy screams “somebody stop him!” you crack a smile, because you know you got the beast on it’s heels, and you will finish your run.

Start to finish, Speed Racer really is a great movie to run with. Well, either that or it could be that when I was a kid it was my favorite TV show.

Nah, it couldn’t be that. ]]> Henry http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/henry/101-go-speed-go.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/100-people-plan-god-laughs.html Sun, 18 Jul 2010 18:48:29 GMT The last time I was on the water was a few years back, cursing up the Potomac to Georgetown, and I had forgotten how enjoyable it is. The ride to... The last time I was on the water was a few years back, cursing up the Potomac to Georgetown, and I had forgotten how enjoyable it is. The ride to Capri was quick, and we were walking around Marina Grande with no plan what so ever. I saw a tour booth, and spoke with the young man for a few before saying what the hell and getting tickets for a two hour water tour of the island. Getting an early start paid off as the boat was only about half full, and the pilot had zero resemblance to Gilligan. Our first stop was the Blue Grotto, and were able to get onto the small row boats and do the quick trip in and out. I saw people were a bit wet on return, so I opted to leave the still camera on the boat. I did bring my tiny video camera I use on the bike to record rides. I was going for broke, not knowing how it would do in very low light. The grotto is amazing….. little more I can say. The trip around the rest of the island was grand. No better way to spend a warm summer morning, more so if you can appreciate the rugged beauty of the exterior of the island. Many might view it as just rocks, rocks, and more rocks with the occasional cove thrown in here and there. While I loved the boat tour, I couldn’t wait to get on land to start shooting in town. Down around the marina there’s the normal shops you would expect, and it was time to head up to Capri Town. We had a map that showed a walkway up to the town, and off we went. Now, I’ve done some dumb stuff in my time, but whatever compelled an out of shape, overweight smoker to hike up 300 some odd feet in elevation on a day the temps were around 92 is beyond my reasoning even now.

I must have lost about 6 pounds, and had to stop more than a few times before we made it to the top. Capri town is about as touristy as it comes, with lots of high end designer shops. While that’s not our type of gig, it was just the first stop on the way to the top of the island. After a few minutes to relax, it was time for something to eat. Cindy informed me she wanted to hit the ladies room first, so we walked back to the path where we saw a public toilet, and that when it happened. Cindy miss stepped on the sloped walkway, and took a big spill. I was on the ground propping her up within seconds, and a crowd quickly formed. An elderly man came to our assistance, and was speaking quickly. Amazing enough, somewhere deeply hidden in my brain was more understanding of Italian then I thought, realized he was offering to get us Ice, and I acknowledged quickly. Her left knee was scrapped up pretty badly, and her right foot was turning colors, and swelling before our eyes. Nothing broken from what I could tell, and the man returned quickly with a big bag of ice. Back on her feet, she made her pit stop, and I helped her up to the town square, and in into a restaurant. Foot elevated and iced, we had a nice lunch and a beer. It was only noon, and we had planned on walking around the island very late into the day. My thoughts were only with Cindy’s welfare, and I figured on taking the tram down to the marina, and heading back to our hotel where she could get off her feet for an extended period. I brought it up, but she would have none of it. Beaten and bruised, she limped her way over to the pharmacy, which wouldn’t reopen till 2 PM we came to find, so we got the bus to Anacapri.

Anacapri is what it’s all about. Less the tourist trap, and far more quaint. Though Cindy said she was up what ever I wanted to do, I limited our travels as much as I could. We spent the rest of the day slowly strolling around town, stopping often. The pharmacy there didn’t reopen till 4 PM, so still no chance of getting an ace bandage to wrap her ankle. All in all, the day was still pleasant for us, but I pulled the plug earlier then planned. Never did make it up to the top of the mountain, but we’ll surely visit Capri again. We caught the bus down to Capri town, and finally got an ace for Cindy. Another bus, and we were back at the marina. We found a little area to sit so I could properly wrap her ankle. An old timer was giving me instructions in Italian on how to rap her. I told him in Italian I didn’t understand him, but he kept on talking. Again, to my amazement I understood more then I expected, as he was telling me to wrap in an X pattern. When she showed them her knee, they were talking about how to treat it. In English and Italian, I told them how my aunt on the farm would wipe a wound down with a gasoline soaked rag, and send you back out to play. The group got a great laugh over that, and we said our farewells as we headed to the dock to catch our boat back to Sorrento. In the back of my head, all I could think about was we weren’t going to be able to go on with our plans for our last day in the area, walking around the ruins at Herculaneum, and then Naples. People plan, and God laughs as my mother would say, but that was the least of my problems at the moment. We still had the long walk to the meeting place to catch our shuttle bus. There wasn’t a cab to be found, and just a few city busses around. Cindy insisted she could do the walk up the hill road, and 100 some odd steps to the main drag. Taking some time, we made it to the top and took a long needed rest. We concurred that we would never make it back to the hotel with enough time to shower before the restaurant would be closed, so we opted to eat in old Sorrento. I have to say, Cindy Is a real trooper. I know guys that would have folded hours before.

While stopping to light a smoke, I noticed a menu stand next to me. I stopped Cindy, and took a look. I knew what I was gonna be eating, and told her to see if anything jumped out at her. She agreed, and we walked around the corner into a little piece of heaven, La Lanterna. While we would normally sit outside, we were both pretty exhausted, and opted for the air conditioned dining room. Quickly seated, our waiter Pepe started to pamper us. Having worked on cruise ships, his English was great. Talking briefly, and learning I have ties to the area, it was like being family. He bent over backwards to make our stay beyond what any patron could expect. The food was esqusit, including the two huge BB-Q’d squid I had as a main course. He threw us a few free bees through the course of the meal, right down to shots of Lemonchello before we parted. Even though most places have a service charge, and 10% is customary to tip, we mad his effort well worth it with a very large tip. It was time to make the last ¾ of a mile walk back to the meeting place. Thankfully, our timing was good, and didn’t have to wait long for the shuttle. On arrival at the hotel, Dino greeted us and instantly realized Cindy was hurt. I asked him for some ice, which he quickly got. I never knew, but ice isn’t something you tend to not see in Italy, so I had two reasons for wanting it. Icing the ankle was top priority, but an icy cold coke would also hit the spot, as I had already grown tired of not so cold drinks. A shower and a bed were never so welcome as our day on the Isle of Capri became a memory. ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/100-people-plan-god-laughs.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/99-photos-do-no-justice.html Sun, 18 Jul 2010 15:51:24 GMT To the beauty of the peninsula Sorrento rest upon once you see it first hand. After making it through the main part of town, we snaked our way up the... To the beauty of the peninsula Sorrento rest upon once you see it first hand. After making it through the main part of town, we snaked our way up the hills to our hotel. Our host Dino had us checked in quickly, and were in our room that gave an amazing view of the Gulf of Naples. We were played, and wanted but three things… showers, food, and sleep. Because of delays in flights, and taking far longer to drive down to the hotel then expected, it was late by the time we were squared away, and hitting the hotel restaurant. The place was first class all the way, starting us with some champagne and finger food as we got to see our first Italian sunset. With our meals ordered, a liter of local red wine on the way, we were finally able to relax in these amazing surroundings, with the faint smell of the lemon groves lofting on the breeze. Being a small family run hotel, I expected a fine meal. We weren’t disappointed in any way, as we were never rushed through any of the outstanding fare before us. After the long trip over, this was about as perfect as it could get. Tomorrow we would be heading into Sorrento for the day to just stroll around, and a solid night of sleep was I order.

Waking a little late, we made our way up to the restaurant for their breakfast. They had a bit more then the typical Italian breakfast, as they had bacon and scrambled eggs to go along with the meats, cheeses, and pastries. It took me a little time to realize that the haze in the air was actually smoke. I’d venture a guess that there’s more wood fired cooking then gas or electric in that area. You could see little plumes of smoke rising from the trees everywhere. The shuttle bus had us in town quickly, and we were off into the maze of tiny streets filled with shops of all sorts. At mid morning the town was a buzz, but not to the point of being annoyingly over crowded. While I was looking in a church, somebody speaking English drew Cindy into a shop. I turned the corner into a wood craft shop. Sorrento is known for their fine wood inlay work, and while Cindy was shown around the shop, I was introduced to the “mystro,” a man in his 70’s I would guess. His friend spoke some English, and we were able to chat for some time. When they saw me use my teeth to tare open a foil packet of chewing gum, I was asked if I had family from the area. They were very pleased to hear that my mothers people ware Neapolitan. It was like being one of the local crew at that point. While I knew what to expect, I mentioned my fathers people were Calabrase. They instantly started to laugh, and passed the normal comments about the “thick headed” southern people of Calabria, but in a friendly joking way. The mans work was amazing. Having done some inlay back in the day, the time and skill involved is mind boggling. We spent most of the day just wandering the old section of town, and taking in the views of the waterfront. While our busy schedule never allowed us to take real advantage of it, the town closed the main street to traffic every night at seven o’clock so people could enjoy an evening walk about town. I could easily spend a week just hanging around Sorrento. It was quite easy to get along there being a popular tourist destination, and having a hotel just out of the main part of town was perfect. When I return, and I will some day, I’ll be sure to stay at the same place, Il Nido Sorrento Hotel.

We caught our shuttle back to the hotel, and relaxed for a bit on the terrace before getting ready for dinner. We discussed the day, and our plans for tomorrow, the Isle of Capri. Neophyte put a bug in my head before leaving for the trip, and I did not shoot nearly as many pics as I originally planned. I instead spent more time enjoying my company and surroundings. It was a dam good trade off to be honest. That being said, I still took over 1200 photos, and was having equipment problems to boot. As dinner wound down, the last group besides us cleared out, leaving a lone elderly gent sitting by himself. I invited him to sit with us while we finished up our drinks. Go figure, the little Irish professor was a motorcyclist, and it didn’t bother Cindy that we sat talking bikes for quite some time. Very interesting cat, and all three of us talked about dam near everything you could think of well past the restaurant closing time. The beauty of it all was, the staff never hovered over, or looked to rush us. I’m sure they would have stood fast till sunrise had we continued to drink and talk. Calling it quits at nearly 1 am, we hit the room, and Cindy was out cold within minutes. I did a check of my gear for the next day, and quickly crashed. Up with the sun, and breakfast a memory, we made our way down to the pier. We had marveled at the gorge of sorts with the road leading down the day before. Most of the town is sitting a few hundred feet above the water, and the walk down was enjoyable. With our tickets in hand, we boarder the boat to Capri with Sorrento as the backdrop, ready for our next adventure. ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/99-photos-do-no-justice.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/98-what-long-strange-trip-s-been.html Sun, 18 Jul 2010 01:54:54 GMT It’s been a hectic week and a half since our return, and my head is still spinning. Leaving my dog at a kennel is always hard for me, and it was on... It’s been a hectic week and a half since our return, and my head is still spinning. Leaving my dog at a kennel is always hard for me, and it was on my mind the entire flight from Fl to Philly. Once we boarded the flight for Brussels, the live entertainment began, and all my worries were gone. In the cheap seats, one row behind the emergency exit, a tall thin man arrives late, so they seat him in front of us so they could push back, and get it in the air. The moment we were told it was cool to move about the cabin, he heads into the can. 20 minutes later he emerged lookin a little… less then well. No more than five minutes passed when he headed back for round two. OK, so it appeared he wasn’t feelin well until he returned to his seat about 15 minutes later, stinking of booze. On his third trip, the guy sitting next to him alerted a cabin steward. The crew posted a guard outside the head, and when he emerged and sat, was confronted. He was made to move to his assigned seat for safety reasons, but continued his trips to the can into the wee hours of the night. I haven’t a clue how he was able to get past security checks with booze, but I do know people that fill their little shampoo bottles with booze for their flights. None the less, he was entertaining as he staggered up and down the isle.

After an average meal, and three little bottles of red wine, I settled in for the rest of the flight. With the ear buds in, and amazing clouds below us, mountain of the moon by the Dead seemed to be the perfect selection as the sun set. Short of being heavily sedated, I just can’t sleep on a plane. Music was my salvation of sorts, and the empty seat between me and Cindy didn’t hurt. It’s amazing, with no planned play list or concept of time, waiting for the sun was playing as we flew into the sunrise. Not long after, we were landing in Brussels…. We had arrived ! The excitement turned to aggravation quickly, as we couldn’t find our way around and no info booths anywhere to be found. After about a half hour, we figured it out, found the ticket counters to check in for our next flight, and promptly bolted outside to catch the long awaited smoke. Cindy has a habit of not believing me when it comes to some things, such as leaving the airport to catch breakfast in Brussels. The man at the ticket counter informed us that we would be foolish not to go into the city, and off we headed for the train to Brussels center. The Grand Place was all a buzz being Belgium was getting the presidency of the EU that weekend, and were setting up bleachers all over the square. We walked around a bit, grabbed a bite to eat. It was a great way to kill a long layover, but it was time to fly, so back to the airport we went…. Next stop, Naples!

Now, I may not be the brightest light in the string, but when the steward tells you to remove your seat belt because they are taking on extra fuel, I have to wonder. It’s amazing what goes through the mind of a person who hasn’t slept in over twenty hours. Twenty minutes of sweltering heat, and finally, we were airborne. The little commuter type jet never really did cool off, and thankfully the fight from Brussels to Naples is quick enough. The excitement was building as we made our final approach. I was caught off guard a little by having to walk down the old school stairs to the tarmac, and hop on a shuttle bus to the terminal. No biggie, just expected the normal “jet way” directly into the building. Grabbed the luggage, and headed up to the rental counter. On the flight over, I had Cindy go over my maps and directions, and while I was dealing with the rental agent, I asked her if she wanted a GPS after all. A quick yes with a look of relief came my way, and we were ready to rip. A quick shuttle ride over to the rental yard, the luggage loaded, I hop in and look for the GPS. Not an in dash, and nothing to be found in the car. Digging through a file for the phone number of the rental agency, my cell phone rings……. Mister Felice… this is …….. I’m so sorry, but I forgot to give you the GPS, could you please come back to the counter to pick it up. And the adventure began……

A few well traveled people told me what to expect when it came to driving, but until you get behind the wheel in Naples, nothing except growing up there can prepare you for what’s to come. That half mile ride back to the airport was a learning experience I’ll never forget. Within seconds of reaching the first intersection, I had horns blowing, and cars darting around me on both sides. Mind and reflexes kicking into hyper drive, I picked my spot, and took off like a bat out of hell… well, not quite being we were driving a Citron C2. With Cindy hanging on for dear life, mumbling and grumbling, we made it to the airport, and she ran in to get the GPS. I knew we would have to program it, so I went right back to the rental lot where I knew I could sit still. Smart move, as Cindy found the GPS in Spanish, and hittin the reset put it into Italian. We settled on “Daniel” in Brit English, got our destination in Sorrento programmed, and we were off. Within a few minutes we were on the autostrata, and doing just fine. I was pretty much in my element, and enjoying the ride. Cindy was still pretty much in shock as we approached the toll booth. She pointed to one that had a person on duty, or so she thought. No biggie, as she hands me the proper amount of euros, I roll up, and drop them in the machine. Of course, it wouldn’t take them for some reason, so she quickly handed me paper money. On the fourth try, with a constant note of blaring horns behind me, the machine finally took the bill. Snatching up my change, I again moved out as fast as out wonderful car would allow, but before I knew it, we were getting off the autostrata, and Daniel being a slow talker, what we heard most often was…. “RECALCULATING,” as we missed turns a few times. Finally back on track, after driving through streets as wide as the average garage door, over door steps, and brushing one clothing display, the ride to Sorrento was enjoyable for me. Cindy was not enjoying herself. Even I was astounded a bit by how the scooters would split lanes, passing in the worst possible places. Hey, I’ve been on two wheel most of my life, and me and my guys ride hard. It would take me a few months to get use to the urban riding there. What we see as risks, they see as a place to pass. ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/98-what-long-strange-trip-s-been.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/97-time-make-official.html Sat, 12 Jun 2010 01:16:18 GMT So, we’re about 6 weeks out, and it’s time to book flights and a rental car. Pretty simple stuff excepting not a single car rental is open when we... So, we’re about 6 weeks out, and it’s time to book flights and a rental car. Pretty simple stuff excepting not a single car rental is open when we have to catch our return flight at 06:45. No biggie, I’ll just use the airport shuttle the hotel offers. Go figure, a huge Ramada with an international conference center, and they can’t get you to the airport the morning of check out. Do I take a chance on hailing a taxi at five in the morning, or do I set up a car service. Private transfer from the hotel to the airport was actually a great deal, 23 Euros for the two of us. Of course, from bouncing around with planning, I submitted the wrong date, and it actually took over a week to get it straightened out. It was official, flights, car, and lodging all booked. The hard part is done, and I can breathe a sigh of relief to some degree.

The Hotel Il Nido will be our first stop. Keepin my fingers crossed it looks as good as the pics. From there we’ll do a day in Capri. Some say it’s really not worth it, but I’ve always been one to form my own opinions. With all my research on the places I figure on hitting, I still can’t narrow it down to booking an excursion, or just catching a hydrofoil over and winging it. I had wanted to do one of the private sail boats that do a tour around the island, but Cindy had a bout of mal debarquement syndrome and I don’t know how she’ll do on a boat. Of course, we’ll do a day of just kickin around Sorrento. Vesuvius has no real appeal to me, but Pompeii and Herculaneum do. While Pompeii is the larger of the sites, Herculaneum is far better preserved. I’d also like to do the tour of the Naples Underground. Again, to tour, or not to tour. The number of companies, and packages is mind boggling, but just can’t bring myself to commit to anything. One thing for sure, If I don’t make it to Herculaneum, I will surely make it to the catacombs. We should have more than enough to keep us busy for our three and a half days in Sorrento.

Then the trip really begins, as we’ll drive south to our next hotel. I planned a lunch stop at Paestum, Greco Roman ruins. Hey, ya gotta stop to eat. Cindy and I love fine food, so I fully expect to put on some weight. I’ve dropped some in anticipation of the trip, but think I’m screwed in the long run. From Paestum, we’ll continue to Trevi Village, in Amantea. I’m not actually going in search of long lost family. If I stumble upon some, all the better. Being Carolei and Buonvicino aren’t tourist stops by any means, I may split a day between the two. Buonvicino is very intriguing to me, more so then Carolei at times. It’s the one place I found my family name dating back quite far. The two communes are about 35 miles apart as the crow flys. I actually exchanged a couple of messages with a fella, Max, who grew up in Buonvicino, and said the name Felice is one of the more common names to this day. I know my grandfather came from Carolei, as I’ve been in contact with a woman that grew up there. She shares the same maiden name as my grandmother, Capraro. With all the little towns along the coast, and in the mountains, it’s too hard to pass on so much. We’re also playing this one by ear. The second part of the trip is all about seeing the real Italy, and learn a bit about where my family started out, and trust me, it will be well documented.

This is about as hard core of a photo safari as I can muster. I creates some challenges, as everything runs on rechargeable batteries. From everything I’ve found on the subject, electricity is very expensive, and outlets few and far between in most hotels in Europe. The simple solution is a power strip. I went as far as getting a European strip that has 6 universal outlets. The good part is, I don’t need a power converter for any of my goodies. All my chargers will work on 110 to 240, @ 50 to 60 Htz. Of course, Cindy has a camera that uses AA batteries, and her charger is 110 only, so I did get a converter. The problem with the power strip is, it won’t fit in my camera pack. The way my luck generally runs, my luggage will get lost, and I’ll be screwed with the power strip being in checked luggage, so I do have a single adapter in the camera pack just in case. I have 4 batteries to charge every night, and add in Cindy with her battery charger, and cell phone, so ya see, this is pretty important. Memory media is well covered too. I have 9GB for the still camera, and 32GB for the video. NO, I won’t be doing your average vacation video. Many of the routs I plan on taking are extremely twisty mountain roads. I’m using my rider cam from my bike. It will more then likely be strapped to the drivers mirror if I can’t make a suction cup mount for the windscreen in time to leave. There ‘s also what looks like a chair lift that takes you from Capri Town to Anacapri. I figure that may make a good video, as I have developed a fear of this type of transportation, and heights. The ol double whammy. The video will be more for my mom then myself, and figure I can get some real nice stuff if I’m not freaking out on the sky ride. She has long wanted to travel to Italy, and it doesn’t look like she’ll ever realize that dream…… Yes, I’ll take the normal “tourist” pics, but my thing is candid shots of people, and that’s my goal. Can I capture the essence of Southern Italy with the camera ?

Well, now that I have you riveted to your monitor, we’re up to the present day. I’ll be doing money exchange on Monday for each trip. This is the worst part, the waiting. I’ve done so much reading about places, about local customs, and about anything else you could possibly think of. June 27th can’t come soon enough, I’m ready to roll. No computer commin with us, so no posting on the road.

Arivadechi ! ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/97-time-make-official.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/henry/96-wonderful.html Wed, 09 Jun 2010 19:47:32 GMT So yesterday I was just finishing up a maintenance run. 30 minutes at an easy pace, which these days is about 12 minute miles. I usually run these on... So yesterday I was just finishing up a maintenance run. 30 minutes at an easy pace, which these days is about 12 minute miles. I usually run these on the treadmill because it’s easy on the legs, I can control the temperature and I’ve got this really cool setup with a 22” TV/DVD player to keep me company, but yesterday the weather was so nice I just couldn’t pass up running in it.

Anyway, about 25 minutes into my run, maybe two miles in, I run past this guy. He’s probably about ten years older than me, walking from his car to his house. He looks at me running in his direction, smiles and asks “how far you going?”

“How far am I going?” … Its that guy!

I am certain he didn’t recognize me but I immediately knew who he was. I wanted to say “Guy, it’s you! How you doing? I’m good! I’ve gotten a lot better at this running thing since the last time we talked. I worked myself up to three miles a run, and I’ve got this cool GPS thing and an iPod and new shoes and all sorts of cool running stuff now. I ran a sub-29 minute 5K last year, and then I hurt my ankle and broke my wrist but I’m ok now and … guess what? I’m going to run a marathon! I’m up to six miles on my long runs but I’ll be running a lot longer than that. My legs feel good and strong. No trouble with the knees at all! No sir, Mr. Guy, I don’t huff and puff my way through two mile runs anymore. This is just a recovery day. I run this distance in my sleep now. Wow. It’s great to see you again. Thanks for asking!”

Of course, I didn’t have time for that. The best I could do was blurt out what I hoped was a familiar “just two miles today.”

He paused for a moment and I ran past. Maybe he knew who I was but probably not.

“That’s wonderful,” I heard him say.

And I’ll be damned if I didn’t feel like running faster.

Again. ]]> Henry http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/henry/96-wonderful.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/95-jacki-said-pete-i-ve-got.html Mon, 07 Jun 2010 15:36:09 GMT Rib eye the size of your head waiting for you, mom just cut it special. We’re at Fabios’ fairly often for over 10 years now, and the night before... Rib eye the size of your head waiting for you, mom just cut it special. We’re at Fabios’ fairly often for over 10 years now, and the night before Easter was just a regular night out. I hadn’t been feeling great the past couple of days, but couldn’t turn down the special cut steak Viviana had waiting for me. It was shaping up to be a great night, they even had Pulpo salad on the special board. What a meal, though I only ate half of my steak it was so friggin huge. I started getting this weird pain in my jaw, the one I had mentioned to the doctor a week earlier which prompted him to set up yet another stress test. At a little before midnight, I woke Cindy, and asked her to drive my up to the hospital. I knew I wasn’t dying….… but also knew there was something wrong. Before I knew what hit me, I had an IV, heart monitor, nitro patch, the works. They said they were admitting me, and would have a room shortly. I insisted on Cindy going home around 2:00 am. We live 125 yards from the hospital, so it didn’t make sense for her to stay. I got my room at 4:18am, and fell right to sleep. “Mr Felice… Mr Felice…. I’m doctor”…… “4:30 Jesus H Christ!, have a heart man, I just got to sleep." "Wadda ya mean you are the attending, where’s my doctor from Sachs’s office"……

At 7:45 am, the food people made their assault on my room, bringing the worlds blandest chow. I don’t know if a goat could live on it, but knew Cindy would bring me something good to eat, and some real coffee. My doctor shows up to see what’s going on even though he wasn’t on call. They had a stress test scheduled for Monday, but weren’t taking a chance of releasing me even though everything was perfect. Cindy and Gabrielle showed up around noon with birthday greetings, and gifts. “No food or coffee?” Awhhhh hell. Cindy asked the nurse about some cake and real coffee for me, and a prompt “no” was heard. After we caught up on the latest news about the state final this coming weekend, I told them to go and enjoy their day. Made for a long day, and the visit from mom and my sister Izzy kind of broke it up. Ya know, my blood pressure was up just a touch the entire time they were there. Monday couldn’t come soon enough. The lab techs, and the cardiologist had a field day makin fun of how hairy I am, and all my shaved spots. They actually had to speed up the treadmill a few times I was doing so well with the tests. Around 5:00 pm Monday, the cardio guy came in, and signed my release. Wahoo, real food, and Cindy and Gab wouldn’t have to shuffle plans for the weekend trip. I was taking Tuesday off, and started having the pains again early in the morning. Back to the ER we go….

This time, my doctor and the cardio guy show up in my room. They are going to do a cardio catheter either later in the day, or the morning. Knowing how it goes with hospitals, I knew it wasn’t getting done today, Great, another night in the hospital. I find out later in the day that my hospital can do the procedure, but can’t actually fix anything if they find something, so I’ll be getting transferred to a hospital in Ft Myers. Bright and surly Tuesday morning, two EMT’s wheel me into the back of a meatwagon. And the hits just keep on coming, because of the heart monitor, I have to have EMT’s transport me. If nothing else, I was admitted quickly, tagged with a shot of Demerol, and enjoying the buzz. Oh boy, my favorite part, prep time. As the nurse whips up my gown, and throws a folded hand towel over my ……… “this is to preserve dignity” she said. “Lady, you’ve got my junk cradled in your palm, there’s not much dignity left to have at this point, so just get it done.” Go figure, for one tiny hole, I’m shaved from my navel down to my knees, and she killed three electric razors in doing so. I then proceed to get scrubbed down with “liquid smurf,” the latest in pre op scrubs. As I lay there alone, I lift the blanket to take a look at the damage. Holey hell, I have a strip of bright blue hair from my naval down. Dignity…. Good God, I have a punk rock package for cryin out loud. The characterization was pretty cool, as I got to watch about 75% of it while it was happening. The doc spoke to me in the recovery, and I’m happy to say, for a guy who’s smoked for two thirds of his life, I have a very strong and extremely healthy heart. My stomach is another ball game……

The entire month of April is pretty much a blur, with Cindy and Gab going up to the State finals, and advancing to the World Finals. I had a three day class in Daytona the following week, doctors appointments, and assorted happenings to do with Gab and school, made the month fly by. Somewhere in the middle of the month, my fear was confirmed. Cindy told me that our trip was now dependant on how costly my medical bills were, and the cost of now getting Gab up to East Lancing for the world finals. When it rains, it pours, and this time literally. Sealing puckering, and water dripping….. hey, what’s another two grand to have the roof repaired. That ol feeling of doom was starting to set in, and I told Cindy I was stopping on the planning, as I had lots of other stuff I could be spending my time on. She insisted I continue planning, so I did more research through the month as the bills started to roll in. It wasn’t looking good in my opinion, but it’s time to head over to my moms for mothers day brunch. Having told mom and my sister of the proposed trip, Izzy asked if we were going or not. A quick “yes, we’re going,” was all Cindy said. On arrival home on Tuesday night, Cindy told me the Church had called. Now I know I haven’t attended in a while, but to chase us down… hmmm It’s not like we don’t have money automatically deposited in their fund every month, so what do they want now. I had completely forgotten that about two and a half years ago, we donated five thousand dollars to the building / expansion fund. Hey, we were doing good, and they needed the money. Cindy tells me that the church wanted to know if we wanted to keep the money as a donation, or take a check for the 5k loan we gave them. Loan…… hmmm, it was a loan ?

IT WAS A LOAN ! Wahooooo, five grand when I needed it the most. We’re going to ITALY !!! ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/95-jacki-said-pete-i-ve-got.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/94-location-location-location.html Sun, 06 Jun 2010 14:24:31 GMT Coming up with a destination was actually easy being Italy isn’t a huge country. From the thigh to the instep, Italy is less than 100 miles longer... Coming up with a destination was actually easy being Italy isn’t a huge country. From the thigh to the instep, Italy is less than 100 miles longer then Florida. Still, I didn’t want to spend more time driving then enjoying the country. If you asked what my people are called, the normal reply would be Calabrase, as my mom always says I’m my father’s son. Calabrase is a generalized term for anybody from the region of Calabria. Both of my father’s parents’ families came from the same commune. Moms family was spread out a bit, coming from Bari, and Naples. There it was, right in front of me, Naples. More than enough tourist attractions, and an easy driving distance to Carolei. A quick scan of Google Earth, and I had my destination, Sorrento. The perfect location, just far enough away from Naples for an easy day trip, and a bit more laid back. Just south, Isle of Capri. More then enough of your regular tourist attractions between the two places, and even Rome is close enough to visit. So, the first half of the trip location is set, now for the second half of the trip. While there are many places I could stay close to Carolei, I’m opting for the Tyrrhenian coast. Carolei is a fairly small place, and it has around nine tiny communes of different names included as part of it, so basing myself out of one place and doing day trips should once again work perfectly. A quick hotel search, and I had many coastal towns to choose from.

By this time a week had past, and not a word from Cindy concerning all the info I had presented, so I asked. It was getting a bit frustrating to get more non answers, so I continued to do my research. I settled on the little town of Amantea for our second stop, which was south west of Carolei, and would make for an easy drive to hundreds of places. With my bases of operation set, places to stay. Trying to stay with a low budget so to speak, I started looking at hotels in Sorrento.The coolest hotels in the heart of the town weren’t in the picture. We wanted a quieter setting anyhow, so off the main drag wasn’t a problem. The number of hotels in the area is actually mind boggling, and then I saw it, Relias Blu. To hell with the budget if I can get a room at this place. I know Cindy would love the place, so I checked for room availability. Of course it was all booked up, which is more than likely a good thing. Being a bit more grounded now, I continued to search for just the right place. After deciphering countless hotel and B&B web sites, contacting a dozen places, I finally settled on a small place up in the hills overlooking Sorrento. It met my basic criteria, room with view, restaurant, wouldn’t break the bank, and parking, which seems to be a problem everywhere in Italy. They had the dates available, and replied in understandable English. Did I mention I really don’t speak much Italian. I can either be polite, or very rude, and little more.

The second place to stay was a bit of a challenge. As I said, I settled on Amantea, but it had more to do with hotel location and availability, and whether they corresponded in English or Italian. Go figure, living in Florida, I’m really not a beach person per say…. Sunburn, sand in my draws, lots of folks that look even worse than me barely dressed. Then again, Cindy loves the beach, and I can deal with some time just lounging in the sun with a cold drink, and all the Bellas’ to look at. I had also squeezed some vital info from Cindy, she would be happy staying at a B&B. It’s funny how many lodgings do not correspond in anything but Italian in the south. Contacting over 20 B&B’s, seven replied with at least fairly understandable english, so my search was already narrowed. Out of the seven, 4 said they had guest parking, whittling it down again. I sent links to Cindy, which at this point may sound a little weird to you. Yes, we actually do speak to each other, but it’s easier if both of us can be online at the same time to look at stuff, or she can look at stuff at her convenience. She was still crazy busy with Odyssey Of The Mind, and her work schedule. Of course, this still kept the flow of details to a minimum, but she liked all of the options, and told me to chose the one that works best for me. Sounds too good to be true, and I have to move forward so I didn’t lose room availability at this point. With rooms reserved in both locations, the rental car would be about the easiest thing to book. Pick up and return to the airport location, it doesn’t get any easier. As normal I checked to see if anything besides my Fl license was needed to drive in Italy. An international driving permit was required, so a quick online search had me on the AAA website. Down load a form, fill it out, two passport type photos, and my license. Seems simple enough, and I’ll wait for my new license before I get the permit.

After a slew of emails, I finally got the birth certificate disaster straightened out, and about three weeks later it finally came…… only one. OK, let’s try it again. Set up a nine am appointment with DMV for the following Monday morning. I got me stuff wired tight now. DMV, Walgreens for passport photos, breakfast while waiting on the photos, off to the passport office, then to the AAA office. I was home by eleven with only a minor glitch. My birth name is Just Peter Felice, and that’s what it said on the New birth certificate. Years ago, I started using my confirmation name for a middle initial. It kept me and dad from getting each others mail. Now this may seem odd, but I don’t know how to sign my name without a “T” in the middle. The girl at DMV said that the “T” would have to get dropped on the license, but to sign the application as I normally would. I was also unimpressed with how little documentation you needed to get the international driving permit. They don’t even check your driving record, but hey I have what I need to hit the strata in Italy. Two days before Easter, I’m making great progress. I have hotel rooms reserved, and all my traveling papers in my hand or in the works. It was time to look much closer on what, where, and when. ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/94-location-location-location.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/93-traveling-land-dreams.html Sun, 06 Jun 2010 03:51:36 GMT It's been quite a long time since I posted an entry here, and it's due to nothing out for the norm happening. Still riding a lot, and when I left you last, Brad was drunk and bumbling around in the dark in Alabama.

Seems like a lifetime ago, and it's time to move in a different direction here. A non motorcycle related road trip, and it's been a long time coming. The title of this entry pretty much sums it up, as it's been dreamed of, and dreamed in.

While my postings my come off as reserved, trust me, I'm about ready to burst. For almost as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to visit Italy. Somehow, some way, which I will not question, I get to live out a dream. This all started jokingly back in September 09 when my daughter was invited to get involved with People to People. Cindy, out of nowhere came out with “maybe we’ll go to Europe” while Gabrielle is traveling. After twenty years of marriage, I’ve learned to take comments like that with a grain of salt. Not much more was ever said until this past March. Out of nowhere, Cindy asked me if I wanted to go to Scotland / England on vacation. If you’re like me, an average guy who has never really had an opportunity to travel overseas, you jump at anything offered. Hey, I’ve dreamed of spending a year traveling in the UK and Europe, and that’s about how much time I’d need to see what I want. She asked me to put the trip together being she was pretty busy with helping fund raise, and organize the trip to the state finals for Odyssey Of The Mind.

I started laying the ground work for a nice two week trip to the UK. Had at least a half dozen friends looking to catch a pint or two while I was there, and lots of advice on what to see and do. Life was good. For whatever reason, I happened to look at the average weather for the time period we would be there, and realized there could be a problem. I can deal with any climate, but Cindy is not much for the cooler temps. I mentioned it to her, asking if she would rather a warmer destination. I haven’t had a real vacation in about 4 years, so again, I’ll take whatever I can get. I’m a simple man… I asked her if Italy had any appeal, and to my amazement she said she could do Italy. As I sat completely shocked, barely able to speak, I managed to get out another question. “Would you want to do the normal tourist stuff, or more hopping from one small town to the another ?” A bit of both is the basic reply I got, and that was all I needed. I nodded, and turned to the computer, it was time to get serious about a trip abroad, and much to do. Our last vacation was my idea, and we shared in the planning. This was all on me for the time being, so I needed to get solid info quickly. I figured getting passports was the first priority, and happy to say, I’m glad I attacked it first.

Gabrielle had applied for her passport a few month prior, so we knew what was needed. Ya, right…. We knew squat. Why would we, we’re no world travelers, and we didn’t need passports on the Alaskan cruise a few years ago. I set up a time to hook up with Cindy to submit our applications, and set up an appointment at DMV to get a new digital drivers license. Florid use to use a sticker when you renewed by mail, and it made them look less then legit. Mine looked really shoddy, so I figured it was best to get a replacement with the travel plans. Had all my paperwork in order, proof of residency, old license, and birth certificate. Hit the barber shop at 7:00am, and was in line at DMV by 7:45, and lookin good. Handed the paper work to the nice lady, and was promptly told that my birth certificate was not valid. “But it’s the one I was born with” I told her, which garnered a sneer of sorts, as she said… NEXT IN LINE. I slowly moved towards the info counter, dejected and confused. I was told my birth certificate didn’t have a raised seal, and was no longer good after 49 years. Go figure. I called Cindy to tell her of the snag, and she said she had brought my birth certificate to the passport office, and they said it was OK. Of course, that was prior to the change in the law, which came into effect early this year apparently. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time, and made my date with Cindy. This time, the nice lady explained it all. Unknown to me, Cindy had gotten a replacement birth certificate a year or so ago for whatever reason. So I’m sittin there thinking….. sleep under a dark cloud last night… as Cindy gets her application sent in. OK, no big deal. I can just get on line and find out how I get a replacement from the City of New York. Ya huh….

Within minutes of getting home, I had the NYC site up and found that it was a pretty common thing. They even had an independent company that handled it all. So I’m a bit more optimistic now, and start the process. Being I’m a legend in my own mind, it won’t be a problem for the computer archives to recognize me by the questions they're asking. I guess these days, it could actually be a good thing the government doesn’t really know you, but in this case, it was just one more speed bump. Still, it looks pretty simple…. Download and print a form, a copy of each side of the ol drivers license, attach it to the form, scan it, and email it to them. Ten minutes later, I hit the submit button and………… “Your session has timed out.” Oh hell, ya never said there was a time limit. OK…. OK we start over and I realize the number on my scanned paperwork doesn’t match the order number on the screen. Print another form, rescan, and bang……. Timed out again. !%(($#U*&#ERY^%UI^*Y%G !!! you have got to be kidding me. I can do this… I’m not gonna let a friggin computer get the upper hand. So now I reprint the form for the third time, and then start an new session. Bada bing, bada boom…. “Your order has been placed” is what the screen said, and life was once again good. I opened my in box to check for the confirmation email, and found one waiting for me. “Thank you for your orders…. Blah blah blah. Wait a second…. Orders ? Looking down the page I find the three order numbers, two of which were from the timed out sessions. The last thing I needed is three birth certificates at just under forty bucks each. Contact info… contact info… dam, where did they hide it. Sheeeeees, there it is, like they don’t want to talk to you or something. Wait, they don’t, only canned question categories, which none meet my needs, and no phone numbers. Flip a coin on category, give the details of my problem, and hope for the best.

With this done, I can now focus on the destination, the fun part. Italy has everything I could want, ancient history, exquisite food, beautiful beaches, some of the finest art in the world, and more mountains then you can shake a stick at. The bad part is, I would have a total of eight full days there, and wouldn’t have enough time to do all I want to. What mattered to me the most, would be visiting the commune my paternal grandfather was born, Carolei. There’s not a lot of tourism in Southern Italy except on the coasts, so this was gonna be tougher then I thought to keep both of us happy. Cindy is in no way a history buff, so I couldn’t fill the trip up with mostly ruins, castles, and restaurants. I started to smell smoke as the wheels started to turn in my head. There was no avoiding it, I had to ask Cindy what she wanted to do. Being Cindy has never really shown any real interest in travel abroad, her reply should have been expected…… “I don’t know.” All I needed was some Jello pudding, and Bill Cosby had nothing on me…. “I don’t know.” “”What do you want to see ? “I don’t know.” “Would you like to see Rome, maybe the Vatican ?” “I don’t know.” I mean, were talking the classic trap here. I plan out what I think will make both of us happy, one screw up, and we’re the classic ugly American arguing in a public square. With that in mind, I had no choice but to lay out a basic plan, and put it in an email with lots of links to places and things to do in the areas I wanted to visit. All this time, one thing was always in the back of my head, how in Gods name are we going to afford this, with Gabrielle's trip costing us around 6K already. None the less, I forged on....... ]]> Pete http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/pete/93-traveling-land-dreams.html http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/henry/92-fred.html Wed, 12 May 2010 19:23:09 GMT About a month ago I was in the middle of a walk/run. Nothing spectacular. Just alternating walking and running every five minutes for a half an hour... About a month ago I was in the middle of a walk/run. Nothing spectacular. Just alternating walking and running every five minutes for a half an hour on the treadmill. About halfway in, while running, I felt a twinge in my left knee, which as most of you (hopefully) know is my bad knee. Considering how light my workout was I didn’t think much about it and kept on going.

But the next day walking up the stairs, I noticed it hurt.

And the next day it hurt too. Needless to say I was a little frustrated. I hadn’t even started really running yet. If walk/runs on the treadmill were going to take a toll on my knees how was I ever going to run a 15-20 mile long run? Or the marathon itself? I couldn’t really scale my workout back much more than I already had. But before I let depression fully set in, I consulted my sister.

She gently suggested it might be Fred.

Every time my wife has gotten pregnant, I gained about 20 pounds. It happened with all three kids. Maybe this is due to matching her weird eating habits. Maybe it’s stress. Maybe it’s not getting any exercise. Or maybe it’s completely psychological. Whatever the case, I can assure you that sympathy weight is absolutely real. In my case, this weight manifested itself in my own little belly to match my wife’s. When it first happened I joked that I, too, was with child, and named it Fred. Over the years Big Baby Fred’s prominence has waxed and waned, much to the amusement of my physically fit sister. Other than that I’ve never worried too much about Fred.

Until now.

The thought that I might be carrying too much weight for my legs to handle never even occurred to me. Sure, I’ve gained about 10 pounds since I stopped exercising but I couldn’t weigh THAT much, could I? Well, there was nothing for it. The Beast had now added Fred to it’s roster of evil minions which I’d have to conquer if I wanted to cross that finish line. I downshifted to walking for another week, and invested in a pair of orthotics to further cushion my legs. I started wearing the brace on the knee again. Also, I replaced my Perfect Shoes with a pair of even More Perfect Shoes that gave me even more support.

The pain went away in about a week. And so far no more injuries. I’ve shed about 6 pounds. I can run four times a week and I have gotten my long runs up to four miles. But now I know, I have seen my enemy.

And his name is Fred. ]]> Henry http://www.thenoosphere.com/blogs/henry/92-fred.html