Our tablemates are Mike, Susan, and their daughter Casey from Long Island. They have one of the penthouse suites on the top floor. We neglect to mention that we, umm, don't. They don't seem to mind and are gracious and friendly throughout the trip, even giving us a bottle of champagne that we later have in Venice.

* This just the first of a few vaguely remembered dates; we're writing this to recount a trip, not strive for historical accuracy.

Our bus made its way up to Eze, a city perched up at the top of a mountain overlooking the Mediterranean. Our tour heads up into a section of town that has shops, homes, and a hotel that all look to be carved out of the rock, though some concrete had to have been used as well.

The Trevia ("Three Streets") fountain was pretty, but not as touching as it might have been had we seen this movie that featured it sometime before we both were born. We threw the requisite pocket change into the fountain, guaranteeing our return to Rome. I still think that legend is a clever marketing stunt, and somewhat time-consuming to disprove.

We had been terribly disappointed to learn that the Vatican tour we wanted to take had been cancelled because the Vatican would be closed on our Rome day. That's why we were especially pleased to hear that the Vatican and Sistine Chapel would be re-opened solely for our tour groups! We went through St. Peter's Basilica, which was immense and filled with glorious art. Then we went over to the Tapestry and Cartography Museums and finished off the day at the Sistine Chapel. Michealangelo's multi-year back breaking painting of the ceiling truly is a glorious series of works. An asian company paid for the restoration of it recently; they've left a small area of one wall in the centuries-of-soot-and-grime-encrusted state so one can see how much work went into it.

One of the maitre d's (would "maitre d'hotel" be correct on a ship?) cooks the flambe' du jour each night just behind our table. She claims she's only set off the fire alarm once. Her fascination with fire (how many people would walk through a shipborne restaurant with a blowtorch?) scares me.

During the trip, we had the sense that we were being watched by one individual that had the requisite camera, but not the sticker identifying the tour group, i.e., he didn't appear to be from our ship but hung around our group.

We didn't find out who he was until we got back to the bus to head home; in the last 10 minutes of the tour, he and his cohorts had managed to develop some prints of us and place them in front of the bus, for sale for the low, low price of about $8 per shot. Not a bad racket, but we didn't take him up on any of them.

Turkey turned out to be a bunch of fun for shopping. The shopkeepers could be described as aggressive, but not rude. They'd stand outside their shops trying to lure you in. Our favourite was the one that yelled after Deb as she passed his store, "Miss, you dropped something!". She stopped and looked down, asking him, "Where? Where?". "In my store!" It would have been much more believable if she'd actually gone in his store.

We stopped at a Turkish rug store, where we were given a demonstration of the different kinds of rugs by a friendly salesperson. Luckily, this store was not a hard sell and Deb and I could excuse ourselves from investing our house down payment in a carpet that we couldn't bear to put on the floor.

That didn't stop us from buying some Turkish rugs, however, in the local bazaar. Had the ones we bought been magical, Alladin might have flown on one, if he didn't mind relatively tight quarters and had short legs. Come by Vermont sometime and see what are closer in area to Turkish doormats than rugs.

We thought we got a good deal on them, until we turned back to see the shopkeepers laughing and high-fiving each other. Apparently the Saturn owner needs to sharpen his negotiating skills before going back to a Turkish bazaar.

We also get to see the Parthenon, a site at the top of a mountain with an impressive monument. I might have done better at characterizing it had I been a little better at memorizing history and not been so tired of seeing stone ruins in 5 different countries. Deb was pretty patient with me after my sleep deprived, heat baked brain stopped enjoying what might otherwise have been an impressive site.

There's a water shuttle to St. Mark's square, which is pretty close to our hotel. Dinner at a nearby restaurant that serves a very nice Tortellini with cream and ham. It's good to know that some 5 time zones and 20 years from my Boy Scout campouts, I can still enjoy Macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. *grin*

Our hotel is rather nice. It's about 5 minutes from St. Marc's square (it sounds much more elegant as "Piazza San Marco"...). Our room has hardwoord floors, exposed beams, and a cute little custom bathtub for babies - they called it a Bee-day, or something like that. *smile*

Today's our anniversary, so I run home after getting a few roses for Deb. Hardly the most hardy flowers I've ever purchased, but one can't expect too much from flowers that have also endured this heat wave. I offer a gondola ride, but we decide that for the best picture taking opportunity, we should hold off a night or two.

While Murano, the island full of glass making factories and shops, had an abundance of gorgeous glass, I was saddened to see that it didn't have the abundance of glass beads we'd been hoping to find. Deb didn't seem to mind as much - hopefully she'll be able to find her next few month's supply at a bead show in Providence this fall.

In a city with no streets and no wheeled vehicles, boats take their place. We saw police boats, trash boats, ambulance boats, and construction boats. There are water taxis, but longer rides in them can get up in the high tens of dollars (by the way, most businesses will take dollars in all the port cities we visited, with the exception of Monaco). For most of the boat travel, the city provides Vaporettos, the equivalent of the bus and subway system in most cities. $36 gives you a three day unlimited Vaporetto pass, one that covers some surrounding islands as well.

In the evening we finally took a gondola ride. The Gondolier we picked wasn't up for singing to us - some will, some won't, and others charge to have a musician come along in the boat. Oh well. It was a marvelously peaceful experience, riding along the canals with the occasional push of the oar behind us. It's quite a bit like my all-time most peaceful activity - lying on the gunnels of a canoe on Lake Sunapee on a moonlit night on a lake as calm as glass. I can star watch for hours that way.

Two thumbs up!

Deb also saw St. Mark's Basilica while I lazed around in the hotel room trying out the Intermezzo file system. There's something pathetically geeky about spending vacation time in one of the most romantic and historic cities in the world learning about Linux filesystems and reading email. To each their own relaxation.