Enjoying Eclectic Europe!

Phew!

London, France, Italy and now Greece. I've often barely had time enough to breathe let alone write. Here are a few snippets from the adventures of the Mad Hatter and his three tea tarts:

London, England
Wandering along the River Thames. Jenn snaps photos of everything. I smile at her excitement and joy, despite the long flight that stirred more than butterflies in the belly. Mom and Tanya join us for part of the walk, then retreat for R&R at the hotel. Jenn and I trek onward, past Parliament, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square and Picadilly Circus. We get lost amidst the dazzle of lights, double deckers and winding ways of London streets. Buckingham Palace lingers royally somewhere to our left as we c0-navigate back to our hotel. It's nearly midnight, but, for the time being, jetlag has been deferred by the wonder and flavours of this foreign setting.

Corsica, France
Accomodation proves difficult, due to an--unbeknowest to us--Italian long weekend. We arrive on Friday night, can't find our car rental place (which we later find out closed earlier than usual, an hour before our ferry from Nice arrived). An expensive taxi ride takes us to Maloni Hotel, although we only have a single night reserved. At my request to stay five nights the owner, Alex, scolds me. "I'm booked until September!" He phones his friends in the morning and finds us a place just a few kilometers from the small town of Saint Florent. Picked up by our new host (who speaks next to no English) we go up a windy, pot-holed road with some trepidation. The place looks very green, while the stone building we are guided to looks small and weathered. Inside, complete with stove, fridge and washing machine, we realize we have stumbled across the best kind of sanctuary--the hidden and unexpected. This is why I don't like to book in advance, as such a discovery can't be found in Lonely Planet or Eurocheapo. Jenn, our talented translater, converses with the owners in French. They take us to a "sa-preeze" on the property: a swimming pool! Not bad for 80 euros a night.

Venice, Italy
After sixteen and a half hours of travel--bus, ferry, bus, train, train, train--Jenn and I stagger onto the Grande Canal. The waterway is a sight from another world, a mythical place where streets flow with water and gondoliers sing under the stars. Reflected orange in the current is the almost blazing full moon, hanging in the sky like a plump lamp, a beacon guiding us through the maze that is Venice to our hotel. We get lost. In fact, that is one of our goals on our four-day sojourn. Often, Jenn and I simply choose a direction and walk. Sometimes we end up where we started. Other times the map is our saviour. Yet always we stumble upon little treasures: a cat lounging on a bridge, a gelato shop for my daily fix, a choir singing in San Marco square, delectable vegetarian Indian food, and voluptuous Venetian masks. Our last night involves a gondola ride at night, along quiet canals, during which I spot a shooting star. La Dolce Vita!