Gate 32 at HK International airport, the thought of spending the next 12 hours in a metal cylinder being propelled at about 800 km per hour with about 300 odd other burping farting, snoring humans in a cramped seat doesn’t excite me, but it has to be done to get to the main stop of the trip in Italy.

The pilot is a Pom and seems to be a bit of a comedian, Genelle is definite that he dropped the “f” bomb. We’re at the back of the plane with Il Gruppo in a loose group, the plane is really full so I fire up the Bose noise cancelling headphones and successfully cut out the jet noise and the burping, farting and snoring noises. 

The travelling group leaving Dubbo on Saturday morning.

The only distraction is the nudge on the arm when G wants to ask a question or comment on a movie she’s watching. I take the headphones off to listen to what she has to say, dutifully, and the booming noise outside of the cocoon of noislessness of the headphones means I can’t hear her, I know she thinks I’m deaf but the headphones are like being in a quiet calm room with no distractions. The music from the IPod or the sound from the movies is clear and resonant. A Genelle is clear and resonant on many things but certainly not quiet.

A short doze and a punch in the shoulder wakes me, I had the noddies, head tilted unconsciously left into Genelle’s space – reminder to self not to do that again as will mean another bruise on my arm. The map says we’re south of Ulan Bataan in Mongolia, some Russian and Silk Road names like Tashkent underneath us on the map and still 6-7 hours travelling to go. As usual sleep isn’t that easy so I read my Red Cross Store $2 Jack Reacher book until the sun starts to catch up with us about when I see Kiev and Moscow on the map with Milan out the back, 3 hours 40 minutes to go.

Note to self 2, go easy on Dave today, I don’t like to admit this but I think I was a bit harsh yesterday, and being a smartarse ( that’s me I’m referring to!) doesn’t make me feel comfortable. Other people are better at it and probably feel less guilty. But he tests me all day, clearly unhappy about the issues raised yesterday, he’s somehow been offended and looking for a little retribution so I think I’ll keep my head low. That said, he does make good blog fodder, even if he doesn’t say or do anything I can just make it up.

Milan is a refreshing 12 deg C, so the pilot says, that’s a tad chilly after Hong kings humid mostly 30+ deg C.

We land at 7.30am through cloud and it looks misty and wet. We straggle off the plane into Milano’s Malpensa airport, join the long line of non Euro passport holders and eventually after a very cursory passport check we’re in Italy with our bags. A short walk to the Treni Stazione to catch the Airport Express to Milano Centrale. Buy tickets at the vending machine fo13 Euros each, validate them, get on the train and it’s about an hour into Milan.

Milano Centrale is a magnificent old building, very impressive. We upset the train station cafe waiter by not giving him an order after buying our food and coffees at the counter, then picking it up at the counter. We then make him happy by buying more coffee and arrancini, with a tip to pacify him. Genelle, John and I then head downstairs to the Tim Telecom store to buy Italian sims for iPads and iPhones for local contact numbers, as with a lot of things in Italy there is not much urgency and we just make it upstairs to join the group and get on the train. Minor panic for some.

Seating sorted in carriage 3, bags stowed and we’re on our way to Florence at around 300km per hour. The country is pretty green, a change from what I heard was a hot dry summer. 1st Class is good but the wifi doesn’t work very well. Florence station is busy as usual and we duck over the road for a drink. The Olympic Class shopper, Ali and I head for the streets for a quick reconasance mission while the others drink beer – big decision for me beer v shopping?  I pick shopping and we leave Santa Maria Nobella Station for Medici Chapelle, the San Lorenzo Leather Markets before getting on the train to Camucia/ Cortona.

The 5 drinkers  do make some derogatory comments regarding a small faux pas I make regarding the time our train leaves Florence, but as writer of the blog I have the right, now enshrined in common law, to chose if negative comments are published, especially about me.

We race over the road, into the train station and onto the train, the last leg to Cortona.

We reach Camucia train station at 3.30pm. Francesca is there to meet us and drive us up the hill to Cortona. We truly are felling stuffed, it’s been about 30 hours since we last showered and have been travelling for about 24 hours of that time.

Driving into Cortona is like putting a comfortable old shoe on, the place feels like it’s easy to like. Its scarily steep and the streets are narrow cobblestone lane ways, old rock buildings and character that is very hard to explain to people, you have to see it.

Bags stowed in our rooms in Dolce Maria B&B, we go for a walk and look over the valley to Lago Tresimino, the back for drinks and nibbles at a cafe on Piazza Adela Republica, then dinner at Nesson Dorma.

Dinner is quiet, Genelle has the noddies and nearly goes to sleep at the table, Andrew is almost as bad, so they walk back to the B and B. Dave and I have a quiet grappa before doing the same. We are buggered. Tomorrow is a chill day, sleep in and going no where

Ciao from Tuscany ! We made it

Pauolo

Blue skies greet us when Genelle pulls the curtains back this morning. Foolishly I say “Are you going for a walk?” Thinking it’s early but it’s actually after 8 and I get a fairly curt response, unwarranted I feel, just because I’m not renowned for early starts, no need for making sarcastic comments.

Yesterday’s walking paid a toll on my knees, they’re really aching this morning. I’m trying to hold off the heavy duty pain killers a bit, just between you and me – keep this quiet because it’s a bit personal, the travel and the pain killers block the old system up a bit and I need the get things, you know what I mean, a little more regular. I think when we get to Italy and can settle then Mother Nature will get things in better balance for me. I don’t think I need to paint the picture any better than that for you do I?

Breakfast is the usual “porky pig” thing, we do graze widely and try all the cuisine areas, what a bunch of guts aches we are, all of us. Mind you, taking into account the previous paragraph, I do fill my plate full of roughage, fruit and other gut friendly food. It’s a pretty good breakfast spread at the Park Hotel. 

Riding instructions are given by the women early, they are going shopping, we blokes either follow (and stay quiet) or bugger off and do our own thing. It’s hard to read the signals as to which option is going to get the points, so we opt to follow and try and look interested. Immediately, like within 30 metres of the hotel door, they find the first clothes shop, we sit on hydrants, the steps or lean on walls to kill the time while the women harass the poor girl in the shop looking at the ” bargains” on offer, then proceed to leave after buying nothing. Same thing at the next shop. Then the shop they were really going to, same name as the first shop but with a better selection and more staff ( a fact observed by the Il Accountant). Dave and John do the right thing a dutifully stand at the door but Andrew and I round the corner onto Nathan Road and find a set of steps in front of the HSBC bank which isn’t open because of the Chinese public holiday today. Eventually they come out, a few HK dollars lighter than they went in and we wander down the hill to Marks and Spencer’s. Yesterday’s purchase by Genelle ( a dress) is swapped for a more appropriate size, another one is procured and the other women make what we should say and very good purchases, once agin while us blokes stand around like stale bottles of the proverbial with shallow smiles, shifting from foot to foot, commenting under our breath about the futility and waste of time shopping is – except me that is. I confess that shop shopping isn’t something I enjoy unless it’s stuff that pushes my buttons, like books, camera’s, gadgets etc etc, I don’t mind market shopping again as long as its stuff I’m interested in so call me a hipocrit  if you like, it might just be the truth. It’s just that I’d like to be alive when we get to Milan tomorrow. As we decide to part ways with the female folk, Dave takes the lead, we think to go somewhere for a drink and then to meet back at the hotel. 

Dave has the look of a man on a mission, head down in the map, a glint in his eyes, a sense of purpose in his walk, his time is here, a leader of men, on a mission to find a drink. He leads we follow, we’re still none the wiser as to where we are heading. On being questioned about our destination by said followers, we get a vague answer and he does seem to have it under control. We wander down an alley way, smelling of dead animals and a little slippery under foot, into narrow streets with massage establishments and tailors representatives, vaguely heading back towards our hotel. We think this looks promising but he now seems to have a worried look in his eyes, he glances left and right, turns and looks behind us, we detect that all may not right. As we turn into Cameron Road, he confesses, he said he was going to the bar near the Adidas shop and he has no idea where it was. We advise Dave that the Adidas shop was just outside the side door of Marks and Spencer, and totally the opposite way to the walk back to the Park Hotel. A look of doom comes over his face, his shoulders slump, if he’d been an SAS commander leading a mission in Afghanistan he would ended up in Iran. We console him and suggest a beer, I can’t recall who suggested it but the Oyster Bar/ Boom Boom Bar and a few other names, over the road form the hotel looks interesting. 

Another f….g disasterous decision, but we’re all guilty and it’s helpful as it takes the pressure off Dave. Drinks in the Oyster Bar will be a once only affair, it smells of old fish/long dead oysters, the beer is American, German and Japanese and no Tsing Tao. We swaggle the beer down and exit as fast as we can fearing botulisms are in the air and on the surfaces. Back over the road to the Park Hotel bar where the smell is normal and the beers include Tsing Tao.

The Taxis to the Women’s Market at Mong Kok costs $50 HK ($8 Aud), it’s quick but is still Dave disoriented, he is struggling and admits he doesn’t have much of an idea where we are, this morning has really dented his confidence. A local restaurant is located for lunch, we order some Hot Chicken Rice and Beef Noodles Soup. As we’re waiting for the food to arrive we try some of the spices or condiments on the table, one of them is chilli and the other one we don’t know makes our tongues fizz, and eery feeling. The Hotel Chicken Rice comes and the orderers are immediately gasping for breathe, its f….g hot and eyes water, sinus’ clear, and Genelle passes hers to Dave immediately. Dave has found his mojo, he can handle the heat this bloke, mightn’t know where to find the heat but if he does he can handle it. The Beef Noodle Soup arrives, its milder but still a lot of chilli floating in the broth, the beef is an odd purple colour and Jane advises its the colour of tongue, there is a bit of gagging around the table but if its tongue it’s fresh tongue and some of us handle it, sort of, but it’s also a sinus clearer and you try to ladle broth without the chilli. The bill is about $400 HK ($68 AUD) for 8 people.

We plunge into the markets, and its commented that the stalls are run by women, but I think it’s mostly women, there are a few brow beaten blokes there selling stuff, probably ordered to work by their wives while she’s off buying clothes and jewellery. A few bargains are found, 64 gb memeory sticks hidden in Hentai and other carton characters for about $3 Aud, rip off Polo shirts for about $5 Aud etc etc and the crowd is massive.

We all find each other at the end of the laneway and decide it’s time to head back. A frantic search for a taxi ensues, the buggers won’t pull over when we hail them, so we wander down a side street and find 2 cabs for the ride back to the hotel.

Dinner, after the 6pm checkout is at a restaurant, just around the corner. We did the headless chook thing and had a little trouble selecting a venue but a decision is made. We’re ushered up stairs to a table near the kitchen. The menu is a good mixture of dishes, no hairy crabs like Il Commando wanted are on the menu BUT there are little dumpling things with condensed milk for dessert. The other dumplings are a mix of hot, spicy and plain pork, very tasty. We are little slow off the mark because to order you have to fill in the menu and hand it to a waiter, what a funny idea.
Tea and coffee back at the Park Hotel and chill for a while. Dave provides easy entertainment, he’s a little more relaxed and a little bit self deprecating, I think he’s recovering.

9.13. Precisely we leave the Park Hotel for the airport in our Airport Express shuttle bus to the train station. A tour around Hong Kong for zero other pickups and then to the train station, 1 minute wait, a train comes in, every second carriage has seats facing the wrong way, and so are pretty empty, of course Il Accountant has to face the right way so he finds a seat in the next carriage. This train is very quick, it even has airline check in at the city end. Good tip for next time – don’t worry about taxis or transfers, take the Airport Express.

We’re quickly at the airport, through check in because Sonya had already check us in on line so we only had to hand our check in bags over, immigration control is quick and we are waiting for a gate for our flight to Milan. Flight CX 233 leaving Hong Kong at 1.05am

I’m trying to work out how to get photos into blog, but not successfully yet, please be patient. Next stop is Milan in the morning

Caio, arrividerci from Hong Kong

Pauolo

Unless you’re here with us you may not understand some of this. We, the group, are like mercury on a sheet of paper, there is no plan and if somebody does have an idea then on the way to whatever it is we lose somebody because they are looking in a shop, or see something they want to spend some time looking at. As we find we’re missing somebody, or they’ve left something on a seat or under a table we recover, mutter a few words, then get on with it. None of us are innocent, but plans come together and we see and do things we talked about.

Today is China’s National Celebration day, celebrating the events of 1949 when China came together under Mao. A big day in China. There is a fireworks competition that night on Hong Kong Harbour near Macau, and we can go on a Star Ferry for 3 hours for not much money and watch.

Anyway, breakfast is at 9, level 4, and it’s a cracker, food is excellent, only thing is the jury is still out on the fermented soya beans that Jane tried with yogurt. There was stringy stuff, sort of like snot, dripping in thin stringy viscous lines off her chin, her lips were pursed, she didn’t look like it was enjoyable. Korea 1 Jane Nil. We left pretty full, thinking this was breakfast and lunch. There is a lot to do, let’s stop eating and get on with it.

A wander over to Nathan Road, we’re a bit split up, we have tailor  shoppers, jellery shoppers, spiteful venomous shopper haters, climate debaters, doubtful navigators, and a few cripples, all trying to work out what they’d like to do, in Hong Kong this is a difficult issue for a travelling group. A plan that you’r committed to does make it easy, trying to please everyone is very hard. Despite that I think we cope well for the day.

I have a small headache, have just been told by Genelle that she’s purchased more jewellery, for a lot of money, and I do comment sarcastically between gritted teeth that I thought she was short of jewellery and a bit more for Craig Carolan to clean and fix would be handy. A calm response from G informs me that they may be the last words I ever utter if I keep it up. Paul, you are a f…g idiot, just shut up and let things lie, you may end up in that mountainous cemetery on Hong Kong island yet.

Like a bunch of headless chooks we cross under a road with bumper to bumper traffic, into the ferry terminal, deicion made, we’re on the ferry tonight to watch the fireworks, and we’re catch a ferry to HK island and up Mt Victoria. This works well, we cross the harbour, catch a C 15 bus to Mt Victoria summit. The view is spectacular. A few beers, a bit of food and a rain storm and then we spilt, 4 to walk down, 4 to catch a taxis down. 

There is a break, them we catch up again at 5 or there abouts, after showers and freshening up. It’s steamy Asian heat, rain showers, cloud and sun. There is a debate about the shortest and quickest way to the ferry terminal, so we split onto 2 groups for the match race, Sonya G & P v the rest. SGP win. Nothing else needs to be said.

The wait under the roof of the ferry terminal is steamy, we are sweating, there isn’t much room, but eventually we get on the boat.

We have great food ( we bought), beer, bubbles, softies. There is Chinese Republic Nationalist music playing ( a bit weird but it’s their day), it’s a great atmosphere. The fireworks start and they go for ages, it’s spectacular in a spectacular setting.

Home at about 11pm, and to bed for everyone.

Tomorrow is shopping shopping shopping and then watching Il Commando going mad.

Tomorrow night at 1am we’re on the plane to Milan for a week in Cortona, Tuscany

Caio, arrividerci 

Pauolo 

A few drinks, a quick meal and a final check of the packing, we make sure that we have passports, money and tickets and vouchers, and after all that stuffing around the sleep doesn’t come that easily. 

It’s a relief when the alarm goes off, breakfast, make the bed, shower, Mark turns up at 5.20 to transport us to the airport, in a pair of shorts that have seen better days, the car is spotless, funny that. At 5.30am, a time of the day I rarely see, the traffic is light, looks mostly like it’s taxis taking people to the airport. 

We’re not the first at the airport, Jane and Andrew are already lined up, just after we wander in the maxi taxi spews out the other 4 out and Sonya gives us our boarding passes and explains why they have to check our bags in, I don’t get it but Genelle does, something about her changing flights so I say nothing, figuring it would be nice to get to Hong Kong today and  still be alive.  Alison is bouncing, her eyes are sparkling and she’s pretty chirpy, looks to me like psuedoephidrine or too many red cordials. Perhaps she’s a bit excited and is just showing it, anyway same as before, I’ll just keep that too myself.

For once Genelle and I don’t see anybody we know at the airport. Perhaps I’m still half asleep, and don’t pay much attention ( doesn’t sound like me) but it is odd.

Sydney on time, gate 15 and the shuttle to the International terminal. All is going well. Andrew and Jane catch up with their son “Little Andrew” – he’s looking a bit more like “Big Andrew” these days , grown up, and he needs a few minutes with his parents so we head through the gates of no return for a free sample of scotch and a coffee. The few moments between parents and son is good news, Jane and Andrew find out they have a new grandchild on the way, another heir to the Williams throne.

Il Commando, or he who cannot be mentioned in social media has a bloody mary that costs more than my plane ticket to Sydney, just to wash his bacon and eggs down, the rest of us have a coffee. Easy to see he’s got a job, the Scot in him is repressed, for just a moment anyway.

Gate 35 for our flight is chock a block with people, Flight CX162 to Hong Kong is delayed about half an hour. All our names are called, and I think immediately this is either really f…..g good ( like an upgrade) or really f….g bad (like getting bumped), anyway it’s only just something about wanting to scan our passports, some officious Cathay Pacific woman gives us the head tilt and drops the glasses to the end of her nose, just like Genelle does when you know you’re in trouble and says something about if you check in on line you have to report to the desk at the gate 30 minutes before departure – I check the boarding pass but can’t see anything that instructs anything like that. Maybe we’re a bit weary but us blokes sit down and roll our eyes and have little whinge, the women cluster in the First Class entry area and talk about babies and I would assume really important stuff. 

As Cathay get themselves sorted the Economy passengers line up for about 50 metres, Il Gruppo ( that’s us ) are where I mentioned a few moments  ago, The passengers who pay the big money casually stroll through, you can see their eyes glancing around to see who looks at them so the bastards can gloat about their big seats, champagne glasses, the New York Times paper on their bench as us peasants struggle past heading to the cheap seats at the back of the plane. Hope they choke on their gourmet roast chicken or spill hot espresso into their lap and ruin their Gucci slacks. 

As we board we think we’re missing one of our group, Andrew is reading a book on his iPad oblivious that we did get a lucky break and short circuit the long line by boarding through the First/ Business Class entry – where the women were standing did have a bonus and we were invited to board through this entry, but some people in the long Economy line give us the hairy eyeball as we circumvent the long Economy  line. I’m a bit sheepish now after my earlier rant.

Planes are planes, the long haul flights are mostly the same, cramped space and crap food, a movie, some Italian lessons, a g & t to wash a bit of nice fettuccini down – sort of ok so First/Business must be pretty good.

The flight is long and boring, much as you’d expect, just a means to get somewhere a long way away, the food isn’t too bad, gin and tonic was strong, and after a long 10 hours we land in Hong Kong after sundown. We lose Andrew for a minute, a loo stop and a smoke I think, then we’re quickly through customs and immigration, no problems and get our bags. Jane thinks she’s got the right bags at least, and no local bloke with a meat cleaver chasing us so it must be ok. The transport doesn’t work out so Sonya organises a train into Kowloon, then a free shuttle to the hotel, that works a treat. The Park Hotel is great.

15 minutes is all the time we’re allowed for ablutions then it’s off to find food and drinks. The women find a great restaurant, near the water, the food is fabulous and we drink a few Tsing Toa beers, excellent choice. Some wander back to to the hotel but a few of us wander down town, then up Nathan Road and back to the hotel. A few drinks at the hotel Happy Hour, 2 for one, and then unpack and bed by 12.30. For us that’s 20 hours on the go. 

Despite nearly losing a few travellers and a few travellers nearly losing bags, that day has gone pretty well.

Tomorrow will be a bit more relaxing, shopping, shopping, site seeing and then another happy hour.

Ciao for Hong Kong

Pauolo

One day to go, there’s a bit to do at work, then there are the really important things to do like get a haircut, repack the bag and try and lighten the weight off a bit, and almost the last thing, a few beers on Friday night.

You might ask me, but I wouldn’t if I was you, why the haircut is important when I’m 62, not much hair and what I’ve got is grey or skin colour. Well, I take pride in my appearance, and even if I don’t tint my eyebrows like some of the other travelers, I do like the collar to match the cuffs. Even the hair that sprouts out my nose and ears in greater propensity than the top of my head is grey. Enough about haircuts, Il Commando and I keep the haircut bit pretty simple.

Speaking about Il Commando ( he who cannot be named or photographed on social media – HWCBNOPOSM for short), while having a coffee this morning he did mention something about lightening off his bag weight and thought he might leave the underpants at home and “freeball” – at least I think that’s what he said, Dave and I did express the view pretty firmly that he should “keep the jocks and throw the socks”  instead. If we notice him walking a little more oddly than normal up the cobblestones of our Tuscan hill town I fear Dave, Andrew and I will have to have a fireside chat with Il Commando over a few grappa’s in a seedy Italian bar and explain that the family jewels jiggling around in your bermuda shorts isn’t kosher in Italy.

Friday night beers is at the Church Street cafe this week, a little al fresco drinking before heading home for the final detailed sorting and the early start on Saturday morning

La sua vicina sanguinosa ora, non può aspettare finché non arriviamo il viaggio in corso.

Ciao for now

Pauolo

Well readers, Tre giorni per andare, or “Three days to Go”, its so close to getting on the plane and heading out on the adventure, I almost wetting myself thinking about it –  I hope the other traveler’s are as excited as I am – then again maybe not! Trickling straw coloured fluid at an aircraft waiting gate probably is a bit of a turn off for a lot of people.

A short comment on my blog style,it’s not really that entertaining in my opinion, its mainly inane sarcasm, untruths, slanderous remarks and drivel all written with no sense of responsibility by the writer. I do expect people to write comments and not to be too complimentary, especially the people I might  comment on – if they can identify who I’m writing about, they do have the right of reply.

I think the excitement comes about due to a number of things;

• The fruition of all the planning, seeing the it on the page and know that the day is nearly here when it all starts to happen
• Sharing part of the travel with friends or family is pretty special. We did that last year and it did feel good
• Going somewhere “old” that you know, and somewhere new that’s an adventure  and creates a little nervousness about the unknown

Genelle has had a trial pack, 10.5 kg, I’ve had a trial pack, 13kg, simply not good enough on my part, so tonight I’m revisiting the bag and removing a few things that are probably not required, I do happen to think her main reason for packing light is so she can fit more shopping in for the trip home. As I’ve commented on in previous blogs, she’s a world class shopper, as a matter of fact if shopping was an Olympic sport she would be  a medal contender every time. To be fair, and sometimes I’m not, she does spend a lot of time looking and not buying, but when she buys, its usually a good deal and she buys in bulk. 1 time in Bangkok she bought 7 pairs of shoes in one sitting, the poor sales girl’s head was spinning, she’d been negotiated down so hard that I think Genelle might have even felt a little guilty.

All social events are done, except for Friday night drinks, which is the last one for a while. Medications are mostly procured, money secured, passports checked, tickets sorted, haircuts booked or had, eyebrows tinted, bills paid and all thats left is to wake up on time Saturday morning to catch the plane.

Next blog will be from somewhere on the road, or in the sky.

Ciao from Dubbo

Pauolo

So, look, in Blog 1 I just had a crack at some nicknames or alias’s for fellow traveler’s and some of them weren’t happy. Fancy that!

I was after some suggestions, and they’ve started pouring in, well at least one has poured in. After a little mediation we’ve agreed the first change is for Dave  who is now the Duke  (of Dubbo) so he will be referred to from now on as “Il Duca“, no bowing, no curtsey’s, I’m sure there will be a few more to come as its only a few days after Blog 1.

Why is it that people are so passionate about having their correct name spoken or their name spelt correctly? What do you think “Two Dogs”?

We had a Friday evening planning session, with food and alcohol to stimulate the thinking. We talked a lot and probably didn’t decide much but the food was excellent and the company was great, well I reckon it needs to be anyway or otherwise the first part of the trip might have been a bit interesting. We are a little closer to leaving, only 4 weeks now, and only a few things left to sort out before we get on the plane – Desidero che eravamo lì.

While I think of the trip every night, and probably most days, there is a lot of other stuff going on at the moment. At my work we’re moving office, and currently I’m homeless (workwise anyway), trying to work from home while we have renovations going on at home, jackhammers chattering away, painters ladders and trestles clogging up hallways and spaces, dust settling on almost everything, the builders singing ( f….g dreadful singers they are) , the point of the comments you ask – it’s very hard to work at home!

The reno’s at home started out small and have ended up big, and it now feels like I’ll need to stay in a job until I’m 80 to pay for it and the travel stuff. I did think that down sizing was a good option but as the bathroom water proofing was stuffed we had to do some expensive work anyway and so staying where we are, at least for a while now seems to be what’s happening. Another distraction has been a major cull of clothes and shoes by Genelle and myself as well as finally digging deep and sorting out Tim’s room ( after 3 1/2 years) has been another job we’ve undertaken in the last few weeks – with a bit of help from some friends a major redistribution of shoes and clothes in the Southern Hemisphere. 

So with our house a mess, clothes in bags everywhere, finding some gear for travelling in a few weeks time is going to be interesting.

I’ll have to work up to travel blog topics and how I write about my fellow travellers, I’d actually like to keep them as friends so I’m thinking I might need to ease them into handling my sarcasm, character assassination, and the personal insults that may be directed their way and the lack of them coming my way. I could come home and end up having Friday night drinks and Saturday coffee’s by myself!

Something to think about, but bugger it, it hasn’t stopped me before.

Ciao for now,

Pauolo

Not that long ago we finally decided, after a year or two of procrastinating, we had finally made a decision. We had an excuse to do it this year. We also had an excuse to do it in a few years time, that is, somebody’s major birthday, but another person’s major birthday in 2017 was the catalyst to shorten the time lag, and to be honest some of us couldn’t wait that long. Life is too short to wait too long and give yourself the chance to find an excuse to pull out and not do the important things in life, the things you dream about, things you think you can’t afford (as opposed to the things you know you actually can’t afford). What you can’t afford to do is wait, if you want to do something, and it’s important then you find the the time, and whatever else it needs, you don’t know what’s around the corner, so bloody well get on and do it!

Oh, you’re probably wondering what it is we’re going to do, at least I’m guessing that might be the case?

Well, it’s another trip, to a place some of us have been to before, at different times, a place we loved staying in, and the group of 8 intrepid travellers have decided 1 week here won’t do us any harm. The destination – a Tuscan hill town south of Florence called Cortona. The travellers are Paul and Genelle (Genelle’s 60th birthday is the excuse), John and Sonya (Sonya has a big one coming up but it’s a few years away), Jane and Andrew, and Dave and Alison – the group is to be known as either Otto Australiani Viaggiatori in Italia (Eight Australian Travellers in Italy), or I thought something shorter and easier like Il Gruppo ( The Group). I like “Il Gruppo” so that’s what it is, for me at least, and that’s at least for Hong Kong, Cortona and Venezia.

Now me being a “detail man”, I’ve done up a spreadsheet and estimated, pretty closely I reckon,  the amount of food, alcohol and coffee we’ve consumed planning this trip. And without giving the detail and boring you stupid, its a f…..g lot, of all categories.

The plan;

30th September 2017 – Dubbo to Sydney then Sydney to Hong Kong. 2 days in Hong Kong

Hong Kong to Milan then train from Milan to Florence and on to Cortona – a Tuscan hill top town for a week

Most of us then go to Venice, Dave and Al go to Croatia. After Venice we all go our own ways, John and Sonya to the Italian lakes, Jane and Andrew to Amsterdam and Rhodes (Greece), and Genelle and I to Berlin, Prague, Vienna and Rome.

7 weeks to go – bloody well hurry up!!!!!

“Il Gruppo” consists of  ( be vewy careful Paolo);

Andrew – alias “Big Andrew” known associate of Jimmy the Greek ( can I say that?) or “Grande Andrew” In Italian. Plan B could “The Number Cruncher” which is “Il Numero Cruncher”

Jane – alias “Sister J”  =  in Italian “Sorella J” ( as in nurse ) have to do better than that but it needs time and other input

John – alias “Commando” = “Commando” in Italian, thats origianl isn’t it! No explanation needed

Sonya – alias “Agent S”  or “Agente S” No explanation needed

Alison – alias “The Queen”  Italian is “La Regine”. As in the bowel queen

Dave – alias “Green Man” = “Uomo Verde”   which sounds like some sort of food

Genelle – alias “The Shopper”, only needs 1 letter, no time for any more. In Italian it translates as “Il Negozio”. That sounds Godfatherish – which is sort of appropriate, but reality is she negotiates with nobody, she wins they lose every time!

Paul – alias “55” as in Five five , not fifty five (a significant year). In Italian this is “Cinque Cinque“, sort of has a rhythmic ring to it don’t you think?

Look, I know it’s not that imaginative, but it’s the best I can do, ok.

For future reference and to make sure that you don’t allow kiddies to read this blog as “Il Gruppo” travel , there will be swear words used, there will be blasphemy, there will be reference to bodily functions that aren’t easy to listen to, there will be condescending remarks about fellow travellers (they have a right of response), and there may well be comments about people that some might see as inappropriate ie if somebody does something that classifies them as a ‘f…wit”, then I’ll say it. And I never let the truth get in the way of a good story.

Ciao for now

Paolo