Boston

Stories from the Road

Brookline Village, Mass.

April 29, 2017

Matisse and Botticelli were the featured artists at he Museum of Fine Arts this morning. The exhibits were interesting and well done. I enjoyed trying to make sense of the art works and then reading the museum’s description and analysis. I like Dennis’s strategy of 1-½ hours maximum for a museum visit. It works well. Soon we’ll walk along the Charles River in Brookline, before getting ready for tonight’s dinner at La Morra.

Our walk with Dennis’s new Westy was interesting. The Emerald necklace is the name of a green belt that extends from the State House to Franklin Park.  A half-mile from Dennis’s urban condo we walked through woods and along the banks of multiple ponds. You would have thought we were in northern New Hampshire. Ball fields and running paths are everywhere. What a great resource!

Last night’s dinner at La Morra was fun and lively. Two friends of the Flocks brought their adult son and his fiancée. Jay is a realtor in Boston, and his future wife is a real estate attorney. They will marry on a Greek island this fall. Attractive and articulate, they definitely have designed a good program.

Our waitress Stephanie was on top of things last night. There were a lot of people, multiple dishes, and separate checks. She did a good job. She had waited on us before, and I remembered her calm, competent demeanor.  Her sense of humor was good, and we all had a good time.

Arizona

Stories from the road
Tucson, Arizona
The Arizona Inn
May 19, 2015

The water in the pool felt good this morning as I moved through my laps. Now it’s time for breakfast, and then we will make a filed trip to see some cactus. Hopefully we won’t run into any biker gangs on their way to Texas. Here is a question for my psychologist friends.

What might be an answer that a Waco biker might give to card 9 on the Rorschach?

I just had a nice breakfast quesadilla in the patio restaurant at the Inn. A British couple was sitting not far from us, and I thought they must be in heaven coming from the wet, often cold climate of the British Isles.

The road from Marfa to highway 10 is two lanes and very flat and straight. It is 75 miles long with no services and few cars. We passed two people on bicycles loaded down with gear. I had seen them the day before in Marfa, and I didn’t envy their trip considering the distance, the wind, and the lack of services. I wondered where they were headed.

When he was 16, my nephew, Lucas Nardella, and his mother, Maria, pedaled from Seattle to Washington, D.C.  In 6 weeks. It was a grueling trip with high temperatures, dangerous drivers, and bugs. They were members of a fund-raising group. Lucas was the youngest member of the group, and he proved to be a strong rider, staying with the leaders much of the trip. Maria continues to do a long distance ride in the Northwest every summer.

I talked with the British couple at the pool. and indeed they love the climate. They are off to Las Vegas, Zion, and Bryce, before flying to San Francisco and then home. I told them they have a terrific itinerary.

Baci Ristorante

Old World Fun

Baci Ristorante on Morena Blvd. in San Diego is old world Italian. The waiters wear tuxedos in a space that is of traditional design. The food is very good, and the prices are reasonable. The restaurant makes its own gelato. Say no more!

To London

Stories from the Road
June 8, 2015
London, England

It is -63 degrees F outside as we cruise at 619 MPH over the Atlantic. The plane is full, but it is a quiet, uneventful flight thus far. Earlier we were served cheese omelets, yogurt, juice, and coffee. Since I had finished my Joe Nesbo book, I began a Kurt Wallander novel. These Scandinavian mystery novels are great fun.

Our trip to Logan was quick, as there was little traffic at 5:30 AM. On Friday we landed during rush hour, but the traffic wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Our driver was from Pakistan. After I told him we had hiked there years ago, we had an animated talk about the country and its people.

On our way to K-2 we had flown to a frontier town called Skardu. Vicki and I had wandered around and met a group of children, ranging in age from nine to twelve.  They were excited to meet us and showed us around the town. I have pictures of them standing in front of the mayor’s house. One of the boys became the lead guide, and he would sweep his hand in an arc toward what he was showing us. I was sorry to have left these enthusiastic guides.

Salim, our driver from Heathrow, brought a big comfortable van to drive us to the Nadler in SoHo.  Born in Turkey, raided in Sweden, and now a British National, he was a friendly man, whom hopefully we can hire down the line to drive us to Gatwick.

The Curse of the Solo Traveler

We have travelled with Dennis Humphrey a number of times. He has educated me by words and example about solo travel. He always gets a small room. In Cinque Terra a train ran next to his bed, In Cortina he slept in a “closet”, and though his room here isn’t bad, it is small. He tries not to eat in restaurants by himself, since he usually gets ignored. Dennis manages these discriminations with good humor.

Fall In New England

Stories from the Road
October 11, 2016
Hancock, NH

The road was playing a Technicolor movie today, as we drove through the hills of southern New Hampshire. Hancock, Francistown, Bennington; these small towns were displaying brilliant, fall foliage. The air was crisp, the sun was out, and I was being transported back to my New England childhood.

Hancock, where we are staying is only 90 minutes from Boston, but it feels like another world. There are few cars on the road, and there are ample parking spaces in any town near us. The biggest surrounding town is Peterborough, a beautiful village set amongst rolling hills on the banks of Contoocook River. Mary Rose Olenik, a friend from Del Mar, lives there, and last night we had dinner at her house with her and her sister, and brother in law from Colorado.

We are staying at the Hancock Inn, a Yankee Classic. The Inn has a tavern and restaurant, and all the rooms are furnished with colonial type furniture. Some of the rooms have fireplaces in them. There is a friendly golden retriever here, and I am enjoying hanging out with him for some of the time. Tonight Mary Rose will join us for dinner here.

Today we will cruise and take more foliage photos. I particularly like to find small ponds with bright trees around them and reflected in the water. They aren’t hard to discover! The local churches are fun to photograph also, as are the saltbox houses, which Vicki and I like.

Across the street from the Inn is a country store, which sells worms, sub sandwiches, and a variety of dry goods. Usually there are some salty locals sitting around drinking cups of Joe. One of them gave me a hard look yesterday and then made a joke about the Red Sox. He burst out laughing and patted my shoulder in a friendly way. I laughed in response, though I never heard what he said.

To Aspen Ski Co.

April 16, 2017

Dear Sirs:

I have been a regular skier at Snowmass for more than thirty years. It is my favorite area. My wife and I now stay at Snowmass Mountain Chalet, which we love.

My concern is one of safety. This year I was nearly hit on Upper Slot by a snowboarder, who was speeding straight down the slope. I was resting at the side of the trail, and he went between the woods and me. It was frightening.

With the advent of new equipment and a shorter learning curve, it seems skiers and riders are developing expertise quicker than we did in the days of leather boots and bear trap bindings.

I am advocating more energy be put on safety in all ski areas. Here are some suggestions.

1. More safety patrol people on the mountain. Take away skiing privileges from reckless skiers.
2. More safety education around the mountain.  This could be in the form of flyers, signs, and talks by ski ambassadors. Take some money off a lift ticket, if a person attends a safety lecture.
3. Publicize statistics about accidents. Where do they occur, how often, what time of day, etc.
4. Ski instructors should do some safety education as part of every lesson.

These are just a few ideas.

Sincerely yours,

David A. DiCicco
Del Mar, CA.

Some fun golf courses to play

1. The Crossings                      *
2. Balboa                                  *
3. Woods Valley                       **
4. Eagle Crest                           **
5. Carmel Mountain Ranch      *
6. Mt. Woodson                      **
7. Admiral Baker South          **


• Hard
**  Less hard

Sacramento Wedding

Stories from the Road
September 21, 2013

Clouds blanket the sky as I look out from my fifteenth floor hotel window on this Saturday morning. Rain is predicted, and bride to be Sarah Flocks is worried that the outdoor ceremony this afternoon will have to move indoors.

Last night we ate at The Water Boy, a restaurant about a mile from our hotel. Vicki and I had a delicious chicken dish, while Fred had lamb and Laura had lamb pasta. The food and service was very good. We walked back to the hotel past many eateries that were busy and lively. The area around the capitol reminded Vicki and me of Portland. It had high energy and fun places.

This morning we walked in the downtown area of Sacramento. It is run down and unattractive, though I understand a new stadium is planned for that area. The boutique areas seem to be near the capitol. We stopped by a farmer’s market, which was attractive and alluring. I sampled some aged cheddar cheese, which was delicious.  There were many homeless people in the downtown area. The homeless in all cities seem to walk the same way. They shuffle slowly and look around. They are people with nothing to do, and need help.

It did rain, and the ceremony moved indoors from the courtyard where it was to be. The bride and groom read their own vows, which were funny and poignant. The minister for the day, Sarah’s boss, was witty and articulate. It was a good moment. The groom, Colin Grinnell was handsome, confident, and attractive. He charmed all the guests. His parents live in Napa, and they brought some excellent wines. Though I don’t know much about wine, I do know, when one tastes good. Enough said.

Today we’ll walk more, before going to Sarah’s house for a brunch and then a trip to the airport. Vicki and I walked a few early morning miles and then went to Sara’s house for brunch. I met an interesting woman who knew my friend, Kevin O’Grady. She lived in Newton and was an old friend of Jay and Stella Flocks. She is the director of a non-profit that represents special education programs.  I would like to look her up, when we travel to Boston.

We are now in the Sacramento airport, which is modern, tasteful, and consumer friendly. We enjoyed our stay here. Several times we walked by P.F. Chang’s near the airport. I learned today that Jerry Brown has an apartment over the restaurant. He frequents the establishments in the neighborhood and frequently is spotted walking his dog in the local streets.

Roma

In September of 2006 my wife and I spent several days in Rome before and after a trip to the southern part of the country. We had been there before, so there wasn’t pressure to do organized touring to a place like the Vatican. We stayed at the Marriott on Via Veneto. Our location was central, and it was a short walk to the Spanish Steps and the city below. A typical day went like this.

The Marriott offered an excellent buffet breakfast. Meats and cheeses along with many fruits were available as were bacon and eggs, cappuccino, and wonderful hard rolls. Following breakfast at 7:30 we would head out to the city, usually starting at the Spanish Steps. There are wonderful shops below the Spanish Steps. The names of the world’s most famous designers such as Armani, Ferragamo, and Gucci can be found here. Most of the items for sale are too expensive to buy, but it’s fun to wander amongst the fashionable products and salespeople who always seem to be thin people dressed in black.

Rome is compact and easy to navigate on foot. It’s a walker’s paradise! After shopping, we often walked toward the Colosium. There are many interesting ruins along the way. One day we came to a cluster of churches which were hosting several weddings. The elegantly dressed Romans quickly became subjects for my digital camera, and I walked easily amongst the different wedding parties. One man even encouraged me to get in one of the pictures! At one point I inadvertently blocked the passage of the bride, and with genuine politeness she said, “Scusa me!”  How can you not love Italy?



Lunch choices were endless. They say you can’t get a bad meal in Italy, and though it isn’t entirely true, it’s close enough. There are thousands of little pizzerias and small restaurants in Rome serving excellent food. If we didn’t have a thin crusted pizza and salad, we often ordered pasta and freshly made bread. The Plaza Navarro was a favorite spot.


In the afternoons we walked again, often traveling to new parts of the city. Later in the afternoon we retreated to the Marriott for rest and emails. Each night the concierge founds us a new restaurant within walking distance of the hotel. His recommendations were excellent, and all the restaurants were reasonably priced and served wonderful food. Following a cocktail at 7:00 we walked to the Ristorante of the evening to eat pasta, fresh meets, and local vegetables.

Our days collapsed into each other with an abundance of taste, color, and city sounds. The Italian language becomes a kind of music unto itself, and it creates a context of passion wherever one goes. The most simple of conversations becomes operatic!


It is fun to get to know a city and feel comfortable in it. Italian people are friendly and spirited. They love food, wine, and color. Mid September is a good time to go to Rome because the air is cooler, and the city is less crowded. Don’t delay your visit!

The Salmon River

 

Salmon River Reflections

Floating with the river, cold and soft,

Golden meadows rising,

The eagle, bear, and moose,

Swim side by side,

Floating under the Idaho sun.

Rocks and water white, the current’s pull,

My yellow boat slipping, my heart electric,

Rocks and water, water and rocks,

Submerged like the steelhead under the Idaho

Paso Robles

Stories From the Road November 1, 2012

Paso Robles is enshrouded in moist fog this morning. Soon our group of 6 will meet at Vic’s restaurant, a retro breakfast Café in town. Last night we dined at Bistro Laurent. Once again we had an excellent meal accompanied by Fred’s knowledgeable selections. Vicki and I had lamb steak, which was delicious. Potato leek soup preceded my main course.

I was again impressed by the vitality and creativity of Paso Robles. Last night the streets were closed, and hundreds of children and parents walked from business to business, where staff handed out candy. Our servers at Bistro Laurent were young and professional. They were smart, educated about food and wine, and personable. They weren’t servers as much as restaurant professionals. In addition to taking orders they recommended and sold wines from the adjacent wine store, owned by the restaurant. In my mind they symbolized the whole region, which seems to have attracted young, ambitious, hard working young people.

This morning we ate for the second time at Vic’s Café, a café that hasn’t changed much since 1942, when it first opened. Jay and I had eggs, trout, and hashed brown for $8.95. How can you beat that?  We asked about Sandy Koufax, who was rumored to live in Paso Robles, and our efficient waitress told us about his ranch a few miles from town. Then it was time to say, goodbye. We drove south to Santa Barbara. Jay and Stella were returning to San Diego, and Laura and Fred drove to San Jose to catch a plane to Lindberg Field.

Vicki and I walked a few miles of streets today in Santa Barbara. We underwent culture shock, as the urban atmosphere of Santa Barbara couldn’t match the serenity of Pablo Robles. The city is a strange juxtaposition of poor people and the affluent. Homeless people with pit bulls hang out in front of Saks. I was glad to get back to my Courtyard Marriot, which was ten miles from Santa Barbara.

Our waiter tonight was out of bounds. He was superficially friendly, but his boundaries were poor. My sense was that he needed to find another job, get a girlfriend, or go to Europe for a while. My vongole and martini however were both good.

True grace

Moments of true grace are perhaps not that frequent. I can remember a few. A few years ago I was in Rome taking pictures. I wandered into a wedding taking place at a church near some ruins. I was snapping away, when the wedding party began to leave the church and walk toward me. I got in the bride’s way, and with consummate politeness, she said, “Scusa me”. I scurried away with great admiration for her.

In 1993 we were trekking in Nepal under the auspices of Mountain travel/Sobek, the adventure travel company. There were two retired professors from the University of Colorado in our group. This was a trip of a lifetime for them. One was 78 and one was 70. Several days into the trip the older man suffered heatstroke and made the decision to go back to Kathmandu with assigned porters from our group. His friend decided to accompany him, though he realized he would never come back to Nepal, a country he had dreamed visiting for many years.

 

While in college I began to feel I needed to do something else for a while. I decided to go to Florida and work for a winter. I know my parents thought it was a dumb idea, but they never stood in my way and helped me make the leave happen. They were worried, but they were very kind to me.

Leadership in the Wild

Over the years I have had the good fortune of going on numerous adventure travel trips on foot, bike, and kayak. I have had the opportunity to travel under a number of leadership styles. The customers on these trips have usually been American professional people, who love the outdoors. They are smart and responsible, but on vacation in a foreign country they readily put themselves in the hands of the trip leaders. Most of my trips have taken place in Europe, Asia, and South America. Of the fifteen or so leaders I have had I had, most were excellent. Three, Anna Bezzola, Sarah Quee, and Sergio were outstanding. So what makes a good leader on a hiking trip to Nepal or the Andes? Why is one leader more effective in The Dolomites of Northern Italy than another in the French Alps?  Having held a number of leadership positions, I have though a lot about this issue. I came up with a number of variables that seemed significant to me.






First and foremost leaders on these type trips need to be concerned about the safety of their charges. In Italy Anna Bezzola nearly called in a helicopter to fly out one of our group who fell and suffered a nasty gash on his head. In Nepal Sergio arranged for a 78 year old client to leave the trip, when he fell victim to heat exhaustion. They made crisp judgments in tense situations. One leader in the Dolomites hiked far ahead of the group, which was inexperienced. Vicki and I more or less guided the abandoned group for lengthy periods of time.


The best guides keep good boundaries between themselves and their clients.  Outstanding leaders like Anna and Sergio were friendly and down to earth, but they were authoritative in the best sense of the word. In Pakistan Sergio changed the exit route from the Baltoro Glacier, though he was highly pressured by the Pakistan guides not to do so. The new route meant more hassle for them, but it wasn’t safe in lieu of recent snow storms, and Sergio knew this. On a trip to the Andes, the Peruvian leader, who had been the first Peruvian to climb MT. Everest, was an excellent logistics person, but he lost control of the group, which was made up largely of younger professional people, who were inexperienced in the outdoors. In the end the group seriously fragmented as his efforts to accommodate everyone’s needs was counterproductive. He actually left the trip early to take out an “ill” trekker. We all knew there was nothing wrong with the trekker. He just got tired of the trip and wanted out. He had proved to be a braggart and self absorbed person. The leader should have let someone else take him out or insisted he finish the trip.

D.C.

Stories from the Road

October 30, 2014

Washington, D.C.

Fall moved quickly into Washington, D.C. today. The air was cool, but the sun shone brightly over the capital city. After breakfast at a local café, which reminded me of my post golf hang out, the Incredible Café in Rancho Bernado, we jumped on the metro and headed into the city, some three miles away.

The first stop was at the National Art Gallery, which was featuring a three hundred painting exhibit by Andrew Wyeth. Vicki and I were excited to see this exhibit, as Andrew Wyeth has long been one of our favorite artists. We went to a large exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts of his work in 1970. However, the lines were long, and it wasn’t an ideal setting to view the paintings. Here there were no lines, and the galleries were nearly empty.

Andrew Wyeth’s father, N.C. Wyeth, was a famous illustrator, and Andrew’s son Jaime is a well-regarded artist in his own right. Andrew’s paintings are about life in Chadd’s Ford Pennsylvania and Cushing, Maine, the two places he lived. He liked to paint the same objects like windows and houses over and over because as the light and the seasons changed, the objects in his eye became radically different. Typically he would be inspired by the way he saw something. He would sketch feverishly, so he would remember the moment. Then he would spend months alone making the painting. He said he was only happy, when he was painting in solitude.

Next we set out to walk to a photography museum that Google Maps indicated was a few miles up Constitution Avenue. We probably walked more than that, but found no museum, though we did stumble upon George Washington University, which seemed to be an interesting place. On the way back we passed the White House with a few demonstrators in front. Some seemed to be mentally ill. Security was tight, and a cute bomb-sniffing dog was checking out White House visitors.

Tonight we will have dinner with Vicki’s brother, who lives in the area. Have a good evening.