In my office is a quote -- "The constitution only gives people the right to pursue happiness. You have to catch it yourself" Ben Franklin. In my profession, that can be a hard to do sometimes. My grandmother said I was happiest when I was planning a trip, going on one, and coming home from one. That is my passion - traveling, meeting new people, hanging out with old friends, experiencing new things and learning lots.
I am trying to incorporate my favorite hobby into a new form of work. I took a travel writing class (not that it "took" as we say down here) and my travel writing instructor said that my writing could benefit from me writing a blog. So that is one of the reasons I started this blog on my last trip. Also, I know I need more practice and that is why I am going to continue my blog. I might be in a lovely blue green office located in the sweltering south (my a/c is working right now). I am going to blog about my previous trips, starting with my trip last year to Croatia and Italy, which changed my perspective on a lot of things. I learned to say "no" and "yes" at the right times (or so I thought). Most of my friends and family, who are reading this have heard all about my trip anyway, but they got the overview. I will try to describe it in a little more detail and from a practicing writer's standpoint.
My travel buddy, thankfully, probably will not be reading this so any misstatements I make can't be corrected anyway. :)
Prologue - the background:
In the fall of 1996, right after I survived graduate school, I worked/interned in London and met some very interesting characters. The first person I met was a lovely Chinese lady (or so I thought -- It's kind of like me, I look normal and then I open my mouth and Scarlett O'Hara pops out). Sweet Wai, opened her mouth and Eliza Doolittle showed up. I loved her immediately. She was so different than anyone I had known before. I never knew anyone from London's East End and she was a working "City Girl". Very posh, stylish, in charge and feminist for me. She had a house in Essex and made us curry and had dinner parties. Her partner chucked it all to go to acting school (I don't think she ended up with him). She knew her way around London like a pro. Took me to street markets no one has ever heard of (I bought shirts and boots on the street with her). I thought she was one cool cat, like the popular girls in school you wanted to hang out with.
Then there was the Welshman. He was a dear. He looked like a professor, he had short reddish hair and a reddish goatee and wore tweed. He was very smart and knew all the big words. Just what you would expect someone from the UK to be like. He made sure I knew he was from Wales (like I would know the difference or not). On my first day at work, he and the "boys" took me immediately to the "bank" (ie we went down to O'Neills Pub, as I don't drink then nor now, beer, I had a half pint of cider -- yummy). He made bank runs frequently. He had a little issue with that, but a better hearted person you wouldn't find. He loved to give advice and to a fresh out of school American he had an apt pupil. What area of town to live in, where to go eat, what to go see, etc. When I left they even gave me a going away party at his little flat. Sadly, he has since died. I sent him Christmas cards up until then and got an email with the sad news.
The Kiwi and the Italian, they were the "boys". We would go to eat quite a bit together during our lunch time (when weren't filling out stupid time sheets for the bosses in Italy -- normally they said we "perused" a file -- I had never "perused" anything until London) and go out after work as well. Wai christened them Savage (in his three piece suit) and Dodgy (in his hunting coat). Savage, the youngest in the office, and from New Zealand had savage ways she said. Dodgy was from Italy and had the Italian cosmopolitan ways.
Savage, who became a good friend and later a travel partner (ie on two Italian adventures), worked in the office with me. He would sit over at his desk and assist me in rewriting my letters (because I am too wordy and was learning to be professional -- this was my first "real" job). He had curly brown hair, funny brown eyes and a wicked Cheshire grin -- like he was always up to something. He worked on contracts and other "British" issues. He fashioned himself the ladies man and always had a few "birds" on the line, as he liked to call them. We hit a few of the tourist sites (I drug him, he would never have known the Temple of Mithras was around the corner from our office without me). He introduced me to London Aussie nightlife and to proper "English" (tried to tell me how to speak properly -- France can be pronounced many different ways I learned, just like tomato.)
Dodgy, who also became a friend, worked in the next office. He had the problem of dealing with the Italy (main office) and translations (he spoke and read English fluently)-- so he did real work. Translating and dealing with the Italian clients was his main focus. He was very outgoing and sweet tempered. He had a great sense of humor and laughed a lot (mostly at what I said or did -- I guess they all laughed a lot at what I might have said or did, I was quite the country bumpkin in the big city). He was a very nice guy who ended up marrying a Scottish girl and working for Amnesty International (a calling I guess) and remaining in the British Isles. A big change for a young man from the beautiful ancient city of Venice.
My other office mate wasn't there the day I got there, she only worked part time -- Helen. She was this beautiful, exotic English girl. She was petite and had blonde hair, a quick wit, and big blue eyes. In the US, she would have been the life of the party. She was fluent in Italian, which I so admired - me speaking my own version of English. She had the confidence to lead an army it appeared to me. I am good friends with her today and she still amazes me with her life and free spirit and energy (I don't know how she does it all). She is one of those people that you know can do anything (kind of like my mom). She worked mainly doing Italian translations. One time she drove us all across Tower Bridge at night coming home from a dinner party (what a cool experience, one of the first times I had ridden on the left side of the road and not been in a taxi).
We also had a few other office workers with us -- a sweet beautiful Venetian girl who was somewhat proficient in English, but a little flaky. She meant well. This was one of her first jobs also. The other girl was cut from a different cloth and from many different countries. She had been sent by the main office, I suspected she was there to spy on us (as I became an expert at perusing and Minesweeper, maybe they were right to have a "spy" in our midst). I did have an interesting day with her when they "pimped" us out (ie made us go all dressed up and networking) at the Milan Chamber of Commerce meeting in a posh hotel. She knew how to work a room and get contacts for sure, I guess you call her a rainmaker.
I was only in London for a short time for some training in International Business, but I had a grand time. My travel buddy was a bear of a guy from Lodi, California (yes, just like the Eagles song). He had the best heart and was a hoot. He was tall and had a strawberry blonde bushy beard. I was never in fear with him. He was built like a linebacker but he had a great smile and was a big teddy bear. He and I would meet up in the evening to visit and go on day trips to see the countryside (saw where Charles Dickens was from and in the workhouse). He was a great London companion to have too.
I start my Croatia/Italy blog this way because my travel buddy on that trip was Savage and we met up with Helen and her family in Italy....
Prologue 2 would be a whole other blog on our first Italian Adventure in Big Pimpin' and my New Zealand trip -- a journey to Middle Earth... But I only give this prologue to set the scene for the Croatia/Italian trek or what I termed "How I melted in Italy" (it was troppo caldo the whole time)......
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