Books and other stuff I feel like discussing
By education and experience - Accountant with a specialty in taxation. Formerly a CPA (license has lapsed). Masters degree in law of taxation from University of Denver. Now retired. Part time work during baseball season as receptionist & switchboard operator for the Colorado Rockies. This gig feeds my soul in ways I have trouble articulating. One daughter, and four grandchildren. I share the house with two cats; a big goof of a cat called Grinch (named as a joke for his easy going "whatever" disposition); and Lady, a shelter adoptee with a regal bearing and sweet little soprano voice. I would be very bereft if it ever becomes necessary to keep house without a cat.
Mood:
Reminiscing
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Last year - this week
During the early summer months of 2005, the travel pages of the local newspapers and various consumer guides were cautioning against letting too many frequent flier awards build up in one's airline account. Realizing that I had quite a few, I offhandedly remarked one morning - "Where should we go?"
A couple of days later we had two tickets to Zurich at a cost of various "fees" totaling less than $100, a hotel booked in Venice, and cross the Alps airline tickets on Swissair.
It was a wonderful week. By sheer dumb luck, we had found ourselves a quiet, modern hotel in what used to be a monastery, then a gondola workshop. Our window looked out on the San Alvise canal, quiet and residential.
The latest issue of National Geographic Traveler magazine proclaims Venice as one of the most endangered vacation spots in the world, and comments that "only tourists live there." While I certainly agree that the city faces huge problems related to its site on a series of marshy islands in a rising lagoon, others besides tourists live there. We were tourists living among them for a week. We saw schools, soccer fields, shops selling underwear and running shoes, medical clinics, pharmacies, dancing classes, and so on.
We did very little in the way of "touristy" things - no ride in a gondola, no meal in a glitzy overpriced restaurant, no feeding pigeons. Instead, we invested in a set of one week tourist passes for the public transportation system (all by boat) and rode back and forth on the canals and across the lagoon and back whenever and wherever our inclination took us.
We had a marvelous refuge in our hotel room - modern, low key, with an item unique to hotel rooms - a comfortable bed. We ate dinner in a restaurant we recalled from a one day stop during a cruise we took in 1990. It was just as we remembered it and it was a pleasure to return. I persuaded Mr Woodstock to take a tour of the renovated opera house La Fenice. The title translates to "The Phoenix" in English, and although the title dates back at least several hundred years, it now has a particularly apt meaning. About 6 years ago, during a minor renovation the entire opera house was destroyed by arson. The tour was fascinating and my reluctant companion enjoyed it so much he trailed our guide back to the employee break room, startling the employees chatting there, to tell our guide in person how much he enjoyed the trip.
It was a marvelous week, made more enjoyable by the somewhat furtive character engendered by the last minute nature of the plans in the first place. And although I told myself it was my last trip to Venice - the couple of hours at La Fenice, tramping through the main floor, sitting in the royal box, gazing at the opulent chandeliers, have fueled a desire to go back and see an opera there. I have my eye on an Elderhostel trip which would include exactly that.
Stay tuned.
For those who are interested, you can see our photographs at this link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/apwoodstock/
Woodstock
A couple of days later we had two tickets to Zurich at a cost of various "fees" totaling less than $100, a hotel booked in Venice, and cross the Alps airline tickets on Swissair.
It was a wonderful week. By sheer dumb luck, we had found ourselves a quiet, modern hotel in what used to be a monastery, then a gondola workshop. Our window looked out on the San Alvise canal, quiet and residential.
The latest issue of National Geographic Traveler magazine proclaims Venice as one of the most endangered vacation spots in the world, and comments that "only tourists live there." While I certainly agree that the city faces huge problems related to its site on a series of marshy islands in a rising lagoon, others besides tourists live there. We were tourists living among them for a week. We saw schools, soccer fields, shops selling underwear and running shoes, medical clinics, pharmacies, dancing classes, and so on.
We did very little in the way of "touristy" things - no ride in a gondola, no meal in a glitzy overpriced restaurant, no feeding pigeons. Instead, we invested in a set of one week tourist passes for the public transportation system (all by boat) and rode back and forth on the canals and across the lagoon and back whenever and wherever our inclination took us.
We had a marvelous refuge in our hotel room - modern, low key, with an item unique to hotel rooms - a comfortable bed. We ate dinner in a restaurant we recalled from a one day stop during a cruise we took in 1990. It was just as we remembered it and it was a pleasure to return. I persuaded Mr Woodstock to take a tour of the renovated opera house La Fenice. The title translates to "The Phoenix" in English, and although the title dates back at least several hundred years, it now has a particularly apt meaning. About 6 years ago, during a minor renovation the entire opera house was destroyed by arson. The tour was fascinating and my reluctant companion enjoyed it so much he trailed our guide back to the employee break room, startling the employees chatting there, to tell our guide in person how much he enjoyed the trip.
It was a marvelous week, made more enjoyable by the somewhat furtive character engendered by the last minute nature of the plans in the first place. And although I told myself it was my last trip to Venice - the couple of hours at La Fenice, tramping through the main floor, sitting in the royal box, gazing at the opulent chandeliers, have fueled a desire to go back and see an opera there. I have my eye on an Elderhostel trip which would include exactly that.
Stay tuned.
For those who are interested, you can see our photographs at this link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/apwoodstock/
Woodstock
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