First off, Ann has a cold and cough that sounds more like noise coming from a tuberculosis ward of active patients. She is a trooper but not her sparkling self. Why now?

Second, we get to the Seattle Airport to find we have reservations for the SAS flight but with booked seat assignments only for the return leg NONE for the outward leg. I made these reservations in December! Who only gets seat assignments for the return? I think this is a rare case where I am not a fault. This means that instead of the aisle-window configuration I booked months ago we will now be sitting in different rows of five across seating between burly people who do not feel it necessary to use deodorant since they will only be sitting for nine hours.

But wait. The manager of SAS check in comes over and pounds on the computer for what seems like much too long and gives us aisle-window seats together with upgrades to Economy Extra (meaning more room). Not only that but we later find out these are bulkhead seats with enough legroom to use as a dance floor since no seats are in front of us. Life is suddenly very good. Except there was no sleeping on the plane. Ann is coughing and miserable. The Denzel Washington - Jody Foster movie is only good to waste 100 minutes. I read 175 pages of my book about a comedy writer and TV producer whose wife buys a house in Tuscany. She then makes him move to Tuscany after giving up his career. I am now getting very scared. I like it in Woodinville.

Wait I have no career.

Then we land in Copenhagen and the real adventure begins. We are still in the secured area after deplaning. Going to our connecting flight, never leaving the secure area, we must go through security check AGAIN. We have a 45 minute connection to make, the plane is a little late, the line is long and the gate is miles away. Ann tells me to go ahead since her knees will need to be personally scanned due to the implants. But it is me who was delayed by having my backpack contents re-scanned. I wait; Ann goes ahead. I finally get my re-scanned backpack and race to passport control only to realize my bag feels much too light. I go back to security. Security has taken many things out of my bag and not replaced them. I yell across a barrier if my stuff is there – my lifeblood called my digital SLR, computer battery and other manner of stuff that was never replaced was being kept by them since I did not get it. They gave it back but I became angry at them. They became angry at me. Just when I was ready to continue this easily winnable argument (it was their fault not mine that I will miss the next flight) I decided to try to catch the flight anyhow rather than give them an earful and probably then be forced to undergo a full cavity search. It is next to impossible to give up on a winnable argument, isn’t it Laurel?

The next eight minutes were a blur as I raced through the terminal looking like a freaky speed walker on performance enhancing drugs. I put moves on unsuspecting travelers that an NFL tailback would appreciate. The gate I had to achieve before 2:10 (14:10 over here) was the last one at the end of the wing that was as far from our arrival gate as it could be. I arrived at the last boarding. We were off to Frankfurt! I was sweaty, tired and angry. Ann was coughing.

Let me spoil this next part. Things did not get better. Coming into the terminal from security at the Frankfurt Airport to meet the lease car representative – we didn’t. He was not there. Luckily my new European mobile phone was put to use and it worked. I was told that we had to walk another several hundred meters to the Holiday Inn Express Shuttle bus stop with all of our luggage in tow and take the shuttle to that hotel. I don’t think I mentioned the temperature was approaching 90 degrees and the humidity was certainly approaching 90 percent. Did I mention that Ann had no wind from her severe chest cold? It was now about 26 hours since we had slept. We were spent.

The pick up of the lease car went perfectly. It took two signatures and a quick tour of the car. We were off on the nine mile drive to the hotel I had booked and prepaid. The nine miles took 30 minutes (Traffic) through rural suburban small towns. We got to the hotel, BUT - the hotel was shut up with the hotel sign taken down. There was only a note on the door with the dreaded German word: Geslossen. Which means loosely translated, “Out of business and you are screwed, Parrishes.” Orbitz.com is not on my good list at the moment but they will give me my 57 Euros back – I hope.

We drove back to the aforementioned Holiday Inn Express, rented a room there for less than the price of the closed hotel (because we picked up the car there – a discount program I was not aware of existed) walked to an Italian restaurant, had mediocre German Pizza, came back and fell asleep.

It is now 4 am – thanks jet lag. I am wide awake and pleading with the clock to get it to 5:45 am so I can go down and get some coffee. We both snickered at check in last night when the clerk said that breakfast starts at 5:45.

After a morning of seeing in this beautiful Baroque city, virtually unchanged for centuries, we bought lunch at the supermarket below the Square of the Republic and brought it home. I am eating a prepared sandwich of various sausages and cold deli type meats of unknown origin from a pig, steer or who knows what animal. To accent this there is a generous helping of mayonnaise. Also an asparagus spear, a broccoli floret and some red bell pepper were present. There was also a small dill pickle in there somewhere. My side dish was a bag of Lay’s potato chips – bacon flavored. Fortunately it is all being washed down with a half liter of Pilsner Urquell (for $0.95). How Eastern European does that lunch sound? Just like Pacific Northwest Fusion cuisine, right?

The weather has degenerated. Last night it poured for a while. Today it is cooler, windy and rain threatening. Temperature yesterday approached 90; today it might hit the low 60s. Guess which one of us is happy about that?

Ann is not able to make the train trip to Podebrady today. After walking across town to meet Zdenek she was completely exhausted and coughing up a lung. We rescheduled the train trip until tomorrow and I took her back to the apartment. The sick and tired lady then slept until the next morning. I ventured out on the town during the afternoon. I went through the town seeing all of the sights I had seen in my previous three times in this city. Doing this I realized Ann was not missing anything and the reason for stopping here was to see dear Zdenek again.

I met Z for dinner at 6:00 sans Ann. I returned back five hours later. We had a great evening. We walked around town with Z giving me a historical and personal perspective of his city. We stopped in at an underground pub for a velky pivo [large beer] which was $1.25 so Z would drink there. With the use of a Czech-English dictionary we were able to converse quite nicely. After the Pilsner Urquell we went to dinner at U Medvidku which means “At the little bear” – I don’t know why. We both had what was translated as Granny’s Sirloin. Now with the “beef is expensive in this country” attitude the meal consisted of two small medallions of beef about ¼ inch thick on a plate of gravy with five knedliky or dumplings. On the beef was a thin layer of cowberrys (I don’t know but like sour cranberry sauce), a little lemon curd with a thin sliced disk of lemon then a whipped cream dollop on the top.

Oddly it was spectacular and it was not just because we had two more large beers at the restaurant. These beers were Budweiser from Budweis. The #2 beer in the Czech Republic, much lighter and sweeter than Pilsner Urquell and is, in my opinion, not as full flavored.

Upon arriving back at the apartment, Ann was still in bed but hungry and wanted me to get some food. She noticed immediately that I did not have the black waterproof wind shirt I had when I left. So, back on the metro to again ride the rails. Once more with no ticket since only coins could be used to buy tickets from the machine (I did not have enough coin money but plenty of bills), no ticket seller was open and no store would make change for me. At the restaurant the wind shirt still lay on the bench next to the couple with whom we shared the dinner table. They were on their fifth large beers by my reckoning. Impressive. On the way back from the third metro ride in an hour (without ticket again) I had now beaten the “system” out of 14 X 3 Czech koruna (about $1.10) and risk fines of $100 each time. Who says I don’t gamble. I stopped at a pizza restaurant near our apartment as it was closing and got the dear sick lady some grub - a pizza with a fried egg on top.

We awoke to blue skies and warm temperatures. I got Ann and me a cappuccino and croissant to-go at the bakery downstairs and brought it up to the apartment. I met Z at the appointed tram station at the appointed time and off we went to get the car. The car was there undamaged. We paid the reasonable rate and started the car.

Let me digress. In Prague and in the entire Czech Republic car lights must be turned on 24 hours a day while driving. On Thursday on the way to the car park Z had me turn them on. Can you fill in the rest of the story?? Let me just say that the car does not have automatic headlight turn off. To say the battery was drained would be kind. Turning the key produced not a sound.

Fortunately that same sinister Eastern European guarding the cars had jumper cables. In the Czech Republic one apparently cannot just ask another person if he has jumper cables and could he please jumpstart the car. A meeting of the minds had to occur between Z and the sinister looking Eastern European. I guess much had to be discussed about the relative position of the jumping car, the fact that the car was French, the fact it was a diesel, etc, etc. FINALLY off went the sinister Eastern European then to get the other car. It took a full 15 minutes before anything on the dashboard would even light up then another 20 minutes of charging before car would actually start.

All turned out well. We got on our way and the sinister Eastern European got a tip big enough to take his family for a very nice dinner; He was so nice and helpful. He wished nothing in return for his troubles but took the gift reluctantly. Parking the car for three days cost $15. I gave him $13 for his work. Never was money better spent.

Z and I got back to the apartment fearing stalling the car with the standard transmission would initiate our problems all over again. (Can you push-start a manual transmission diesel?) We picked up Ann and the luggage at the apartment, drove Z home and we were on our way to Vienna.

We stopped for lunch at a lake in the southern Czech Republic. It was Sunday afternoon and families were having their afternoon supper on the terrace overlooking the lake. The warm sun, the lake, the families with little children and the complete lack of English made this a delightful meal. We had Czech money to spend before entering Austria and ate soup, the most expensive entrée, wine, desert and espressos but could not spend over $24. This reminded us of 1971 when we were forced to buy Czech money at the border but paid for our stay with the family of Z’s friends in hard currency. Then, too, we had to spend like “Americans” although this time we could have exchanged the currency.

We arrived in Vienna at Josef’s apartments where we had stayed two years ago. I happened to make reservations for October not September by mistake. It had to do with using the American sequence of dating rather than the European – 10/09/2006 and 09/10/2006. Joseph had one apartment available anyhow for two of the three days so we were saved from my idiocy again! Well saved 2/3 of the way.

This evening is a quiet one – finally. I went to an internet café to reacquaint with my long-lost American friends. Still full from our enormous (for us) meal at the lake, we will sleep long and hard tonight. Oh and by the way, I had Goulash soup and pig’s knuckle for lunch this afternoon. Only in Eastern Europe does that sound the least interesting. No dinner needed tonight. Guten nacht.

Vienna sucks. As much as I hate to say this and as much as I have tried to like this city, Vienna sucks. It seems that each time I have been in Vienna I was in Prague just before. It is just not a fair comparison. Prague is so delightful and Vienna is so full of busy people running around madly. After a couple of palaces to be viewed, there is little to see. The cathedral is second class; there is no castle. It is just a city restored after WWII. Baroque, yes but after that what else is there to see?

The final straw for this anti Vienna tirade was the morning visit to the Belvedere and the Karl’s Kirche. Seemed like a nice morning. First the Kirche was in the process of restoration but there was an elevator up into the cupola which we could use. It cost $8 each to get into the church. When we entered this supposedly beautiful baroque church it looked like an erector set was set up inside. The elevator took us to the cupola and I went up another hundred feet on the scaffolding stairs to the very top to get the advertised fantastic panorama of the city. After reaching the top the view was through little portholes with no real view. Good cardio workout anyhow.

We left without being able to see the church itself or the panorama. I suppose we helped pay for the restoration with our $16 “donation”. Then we walked for unending blocks to get to the beautiful gardens of the Belvedere. The grand view between the palaces was what I had looked forward to seeing. It was completely torn up with chain link fences and large piles of dirt to prevent any views of this disaster. We got back to the hotel where I was looking forward to the free wireless internet I was promised. Well, apparently “free” means you have to sign up for a TMobile account and pay twice as much as at an internet café. Vienna really sucks.

For dinner we went to a Russian restaurant that we had seen advertised on the wall of a building near the hotel, Wladimir’s Restaurant. I was not really interested since, you know, Vienna sucks, but Ann picked a winner here. After we each ordered 0,4 cl of Stoly I warmed to the restaurant - literally. We were the only people there. The owner, Wladimir, took us through the menu which was written only in German and Russian with reluctance but Ann insisted. He warmed to us when he and Ann began discussing what the entrees were and how they were made. The meal was outstanding. After dinner he suggested a digestive wine which turned out to be the same Medevina wine made from honey (English: Mead wine) which we had tried in Podebrady. He asked if we were both teachers and even told us a joke he translated from Russian. Wladimir is from Byelorussia and had been in Austria for 16 years. After dinner he asked us about how he could better promote his restaurant and how we found him. Ann has taken this as her personal challenge, using the internet, to let the world know about Wladimir. The night became truly delightful.

Today we walked to Salzburg Castle and took the funicular up to the top. The day was beautiful and hot, the views were magnificent. It was a day for taking pictures. We spent the entire morning there seeing everything. We had our morning coffee on the ramparts of the castle looking out to the opposite side of the mountain from Salzburg. That made the $3 cappuccinos a bargain. Down in the city for a late lunch I had a beer and Ann had a Sacher Torte. We were both happy. After a cruise on the Salz River we stumbled back to our Hotel Mozart after 4 pm dead tired from the heat and humidity and fun.

I went to the store to get wine for me, Coke Light for her and chips for us. [You can take the boy out of America but you can’t take America out of the boy] I bought chili flavored corn chips. Now here is a lesson on European chili flavored corn chips. It is better to bring the Tostitos from home. But in a crunch, a chip is, in reality, a chip and good.

My cold is now descending upon me in earnest. My throat is sore and I am beginning to cough. This is much like the Plague in the Middle Ages (I won’t die, though). I was waiting to “get it”. I “got it”. In two days we will be in our apartment for four weeks and can take a vacation from our vacation from retirement.

For dinner Ann found one of the oldest continuously serving restaurants in Europe. It was originally a dining hall for the monks of the St. Peter’s Church and served travelers. The first meal was placed in front of a customer in 803.

Our bathroom is 6 feet square with a completely tiled floor and walls with one large window. There is a toilet and a sink. In the corner is a shower curtain around a flexible-hose shower head. The floor of the entire room is continuous with one drain in the middle if the floor. Now showering requires a fixed shower head so TWO hands can be used for soap and cleaning of ones body parts. With one hand on the shower head and one hand with soap there is no other hand to be found to use. I am one hand short. Plus, losing focus on the shower head in my hand while soaping (with my one other hand) the water shoots everywhere even beyond the curtain and the entire room is soaking wet. I then must dry off with a towel that makes a postage stamp look huge. By the time I finished showering I was exhausted and wanted to go back to bed.

After breakfast we went to the Saturday market behind the Cathedral two blocks away. Ann was in heaven. A larger open air market of fantastic fresh fruit, vegetables, meats, nuts and just about everything in season I had never seen. She did not miss her weekly trek to the Redmond Saturday Market back home. Ann had $20 worth of Slovenian SIT and after loading her bag with fresh stuff she was hard pressed to spend all of the money so we bought two sandwiches for $2.50 and that used all of our funny money. We filled up on groceries because we would not arrive at our apartment in Montepulciano until late Saturday and on Sunday everything is closed.

I was so sad to leave Ljubljana. We both agreed that this place is on the “come back list”.

We entered Italy to a new excitement that our vacation was now officially beginning. After a seven hour drive which included a dead stop of over an hour waiting for no apparent reason in a mass of lines to go through a toll plaza and several other complete turn off your engine stops on the autostrada for no apparent reason, we knew we were in Italy. The total toll on the autostrada was over $25. Yipes!

We did not know it at the time but our adventure for this day had not even peeked its head above the horizon as yet.

What I am to say now can never be repeated. I mean this. Ann and I managed to take stupid to another plateau that even I did not know existed. Now, Ann was only a minor player in this drama but she did contribute.

The rain on the road to Montepulciano was torrential at times. It made Florida downpours look like a Seattle mist. Italians parked on the side of the road to let the tropical depression pass. Not us but that was not the problem. Until we missed our turnoff to Montepulciano where our apartment is located due to not being able to see two car lengths ahead, we were looking good. After missing that turnoff our luck soured – dramatically.

Coming in from a different direction than I had ever used before, we got to the town and followed the map to our apartment. We could not find the roads since there really is no such thing as a street sign in the entire realm of Italy. We drove around lost. Then we drove back to the main gate and started over again. Still lost. Nothing was right. Ann called Giacomo, our landlord, and told him we were in Montepulciano. He said forget about the map and just drive straight through the old front gate of the city and enter the old center of town where cars are not allowed. If you are stopped just ignore anyone and continue up the hill to the apartment. We tried this twice never getting stopped but never finding the roads to the apartment. Ann and I were not happy campers at the moment and I think the word divorce may have been uttered at some point by one of us! Ann then suggested the impossible. I commend her for even daring to mention this aloud to me. I swear this is true (Remember the never tell part? OK? Then read on). She asked if this was the right town. Damn! Damn! This was not Montepulciano but another hill town, Chianciano.

We were only off by 8 kilometers! It was raining, you know, poor visibility and all. So we drove to the correct town, sheepishly. All Tuscan hill towns look alike to dumb Americans but I had been to our town TWICE previously.

I would like to say our fun was over for the (now) evening. But I cannot. We had the directions up the back way (legal way) to the apartment but decided to go the easy way, the illegal way, because Giacomo said we could. Montepulciano cannot be entered by car unless a resident with a permit or commercial deliveries. Noone else may drive in this pedestrian town. Well, we got about one block up the main street before a policeman in his car blocked the road and shook his finger at us. Ann tried to explain but he would have none of it and got out of his car and came toward us. Dear Ann masterfully confused him to the point of his saying in Italian something like, “Follow me you idiotic Americans”. He then led us in his police car to the front door of our apartment!

The landlord’s agent, Maurizio, met us in front of the apartment as we arrived. After many thanks to the officer he left. Ann said that the policeman was her new best friend. To which Maurizio, curtly said, “I don’t think so”.

All is well that ends well some famous writer once said. We are in the apartment (It’s perfect). Ann cooked her first meal (It was perfect). We are exhausted physically and mentally. It’s time for bed. We are here! Buono Notte.