Prep has different meanings

For the past few weeks, I have been checking out vacation rentals, car rentals, train schedules, plane tickets and a myriad of trip details.  However, I forgot one very important detail -- me.

Ready to go?

I had just started to relax and enjoy the anticipation of our "Grand Tour" when my body decided to show me who was boss.

Two weeks ago, my appendix decided to rupture. Only I, not the sharpest knife in the drawer, thought it was food poisoning.  After a week of not feeling so well, my appendix let me know it was time to pay attention.  So, one trip to Emergency, several scans and one inserted drain later, I was faced with the possibility of trying to schedule an appendectomy before setting off to Europe.

Got to admit that the family came through for me. Words cannot express how grateful I am for everyone helping out.

However, it seems that God does have a sense of humour and was just kidding.  It appears that doctors no longer remove your appendix just because it pops. After all, what's the worse that could happen ??? Oh, it already ruptured. So let's just leave it be.
 
In any case, plans are back on track and travel books are being read. Now if only I could use the iPad properly. But that's for another day.

Three weeks 'til take-off.

Preparations for the Grand Tour (delayed)

It is strange that when one first starts out to write, you never know what to say. Or how to say it.  Writer’s block, or the onset of ‘some-timers’, I don’t know.  Maybe it is the wine, or the lack of it.  (And, yes, that will be a recurring theme in this blog, so some “Smartie” will be sure to start counting the number of times I refer to libations.  It should prove interesting. By the way, that’s 1.)

In any case, back to the travels.  Of course, the bloody voyage hasn’t begun yet.  But sometime I imagine that it has.  I’m been so immersed in the travel details, and making sure that everyone has their money at the same time, that I wonder what country I am in.  But I’m still here, in Canada, in Toronto; tidying up details -- like buying an iPad to record my travels, pictures, and to act as a GPS; planning which clothes will fit in my suitcase; and oh, yes, buying the appropriate footwear -- shoes, more shoes, and still more shoes.

Some people have a ‘bucket list’, I have a shoe list -- shoes I must obtain before I get too old and fall off of the heels.  My next mission is to buy an honest-to-goodness pair of Italian shoes in Italy from an Italian shoe store.

And that is the reason for this voyage. Just kidding! (Hmmm)

Looks so innocent, doesn't she.

Preparations for a trip are always interesting, shall we say.   Mom always says that she doesn’t care where we go, that I can decide, and then makes suggestions ("You know, dear, Vienna is very close to Venice and I’ve always wanted to show you Vienna.  I have always thought it was a very beautiful city- even prettier and more impressive than Versailles.") 

In reality, Vienna is not that close - 8 hours by train/bus.

Did you know that you cannot take a day train from Vienna to Venice? You can take a night train -- check out the magnificent views; or you can take a train to the Austrian border and then transfer to a bus - an Italian bus - driven by an Italian ex-Grand Prix driver named Mario, through the mountains (are they still called the Alps on that side?). I must check to see if my travel insurance covers death by paralyzing fear of little Italian roads with no guardrails between me and drops of 500 metres or more ??????  Or would that be a claim under medical.   Must check that out.  Or better still, make sure I have sampled the local wine (that’s 2) at lunch and no longer care.

In truth and in fact, we decided to go to Vienna because, Austrian Airlines had the best prices, and according to Mike, their own personal chef on each flight. So, Mom and I sacrificed personal comfort for superb food and great wine (that’s 3). 

Life on the way to Europe can be so grand.  Especially when you are on your Grand Tour.