We woke up excited today after a much needed sleep – today’s the day we meet our friend Bella for dinner!

We started the day with another delicious breakfast at Il Poggiolo delle Rose – and I tried two new things – green apple yogurt (continuing the theme) and vanilla tea – both really good, by the way.

After breakfast, we sat down with our hosts to plan out visits to the Accademia and Uffizio later this week. It’s all a bit complicated.

We can either pay for them a la carte, which costs about 30 Euro plus bus fares, which requires reservations in advance to guarantee getting in, and which must be made by midnight tonight (Saturday) because the ticket office by phone is closed Sunday and Monday.

Or we can buy a 72 hour pass to all the museums, which costs 50 Euro, and lets us get into any of the museums without a wait or reservations. But we have to buy it before 7 tonight when that office closes,and we won’t arrive in central Florence until maybe 6:30 PM.

Or we can wait until after dinner – from 9 PM until 2 AM, the museums are free – it’s a once-in-a-while thing.. But there are likely to be thousands of tourists waiting to get in.

The three day pass seemed best, until we learned that both the Uffizi and Academia are closed on Mondays – it’s a common thing here.

Vedremo – we will see.

We arrived in Lucca around 11:30, and, per fortuna, found parking right away. We set off down one of the streets of this beautiful walled city.

On the way, we spotted these two boys riding a bicycle together in a rather Cirque-du-Soliel fashion – bumping up and down on the cobblestones without losing their balance.  And the kid in the back even has a can of soda in his hand!  Amazing.  Oh, to be young and stupid again.

We also ran across several groups of students using an old-fashioned camera to take photos of the city – we guess it must have been part of some class project. Must be a great way to learn the basics of how photography works.

We intended to take it slow today, to fare una passaggiata – just walk and wander. But Marco insisted that we visit a few choice sites first, and he was proven right when the rain came later in the day.

First up, we found our way to the Anfiteatro, the site of an old Roman forum that’s now the centro storico’s largest piazza. The piazza is ringed with restaurants with outdoor seating and cute little shops, and its circular shape makes for some beautiful photos.

Next, we visited one of Lucca’s many towers, the Torre Giungi. This tower is distinguished by the oak trees that grow from planters atop the tower, and costs just 4 Euro to climb.

The ascent is a little shorter than the towers we visited in Siena and San Gimignano, but the views are gorgeous, looking out over historic Lucca and the countryside beyond.

Italian Marco and climbed the tower for some photos while Mark and Fabry waited below.  Even in the grey weather, the city of Lucca was beautiful below us.

By now, it was apparent that the rains were on the way as the sky began to look more leaden and oppressive. We hurried on to the Basilica di S.Frediano, took a quick peek inside, and headed back the way we’d come.  There was also a big swap-meet style open air market in front of the Basilica.

We reached the Anfiteatro and Marco went on for the umbrellas from the car, while the three of us found a cute little restaurant to order some gelato – this was to be our only lunch, as we had plans for a huge meal with our friend Bella that night.

But hunger got the better of us, and we ordered a little more. Not too much – we split a margherita pizza between the four of us, one slice each, along with a few french fries, and them some gelato. We sat at a cute red and white checkered table, feeling very Italian, and I took the opportunity to play with the single color setting on our camera.

As we ate, the rain came down, sparingly at first, but by the time we finished eating, it was coming down full-force.

Grateful for the umbrellas, we hurried back to the car, chased out of Lucca by rain… again.

The first third of our time in Italy, exploring the towns and villages of Emilia Romagna, is officially over, and we’re now off to Rome. We’re traveling the country like we never have before, by car in Marco and Fabry’s Fiat Bravo.

We took off around ten in the morning, with the poor little car packed to the gills with suitcases and backpacks. The journey from Forli to Rome took us up and over the Apenines, through Perugia, down into Tuscany and Umbria, and finally to the edge of the city itself.

On the way, we passed countless cute villages on hilltops and quaint Italian villas – I tried to capture a few here for you to see what it was like.

We stopped for lunch at an Auto Grill near Perugia – kind of a truck-stop/roadhouse/cafe here that caters to travelers. For 10 Euro each, we had a three course meal – a choice of two pastas with six different sauces, meat (chicken breast or three kinds of pork), salad, potatoes or french fries, and a water or a little wine.

Not a bad deal, and the food was decent for road food.

We left the Auto Grill, and hit some bad traffic on the way down to Rome – there was some kind of accident with a small delivery truck, and most of it had burned to the ground – we hope no one was seriously injured.  It backed up traffic for miles.

We also heard on the radio that there was a strike going on in Rome – the public transport systems – but fortunately it was over by the next day.

We hit more traffic close-in to Rome, and poor Marco had to contend with both the heavy traffic and a navigation system that didn’t seem to want to steer him in the right direction.

We finally arrived after 7 hours in the car at the B&B, and “siamo stati cotti” (we were fried). B&B Colosseum (http://www.bbrome.com/bbnew/index.html) is just down the street (literally three blocks) from the Colosseum, and next to a gorgeous historic church.

It’s a cute little bed and breakfast on a side street called Capo d’Africa, with just three rooms and a little kitchen for guest use. The place has wifi (in the kitchen with a table to work on) as well as a/c, nice in-room bathrooms with american-style showers, and in-room safes.

Of the three bedrooms, room one is rather small, especially in the bathroom – if you plan to stay here, ask for room 2 or 3. Were in room 1 for the first night, and moved to room 2 for the rest of the stay – it’s much larger and more comfortable.

The host, Daniella, is very sweet and gay friendly, and has so far stopped bu every morning. Her father owns the three units here, and she’s actually a banker, but has been taking care of the place while her manager is out on maternity leave.

The morning we decided to set out for Ostia Antica, she stopped by to offer a pair of beautiful old tour books, one in English and one in Italian, for our use during the day.

She was also very responsive to all our little inquiries for an extra pillow, for more toilet paper, etc.

After unpacking everything and taking a refreshing shower, we set out to explore the quarter a little, walking up to (plaza name here), where some of Rome’s largest demonstrations have been held, and saw another gorgeous cathedral – the Basillica di San Giovanni in Laterano, on the Piazza of the same name.

This church is one of the more gaudy variety a la St. Peter’s – lots of gold all over the ceiling.

As we entered, we saw that they were preparing for some kind of event or concert, with a group of musicians warming up (the mixed sounds of a number of violins and flutes playing scales and bits of various songs) and people coming in to sit at the chairs lined up along the central nave of the church.

This church also features a beautiful series of statues in alcoves along the middle, apparently a number of the Catholic saints.

Across the Piazza, we also ran across this house with a Roman ruin sticking right out of the top… it still blows my mind how common these remains are, and how the Italians often just build right around them.

Then we headed back down Via San Giovanni in Laterano toward the Colosseum. We ended up at a really cute little restaurant close to the B&B, called Li Rioni (http://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g187791-d1901134-Reviews-Li_Rioni-Rome_Lazio.html), that served pizzas and calzones, and oh, mamma mia, what a great dinner.

We started with a piece of delicious tomato bruschetta each (oh, how do they grow such delicious tomatoes here?), followed by some yummy french fries, and finally Mark and I had a calzone each, his with prosciutto and mine with mozzarella, tomatoes and basil, my three Italian favorites.

We also ended up talking to a sweet woman named Avril, from Ireland, who was enroute from Sardinia to a town up near Verona. She was so thrilled to hear another english voice after having been in-country for close to two months, and we had a lot of fun talking with her.

Finally, after a really long day, we retired to the B&B, ready to rest in preparation for a full day of exploration Saturday.

After exploring Predappio and having an afternoon at home to relax (finally), we headed out to our eighth city in seven days – Bertinoro, another Italian city on a hill.

Our friend Marco drove up the hill like a race car driver, winding back and forth in their Fiat Bravo through the very narrow streets to reach a wide piazza with panoramic views of the valley below. We stopped here to take in the vista, and then it was on to dinner.

Dinner this night was at a little restaurant on the next hill over called Casina Pantormo, in a cute little stone house, with both indoor and outside dining. It was already. bit cold, so we chose the inside option.

Mark and I usually eat by 6:30 PM, at the latest. When we arrived at the restaurant, it was already pushing 8:30, and when we finally sat down, it was 9. We started eating around 9:30, which is the latest I think I’ve ever actually sat down to dinner, but our Italian friends wen’t fazed.

The spanish don’t eat until midnight, they said, and that’s really crazy. Yeah, THAT’s the crazy thing, I thought.

But oh, what a fantastic meal. Our host and waiter were really friendly, and the food was simply divine.

We decided to eat family-style, sharing plates so each of us got a tantalizing taste of each meal. We had two appetizers – one a formed vegetable jello (i know, but it was delicious) and another with prosciutto, mozzarella, and who knows what else, fried.

Then two pastas, one in something resembling an alfredo sauce, and the other in a red sauce. The white sauce was so good that I literally ate the noodles one by one to savor it.

Incidentally, this part of the meal also came with a decoration of finocchio (fennel) – which in italian is slang for someone gay – think the f word.

I felt a certain affinity for the litte guy.

For the next course, we had a chicken dish, a rabbit (yes, rabbit – I felt really guilty about that one as we’d seen some cute little bunnies just two days before at a park in Forli) dish, and a little friend something delicious… don’t ask me what it was.

For dessert, we ordered five things – a cup of yogurt, a cu of thick cappuccino, a place of “biscotti” (cookies), another semifreddo with strawberry sauce (fast becoming my favorite Italian dessert) and something else that escapes my memory – there was so much good food!

We enjoyed spending the evening with Silla, a long-time friend of Marco’s, immensely. She’s a strong, beautiful Italian woman with exquisite taste in shoes – what’s not to like?

The five of us talked for hours about Italy, the United States, politics, life and love, and I think we’re in love with her.

The evening finally drew to a reluctant close, and we parted ways getting to bed finally some time after midnight.

Another giorno pazzo (crazy day) here in Italy.

GoThaiBeFree.com LGBT Microsite by Tourism Thailand

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I often think of myself as a tourist who hates tourists.

Recently I was talking with my partner about self-hating LGBT people. He started making fun of me: If self-hating gays are so mixed up, then why have you built your whole business around tourists who hate tourists? You’re just as bad as they are! You’re a self-hating tourist!

Can we hate tourists without hating what we see in the mirror?

Well, it’s not the same thing. Here’s the difference:

A self-hating gay man has a problem with LGBT people, as a rule. The only way to be okay with himself is to be the exception to the rule. So you’ll hear him say he’s not the typical gay man, express general disapproval of the LGBT community, and otherwise portray himself as that exception.

But when I call myself a tourist who hates tourists, it’s not that I see something intrinsically wrong with tourists.

Here’s the thing: I travel because I want to experience a foreign country. The best part is seeing the life and rhythm of a new place. I’m there to soak in all the sights and sounds. I’m there to taste the foods – whether that’s a fruit market, a fancy restaurant or street food. I’m there to notice the little cultural differences that show you you’re not in Kansas anymore.

If you’re after pure R&R, a beach resort may be the perfect choice for you. But if you want to experience your destination’s culture as authentically as possible, that doesn’t happen at the beach resort. It doesn’t happen on a huge tour bus or in a tourist trap. All those places are designed for tourists and cater to our supposed gringo tastes. That’s why the word touristy is “often used to suggest tawdriness or lack of authenticity.”

So when I say I hate tourists, it’s nothing personal. I’m perfectly happy being surrounded by tourists at the airport, before it’s time to experience my destination. And I’m perfectly happy traveling with a small number of other tourists, where our presence doesn’t completely eclipse the local character. I just don’t want to spend my trip stuck in a great big touristy bubble. I’m there for something more!

Matt in Mexico

Matt Smith is a guest blogger at Purple Roofs. He owns and operates Detour Travel, where he leads small groups to his favorite spots in Latin America. As Matt loves to say, “If our motto weren’t Small group tours with a twist, it would probably be Queer eye for the straight or LGBT traveler. Or Adventures in Latin America for tourists who hate tourists. Or maybe Eating there is half the fun! Hard to say.”

American Airlines First Class Non-Stop BUE/JFK  

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Another morning, another adventure. This morning, our latest adventure started with a visit to a beautiful local winery and villa, Tenuta Pandolfa.

Although it was a bit early, at ten in the morning, for wine, we took a walk through the manicured grounds – and it was everything you’d imagine an Italian villa would be.

Bright green lines of vines stretched up the hill like living strings of garland, while Italian pine trees lined the drive up to the main house.

The villa, a peach-colored confection of grand staircases and balconies, looks out over the vineyards, surrounded by “le colline” (hills) that fade softly into the distance.

Moving on from here, we reached our destination for the day minutes later, the village of Predappio: the birthplace (and final resting place) of the Italian dictator, Benito Mussolini.

Predappio was ground zero for the facist style of architecture, big and bold, showcasing showing the power of the state.

First stop, the cemitary that holds the tomb of Mussolini. It’s a villsge of tombs, little houses for the dead – but the tomb of Mussolini looms over all at one end, with a beautiful old church at the other. It’s a quiet, serene place, with family members bringing and tending to flowers for the dead, set among the beautiful hills of Emilia Romagna.

A wide pathway leas up to the Mussolini Family Tomb. A sign in the doorway says “silenzio” – silence out of respect for the dead.

A short flight of stairs takes you down to where Benito Mussolini himself is interred, along with other members of his family. We were intrigued by the fact that there were numerous sheaves of wheat wrapped in Italian colors left freshly on the tomb, as well as many fresh flowers around the tomb.

Marco and Fabry told us that the fascisti (fascists) who still believe Maussolini was a just man bring the flowers and maintain the tomb. It’s sad to see that here, like at home, there are so many willfully misguided souls.

We also visited the church – just one more beautiful church in Italy.

After the cemetery, we drove up to the higher village – Predappio is divided in two parts, Predappio Alta (the older village on the hill) and Predappio Bassa, most of which was built in Mussolini’s time. In Predappio Alta, there’s a small “rocca” (fortress) that we visited, up a long flight of stairs from the village… unfortunately, it was closed to visitors today.

The village itself is cute, but there’s not much there.

We returned to the lower village to walk around a bit and explore the fascist architecture. Although Mussolini was a dictator and did some terrible things to Italy and the Italians, our friends assured us that he did have some good ideas – that everyone in Italy should own a home; that each village should have all the services the citizens needed, etc – but he implemented them in an ugly way.

We started at the town hall, where Marco introduced us to a few friends. In typical Italian fashion, they weren’t ready for tourists, but managed to scrounge up a few brochures for us about the town.

The whole centro storico is called the Museo Urbano (Urban Museum) because it showcases the modernist architecture of Mussolini’s Italy – his ideas about how an Italian town should look and function.

The town hall is in a beautiful building “si chiama” (called) the Palazzo Varano, overlooks the central square with a beautiful small garden in front. Although very old, it was also the Mussolini family residence for twenty years at the end of the 19th century.

Below the Town Hall is the Basilica of San Antonio – opened in 1934, it was designed by an architect named Cesare Bazzani, and features a simple architecture in the fascist style. There’s a beautiful series of bronze panels outside, as well as a trio of stained glass windows by the same artist inside.

Walking down the main street from the Piazza, you’ll see a few other examples of fascist architecture, including the hospital on the piazza, and an elementary school with three heroes of Italian culture – Dante for literature, DaVinci for science and art, and Michelangelo for art.

Not far up the street from here, you’ll also find the last stop on our Mussolini history tour – the house where he was born and lived briefly as a child. t’s a cute little stone house, and you have to think that he sat up here on the hill at some point, looking down at the little valley below, and imagined what it would look like when he built his perfect little city.

One last stop – we found a local mercato – a market selling fresh produce – on a corner in the heart of Predappio, and bought one of the most delicious cantelopes I’ve ever had.

The proprietor asked if we were American – I think we must have it written across our foreheads – ans he seemed genuinely pleased to see us.

We’ve now stood in front of the tombs of two of the most powerful men in Italy – Caesar and Mussolini. What an amazing history this country has.

You can find more information about Predappio here.

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Last night, we had the good fortune to have dinner with our friend Fabry’s family. His mother’s home, where she lived until she passed away last year, is in the neighboring town of Cesena, about 20 minutes from our friends’ apartment in Forli.

Every Sunday afternoon, Fabry and his three sisters get together at their mother’s home for coffee, a few sweets, and to catch up on each others’ lives. This time, they arranged a family get-together in our honor.

We arrived, after a day exploring San Leo and San Marino, at a modest-looking home on a quiet street in Cesena. As we entered, Fabry’s three sisters were there to greet us, with big Italian hugs and kisses.

Fabry gave us a little tour, including the beautiful kitchen, where his mother used to prepare meals for him, and the room that was once her bedroom, now repainted and filled with photos of the family, with Fabry’s mother and father together in an honored place.

It’s in this room that the siblings gather every Sunday to chit-chat, with the photos – and spirit – of their beloved mother around them.

And here they had a little surprise – three tables decorated in red, white, and blue, with flowers to match, in honor of their American guests!

We sat down at the center of the table and watched the life of the family swirl around us as sons and daughters, husbands and wives, and three adorable little nephews arrived. The children punctuated the atmosphere with laughter and the occasional unprovoked shout, brining everyone to attention.

Dinner was simple but delicious – 11 pizzas for 15 people – and there was only one left at the end!

Afterwards, there were sweets prepared by the family – and o mio dio, were they delicious – cookies, something like fudge, and a flat “torta” – sort of a pie, but more like what we’d call a tart.

It was a pleasure just sitting and conversing with the members of Fabry’s family. They talked a little more slowly than usual for us, but we were able to grasp most of it, and to engage in an enjoyable conversation all night.

One of our favorite moments was just watching Fabry sit and talk with one of his sisters. Their connection was palpable, and it was a beautiful thing to see.

Like most Italian families, the Montanaris are loud, gregarious, even playfully aggressive at times, and it was an honor and a privilege to spend an evening with them.

We hope they invite us again the next time we’re in town.

‘Geocaching is a high-tech treasure hunting game played throughout the world by adventure seekers equipped with GPS devices. The basic idea is to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, outdoors and then share your experiences online. Geocaching is enjoyed by people, from all age groups, with a strong sense of community and support for the environment.  Geocaching.com is the headquarters for the activity”

Did you know that Geocaching started in Oregon?  A little history lesson, the full version can be read on the Geocaching.com history page from where I’ve gotten this information.

“Geocaching is a high-tech treasure hunting game played throughout the world by adventure seekers equipped with GPS devices. The basic idea is to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, outdoors and then share your experiences online. Geocaching is enjoyed by people from all age groups, with a strong sense of community and support for the environment.  Geocaching.com is the headquarters for the activity”  On this site you can read the history of Geocaching.

* On May 2, 2000, at approximately midnight, eastern savings time, the great blue switch* controlling selective availability was pressed. Twenty-four satellites around the globe processed their new orders, and instantly the accuracy of GPS technology improved tenfold. Tens of thousands of GPS receivers around the world had an instant upgrade. Now, anyone could “precisely pinpoint their location or the location of items (such as game) left behind for later recovery.” How right they were.

* On May 3 a GPS enthusiast, Dave Ulmer, computer consultant, wanted to test the accuracy by hiding a navigational target in the woods. He called the idea the “Great American GPS Stash Hunt” and posted it in an internet GPS users’ group. The idea was simple: Hide a container out in the woods and note the coordinates with a GPS unit.  On May 3rd he placed his own container, a black bucket, in the woods near Beavercreek, Oregon, near Portland.

* Within three days, two different readers read about his stash on the Internet, used their own GPS receivers to find the container, and shared their experiences online.  Like many new and innovative ideas on the Internet, the concept spread quickly – but this one required leaving your computer to participate.

* Within the first month, Mike Teague, the first person to find Ulmer’s stash, began gathering the online posts of coordinates around the world and documenting them on his personal home page. The “GPS Stash Hunt” mailing list was created to discuss the emerging activity.

* Geocaching.com was released to the stash-hunting community on September 2, 2000. At the time the site was launched there were 75 known caches in the world.  There are now over 1.5 million caches around the world, in only 12 years.’

This is certainly the condensed version.  Visit Geocaching.com history for the full story.  I checked to see if the Original Cache was still available, but alas, it has been archived and the Un-Original Stash placed in it’s honor.  The links will take you to their listing on Geocaching.com but if you are not logged in I’m not sure if you will be able to view.

When I first moved to Parkdale in ’03 there were only about 20 in the Hood River Valley.  Now there are well over 200, taking you up into the Mt Hood National Forest and the Columbia River Gorge.  Last Sunday we went into the Gorge and found 7 in only about 2 hours all the while visiting sites we had yet to explore.