Road Trip to Virginia

Randy's image of Virginia valley

Randy and I made recently returned from our third out-of-state road trip this year,

Randy wanted to show me his dad’s ancestral haunts near Hot Springs, Virginia, where Randy spent several summers as a child. In addition to visiting a cousin there, Randy also wanted to donate some stuff to the town’s historical society. I wanted Randy to tour Monticello, and to visit my Mercer-era friend Reed Banks who lives nearby, in Charlottesville.

Our visits to Hot Springs included a visit to the Homestead Hotel:

Homestead Hotel

Homestead Hotel interior

/; we stayed overnight nearby, at the Warm Springs Inn. We spent our two nights in Charlottesville at Reed’s house.

The landscapes of the valleys along our route between Hot Springs and Charlottesville are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen . . .

Hot Springs Inn view

Monterey Valley scene by Randy

Barn behind public library in Hot Springs

The reunion with my friend Reed in Charlotteville was fantastic. We had memorable conversations on a wide variety of topics as Reed squired us around the university town where Reed and his wife Renita raised their two children (now grown up and living far from Charlottesville).

Charlottesville pedestrian mall

Charolottesville with Randy Cal and Reed

Charlottesville Randy and Cal photo by Reed

In addition to spending a morning taking two of the remarkably informative tours being conducted these days at Thomas Jefferson’s home at Monticello, just outside Charlottesville, the three of us spent a lovely afternoon inspecting the gorgeous buildings and numerous gardens at the Charleston campus of the University of Virginia, designed by Jefferson:

Charlottesville U of VA Rotunda

UofVA Rotunda interior

Another colonnade at UVA

UofVA dorm colonnade by Randy

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UVA garden short with Reed

An Unexpected Garden Treat

On our way to Hot Springs and Charlottesville, we visited numerous antique shops and malls, stopping for our first night in a town in southwest Virginia called Wytheville (pronounced with-vill).

Wytheville Pencil Bldg

We spent the night in a suitably funky-but-comfortable 1950s-era motel there . . .

Wytheville Motel

. . . and ate dinner at a fancy restaurant across the street:

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The restaurant is housed in a ramshackle series of restored log cabins with tons o’ atmosphere and excellent food.

Wytheville Restaurant 1

Wytheville Restaurant 2 atmosphere with Cal

But the most startling thing about the restaurant is its large cottage garden, chock full of wonderful plants and garden sculptures and other whimsical structures. Since we managed to get only a late-evening glimpse of the garden while waiting for our dinner (ditto quick inspections of the restaurant’s two amazingly interesting gift shops!), we decided to come back the following morning to take some photos. Here are some of them (about half of them taken by me, the others by Randy):

Wytheville Garden 1

Wytheville Garden 2

Wytheville Garden 3

Wytheville Garden 4

Wytheville Garden 5 with Randy

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Wytheville Garden 7

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Wytheville Garden Detail 1

Wytheville Garden Detail 2

Wytheville Garden Detail 3 with Randy

Wytheville Garden Sculpture 1

Wytheville Garden Sculpture 2

Wytheville Garden Sculpture 3

Wytheville Garden with Randy 2

Wytheville Garden Sculpture 4

Wytheville Garden Sculpture 5

Wytheville Garden Sculpture 6

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Wytheville Garden with Cal and Randy

Our road trip to Virginia, like our previous trips this year to Florida (in May) and to Kentucky (at the end of June), was full of delightful surprises along the way, including some great conversations in the car and plenty of pit-stops at local antique malls. And I’m delighted that our trips to various destinations around the southeast U.S. have been as thoroughly enjoyable as our trip with some friends around Italy last September, when Randy and I got re-acquainted after having first met so many decades ago.

Next up for us before our next overseas trip (this time to Spain): a road trip to Asheville, which may or may not – because of the hefty $60 admission fee – include a visit to the Chihuly exhibit at Biltmore House.





St. George Island 2018

Sunburst on mantel

Every year for the past five, I’ve spent a week in May with eleven other gay guys who rent a house for a week on Florida’s St. George Island.

This year, Randy Taylor (my partner since a trip to Italy with several friends last October) went with me to the beach – his first time there, although he knows most of the people who joined us there, all of whom, like Randy and myself, are veterans of Gay Spirit Visions conferences.

The other newcomer to the beach this year is also named Randy; he traveled all the way from Fort Wayne, Indiana. The rest of us (with the exception of Greg, who moved about a year ago from Atlanta to St. Petersburg, Florida) live in Atlanta or North Carolina.

Before arriving this year, the Atlanta Randy and I spent two days traveling elsewhere in Florida, driving down to Naples to see some property my mom and dad had purchased there decades ago. We spent the night on the way down with a friend of Randy’s (an antique dealer who lives in one of the most unusual houses I’ve ever been in) who lives near Tampa.

This pre-St. George leg of our trip featured a car breakdown incident in the remote and tiny town of Salem, Florida, midway between Naples (near the edge of the Everglades) and our backroads-using route northward to St. George.

Randy photo - car breakdown in Salem, Florida

Fortunately, our tow-truck driver got us to a motel for the night, and after a temporary repair in Perry, Florida, we managed to get the car as far as St. George so the friends who had joined us there could help us drop off the car at a mechanic’s shop on the mainland, and retrieve it later in the week. (My car repair shop here in Atlanta reimbursed me for the cost of the car repair, as I’d taken in the car for servicing shortly before our trip.)

While we all enjoyed a carefree week surrounded by the various luxuries and conveniences of Abijem, our spacious rental house:



Of course, some of us felt compelled to make a few temporary modifications in the house’s decor. For example, the living room mantel and mirror were quickly festooned with strings of lights, and we decided to festoon the gigantic flatscreen television set with a little festive drapery:

Festooned television

Also, one of the ornamental animal sculptures dotted about the house apparently needed a bit of tweaking:

Festoonery 2

This year’s beach trip featured all of the activities I had so enjoyed during previous trips to Abijem. We meditated together every morning, took trips into the nearby fishing towns of Apalachicola and Carrabelle for restaurant lunches and/or shopping, did a bit of reading, took some delicious naps, and engaged in plenty of catching-up conversations, general lollygagging, teasing, and frequent laughter.

We again prepared a week’s worth of memorable dinners for each other:

Bradford's Tablescape

Greg’s tablescape for the dining room – slightly modified for each of the dinners we took turns preparing for each other throughout the week.

The group strolls along the beach took place mostly in the evening:

Randy photo - group on beach

Although I didn’t get around to joining in on any of the bike rides or the two group massage sessions, I did manage a glorious foray into the waves with Randy one afternoon (ditto the hot tub), and, as in previous years, participated in a series of fiercely competitive rounds of Wizard. Sarong-wearing was popular again this year. Several of us visited (or re-visited) the small but excellent nature center on the mainland near the entrance to the St. George bridge. And Randy and I worked in a short visit with our friends Royce and Martha Hodge, who live on St. George.

The most distinctive difference between this year’s trip and previous ones was the unusual weather we had. Except for the first couple days, it rained at least once a day, although by late afternoon most days, the sun broke through the clouds and you’d never have guessed the island had been besieged by torrents of rainfall.

Some of the cloudscapes Randy took photos of:

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Now for a few photos (most, though not all, taken by me) of my co-conspirators this year:

Chaser's selfie at beach

Chase (Silva, NC), who’s organized these group trips to St. George for the past 17 (!) years.

Bradford and Greg

Bradford (Raleigh, NC)


Craig (Atlanta, GA)

Greg's selfie at beach

Greg (St. Petersburg, FL)


John (Asheville, NC)

Randy photo - Ralph and Chase at restaurant

Ralph (Atlanta, GA)

Randy M 2

Randy M. (Ft. Wayne, IN)

Randy T

Randy T. (Atlanta, GA)


Roger (Asheville, NC)


Ted (Atlanta, GA)


Tom (Atlanta, GA)

Randy and I prepared teas for the group on three of our afternoons together:

Tea 1

The English Tea.

Tea 2

The Asian Tea.

Tea 3

The Herbal Tea.

My last photo is of the sunset on our final evening at St. George:

Final sunset

Photos from previous trips to Abijem are here, here, here, and here.

Another Trip to Italy – Week #1

Italy photos by John 358

Beginning in mid-September of 2017 I spent three weeks in Italy – my fourth trip to this apparently irresistible country. My fellow travelers for the trip’s first two weeks were four other gay men who live in Atlanta: Bill, John,  Randall, and Randy. I spent a third week in Italy on my own.

[The photos here were taken by different people on our trip (including me), and a few of them I found on the Internet. You can see additional photos of the places we visited by clicking on the links embedded in the text.]

For our first week, we rented a villa just outside of Cortona, in Tuscany, using the villa as our base for a number of day trips.

Our Villa Rental!

The Tuscan villa we rented was located just outside the city walls of Cortona, popular with English-speaking tourists ever since the publication (and movie adaptation) of Under the Tuscan Sun, Georgia-born author Frances Mayes’ account of buying and restoring a house in Cortona.

We rented two cars at the Rome airport and hoped to get to the villa by sundown. Didn’t happen. Due to the difficulty of finding the villa (and getting lost in the process more than once, and in the middle of a rainstorm in the pitch black), one of our cars full of Americans finally rendezvoused with the keyholder to the villa at approximately 1 a.m.

Our villa was suitably picturesque – and picturesquely located – and it would’ve been a totally pleasant place to hang out in had we not decided to make as many day trips as most of us did. We did manage to coordinate our various schedules and itineraries so we could all be together to enjoy a meal we had cooked for us at the villa halfway through our stay there.

Villa exterior:



Italy photos by John 024

Villa interiors:

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Our view across the Tuscan landscape from the villa:

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A bonus of our renting a villa in Cortona was the fact that Randy had spent an entire summer there as an undergraduate art student, so he knew his way around the area. I spent the first day after we arrived exploring the town with Randy.

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Italy photos by John 014

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Because we’d decided to rent two cars rather than one, different groups of us were able to make different day trips from Cortona. My own excursions included forays to various other hilltop villages. The scenic drives to and from these places were as swoon-worthy as the villages themselves were. Among the most memorable destinations that week:


Randy and I had both been to Florence on previous trips to Italy, so we decided to spend most of our time there this trip looking out over the city from the Piazza Michaelangelo and from the plaza in front of the church above the Piazza.  The church turned out to be closed, but the vast cemetery behind it was a marvel, as were the views of the city across the river.

Here’s Randy on our ascent to the Piazza (which we got to via a wonderful garden with equally spectacular views of the city):

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Here’s the view we came to gaze at:

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After the longest single walk of the entire trip (we had hoped our route would be a shortcut back down to the city – so wrong!), we sought out a multimedia exhibit, in a deconsecrated church near the Ponte Vecchio, about Leonardo da Vinci. The main feature of the exhibit (although not the only one) was an hour-long, dream-like montage set to classical music (with no distracting narration) of da Vinci’s paintings (and some of his drawings) projected, one at a time, on multiple fifty-foot-high screens that surrounded the audience.  Seeing those familiar images so spectacularly enlarged and accompanied by such glorious music was mesmerizing and memorable.

Italy photos by John 337

Montepulciano (Twice!)

Montepulciano was probably my all-around favorite town of all the ones I visited this trip; it’s no wonder it’s one of the most popular hillside towns in Tuscany. I liked it so much that I went there twice – once with John and again with Randy.

The sculpture based on a design by Leonardo, outside the city center’s main gate:

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Montepulciano’s clock tower:

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One of the gardens near the fortress at Montepulciano:

Garden at fortress in Montepulciano

The view from Montepulciano:

View from Montepulciano


John and I spent part of a day in this little place that a pope who had been born here decided to make over into a model Renaissance town. I liked how compact the town was, although it was a bit too perfect in some respects. But I’d wanted to see it for years, so going there was a treat.

Two Days Exploring the Tuscan Countryside

On another day, after futilely trying to nab a parking space in Sienna, Randy and I left our fellow travelers (in their own car, who had better luck finding parking) and high-tailed it for the countryside south of the city. It took us over an hour to thread our way out of Sienna, as I inadvertently steered our car into the difficult-to-escape labyrinthine bowels of the historic center (where only local traffic is allowed).

Sienna from Internet

After finally exiting the town to explore various scenic routes through the Val d’Orcia, we stopped in (among other places) Buonoconvento (billed as “the most beautiful town in Tuscany”), Quirico d’Orcia, the Abbey of St. Antimo, and the remote fortress town of Radicofani, where Randy (not, like me, afraid of heights), climbed to the top of the fortress tower there.

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Quiero d'Orcia

Italy photos by John 166


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The following day, all of us  piled into one of our two rental cars and  threaded our way along various scenic drives southwest of Cortona, with stops in Montalcino, San Quirico (touring a huge English-style formal garden there, the Horti Leonini), and a semi-remote gigantic modern sculpture garden (Il Giardino di Daniel Spoeri):

Italy photos by John 275

Daniel garden fourDaniel garden oneDaniel garden threeDaniel garden two

After spending most of a day in this huge garden and having lunch there, we headed for a brief dip in the hot springs at Saturnia:

Italy photos by John 281

Then followed a mad dash across Italy to the western coast of Tuscany to see an amazing collection of Tarot-themed mosaic sculptures in a garden outside of Grosseto. We got there only fifteen minutes before the garden closed, but the rushed visit was certainly worth the long drive.

Italy photos by John 285

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Italy photos by John 294

(More images of the sculptures in this garden are here.)

Our Last Day in Cortona

On our final day of being based at the villa, Randy and I visited several sites near Cortona, including a famous church outside the city walls:


…and an enormous monastery that has hosted St. Francis

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That night those of us who hadn’t spent the day in Florence ate our final meal in Cortona. Early the next morning, our week in Tuscany was over, and we aimed our two rental cars southwest. Our destination: the Amalfi Coast.

Another Trip to Italy – Week #2

AmalfiCoastPhotoPin-2-683x1024Beginning in mid-September of 2017 I spent three weeks in Italy – my fourth trip to this apparently irresistible country. My fellow travelers for the trip’s first two weeks were four other gay men who live in Atlanta: Bill, John, Randall, and Randy. 

Exploring the Amalfi Coast

We began our second week together in Italy in a rented apartment in Ravello, perched on the cliffs above the half-dozen towns along the Amalfi Coast.

The front door of our place in Ravello:

Italy photos by John 452

We arrived in Ravello via the notorious Amalfi Drive, although since we got to the coast after dark, I was blissfully unaware of the vertiginous views from the edge of “the road with 1,000 curves.”

As with our villa in Tuscany, the spacious apartment in Ravello would’ve been a fine place to spend the week without going anywhere, the view of the sea from the patio was so spectacular:

Italy photos by John 388

The views from our patio at sunrise and sunset were particularly mesmerizing:

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The view from my room in Ravello:

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Randall hanging out on the patio:

The view from our apartment compensated for the fact that the town center was at least 500 steps higher up. Highlights of our exploration of Ravello (home for many years of, among other famous writers, Gore Vidal) were tours of two villas and gardens restored by different Englishmen who had settled there in the 1800s. Both of them were stunning, as were the views from their living quarters and their gardens:

Villa Rufolo

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Italy photos by John 405

…and the Villa Cimbone

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Italy photos by John 423

Italy photos by John 436

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Hiking High above the Amalfi Coast

A major highlight of my trip to the Amalfi Coast was the half-day hike I made along a donkey trail dubbed “The Path of the Gods.” I took a bus to a remote village located at one end of the trail, and walked for approximately three-and-a-half hours along the cliff’s edge to another remote village where I left the path and took a bus down to Positano, and then a ferry back to Amalfi, where I took another bus back up the mountains to our base in Ravello.

I encountered only a few other people on the path, and the views were as breathtaking as had been advertised. (Before the trip, I watched a lot of videos, like this one, that others had taken while walking the trail. Here are a few of the views (obtained from Mr. Google) I encountered along the way:

We spent a total of four days and nights exploring the Amalfi area from our perch in Ravello, getting around via foot (lots of stair-climbing!), via buses, and (the most fun), via ferries:

Italy photos by John 457

The only time we used one of our rental cars in Ravello was the day Randy and John made a day trip to Pompeii.

Despite the fact that we’d timed our visit to avoid the height of the tourist season, the number of other tourists I encountered in the steep, narrow alleys of Amalfi’s most popular town, Positano, was rather daunting. On the other hand, it was easy to understand why so many people flock here: it is a stunningly beautiful town.

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Reluctantly leaving the Amalfi Coast – it would take a lot more than four days to see all the coastal towns we’d like to have explored –  Bill, John, and Randall drove to Rome to the apartment we’d rented there, and Randy and I took off for points south,  traveling first to Paestum (a Greek temple site) and then to the cliff town of Matera, before joining the others in Rome.


Did you know that one of the best-preserved complexes of Greek temples is in Italy? Besides the impressive remains of these large, remarkable temples themselves, which are surrounded by the foundations of an entire Greek town. Paestrum exudes an awe-inspiring aura, and, as Randy remarked at the time, Paestum is one of the quietest places we’d ever visited, despite the legions of tourists who visit it.

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The site also features an excellent museum of artifacts found at or near the site.  Among the remarkable things on exhibit are paintings found inside the sarcophagi of several excavated Greek tombs, including the unique and exquisite Tomb of the Diver:

Tomb of the Diver

Reluctant to leave Paestum, Randy and I extended our visit there by having lunch at a nearby restaurant before heading northwest, to Matera.


Easily the most unusual place I saw this trip was the formerly abandoned town of Matera.  Perched on the side of a deep gorge, the town’s structures were carved out of the limestone that forms the cliff-face. Decades ago the Italian government relocated the entire population of the town, although it is slowly being repopulated (largely by artists, it seems), and although a modern city adjoins it.

The bizarreness of the cityscape in the ancient part of town is difficult to describe or to capture in photographs.

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Matera two

Scenes from dozens of movies – some of them based on Biblical tales, but also including the recently-released Wonder Woman – have been filmed here, and both Randy and I definitely felt like we had stumbled onto some other planet.

You can get a better sense of the weirdness of the town by scanning through these images of Matera posted on the Internet. Even better are the various videos on the Internet that showcase the amazing architecture of this town – for example, this one and/or this one.

We stayed in a hotel whose rooms are built to resemble the cave-like dwellings of the town, and we wished we could’ve stayed several days in Matera instead of a single day and night. Especially since, the night we arrived, it was raining so heavily that the steepness of the town’s flooded alleys made it impossible for us to do any exploring until the following morning.

Reluctantly leaving Matera after a walk through two of the historic quarters and a brief amble into the modern town next to them, we headed across the vast midsection of Italy toward Rome to join our fellow travelers who had already arrived there two days earlier.


John had found an AirBnB for us all to stay in, located in the middle of town. Randy and I slept on the fold-out bed below the loft in this spacious, modern, and conveniently-located apartment:

Italy photos by John 622

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With only two days to spend in Rome, Randy and I chose to re-visit a few of our personal favorite tourist spots instead of venturing into new ones. It was wonderful to see again the Piazza Navona, the Treve Fountain, the Spanish Steps, the Borghese Gardens (especially the belvedere overlooking the city), and, of course, the Pantheon.

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I also enjoyed, during our schleps around the city, stopping to take photos of a few of Rome’s remarkable door knockers!

As our two weeks together as a fivesome came to a close, it was a bit difficult to say goodbye to my fellow-travelers. (It was particularly difficult for me to say goodbye to Randy, for reasons that will be made clear in some future blog post.) We parted ways outside our rented apartment, with Bill, John, Randall, and Randy grabbing a cab and heading for the Rome airport and with me striking out on foot toward the railroad station to catch the next train for Trieste, where I would be spending a final week in Italy solo.

Another Trip to Italy – Week #3

trieste main plaza

Beginning in mid-September of 2017 I spent three weeks in Italy – my fourth trip to this apparently irresistible country. My fellow travelers for the trip’s first two weeks were four other gay men who live in Atlanta. 

After my fellow travelers Bill, John, Randall, and Randy returned to the U.S., I stayed on for an additional week, basing myself in Trieste, an Italian town I’d never visited before. I went there initially thinking it would be a convenient base for a day trip to a national park I wanted to visit in Croatia, but I scrapped that plan after discovering the park was a five-hour bus trip each way. Instead, I spent my entire third week in Italy exploring some of the sites in and around Trieste.

Trieste Highlights

The first thing I had to wrap my brain around was how un-Italian Trieste looks and feels. Everything about it – the architecture, the restaurant food, the languages I overheard in the streets and on the buses – made the place I was staying for a week seem more like Vienna than anywhere else in Italy I’d traveled – either during this trip or my previous ones. Not to mention the undeniable fact that Trieste, unlike all other Italian cities I’d enjoyed, seemed so uncharacteristically clean! I’d been warned about this distinctiveness of Trieste – until recent times, Trieste had been a part of Austria – but it was still disorienting to realize on my walks around this city that I was still in Italy.

One entire side of Trieste’s enormous main square/piazza, like Venice’s, faces the Adriatic.  Walking to and from other parts of the city, I crisscrossed this piazza many times, and at different times of day and night, and I never tired of it. And as I’d serendipitously timed my visit to Trieste during the week immediately preceding the town’s most popular annual festival, the city’s main square and seaside boulevard were filled with dozens of festival tents and booths selling everything from delicious varieties of locally-baked focaccia bread to Italian-made shoes and electric bicycles, and the harbor was gradually filling up with hundreds of sailboats anchoring themselves in preparation for the annual regatta.

One of my extended ambles in Trieste was a self-guided walking tour (with a free audioguide courtesy the town’s tourist office) through the town’s Roman-era sites and its medieval cathedral. The walking tour involved a lot of hill-climbing, so I was glad I could flop into my hotel bed for a post-walk nap – something I did most days I was in Trieste and, due to the fact that I’d already done a lot of walking during my first two weeks in Italy, I really enjoyed these breaks from my tourist adventures, despite the tiny size and spartan appointments of my hotel room:

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Small though it was, my hotel was exceptionally convenient. Located only two blocks from the city’s famous Grand Canal, the hotel was also on the same street as the impressive (and, as so much else in Trieste, its baroque) European Postal and Telegraphy Museum. My visit there was an unexpected treat for someone who still writes letters, who enjoys reading published collections of other people’s letters, and who collected stamps as a kid. The museum’s lobby features a huge and insanely kitschy painting of a flock of cherubs bearing letters, their important errands supervised by the imposing figure of what is presumably the Goddess of Snail Mail!

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Another memorable museum in downtown Trieste I visited was its museum of modern art, which incorporated the former residence – complete with rooms with its original furniture, fountains, paintings, etc. – of a Deco-era magnate whose home the building used to be. “Modern” for this museum means the entire 20th century as well as the 21st, and I found there many remarkable paintings (especially remarkable portraits) and sculptures by artists I’d never heard of before. The views from the museum’s rooftop were spectacular.

A Quick Trip to Venice

I abandoned Trieste for a day to do something I’d wanted to do on a previous trip to Italy many years ago: deliberately losing myself in the labyrinthine alleys that lie behind the most popular (and most expensive) sites of Venice. True, I did revisit (and, due to the crush of tourists, revisited only very briefly) St. Mark’s Cathedral and I also made my way to the lobby – alas, only the lobby – of the place I’d in Venice if I win the lottery: the fabled Hotel Danieli:

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But I spent most of my time in Venice wandering aimlessly, re-tracing my way out of dead-ends and crossing tiny bridges over equally tiny canals.

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Needless to say, I carefully punctuated my reverie-drenched wanderings – and my bouts of mounting fatigue – with repeated ingestions of lemon-flavored gelato. I also treated myself to getting back to the train station via a water-taxi trip down the entire length of the Grand Canal.

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Two major disappointments of my otherwise very satisfying day in Venice:

  • the Sanasavino Library I badly wanted to visit turned out to be accessible only to people visiting in large tour groups,
  • the alarming number of tourists who chose to stare into their cell phones instead of staring at Venice.

Around Trieste

Apart from my day trip to Venice, my three forays out of the city and into the countryside near town were:

  • a sunny day at the beguiling castle and gardens that were once the residence of Austria’s (and later, of all places, Mexico’s) Emperor Maximilian
  • a ferry ride across the bay to an afternoon exploring a charming seaside town of Muggia
  • a somewhat less wonderful day  – because of my momentarily-forgotten fear of heights – in what is advertised as Europe’s largest cave.

Maximilian’s castle is located on the shore a short bus-ride out of town and was well worth a visit, as were the castle’s extensive gardens.


The palace stables, converted into an art museum, featured, the day I visited, an enthralling exhibit of Art Deco paintings, posters, jewelry, furniture, clothing, books, and other non-architectural artifacts. Part of the charm of the exhibit was the stenciling of numerous walls with quotations from the most famous champions of the period’s style and ideology, displayed in one of my favorite type fonts. A single example:

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My leisurely visit to the castle was made completely pleasant not only by the interesting story of Maximillian and his family, but by the sunny weather and my indulgence in snarfing down three separate cups of gelato from the gelato stand in the castle gardens, and by having lunch at a nearby restaurant with a view of the sea.

My favorite day in Trieste, however, was my final one there, when I decided to stop being a tourist and park myself for a few hours reading a book on one of the benches in the city’s most famous park. My walk to and from this near-perfect urban green space

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via the long pedestrians-only boulevard that connects the modern city center to the park was just as pleasant as my little respite in the park proved to be. Besides the  quiet, tree-lined, cafe-featuring car-free space the boulevard provides, one comes upon things like this facade of a movie theater:

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On my way back to my hotel from my afternoon idyll in the park, I regarded my impulsive decision to eat lunch at a Burger King (instead of another Italian trattoria) as a sign that I was obviously ready to begin my journey home. Having spent a wonder-filled three weeks in one of my favorite countries in Europe, I had had my fill of living out of a suitcase and pounding the pavements.

After a nap-filled day throughout the long train ride from Trieste, I spent my final night in Italy in Rome – although not in the hotel that I had so carefully booked before heading to Trieste the week before. The travel agent who’d booked my room had failed to read the fine print on my reservation, and so had I. After a maddeningly time-consuming hunt for the hotel, I discovered my reservation was valid only for a female guest in a mostly student-patronized hotel that segregated its visitors into gender-separate wings! I arrived too late in the day for the hotel to re-book me in a vacant room designated for a male, so I was forced, late in the day, to find another place to stay. That process involved additional unwelcome schlepping, and by the time I found my new lodgings,  I was too exhausted to venture back out into Rome again. Still, the place I found was nicer and fortunately more convenient to the train station than my original booking.

The next morning after taking the express train from Rome’s enormous central train station to the airport, I spent my last few Euros on yet another gelato before boarding the plane.

When, many weary hours later,  I landed in Atlanta, Randy – who, like my other fellow travelers who had returned to the States the week before – had recovered from his own jet-lag. He generously fetched me from the Atlanta airport – one of most pleasant re-entries ever – and soon thereafter, we resumed our adventure in getting to know each other better – something we are still doing, five months after our splendid trip to Italy.

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A Splendid Labor Day Weekend!

Labor Day Postage Stamp

For many reasons – and for reasons that have varied through the years –  Labor Day has long been my favorite national holiday.

That’s been especially so for the past twelve years, as that’s when the annual Decatur Book Festival takes place.


This year’s festival was as delightful as it invariably is, even though – and perhaps even because – I decided to attend fewer events than usual, and even though the main person I had hoped to listen to (Krista Tippit of NPR’s “On Being”) fell ill and had to cancel.

As usual, the authors I got to listen to were extraordinarily articulate, funny, engaging, and refreshingly non-pretentious. Among the authors I got to see and hear this year:

  • Elizabeth Kostova, whose Dracula-centric book The Historian I thoroughly enjoyed reading a few years ago, and who happens to know a mutual friend who lives in Asheville, where Kostova nows lives.
  • Four exceptionally bright and funny panelists explaining the mysteriously enduring popularity of Jane Austen’s novels (all of which I’ve listened to, enthralled, via audiobooks).
  • Editors of two anthologies talking about their collections of letters exchanged between two pair of Civil War soldiers and their wives – something that I would never have guessed would have been so interesting, but was.
  • Dylan Thuras, the sweet, funny, and down-to-earth co-founder of Atlas Obscura, which has recently published a book with that title, each of them showcasing off-the-beaten path attractions around the world – including several in the Atlanta area.
  • A panel of archivists and authors talking about the archives and special collections at Emory University’s Library’s Rose Archives – a panel especially interesting because two of the panelists (and the panel moderator) are African-Americans who’ve used the archives at Emory (and elsewhere), and who had eloquent and inspiring things to say about the importance of archives. And also because one the other panelist I know as a fellow-member of the Georgia LGBTQ Archives Project.
  • Sam Kean, the author of  (among other books) Caesar’s Last Breath, who talked hilariously and clearly about the taken-for-granted gases that make up our atmosphere – and who told an intriguing story about the refrigerator Einstein invented.

Besides enjoying a lot more people-watching than usual in the perfect (vs. the often hot-and-humid) weather during the festival, I also (also unusual for me) bought some books from one of the used-book vendors at the Festival. I am now the excited owner of yet another biography of Virginia Woolf, plus a published collection of photos, drawings, and engravings of Oscar Wilde and his circle. Those in addition to the half-dozen gardening books I picked up at bargain prices at the event that (for me) kicks off every Festival, the Dekalb Public Library’s book sale, held outdoors in front of the library.

A Bonus Day of Bliss

After happily mingling with thousands of strolling booklovers on the closed-off streets of Decatur, Georgia, I don’t usually make any special plans for the Monday holiday after the Festival ends on Sunday evening. This year, however, I decided to join a group of four other men who signed up for a Labor Day hike just over the Georgia border in South Carolina, one of the many hikes sponsored by the Wilderness Network of Georgia.

The spot along the Chatooga River that hike organizer Charles had located as the destination of our half-mile hike was as perfect as the weather turned out to be.

The five of us spent our leisurely afternoon sitting by (or cavorting around in) the river, talking, napping, and snacking next to a campfire we managed to keep going the whole time we were there. (I’ve never built a campfire during the day, or in such mild weather.)


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Hike organizer Charles, resting after swimming to the far side of the river.

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Fellow hiker (and former Cub Scout) Kyle, creating the campfire that we enjoyed keeping going throughout our otherwise lazy afternoon.

Our day of lollygagging beside the banks of the unspoiled river was punctuated by several groups of passing kyackers or canoeists floating downstream, a gaggle of geese paddling upstream, repeated visits by two blue butterflies, and the constant background sounds of the nearby rapids.

After putting out our campfire and trudging back up the hill to our cars, we stopped for dinner at a Chinese/Thai restaurant in Clayton, Georgia. We finished our meal there just in time for a glorious sunset and the rising of an almost-full moon.

Among the factors that contributed to the perfection of this third consecutive day of bliss:

  • I am part of the large cohort of middle-class Americans who’ve retired from our careers as paid laborers – with at least some savings to finance those retirements.
  • I am privileged to have acheived a standard of living that’s unmarred by debt or constrained by other major financial worries.
  • Despite my age – I’ll be 70 – 70!!! – next July – my health is good enough to hike down to a remote river – and back uphill again.
  • I live in a country whose governments have set aside, and made accessible to citizens, vast swaths of unspoiled countryside, some of them including freely-flowing, unpolluted rivers!
  • I still have functioning senses that allow me to enjoy the colors, the sounds, the smells, the textures and the other sensual delights that a picnic in the woods along the banks of a beautiful river provides.
  • Waiting for me at the top of the the steepish hiking trail was a nice car whose driver got me to the river and transported me back again to my comfortable home – making it possible for me to spend the afternoon in a place remote from where I live.
  • I’m not coping with trying to survive floods, wildfires, or other horrific natural catastrophes, and my life is not being  disrupted by the cruel antics of any government official.

Three consecutive days of Perfection. I am a lucky, lucky man.

Abajem IV

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I just returned from spending a week on Florida’s St. George Island with eleven friends I met through an organization called Gay Spirit Visions.

GSV was established in 1990, and in 2002 a half-dozen GSVers decided to rent a house on SGI for a week. Chase Robinson has taken care of reserving a rental house each year, and the house-renting group (whose participants vary each year) eventually doubled its size.  The group has rented a half dozen different houses over the years; this was my fourth consecutive year vacationing with these guys on SGI, all four of them spent at the enormous and luxurious “Abajem.”

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As in previous years, the week consisted of hanging out with each other in various combos, either on the beach or within sight of it. Besides enjoying the camaraderie. the conversations, the shared meals, and the spectacular scenery, a large part of the wonderfulness of the week is enjoying an extended break from our respective routines – as well as, for some of us, a break from the relentless aggravations we normally import into our brains via our Internet connections, our phones, and our voluntary tethers to other mass media.

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Although three of us who went to SGI this year live in various towns in North Carolina, Atlanta is home for the rest of us. That means most of us get to extend our annual visits by carpooling down to and back from SGI, as well as spent time together in Atlanta between visits to the island. Although we share many of the values cherished by most GSV participants, there’s a range of ages among us, most of us are retired from our former full-time jobs, about to retire, or are semi-retired.

This year’s Abijem crew:

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Ralph (right) and Ted  (left, in sumo wrestler garb)




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Cal (with crocheted cap and flower courtesy Jim)

Our time together on the island is deliberately and gloriously unstructured, but our indoor and outdoor lolling about is punctuated not only by almost nonstop banter and hilarious commentary, but by our taking turns preparing evening meals, silently meditating together each morning, exchanging massages, playing card games (well, actually playing multiple rounds of a single card game: Wizards), intermittently working (alone or together) at various crafts, reading, taking naps, watching a DVD or two, eating in small groups at various restaurants, or driving across the bridge into the nearby town of Appalachicola to visit its shops and galleries. Some of us avail ourselves of Abijem’s swimming pool and/or its hot tub, and Chase provides kayaks, kites, and bicycles. Some of us get up every morning to watch the sun rise over the ocean, and this year our visit coincided with a full moon.

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“Mermaid Barbie” was a permanent feature this year in Bradford’s various tablescapes, which included (among other items, and on various days) painted shells, botanical specimens collected from the island, toy submarines, and a pair of lava lamp-like lighting fixtures.


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Mealtime appetizer.



For the second time, Jim (aka Mr. Patience) taught Calvin how to crochet!


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Cal losing yet another round of Wizards. Jim crocheted the Wizard’s Hat.


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This year, hot on the trail of the the strolling sumo wrestlers was…


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Tea time at Abijem, for the humans…

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...and snack time for the birds.


Randall’s photo of some of the seashells we painted with color markers 


Sunrise over the ocean.


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Lighthouse at St. George


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Souvenirs of this year’s visit: samples of our painted shells, a hibiscus flower, and a teddy bear.


As I had with with my three previous trips to SGI with these kindhearted, affectionate, intelligent, and creative guys, I looked forward for many months to our week together this year, and hope there’ll be many more annual rendezvouses there.

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