Category Archives: Personal

A collection of personal thoughts and stories

The SEM Hierarchy of the E-mail Inbox

First published September 14, 2006 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Into each social structure, a little stratification must fall. As our society takes a decidedly virtual turn, I’m finding that my Outlook inbox is the latest place where a class structure is taking shape.

Of course, you have the standard spam vs. non-spam sorting, but this doesn’t really count. That happens pretty much transparently in the background, and every day or so I wade through the muck in my deleted spam folder just to make sure a vital piece of communication didn’t get waylaid. For instance, today an e-mail from my lawyer went there. On second thought, perhaps the filter knew better than I what should be deleted.

No, it’s the e-mail that survives the cut that is subject to endless classification and sorting, as I haplessly try to wrap my priorities around an ever-expanding inbox. At first, I thought the six different flags supplied by Outlook would do the trick, but I quickly realized my complicated world needs much more than six classifications.

So in an attempt to ease the daily burden of countless search marketers, I offer the following suggestions for an SEM Custom Rules plug that would automatically take the following actions in Outlook’s inbox.

The “Anything from Google” Rule

It doesn’t really matter what comes in with an “@google.com” on the back end, you’d better open it right away. These go on the top of the list. If it’s from Matt Cutts or Tim Armstrong, perhaps a siren and flashing red light to draw further attention. I don’t get e-mails from Eric, Sergey or Larry, and I suspect the same is true for most SEMs, but if I ever did, I would like a heavenly ray of light to shine gently on me as a choir of angels sing the “Hallelujah Chorus.”

The MSN Beta Invitation Rule

This could dramatically reduce the manual sorting required by automatically signing up for beta test groups for MSN’s new adCenter products, including the Targeting by Presence of Facial Hair Platform, the Visitors You Wish You Got Report feature and the Integrated adCenter/Xbox 360 Console, which drops you into a virtual 3-D world where you can walk up to leads that didn’t convert and slap them for being stupid.

The “Hey, I Got a Speaking Gig” Rule

This would (until recently anyway) include e-mails from Danny Sullivan, Chris Sherman and Brett Tabke, indicating which panel you’d be speaking on at the next big show. These e-mails have to be referred to quickly so you have time to book hotels and flights, and then start e-mailing to see who else will be at the show, who was going to what after- hours function, if you could catch a ride with them, who else was on your panel, and when is the deadline for getting the presentation done (no, not the official deadline–the “real” deadline).

The “Why the Hell Did I Sign Up for This?” Rule

The average search marketer signs up for approximately 6,428,943 newsletters, 194,597 Google news alerts, 963,693 forum post notifications–and that doesn’t include RSS subscriptions. This is all done in the hopes of gaining some vital piece of information that would give them the leg-up on the competition, who are of course all subscribing to the same things. This rule would scan everything for the 1 in 159,975 chance that there’s a useful tidbit in there somewhere. The one exception is the Search Insider–naturally.

The SEMPO Board Communication Rule

Admittedly for a very small market, this would be nonetheless essential for those who serve on SEMPO’s board. It would be able to detect the difference between the 9,543 e-mails a day you get just because you were part of the e-mail alias, a 12-page-long cc list, and the messages requesting you to get off your butt and do something.

The “Rocket to the Top of the Search Engines” Rule

Although these e-mails are technically spam, I like to read them every so often and feel smug about how superior and morally pure I am, and how far my company has come since the days when everyone tried this marketing tactic.

The “Arrange a Meeting/Teleconference” Rule

Why don’t we just accept the fact that it takes 3.6 months and 112 e-mails back and forth to arrange any type of call or meeting, so we should just automate the process? That way we can still feel good that we’re trying to facilitate the phantom meeting by generating reams of e-mails and invitations, while saving us some time. In the end, it will automatically revert to the original time and date proposed, as it turned out that it was really the best for everyone, anyway.

The “Loved Your Column” Rule

Okay, seriously, these e-mails, when they come in (and yes, I have got a few), are the highlight of my day, and they’re the first I respond to. Of course, don’t take this as a hint or anything.

Dan Brown Rant

I’ve been surpressing this for a couple weeks now, but I’m threatening to blow a gasket if I don’t do some venting.

Enough with the frigging Da Vinci Code already!

While over in Europe, I fulfilled some lifelong dreams by visiting the Louvre in Paris, as well as Florence and Rome. But everywhere I turned, I kept bumping into adverts for the Da Vinci Code. The Louvre even has it’s own Da Vinci Code tour.

Okay, nothing against Dan Brown. I’ve read the book, as well as Angels and Demons and Deception Point. I enjoyed them. They’re entertaining, but they’re blips on the cultural radar. Mr. Brown is a writer on par with a John Grisham or a Michael Crichton. The plots are mildly interesting, the characters are about as thin as the paper it’s printed on and the dialogue is as stiff as the hard cover. The whole ancient religious sect angle raises it to slightly better than average, but just slightly. There is no justification for this tidal wave of attention that the book seems to be garnering. I thought it was restricted to this side of the Atlantic, but I was sadly disillusioned to see that it’s taken route in Europe as well. Give me a break, Paris, Rome and Florence, you’re better than this!

If you really want to see how this whole angle can be handled masterfully, take a big juicy bite out of some of Umberto Eco’s works. Compared to Foucault’s Pendulum or Name of the Rose, the Da Vinci Code is like a postcard of the original Mona Lisa.

Life after SEW for Danny Sullivan

First published August 30, 2006 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

This Tuesday, a bomb dropped on the search marketing community. It started, as so many stories do now online, with a simple blog post. After 10 years, Danny Sullivan was leaving Search Engine Strategies and Search Engine Watch. Jaws could be heard dropping around the world. Danny is synonymous with both the shows and the site. And ten years is an eternity in this biz. We just always assumed that Danny’s involvement with the two franchises was like bedrock, so permanent you take it for granted. There were others involved–many others–all integral to the success, but make no mistake, this was Danny’s gig. The thought of SEW and SES without Danny just didn’t jive. Within hours, there was a litany of tributes to Danny Sullivan on his blog. It was almost as if a head of state had passed on. We collectively caught our breath and wondered what was next.

By the time you read this, this will no doubt be old news, so I won’t go into the details or reasons of the departure. I’m not really privy to them anyway. What I would like to do instead is look at some of the back history of how Search Engine Watch began, because I think it’s a great Internet story.

A Webmaster’s Guide To Search

One of the things that is wonderful about the Web is how it evens the playing field and creates opportunity. If you’re smart, if you’re a good communicator, and if you’re passionate about something, you can pick your niche and carve out your own slice of celebrity. Danny was all three. In 1996, Danny Sullivan’s notoriety probably didn’t extend much beyond his family and friends, but that was soon to change.

In 1995, Danny left journalism behind to go into Web development. Ironically, that was about the same time I left traditional advertising behind to focus on the Web. Soon, for both of us, we encountered the inevitability of search engines. As sites were developed, Danny recognized the importance of search engines as a traffic source and began experimenting to achieve higher rankings. For four months in 1996, he tweaked and tested codes, achieving some success, and published his findings online, collectively called “A Webmaster’s Guide to Search Engines”. In the next year, it was rebranded Search Engine Watch and started to take up more and more of Danny’s time. It soon became the reference site for a number of nascent search engine optimizers (myself included) and became Danny’s full-time gig, supported by a handful of subscribers. At the end of 1997, it was purchased by Mecklermedia and Danny continued as editor.

The launch of SES

Search Engine Strategies launched from the base of support built by the site. The first show was in November, 1999 in San Francisco. The promo page is still live, if you’re interested. Since then, the show has grown from a few hundred attendees and a handful of exhibitors to attendance in the thousands and a jammed exhibit hall. As I wrote just a few weeks ago, it is the must-see search event.

In the intervening years, Danny has chronicled the birth and growth of an industry. Through the past 10 years, search engines have come and gone, but Danny Sullivan was always there, making sense of an occasionally nonsensical business. He has been the constant. Like I said, he’s bedrock. He’s also a search celebrity, one of the best known names and faces in a region of the online world that has since become a focal point of global interest. You want to know about search? Ask Danny. Major newspapers, magazines and TV networks beat a path to his door. When John Battelle decided to chronicle the history of search for his book, The Search, a long visit with Danny was a no-brainer, and John makes his debt to Danny very clear in the foreword.

The creation of a community

But Danny had no special education, or credentials to become the pre-eminent expert on search marketing. He has a degree, but there’s no Ph.D. of Search. He simply had a passion, a curiosity and a knack for communicating what he found. The Web gave him a voice, and he found his audience. Through the past 10 years, he has never failed that audience. Almost single-handedly, he opened the communication lines between the search engines and Webmasters and helped to create the community that now exists. From his beginning efforts, people like Brett Tabke and Matt Cutts have taken up the torch and continued to keep the communication flowing. Danny Sullivan has taken on the stewardship of what he began, continuing to nurture the SEM community, and there are many who are in his debt.

As I said at the beginning, I don’t know the details of the split between Danny and Incisive Media, and it’s not appropriate that I comment on them. I don’t know what will happen with Search Engine Strategies and Search Engine Watch. But I know that Danny’s passion for search will continue, and it will resurface soon. In a very interesting way, Danny Sullivan and the Internet grew up together, and each has helped in the development of the other. It is a true symbiotic relationship, but in this case, we’ve all benefited, and I hope we all will continue to do so.

SES-SEW without Danny: What the Hell is Going On?

My jaw dropping news of the day is that Danny Sullivan is leaving SES and SEW. He posts his reasons on his blog. In the 7 hours since he made the post, there are already dozens of testimonial comments from the who’s who of the search world.

I won’t really comment further, but it’s somewhat ironic that I just wrote a column about the SES franchise and Danny’s involvement in it.

Danny Sullivan is as much a part of the industry as anyone. The SES/SEW franchise has helped shape the industry. It’s one of the Internet’s great stories, and one that I’m happy I got to see first hand.

Godspeed Danny.  You’ll be missed in one part of our virtual world, but I know you’ll be helping create another.

Psst – Want a Hot Spot Paisano?

First published August 24, 2006 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Surgeon General’s Warning: Prolonged exposure to the Internet can lead to physical dependency and addiction. Use of the Internet can increase levels of anxiety and reduce attention spans.Hello, my name is Gord, and I’m addicted to the Internet. I didn’t realize I was addicted until I recently spent three weeks in Europe and had to go through withdrawal. But after hanging around hotel lobbies trying to get a hit from a local hot spot, I’ve had to face up to the fact that I can’t kick the habit. I need my broadband, baby!

Fear and Loathing in l’Italia

I didn’t go totally cold turkey. I had my PDA to keep up on e-mails, but it just didn’t give me the rush I was looking for. Here I was, surrounded by the culmination of centuries of artistic achievement, and all I could think about was where my Google hook-up was coming from.

I speak somewhat facetiously, but there’s a lot of truth here. Here’s an online definition of addiction:

    1. Compulsive physiological and psychological need for a habit-forming substance.
    2. The condition of being habitually or compulsively occupied with or or involved in something.

It seems to me that going online qualifies on both counts. There’s no doubt that being online is habit forming. But it goes further than that. I realized in the last 20-plus days that it’s hard-wired into my physiology. Not having instant access was as foreign as not having my right hand.

I use online a lot, mainly to access and assimilate information. I enhance what I see in the real world by researching it online, letting me place it in context for myself. And for the past three weeks, every sense I have has been bombarded to the point of overload by input. Art, history, locations, music, literature, architecture, it was all right in front of me. Paris, Florence, Rome: cradles of civilization that I was standing in the center of, and it was if I couldn’t fully assimilate them, because I didn’t have access to an essential part of my cerebral hardware: the right brain, left brain and “wired” brain.

What’s it worth to you, amico?

The analogy carries even further. Accessing the Internet while traveling in Europe is rather like hunting for illicit substances, in that it can be difficult to find and notoriously expensive. Five euros (a little over six dollars U.S.) for fifteen minutes, thirteen euros for an hour, thirty euros for a day… I have a price list for hot spots around the continent imprinted in my memory.

I wasn’t the only one that went through withdrawal. My wife and two daughters showed similar symptoms, but for different reasons. For me, it was losing a logical and information-gathering extension of myself. For them, it was losing a communication channel. They have adopted e-mail as a primary way of keeping in touch (and instant messaging, in the case of my oldest daughter), and they felt somewhat cut off. This was somewhat demonstrative of the way men and women tend to use the Internet, something I talked about in a previous column.

This is your brain on high-speed

But addictions aren’t always harmful. One could argue that we’re addicted to oxygen. Breathing is certainly habit-forming. So is there anything wrong with developing a strong dependence on the Internet?

One theory that I have is that our brains tend to gear up a notch when we go online. There is so much we do through computers that we have difficulty  maintaining linear thinking when we’re online. Even if we’re focused on one task, there’s the knowledge that there’s e-mail to check, things to look up, a hundred other things that we could be doing. Being online seems to increase our level of both anxiety and distraction, just because it’s so damn useful in so many different ways. Focus is a tough thing to maintain.

We have seen manifestation of this trend in the way people act when online. It’s nothing short of frenetic, skipping all over the page, multi-tasking, grasping information in a hundred little forays around the screen. It’s a different interaction from much of what we do day to day. Is it harmful? I’m not sure, but it does seem to be making permanent changes in the way we learn and communicate.

Anyway, I’m back in the office tomorrow, and will once again have my cerebral cortex plugged back into the Matrix. I’ll be wired again. I guess that’s a good thing, but I’m sure going to miss the espressos, Chiantis and Calabrese salsiccia.

Oh, well, everything in life is a trade-off.

European Vacation – August 22

I have mixed feelings today. We’ve been gone for 3 weeks, and I’m ready to go home. But I’m also sad about ending what has truly been the vacation of a lifetime. This has been a tremendous experience for us all, and each of us fully appreciate it. The experiences and memories have crowded their way into my consciousness, and I feel shell shocked at all we have seen and done.

I am so glad I’ve managed to keep this blog up, mainly written on numerous trains and planes. It has allowed me to keep a running timeline of the trip, and hopefully it will allow be to later slot the right memory in the right place. We have over 1500 photos between us, several hours of videotape, and between the blogs, the video and the pictures, I think we have managed to capture and chronicle the essence of our trip.

We have seen amazing pictures and sights, but for me, it will be people that form the most valuable memory. The generosity of Lina, Gaetan and our families in France, Nathalie negotiating with the French police in Paris, the unexpected hospitality of Didier and Nadine in Montvernier, the bicycle ride with Marc, Gilles and Yves through the French countryside, the sweetness of Gassime and his Nonna housekeeper in Florence, the surliness of the Italian tourists in Sorrento (I didn’t say they were all good memories), the new family I met in Calabria and “Go, go, go Hotchkiss” (which has since become yet another Hotchkiss insider joke) and the professional prowess of the staff at the Hilton in Rome. You know at the end of the Olympics when they flash the highlight reel and you feel a rush of bittersweet feelings (or is that just me)? That’s how I feel as I write this. The memories of the past 3 weeks are flashing through my mind, and it one way it seems like a years worth, and in another, it seems like we just departed yesterday.

It was with sadness that we departed the luxury of the Hilton this morning. Although it’s far removed for our regular lives, it was a sweet taste of luxury for all of us. Flori and Anna left early for one last tour down to Sorrento, Pompeii and Naples (they haven’t seen this part yet) and they’ll be flying back in 3 days. We packed and headed for the airport on a clear, hot Roman morning, Jill, Alanna and Lauren determined to squeeze a little last minute shopping in. We boarded the flight, with several more security checks due to the recent arrests in England, and right now I’m somewhere off the coast of Newfoundland, on my way to Atlanta. We still have a long day ahead, with another 5 hour flight to Portland, then a short hop to Seattle where we have our last overnight, then on to Kelowna tomorrow morning. I doubt I will bother blogging the rest. There’s nothing really exceptional about flying from Portland to Seattle, as nice as both those cities are.

This vacation was a challenge to take. I’ve never taken 3 weeks off before. Thank you to my incredible team at Enquiro for letting me do it with complete peace of mind. But I’m so glad we did. This was more than a vacation. I think for each of us, this changed us in a perceptible and significant way. The memories shared here will continue to build our family foundation. I’ve always wanted to expose my children to the treasures of the world, and this one trip has substantially moved that goal several steps forward.

I’ve also been able to temper my North American ambition with a European appreciation for the moments of life that I think we too often ignore on this side of the Atlantic. There is a balance there that is important, and I’ll be striving to find it more often in our lives. And I have fallen in love with France and Italy. Like all love affairs, the success lies in total acceptance, both of the gifts and faults. There is a lot to love, and a lot to find fault in. But really, the secret is just to enjoy it all, and leave it to stamp its own impression on you, rather than you on it.

Thank you so much, from all my family. We will be back! We’ve already started the planning.

European Vacation – August 21

This was our last full day in Italy, and I wanted to squeeze every last minute from it. Another breakfast at the Executive Club and we talked the shuttle driver into dropping us off close to the Vatican. We arrived just after 8:30, but even then the entrance line up was more than a kilometer long. We had been told it moved quickly though, so we decided to forego the numerous offers of guided tours that would slip us past the lines (at 30 euros per person) and try our luck in the line. It took 90 minutes, but we were in the vast Vatican Museum just after 10 am, 180 euros richer. We rented the little audio guides and started wandering through the massive labyrinth.

There is little on earth to compare with the Vatican Museums. The galleries, loggia and past pope’s apartments are all works of arts in and of themselves. Although busy, the line ups weren’t too bad as we wound our way through room after room, filled with incredible frescoes, statues and tapestries. I spent several minutes in one room, where Raphael himself had painstakingly painted the vivid frescoes on each wall. This was a once in a lifetime experience, that culminated in a crowded trip to the Sistine Chapel. I challenge anyone not to be tremendously impressed with this incredible work of human hands. The only downside..the swarms of Japanese tourists that ignored repeated warnings about taking pictures of the artwork. Inside, I was screaming, “Just take a damned look..you don’t need your picture in front of it! Enjoy the art, for Christ’s sake!” But even I knew these thoughts were better left unspoken, especially considering my current location. I did manage to get my hand in front of the lens on several different shots though, so I left with some sense of satisfaction.

After the museums, we emerged to find the line up had shrunk to a fraction of its former length. A 30 minute wait and you’d be inside. I was beginning to think the horror stories I had heard about 3 and 4 hours in line were just a way for hotels to sell more ridiculously priced tours. After grabbing a quick panini outside the museum, we threaded our way around to St. Peter’s.

There is perhaps no place on earth that has been more successfully designed with one single purpose in mind, and that’s the scare/impress the “hell” out of you, literally. From the famous square to the massive basilica, everything was designed to make you feel tremendously small and insignificant, and it works. We took a quick side trip to the sepulcher of the popes, which I highly recommend. The newly finished tomb of John Paul II was particularly poignant, and several people stopped in front to pray, give thanks and shed a few tears. Everyone accompanying me were raised Catholic (I was raised Anglican) and I could tell this place held a special significance for them.

After, we entered the Basilica. I have visited a few large churches, including Westminster Abbey, but this one topped them all. The sheer scale by itself makes it unforgettable, but add to this the sacred art, footballs fields of marble (remember, pretty much all pilfered from the Palantine palaces), Michelangelo’s amazing dome and the precious metals adorning every inch and this is a visit that overloads all the senses. A visit to St. Peter’s leaves you feeling awestruck and slightly battered.

We physically couldn’t take in one more thing, so we caught a taxi back to the hotel and rested up for a night visit back to Rome. This time, we tried out the pool and I attempted a visit to the fitness center. To be honest, my heart wasn’t really in it (and my gall bladder was rebelling against too much rich food) so I wrapped up by joining the rest by the pool.

We headed back into Rome at about 8 at night, and tried to complete our “seen it, done it” list, as well as pick up a few souvenirs for home. In rapid succession we did the Trevi Fountain and threw our coins in, the Spanish Steps (and climbed to the top), the Pantheon and the Piazza Navone. As we walked from one to the other, we found crowds at each, migrating between them following the same route we did. Perhaps it was the length of the day, perhaps it was the miles our feet had put in, perhaps it was just sensory overload, but I don’t think we fully appreciated this “postcard” tour of Rome. We wrapped up at the Piazza Navone and went back to the hotel to pack. There was one appropriate moment though. As we waited for the girls at the Trevi Fountain outside one of the endless blur of souvenir shops, we listened to someone sing Arrividerci Roma at an outside Ristorante. It was a perfect finishing note to the trip.

European Vacation – August 20

“Oh my god, that’s not a bed, that’s a religious experience!”

It has been a long time since my last good sleep, but something about the several hundreds of  dollars of bed linens (the Hilton sold them, and supplied us with a price list in the room. One pillow went for 300 euros!) and a mattress that defies imagination seemed to do the trick. I could happily have spent the rest of my life in that bed.  But today, we had Roma to explore, so I dragged myself from the comfy confines.

As Jill and the kids were getting ready, I explored the room for a bit. Thank God for Hilton Points, because this would never be a hotel that we could ever stay at on our own tab. Prices in the mini bar started at 10 euros for a small bottle of water. Room Service breakfasts started at about 50 euros per person. The bottle of Spumante supplied by the hotel was also 50 euros. And the rooms we were in went for almost 900 euros a night at rack rate. This was not a hotel for the economically challenged.

First  stop, the Executive club room for breakfast. It proved to be as delicious as last night’s supper, with fresh fruit, real eggs and bacon (a rarity on the continent), along with the staples of hotels breakfasts we had become used too, cold cuts and cheese, breads and pastries. The hotel also offered champagne to accompany the freshly squeezed orange juice. This was dangerously addicting!

After breakfast, we caught the hotel shuttle down close to the train station, with was also the main transit plaza in Rome. Rome operates an open air tourist bus called the A110 Trambus, which did a circuit of the major attractions. Our plan was to get tickets, do the full circuit and then get off close to the Colosseum and the Palatine Hill.

On the shuttle, we met another family from Minnesota and Toronto who had a similar plan. We waited in line for the bus and finally climbed aboard one ready to do the circuit. The bus hit the major stops, including the Piazza Venezia (close to the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Palatine Hill and Circus Maximus), Vatican City and St. Peter’s, the Trevi Fountain and assorted other monuments and ruins. After doing the complete circuit, we got off and the Piazza Venezia, the main heart of Rome, and started off for the Colosseum. After seeing a rather imposing line up, and learning that we could get on a guided tour and skip for line for 9 euros per person, we decided to go this route. The tour guides were supposed to be English speaking, but we got a native Roman who spoke with a rather thick accent and who’s primary English “go to” phrase appeared to be “okey dokey”. Still, it was interesting, although it was insufferably hot (about 38 degrees Celsius). We did the tour, then exited the Colosseum for the second half, a tour of the Palatine hill with another guide, this time an Australian named Amanda.

In my opinion, the Palatine Hill was the more interesting of the two. Amanda seemed to be the reincarnation of Mary Poppins but she was understandable and had a lot of interesting facts to share. Lauren whispered that she must have been a kindergarten teacher and I suspect she was right.

A quick background on the Palatine Hill. It seems to have been the founding location of Rome, one of the seven hills that formed the early city, and the one that legend says was chosen by Romulus himself for his new home. From that day, it was the location of most of the imperial palaces, just up from the Forum, which was the heart of the ancient city. In every major language, the word for palace is derived from “Palatine”. Left to fall into disarray in the middle ages, most of the marble that formed the facades of the huge palaces was looted for the construction of the Vatican, a practice that has left just a few crumbling ruins and foundations of the once mighty location. Still, it offers a fascinating glimpse of the excesses that eventually led to the downfall of the Roman Empire. Huge dining halls next to the aptly named vomitorium (not a myth, but a real practice), private stadiums for gladiator games, massive living quarters cooled by adjacent fountains, this was “La Dolce Vita” at its extreme. As we wondered around the ruins, picturing what once was, I was struck again by the embarrassment of historic riches that typifies Rome. As Amanda was talking in one section, a few of the group sat on the first available seat they could find. In this case they chose a toppled roman marble column that had to be 2000 years old. In any other city in the world, this would be a priceless treasure locked behind glass in a museum. Here, it was a handy park bench.

I couldn’t help but think about the lifestyles that typifies the rise and decline of the Empire. In the beginning, guided by the ambition and astuteness of Julius and Augustus Caesar, the empire flourished. But as lands were conquered and slaves become plentiful, the Romans no longer had to work and the culture fell into a several century long downward spiral of boredom, excess and senseless gratification. The stratification of the society became extreme, with the highest classes (noble families, senators) living in unimaginable luxury and the slaves being considered a renewable resource to be used and discarded as they lost their usefulness. In between, there were the Plebians, the Roman citizens that were entitled to the privileges (i.e. not having to work) that came with their birthright, but who were perpetually stuck to the “cheap seats”. It was for this class that the Colosseum was built. The more bored they became, the more potentially dangerous they became as lawlessness took hold. The solution was to provide a never ending cycle of festivals and celebrations, entertainment (like the gladiator games), complete with free food and wine. Of course, this lower class was well separated from the higher class, restricted to the upper most levels of the Colosseum.

Another interesting insight was to realize the lowered status of women in Roman society. They were basically possessions, with no rights and little status in society. Of course, this is not that different from our society as recent as a 100 years ago.

Somewhere, there’s an interesting line to be drawn from these roots of Italian culture to the attitudes of today, but I lack the expertise or knowledge to be the one to do it.

By the time we wrapped up our tour of the Palatine hill and walked down through the remains of the Forum, we were exhausted and hungry. We turned a nearby corner and grabbed a quick dinner at a nearby trattoria, then caught the metro back to our shuttle stop to return to the hotel.

At the hotel, we grabbed a shower, then resumed our place in the Executive club for a late night drink and dessert  Tonight, we managed to grab a table out on the balcony overlooking the pool, where we could hear the poolside pianist and sipped a glass of wine as we watched the lights twinkle down below in Rome. A perfect night cap.

European Vacation – August 19

This was the day we headed for Rome. We knew today was going to be a jammed travel day, and it lived up to our apprehensions in every possible way. We were unable to get seats on the high speed direct train, so we got up at 5 to catch the local train to Napoli, where Anna was too visit her Uncle for a few hours before continuing on the Rome. Again, the best laid plans often go to hell in Italy.

We got to the train station and climbed on a little commuter train to Paola. The brief 20 minute journey went according to plan, but that was the last thing that did today.

In Paola, two trains were going to Napoli. The first one was more direct, but required an additional fare and was quite busy, so we weren’t guaranteed a seat. We decided to try our luck on the local train that was supposed to be following in 20 minutes. Word of warning, in Southern Italy, don’t believe the train schedules, especially on the weekend following Ferragosta. Our train was about 40 minutes late. No mater, we actually found seats on the un-air conditioned train and started off. But as we pulled into the beach resort communities north of Paola, more and more people piled on the train, heading for Naples, and no one got off. Soon, we had people hanging out windows, sitting in the aisles on suitcases, sitting 2 to each seat, all sweating in the mid August heat. With the Italian disregard for waiting and orderliness, each stop turned into a shoving match. As we pulled into the station (increasing late as we went along) the people waiting would start cheering, as the people hanging out our windows yelled and jeered at them, telling them they would be better off walking. It was like a portable soccer game, complete with hooligans, on rails. Adding to the scene were a few people, obviously nervous about making their connection in Napoli. One in particular would shove his way to the door every stop, stepping over suitcases and pretty much always stepping on my foot, to check our progress with the conductor. With each stop, his anxiety mounted.

As we pulled into Naples, he vaulted past everybody, was the first off the train, asked his friend to pass him his suitcase through the open window, jumped across the tracks and ran to the binario (platform) where a high speed train was ready to pull up. He ran to the door and pleaded for them to open it. Everyone on our train was following the drama through our windows. He hammered on the door, but to no avail as the train pulled from the station. Our train showed our empathy with a collective “Aaah”. His frustration must have reached the boiling point, as he launched his fist at the passing train. The last I saw of him was as he was having a rather involved little chat with Napoli’s Carbinieri (police).

We got off the train, almost 2 hours late, found we only had about an hour til the train to Roma, and started looking for Anna’s uncle. Flori and I did the tour of the station while the girls stayed with the luggage. As we walked, I asked Flori what the uncle looked like. “Well, he’s short, older, kind of like that guy,” as he pointed at someone passing by us. We continued to walk, when Flori suddently stopped and took a second look. It was our long lost uncle. We squeezed in a quick visit over take out pizza as we got on board our train to Rome. This time, we managed to get a first class cabin, relatively uncrowded, with air conditioning. After the conditions of the last train, it was pure luxury.

As we neared Rome, we began seeing examples of the antiquity of the city beside the tracks. A large aqueduct that was at least several centuries old ran parallel to the tracks for several kilometers. As we got closer, we saw other ruins of incredible age, sitting unheralded in the countryside. It was amazing. In any other city, they would be revered attractions, and here, they were just part of the landscape. It was this fact that stuck with me about Rome. We arrived in Rome, almost on time, and caught two taxis (we couldn’t find one large enough to accommodate 6 people and 10 suitcases) to the hotel. As we drove through the streets of Rome, I got my first taste of the city. Again, it was the ancient ruins that struck me more than anything else. They sat sprinkled throughout the city. Paris was beautiful, but Rome was like living in a archeological digs. As you went through the city, the historic strata was there to see. Ruins from the very beginnings of Christendom, medieval palazzos, glorious architecture from the 17th and 18th centuries, austere showpieces of fascist power from the Mussolini era, and gleaming modern buildings, all mixed in an incredibly rich tapestry of historical significance. And people go through the streets, not seemed to recognize the uniqueness of their surroundings. Even without the historical significance, Rome would be a beautiful city, but with it, there is no where in the world quite like this. It is truly la Citta Eterna, the Eternal City.

The taxi ride was brief, as we climbed from the station to our hotel, the Cavalieri Hilton, high on a hill overlooking Vatican City. I had redeemed points from business travel and had read that this was a beautiful hotel, but I had no idea. We pulled in front, round a circular driveway and up to the front doors. From the minute we stepped out of the taxi, we knew we had arrived in a privileged world of luxury. The Hilton Cavalieri is a 5 star hotel, known as one of the most luxurious in the city. And we had just spent several hours on trains from Southern Italy, much of the voyage without air conditioning, in our wrinkled summer vacation traveling clothes, with several bags and at least two shopping bags reeking of strong Italian cheese and sausage. One can imagine the clashing of appearances that happened when we entered the Cavalieri Hilton. No matter, the greeting was warm, gracious and seemed sincere. I stepped up to the registration desk and was told as a Hilton Diamond VIP, they had a special place for us to check in. I suspect it was a place as far removed from the olfactory senses of the other guests as possible. A strikingly beautiful hostess (even Jill agrees on this point) smoothly steered us through the check it, including the obligatory mix up with our kids (a cot had to be added to one of the rooms) but it was all handled with grace. Then she walked us up to our room. As I looked over at my family, trying to remain inconspicuous in the sumptuous marble lobby, I could tell they felt a little out of place, but our hostess soon made us feel at ease. We were on the Executive Floor, in adjoining rooms. We climbed to the 8th floor, and I marveled at the beauty of the hotel. I stay in a lot of hotels. On our first night, in New York, we stayed at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York. It was nice, but in my opinion, highly over-rated. But I don’t think I’ve ever stayed at a more beautiful hotel than this. Real renaissance art was hanging in the hallways! The only place that even comes close is the Phoenician Resort in Scottsdale, but this was in a league of its own.

We started with a quick tour of the Executive Club room, a place we were to become very accustomed to in the next few days. It was a beautiful lounge, richly appointed, with a snack buffet that was changed 5 times a day, from 7 in the morning to 11 at night. It was on the 7th floor, overlooking the expansive gardens and pool area, with a to die for view of Rome out the windows leading onto the terrace. Our jaws dropped still further.

Then we were lead to the rooms. While no hotel rooms in Europe can be called expansive, these were certainly roomy, and very sumptuously appointed, with a to die for king size bed, piled high with cloud soft pillows, duvets and linens. The hotel has given us a bottle of spumante on ice as a thank you, along with a platter of snacks. After a long and tiring day, this was just what we needed. Everyone in the party was grinning from ear to ear. It was a perfect choice for our last European hotel of the trip.

We freshened up and then went to grab a light dinner in the club room. Unlike other Hiltons, here everything, including beverages, was complimentary. And no tired and limp cheese platter and unidentified deep fried bits here. It was cold cream of tomato soup (intentionally cold, and delicious), tempura chicken, delicate potato tarts, cheese, breads, small salads and much more. We easily constructed a very satisfying supper. As we relaxed with cappuccinos after several trips to the buffet (at first I felt a little like the free loading house guest, but I noticed all the other guests were walking away with laden plates as well), they changed the buffet to a dessert one. We loaded up again and watched the lights twinkle in the city below, with the dome of St. Peter’s dominating the skyline. It was an amazing close to the day.

European Vacation – August 18

The plan today is to spend an hour or two at the beach at Campora, then have lunch at Flori’s cousin (in the garage), do a little more visiting, then return to Cosenza, return the rental van, squeeze in a couple more visits, and then try to get to bed for an early train ride to Rome tomorrow.

We drop Flori off at his cousins (he has business to do regarding the selling of his land) and head to the beach. There’s a long line up of cars stretching almost from Falerna to Campora, all heading to the same place, a stretch of beach. We find our own spot just south of Campora and staked out our little area.

My previous experience with swimming in the ocean has primarily been in the Pacific, off the coasts of BC/Washington/Oregon/California. The Pacific is cold, and the color is usually an angry grey/green color. The Mediterranean is a deep blue, and is much warmer. The stretch of beach we found was part of a mostly unbroken stretch going from Amantea in the North to far south of Falerna. The beaches were punctuated along the way to numerous small resort towns, the historic buildings fighting for space with the new resort villas that were popping up everywhere. This area boasted what are probably the best beaches in Italy, and the government has been aggressively promoting tourism in the area. The results can be seen in the string of hotels that now line the beaches. The only negative was that when the rails were laid for the trains, the engineers obviously followed the path of least resistance and chose the flat ground beside the beaches. This means that most of the resort towns are separated from the beaches by the tracks that run down the west side of Italy.

The kids and I got our feet wet (actually, one surprise wave pretty much doused us from head to toe) and soaked up the sunshine and the Mediterranean for 90 minutes, then we headed back to rejoin Flori for lunch. By the time we arrived, the table was groaning under the load, with huge dishes of pasta, eggplant casserole, deep fried pumpkin flowers (very tasty, believe it or not), stewed beef (cooked in the sauce), homemade sausage, tomato salad and homemade olives. It was all incredible. For some reason, food in Italy just tastes better. I’m not sure if it’s the atmosphere, the freshness, or some trick of the senses, but I didn’t question, I just enjoyed.

After a little more visiting, we headed back to the hotel, where we were to head out for one more visit. But for me, the last 2 and a half weeks suddenly caught up with me and I hit my bed, unable to arise. Flori and Anna headed out, as the Hotchkisses watched a little more Italian television and called it an early night.