More random thoughts

So we finally made it to Italy where the sun is always shining, but it wasn't exactly the Dolce Vita between here (Trento) and Arles (where I left you last). There was a lot of sweat, rain, and Bailey's Irish Cream between here and there and it's not a tale for those with a low tolerance. To start, I'll give you the definition of shambles

Shambles: A state of existence in which one climbs 6000 foot passes in the rain for a week while wearing trash bags on one's feet and while during said period one stops along the shoulder of a major highway to rub lubricating cream on the only warm area of one's body (technically known as the grundel) where the constant friction with the seat has caused an unending burning sensation. At this emergency stop (in order to truly qualify as shambles) a car full of Japanese tourists must come screeching to a halt and a man with a camera must jump out, give one a thumbs-up and gleefully take a long string of photos of oneself in this compromised position. Furthermore, one's attempts to avoid mountain passes in this freezing weather and take longer, flatter routes must ultimately fail because the rain has washed out the roads in the valleys and one must ride farther and climb more than in the original plan.

To my great joy, we finally returned to German-speaking areas in Switzerland, Lichentstein and Austria and I couldn't resist the temptation to ask the first guy I got into a conversation with if he remembered the name of the group that played that great song: YMCA. He of course reminded me and was completely bewildered when I walked away in a state of pure glee. What a helpful fellow...

You've probably noticed that Mats has been posting a lot of pictures. I have been falling behind and I'd like to remedy the situation by posting some of my pictures. However, they don't have the neccessary hardware at this Internet post, so you'll have to make do with my descriptions of some of the better photos.

In Paris I took some wonderful shots of Notre Dame, but my dream of getting a picture taken with the hunchback was shattered when we found out that he was at the Mayo clinic for the week getting some arthritis treatments. We were however able to get pictures with the lesser-known harelip of Saint-Chapelle and clubfoot of the Sacre Coeur. These pictures are truly treasures and I can't wait to post them.

Now that we're in Italy I've also convinced Mats (albeit reluctantly) to help me play a game with the camera that I like to call "Fashion Police". It takes two people to do it well and I'm grateful to have an accomplice. To play, we position ourselves in an area with a lot of pedestrian traffic with one person acting as sentry and the other as sniper. Last night, for example, I sat on a bench on the main street in Trento while Mats acted as sentry from his vantage point by the fountain in the piazza. When an Italian guy with a really bad haircut came his way he would give me the secret sign and I would get my camera ready. The goal is to capture on film these remarkably awful fashions without being sighted. Thus, you need to line up the target with something reasonably photo-worthy so he won't know that he is the real reason for you taking the picture. This can be tricky, but I really want to have proof of how strange the haircuts are here. Last time I returned from Italy I found it difficult to describe what I had seen, but now I can collect them all on film from the mohawk-mullet to the buzzcut with lightning patterns. Even more shocking is the normal-looking Italian women attached to these guys. Now I know that some of you more understanding and compassionate readers will think I'm culturally insensitive and shallow. "I'm sure they have great personalities." or "Every culture has its own sense of beauty." you'll say. However, I know plenty of dogs with great personalities, but I don't take them out to dinner. Furthermore, Italians have the same exposure to Western style magazines and pop culture outlets as the rest of Europe, so why should their sense of beauty be so different. Something is going on here and maybe with a little more Fashion Police I'll be able to get to the bottom of it.