Borders
How can it be that just by crossing one or two arbitrary or imaginary lines on a map, everything changes in the blink of an eye. Just a quick flight from Prague, CR to Lucca, Italy and the colors change from cool to warm with houses of dun colored plaster and green shutters. 
The language changes from the guttural sounds of consonants to the warm passion of vowels, hair from light to dark, skin tones from alabaster to olive, the food from meat and dumplings to pasta and gelato and voila, you are back in the warmth of the Mediterranean life and culture. The magic of travel to transport you, the magic of technology to do it quickly.
There is something so much more familiar about being here. The grazie and prego come rolling off the tongue easily, the menus of penne and ravioli need no translation, the afternoon aperitifs of CampariSoda are pre-made in small bottles and sneakers are everywhere.
It is easy and wonderful to feel a bit of home this far away after being gone so long.
Lucca's two and a half mile medieval wall is brick, not stone, and has survived in tact since it was designed by Leonardo DaVinci, who in all likelihood never imagined the major activity to be biking on TOP of the wall ( actually about 100' wide, the better to absorb the then-new cannonballs) with residents and tourists doing the circumference of the city in less than one easy hour. The wall is so wide, the ramps from the town below to the wall above so many, that it is the road of choice for the bikers, walkers, joggers and baby strollers.
Everyone here bikes both on top and through this charming city of almost no cars. The wall is as familiar as the Atlantic City boardwalk, the pace of Lucca as familiar as the summer at the seashore.
But most familiar are the faces of friends from home. We were lucky enough to have close friends in Italy this summer, with schedules that could perfectly intersect to spend ten days in Tuscany together. Yesterday we met in Lucca, shared a wonderful dinner, a lovely bottle of wine in a charming small square, and of course, a gelato on the walk home.
After ten weeks of traveling alone, speaking more or less only to each other for seventy four dinners, it may not have been familiar to have company at the table, but it was wonderful. I think we can get used to this very easily for the next ten days in Tuscany.
Ciao!
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