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They are but a handful among the thousands of journals, Web sites, list servs, press releases and the like that we could encounter. Many mainstream readers and viewers -- not to mention mass-media writers and editors -- are only now learning the differences between adult stems and embryonic stems, between therapeutic cloning and reproductive cloning -- never mind the implications of research. For him, a man who might walk again if certain genetic work succeeds, it is not simply acceptable but morally imperative to use unfertilized eggs to grow stem cells. These past few months, I have managed to worm my way into places where I technically don't belong in order to claim a front-row seat to history.

By telling the stories of the researchers, I hope to bring the research to a wide and general audience. We don't like bugs, the ticks and mosquitoes especially, and anyway, we're drawn to the beach at Wallum Lake, which is just up the road. Every year the mountain laurel and pine claim more of the path, and this year was no exception, but there was still plenty of room -- more than sufficient, I informed Cal, for another good flying- saucer run this winter. The air seemed fresher as we continued, the light through the foliage stronger, and soon enough we'd reached the peak.

An inventory of our pockets disclosed sticks, pebbles, acorns, flowers, mushrooms and a bright yellow leaf, which Cal had selected for his mom. All passengers casually look up at a large electronic tote board that lists gate assignments. I could see the white cliffs of Dover as we crossed over the English channel and flew across to France. Sounds of French, Italian, Spanish and several other languages swam around our ears as we sat musing about where we were. At the top of the steps, we crossed a small terrace and looked down into the elegant rubble that is the remains of the Roman Forum.

Its several tiers, all filled with open arches, even now reminds me of the many sports arenas we had visited. Then, we set out over the very pricey Via Condotti, browsing the windows of Bvlgari, Gucci, Ferragamo and a score of other trendy shops. We wandered the back alleys, consulting our trusty map and once asking a merchant for directions. The trouble with asking questions in passable Italian is that the hearer assumes you speak the language fluently and rattles off a response in rapid fashion. We showered and prepped for the day. NCL was putting on a buffet breakfast in the hotel for the early cruise ship passengers.

Three hundred and fifty cruise passengers had booked a few days in Rome and were expected this morning. We were debating where we would head next, when we noticed that the line had lessened for St. I said a brief prayer for all of those whom we had lost and moved on to the marbled hallway. A small pile of stone cannonballs lay next to what must have been the remains of a medieval catapult, used to bomb the attackers with.

A few tug boats and a single scull, powered by a lone oarsman, were all that broke the surface of this venerable and storied river. We slowly climbed the winding steps, to its heights, noting the occasional bum sleeping in the park bushes. We walked along the parkway, dodging the odd service truck, and admired the imposing bulk of the Villa Borghese, sitting on a hill above us. A group of Spanish school kids were singing happy birthday to one of their group amidst much laughter. I signed up for an hour with the hotels internet station 20 euros and sent a number of messages to friends and relatives across the ether of cyberspace. Then, we settled in with paninis, chips,acqua minerale con gassata and a good bottle of Chianti, while we read our books and got ready to join The Norwegian Dream for an itinerary we had long anticipated.

Like all liners, the boat is equipped with motorized, ocean-going tenders that are wholly enclosed and hold up to passengers when full. It was followed with a nice spinach salad, a grilled tuna steak and a delightful cannolli and decaf cappuccino. Ensconced within are all of the original statuary and murals from the exterior of the church. As the marble became worn, throughout the centuries, artisans had replicated the original statuary and remounted them on the facade.

We elected to choose again the Trattoria for dinner, where we were seated with Ray and Sarah from Atlanta. Geographically, the rocky headland of Porto Fino separates the gulfs of Tivuglio and Paradisio. We enjoyed the colorful front street of nice hotels, shops and restaurants, as we exited the bus in the rain. The harbor area rings a small marina, with wonderful sailing yachts scattered amidst the smaller craft. A light rain and a 42 degree chill greeted us, as we stood topside to watch the Dream get underway. The Mediterranean Sea sparkled a dazzling blue against the bright sun and lighter blue of the sheltering sky.

Francois Grimaldi, the founder of the line, came to the area in , with a small army of soldiers, all disguised as monks. The crenelated battlement of the original castle had been added to over the generations to produce an odd hybrid. Along the roadside, at several intersections, sit scale, bronzed models of Le Mans race cars, denoting the world famous auto race that roars through the streets of Monaco every May. We skipped breakfast and had coffee topside, admiring the Marseilles harbor and the surrounding mountains, in the bright, Easter-morning sun. It is now the second largest city and largest commercial port in France, with one million people living in the metropolitan area. A score or so of fishermen were minding stalls that sold fresh fish, everything from whole squid and lobsters, to eels.

The kind and elderly woman, perhaps a nun in mufti, helped clean the wound, put antiseptic ointment on it and dressed it in gauze. The city had erected three separate, exterior walls, for defensive purposes, as the city evolved over the centuries. Unfortunately , Antonio Gaudi was killed, in a traffic accident, at a young age and construction was interrupted. Built for a world exposition, this elegant structure and plaza is now an art museum. American Presidents and their favorite foods. We chose a Gerald Ford, Norwegian, salmon appetizer. We had a definite sense of anticipation for our long awaited Italian adventure. Next, we set out in search of the Central Holidays Tour guide who was scheduled to meet us.

Off in the distance you could see the snow covered Alps. Garlands of dirty gray clouds, pregnant with rain, ringed the mountain peaks like ringers tossed in a carnival game. From the towering mountains nature had gouged out , like the four fingers of a hand, a deep and scenic glacial lake. We stopped by the famous Swiss Jeweler Bucherer and admired their pricey wares. The jeweler gave us a silver spoon as a memento. We noticed a sign for the pool Piscina and headed down to the basement for a relaxing swim. The water was heated and we luxuriated in its warmth.

Night had fallen and the lake shore was atwinkle with illumination beneath the ponderous shadows of the towering mountains around us. Inside, Emmanuella our guide gave us a narrated tour of the opera house and accompanying museum. The shops lined a cross shaped and tiled arcade that was covered high above by a peaked glass roof. The four corners of the cross were open to the air and a fountain gurgled at the join of the cross arms.

The barking dog. The Streets of Verona are narrow and picturesque. You must first cross a paved causeway, stretching from the mainland for a mile, to reach this island city. Mahogany bannisters and woodwork, Venetian glass fixtures and fabric print wall paper give the hotel an ambiance of quiet elegance. Like most tours and cruises, meals are the less harried periods of the day and the time to share impressions and experiences of the day before. Arched pedestrian bridges crossed the many small canals as we made our way to the center of Venice,The Piazza San Marco. This building and all of Venice is built upon pilings sunk into the bottom of the lagoon.

Minor tremors and other earth movements often shift the surface below. After a brief demonstration in glass blowing, an army of sales people descended upon us to show us the many colored and world famous Venetian glassware. At 12 Noon, we met up with our group for a Gondola ride down the many small canals of Venice. Later that afternoon we set out along the narrow alleyways to find the Academia Art Museum. We had eggplant with grilled tomato and vegetables, pasta with clams, sole, insalata, and tiramisu all washed down with Soave Bolla and Mineral Water.

Then, we had a quick breakfast with the Meads and browsed the streets near the hotel one last time. The taxi dropped us off at the head of the causeway where we boarded our Central Holidays bus and set off for the one hour drive to Padua. The School was hundreds of years ahead of the rest of Europe in dissecting cadavers for research purposes. Groves of olive trees are clustered everywhere along the hillsides.

No arable land appears to be wasted. The streets were impossibly narrow and lined with cars and the ever present and annoying motor bikes. Rape of the Sabine Women. The windows are open to the light and you can look out, from one end of the upper gallery, to the Arno River below. The Europeans seem to consciously expose their children to art and literature and culture on a much greater scale than we do.

We ordered 16K and chatted with the bar tender in our best Italian and enjoyed the ambiance of the place. The Villa is a pale- yellow, two -story Italianate mansion sitting amidst sculpted floral gardens and overlooking the Tuscan countryside. The waiters served us courses of Insalata, Risotto, pasta con mushrooms, Potatoes with cheese and peas and a lemon torte for desert. It always seemed like a carnival and it was enjoyable just to stop and watch the swirl of people and events. As we passed the beautiful shore of Lake Trebbiano, Lucio explained the significance of this sight in Roman History.

Hannibal and his Carthaginian invaders sat undiscovered at the head of the narrow defile along the lake that we now traversed. Two mighty armies and peoples had pounded upon the granite slate of history with waxen mallets,their impressions all too soon faded and worn by the fibrous and scouring sands of time. We and hundreds of others listened to the Mass in Italian and sat respectfully in this historic old church. We sought Cena dinner at a place nearby that Lucio had recommended. It was one of the few restaurants open on Easter Night. It was here that the victorious Roman Generals marched in triumph to the Forum, to receives accolades from the Roman Senate.

The store offered various packages of reliquary that could be sent over to the Vatican to be blessed and delivered later to your hotel room. Hundreds of times I have seen this square on television, as a Papal address was given or more dramatically, when a new pope is elected. Mass was being said at the main altar and priests from many nations were giving confession in a dozen languages.

You could feel the hurt in her eyes and sense the forlorn helplessness of a mother whose child had been taken from her. Built by Pope Sixtus IV as a private Chapel, the church was divided into an inner and outer chapel, separated by a 12 foot, ornate, wrought-iron screen. The first fifteen feet are painted as purple velvet curtains. The texture of the work leads you, from a distance, to watch the curtains lest they move. Marie saw a nice leather coat in a small store and bought it The shop owner formerly had a girl friend that lived in Buffalo. He had even visited once,small world. Pagan, Christian or other, it is a place designed for quiet contemplation and harmony with the elements of nature.

It had been at various times the tomb of an emperor, a fortification,a prison and is now a museum. As we sat in anticipation, the strolling minstrels played the Mandolin,. It was pleasant to walk amidst the Roman night and remember all that we had seen and done in one of the most ancient of European capitols. We watched the trained artisans etch and carve the medallions, rings and various pieces of jewelry from the shells.

The weight of the ash had collapsed all of the ceilings and the effect looked like a scene from a WWII movie after an aerial bombardment. They and the mural in the vestibule, with the outsized priasmic phallus, drew the most snickers from the tourists. Soon we came to the small coastal town of Sorrento, where we were to stay for the next three nights. The bus carried us back to the hotel where we read ,caught up with journal entries and surrendered to a conversation with ozzie nelson.

The lemon and orange trees were swaying gently and the birds were singing happily in the rain. The topic of conversation was whether or not the jet foil trip to Capri was still a go for today. We rolled side to side and jumped the occasional roller. Roberta shepherded us to the funicular that would take us up the hillside to the lower village of Capri. We gazed out across the deep blue Mediterranean, admiring the two massive rock formations in the harbor. The sun was shining and we had a gorgeous view of the bay and mountains along the shoreline. We stopped for ice cream at a small stand and watched the shoppers come and go. It was one of those sunny Mediterranean afternoons that give the area its magic and allure.

Re Artu. The sales rep gave us a demo of the various types of woods used and the process involved in making the elaborately in-laid and finely crafted furniture. It had since been widened but is still a narrow two lanes, traversed by a monstrous crush of tour buses and traffic. We were lucky too have so able a pilot steering us safely over roads as potenially treacherous as these. Tour buses were only allowed in the Southbound direction along the Amalfi drive, because of the hairpin turns and narrow passageways.

We followed a series of five miles of winding and heart stopping switch backs, rising some feet from the valley floor,. Here, a central green space is dominated by statuary depicting the dying St. It was she who had started the custom, followed to date, of including a library and chapel in every Benedictine monastery. Each in his own way had looked after the interests of the order, perhaps in a time of great need for the brothers.

It is covered with lustrous marble and trimmed in gold. The bronze candelabra sparkled in the dim light and I could feel one of those time-warping mind blinks forming. They were the last twenty or so remaining monks in the complex, an unbroken monastic chain stretching from antiquity. Like most Monestaries during the dark ages , the Abbes were centers of learning and repositories for artwork. Perhaps it explains why they were so often sacked by the marauding barbarians.

The Via Condotti and environs were as crowded as usual, with their weekend visitors. We ran into Bill and Marie Mead along the way and decided o take a last look at St. It seemed like we had the known the Meads for a very long time and were casually comfortable in their presence. We stopped for a time and said a prayer at one of the small altars, thinking ourselves privileged to do so. Inscribed upon it is the lineal array of the Popes form Peter, in the upper left hand corner, to Jean Paulus I in the lower right hand corner. It is an unbroken chain of some of the most important and powerful men in History. The room was circular with a high and vaulted ceiling Fluted doric columns supported the walls and the large floor to ceiling windows gave the aura of a private garden in a Roman Villa.

At times like these, you can only pretend not to know the person involved and run for the door. The rice of processed foods, brainless entertainment and lack of physical activity has lowered the level of quality of sleep. He arrived at dusk, and when no one answered his cries, he finally fell into a restless sleep in the dust and half-dead weeds along the front perimeter.

It didn't occur to me then, but somebody must have told him that canvas was about the best protection you could have when you were outside. Night was always the best time to be on the move, whether it was a disposal operation or a raid on one of the few warehouses or stores that had anything left worth raiding. Found it beneath a crucifix on the altar of a burned-out Catholic church in Manchester, New Hampshire, when we were making our way north from Boston.

We were the brie-chablis crowd, the folks with the MBA's and the designer bathrooms who spent weekends on Cape Cod and February vacations in Aspen. In the early days, when the presses still ran and the six o'clock news was still being broadcast, there was all sorts of talk that it had been the test of some new thermonuclear weapon -- more frightening and more secret than the Bomb, which had every true-blooded Yuppie doing flips back then.

We got out of the city in June, before the real panic hit, and we headed up the Connecticut coast. Eventually there was a run on sunscreen and finally supplies dried up, but Mather had been smart enough to buy cases of it before John Q. From a defensive perspective, the tunnel was a dream -- only one entrance, which we kept clear with occasional firefights. Immediately Mather decided to head north, where, he said, we would have the best chance of establishing a camp. You needed brains to build a camp, defend it, find a way to eat -- in our case, a small but successful fish hatchery, supplemented by freeze-dried and canned stuff we'd managed to hoard. The moon was three-quarters full and between that and the usual stunning array of stars we had no trouble keeping up a good clip.

You could imagine being born in that village, growing up there, raising a family, walking your children down the aisle, bouncing your grandchildren on your knee, going to your grave a reasonably satisfied man. They were just beyond the bank of the river, roughly three hundred yards away, a band of people huddled in a circle on flat ground next to a burned-out but still standing barn. Sun and disease had taken their toll, a toll few of the very young or very old were able to pay. The noise was startling, but before anyone down there could react much, I emptied the shotgun in their direction eight times. I suddenly had an old-fashioned thirst for an ice-cold beer, but there wasn't any beer any more.

General Hospital, is exploring a number of new medical treatments, including ones involving gene therapy. I was thinking about tonight's forum, and what I would say about the role and responsibilities of journalists in this new world we have all entered. My eye moved to the titles of the periodicals on the library shelves: Immunology Today, Gene Therapy, and Xenotransplantation, to name a few. At the risk of inferring that some issues deserve a higher standard of journalistic excellence than others, I believe that nothing in the news today is more important than the genetics revolution and biotechnology in general.

Today's intimacy of capitalism with genetics -- of IPOs with DNA -- has brought a new element, even to respected academic labs like the one in Boston. I have that seat, but now comes the real challenge: getting inside the heads of the scientists. Cal insisted on taking the lead and, unlike our last walk, in April, he refused assistance getting past deadfalls. Only a cellar hole is left of the farmhouse, destroyed some thirty years ago in a fire of suspicious origin. I wanted to carry him or at least hold his hand; instead, I took a breath and was silent on the matter. We left the quarry and made our way back to the cart path through a stand of towering Balsam firs, unlike any other on Wolf Hill.

But do you know that sleeping on the left side has immense health benefits to offer you. It will prevent many diseases, improves your heart health, aids digestion, prevents tiredness, improves bowel movements and much more. We had finished packing the evening before, so we had time to stop at a nearby restaurant and had bagels and coffee, while reading the paper. A few of the piccolo mostro little monsters squawked a bit during the flight but it went quickly enough. The neatly outlined farms, of the French country side, flashed below us in a well ordered array. Once, this small area had been graced with rows of gleaming white marble structures, the business, commerce and affairs of much of the western world had been waged here daily.

We dodged their insistent sales pitches and walked out onto the Via Imperiali, walking towards the Vittorio Emmanuel II monument. The fascination of Rome is that you stumble upon these grand and ancient monuments so casually when you turn a street corner. We were headed in the distance towards the Fiume Tiber and the Piazza Navona, another famous gathering place and site of three majestic Bernini fountains. You got so your ear could hear them approach and you knew you had to run like hell to get out of their way.

Four blocks over, we spilled into one of the most famous squares in the modern world. The Piazza San Pietro was already crowded with pilgrims by mid morning. We walked about the piazza enjoying the semi-circle of the grand columns with their statues of popes and saints standing atop them. A line was gathered near a tombed figure with an open, glass side, so we stood patiently in line to see what drew the attention. The frescoes on the walls, the gilded and painted windows and the wealth of two thousand years held us in awe.

I figured a mass and a lighted candle at the Vatican might give him some juice in the far beyond. For 5 euros each, we entered and walked around the inside periphery of this two thousand year old castle. Off the courtyard lies a circular verandah that overlooks all of Rome. We sat for a bit and enjoyed the view, then found a tiny cafe where we had a cappuccino with other pilgrims who visiting the fortress. We retraced our path, down the circular ramp, and exited onto the esplanade along the Tiber, replete with cadres of africans hawking all manner of souvenirs. It is a functioning museum, with a collection of intersting sculptures and art works, but we were tiring with the day and wanted to push on. A swirl of languages provided an auditory bath for our ears, as we walked amid the crowds, enjoying the life and laughter of so many around us.

We had to ask how the Italian key board works, to find the ampersand symbol that is used in e-mail addresses. The lobby was awash with businessmen, attending some conference or other, and hundreds of other cruise-ship passengers wandering about. The surrounding countryside was devoted mainly to agriculture, with many vineyards running along the coast. The papal states took possession of the harbor in the 14th century and it had evolved into the chief commercial port of Rome during unification in We stood in our orange life vests, with whistle and water activated light, and listened patiently to the crew member assigned to us. It is our custom, when cruising, to have a drink at the topside bar and watch the ship leave port. We exchanged several comments in Russian and enjoyed the conversation with him.

Siena is south and east of Florence, a beautiful city of art and culture that we had already visited and enjoyed on a previous trip. We stopped in the Piazza Tolomei, the home of the aforementioned banking syndicate, Monte Dei Pasche. A lively lunch, well seasoned with several flagons of the local Chianti, consisted of pasta and mushrooms in sauce, asparagus risotto, no carne for four , cheese, green beans and salad,finished off with a ricotta cheese desert that was wonderful and accompanied throughout with aqua frizzante.

Looking at these originals gives you an appreciation for the odd seven hundred years that the place had been around. A huge, victory-arch framed three floral gardens that are dedicated to Christobal Colon Columbus and his three ships on their voyage of discovery to the Americas in The lights, of the whole amphitheater of Genoa, were twinkling in the dark as we eased from the harbor and set off Westward along the Ligurian Coast. We drove down the grand boulevard, Avenue Crossette and viewed the huge hotels, the site of the international film festival and even a statuesque column to the emperor, Napoleon. They attacked the surprised Genoese defenders and overwhelmed them, taking possession of the area and declaring it the Principality of Monaco.

We walked along the Boulevard San Martin, passing two pricey homes that housed the royal daughters, and stopped to visit the Church of the Immaculate Conception. We parked at another huge garage and took the elevators and escalators up to a small plaza that houses the Monaco Opera house. Czar Nicholas of Russia, and Queen Victoria of England, and scores of lesser roalty, had been frequent visitors to the area. It is of green and white striped marble construction, like the church in Siena, but much less ornate. We watched as several fishermen worked around their small fishing dories, cleaning and mending nets. Mary took over the job of transcribing my travel notes and agreed to take notes on the next few days tours, until I could manage to grip a pen well enough to write.

It is a nIce turn of phrase. The streets in the area have ornamental wrought iron lamp posts and the buildings are adorned with ornate metal floral designs. Originally planned as a 60 residence housing project for the wealthy, only two homes were ever built. It is flanked by a lovely parkland that stretches along the edge of this hillside and looks out over the city and harbor. We were bouncing messages off satellites, all over the world, and in instant communication with friends five thousand miles away.

The new European Community is in the process of dismantling all of the cumbersome customs checks between its member states. We walked along the Lake promenade and noted with interest the statues of George Washington and the Swiss hero, William Tell. It was too high for me. The last few hundred yards of the journey looked almost vertical in its ascent. We saw musical scores and various mementos from operas created by the Italian masters Puccini,Verdi and Donizetti.

It was rebuilt according to original specifications, by the Italian Government, after the War. The imposing Soave Castle could be seen far off in the distance, dominating a hilltop and commanding the region. We walked them and admired the architecture. Off one small lane we entered a courtyard,that of the Capuletti small hat family. Another motor launch had been hired to carry our luggage to the hotel. Alessandro informed us that on days of the year the square is entirely submerged in the waters of the nearby Adriatic.

In this way, the Venetians insured a reasonable turnover in their chief executives. The average Doge ruled for 9 years. The Venetians had developed the techniques for making transparent glass in the 16th century and later the technique for making glass mirrors by adding silver to one side of transparent glass. These vessels are sleek, ebony, highly -decorated canoe -like structures that operate with one large oar working off a stern mounted fulcrum and a hearty gondolier to propel them.

After some exploring, we came upon the Museum but did not want to fight the hordes of students and tourists already occupying the place. Museum of Modern Art. How were we going to get across without retracing our steps to the nearest bridge far behind us? Around his altar and tomb are pictures, letters and mementos from people who had their prayers answered by St. Many of its streets are lined with a colonade-type of walkway created by an overhanging second story of the buildings. It is a wonderful old trattoria that is a favorite of students and revelers. We descended into a basement that could well have been found in Bavaria. We checked into room , unpacked, wrote some journal entries and tried to relax before dinner. It is faced with green marble and trimmed in both red and white marble.

Next to it and somewhat asymmetrical is the Agiotto bell tower, faced in the same marble motif. Along the hallways, almost casually placed, are scores of Greco Roman statuary salvaged from private villas, public buildings and many other sources throughout the empire. The Florentines had ordered all of the gold merchants to center here in the middle ages. They and many jewelers still plied their trades along this venerable bridge over the Arno. Even the rain could not dampen the splendor of the place. Three fire places were ablaze as we entered the cozy villa. We washed down this magnificent repast with both red and white wine and mineral water as a musical group played Italian folk songs.

We had breakfast with Tom and Nancy Martenis, from Vermont , and then set off walking the narrow streets of Florence. The Piazza Duomo was, as always, awash in tourists. We briefly admired the church, bell tower and Baptistry before continuing on. The sidewalk vendors performed a continual ballet of cat and mouse with the Carabinieri who shooed them away whenever they came upon them. The Ponte Veccio was similarly awash in people. The baptistry is similarly styled and the three building are harmoniously attractive architecturally as a grouping. The Romans, thinking perhaps to catch the Carthaginians unawares, started their march in the predawn hours into the narrow defile. Curiously, scores of tourists still filed down the side aisles headed for the tomb of St.

Francis on the lower level, economics I suppose. The storied and very expensive Hotel Hassler stands at the top of the stairs awaiting the well heeled. We had a wonderful minestrone zuppa, insalata, vegetables with desert, mineral water and several flagons of a tasty red wine, all for the modest sum of 75k Lire for 2. Made of brown brick and originally faced with white marble, it now stands as a crumbling reminder to the glory that was Rome. Much like our own football and baseball stadia, the fans scurried to their seats cursing the traffic and hoping not to miss the thrill of the first contact and the approving roar of the mob.

Nuns and priests from the far flung regions of the world wide church walked respectfully and purposefully amidst the sprawl of tourists from as many countries. Even were it not religious, this carved block of marble would inspire awe and appreciation. It was sunny and warm out and the area was a throng of people. We sat by the fountain and watched the ebb and flow of the tourists as they took pictures, drank from the fountain ugh and milled about, not realizing that the principle activity was to sit and watch the others.

A nice desert and all washed down with mineral water and liberal quantities of Abruzzi wine. She told us that the normal wait could be up to two hours with a line winding back a mile or so into St. It was windy and cool out as we returned to the hotel to pack for our departure tomorrow morning and prepare for dinner. Italy long ago must have been a pyrotechnic land shaking with continuous earth tremors , the skies covered with ash from the erupting volcanoes. It certainly puts everyone on notice to consider well what others will find and view in your home after your passing.

The mind blink was warping in and out as images of ancient people inter phased with the modern tourists walking the lanes. It faces the bay with two wings of four stories of rooms. Five outdoor pools empty into one another on a second and lower terrace A Grand central lobby, with bars and restaurant to the sides, faces out onto a broad patio that overlooks the Bay of Naples. Still who could complain? The lemon and sour orange trees abounded in the hotel garden, the sweeping bay was gorgeous and the warm air wafted over us with the scent of lemon and orange.

It worked for me. Big Sur. We stopped for pictures at a scenic overlook and fruit stand in Positano, the birth place of Sophia Loren. It was a delightful repast. We returned to our rooms to pack for departure and sleep, tired with the long and busy day. The real estate here abouts is consecrated in the blood of many fine young men from lands far and near. On the whole we had found Italian merchants to be uniformly pleasant, inordinately honest and genuinely helpful and patient especially with the exasperating antics of the army of multi lingual tourists. We milled for a time amidst the crowd, enjoying as always people watching and the diversity of the crowd We did not know when we would walk this way again.

Then, we had a lighting 12 minute breakfast with the Meads and ran to catch the bus for the airport. We knew about other parts of the country, where whole camps had been wiped out by typhus, diphtheria, all the diseases that had gone completely out of control since the sky blew off. The only ones we'd disposed of were the ones that got too close or started acting too weird or hung around too long, like stray dogs begging for handouts. She'd probably been pretty once, but the sun had left her skin runny and raw and made her hair fall out.

Pinks layered over blues and oranges and yellows, some soft strokes, some bold ones splashed up there with a powerful hand. He'd told me more than once that killing still turned his stomach, no matter how many times he saw it or did it. At night, you didn't have to worry about whether the ultraviolet was going to burn the skin off your back or make you go blind or cook your brains or fry your sperm. There wasn't a one of us who wasn't making fifty grand then, minimum, not a one of us who wasn't employed with one of Wall Street's or Madison Avenue's most reputable firms.

There was still gas left, although there were shortages and growing lines at the stations, so we drove, charging up a storm on our American Express and Visa cards as we went. From the survival point of view, it gave us decent access to stores and warehouses, particularly those mammoth ones along the waterfront, which were still stocked weeks after everything else ran out. We passed other bands as we walked, and we had some skirmishes, losing two of our original group in the process. It took brains to beat the sun, escape the heat, and it took brains to keep the germs at bay. I wanted to get in and out quickly; I had some business back with Lisa, who'd been my girlfriend in the West Side days, and who Mather had decided was still an acceptable mate for me.

And the cars that were parked in the driveways were beginning to rust; every tire was flat, and roamers had busted the windshields. We'd have a devil of a time tracking them down, and some would probably slip away, and then there'd be hell to pay with Mather. The river wasn't cool, no rivers were any more, but it still felt refreshing around the ankles.

Huddled at their feet in the dirt were a half dozen children, most younger than the kid who'd made it to our perimeter. What there was was hooch, which Mather had discovered you could make from canned peaches, dandelions, anything that had sugar in it, even bark from certain trees. Life-saving protocols already in clinical use have been pioneered in this lab, and I expect that more will follow. And this thought, hopefully not a trite one, occurred to me: The Wright Brothers transported people. It came this year at the customary time, when the sugar maples are at their peak and the oaks are only beginning to turn.

Rusting machinery, barrels and bedframes are strewn about, and the woods are slowly claiming them, too. The quarry has not been worked since the s, but if you look around town, you will see many foundations made of its imperfect granite. You must train your body to sleep on the left side as this is very important. Best Sleep Positions To Stop SnoringAfter reading this article, you will find out the importance of sleeping on your left side. At that instant, the entire passenger compliment, for that flight, drops what they are doing and sprints for the assigned gate, some as far as a 15 minute walk away. Then, the Italian Alps crowded the skyline. They are hills of the craggy and black granite variety, much like our own Rocky Mountains.

The line was long and passengers were annoyed,some engaging in delightful histrionics, replete with loud voices and wild gestures. Now, it took an active imagination to look into the dustbin of history and see what once was mighty Rome. The Coliseum looked majestic, as we looked over our shoulders, like some ancient mirage that would vanish the moment we stopped looking. Spanish Steps. They are a series of broad stone stairways that lead from the Piazza Espanga to the five-star Hotel Hassler, once the site of the Villa Medici, with its distinctive twin towers. We sat in a small park on the Piazza Venezia and looked out over the monument with its huge Italian flags wafting in the afternoon breeze.

It was busy with flight crews coming and going and scores of other travelers from everywhere. The airport location is ideal for weary passengers arriving from all points of the globe. We sat down with a couple from Toronto and had a pleasant conversation. He is a retired fire fighter and she works in food service. Long lines waited to get into the Vatican museum and its moist desired visual prize, the Sistina Chapella Sistine Chapel. The appeared for all the world like a semi circle of stone hawkers calling forth the faithful to come in and see what was cooking inside.

We jumped into line and soon were admitted into the venerable wonder that is the church of St. We scurried over to the entrance to the underground crypt, thankful for the empty bellies of the many pilgrims who now donned the noon feedbag. A long marble hallway, opened every few yards into a grotto with a marble sarcoughogus that housed the remains of another Pope. The stone work had been mended throughout the years, but reflected differing styles of stones and means of repair from the many eras of its menders.

The ornate facade of the Palace of Justice, just up ahead, looks like something from 19th century Paris, in its dirty-gray limestone majesty. Part of the ancient wall of Rome, with its standing city gate, frames the North side of the piazza. At its peak, we looked out over the Piazza del Poppolo and enjoyed the view of much of Rome. At 9 A,M, we walked through the lobby and again dined at the buffet breakfast put on by NCL in the hotel. The cabin was compact, but included a small sitting area, sliding doors onto a balcony and a small bathroom and shower. It was to be our home for the next twelve days. If you ever needed this sucker, in an emergency, it might well pay to know how to hell to get on board the craft.

He was to be one of several of the mostly Phillipino and eastern European wait staff with whom we were to interact. After dinner, we strolled the decks and now open shops they close when in port and enjoyed the comings and goings of the passengers in the lounges. The Pisamonte range hemmed the flat coastal plain into a narrow strip of tillable land, where farmers grew large commercial crops of grapes, sunflower seeds, olives and wheat.

She had been so venerated by the church, that when the Sienese wanted her body interred in the Chiesa San Domingo, Rome had only sent her head and a finger to be buried there, retaining the rest of her remains for veneration in Rome. I am not much taken by religious art, but had to admire the pure artistry in stone so casually laid before us. We were high in the hills and caught pictorial visages of the valleys surrounding Siena, San Gimiano and the nearby towns. Topside, we looked out and viewed the amphitheater of Genoa, that surrounds the busy commercial port. It is impressive enough, but the real treasure, for Americans, is to walk by a simple grave stone, amidst ancient Monagasque royalty, embedded in the floor near the main altar.

Along the waterfront, pricey hotels dominate the grand boulevard for a stretch of seven kilometers. We had the option of a full day tour in Provence, but had decided that too many full day tours were wearing us a little thin. Byzantine in style, like sacre Coeur in Paris, it sits on the site of a much older church first established there in A. Elaborate gates , with decorative iron works guarded the palais. Three marble lions strode atop the impressive gates. Mary, the mother of Christ. It was the McGoldricks 24th wedding anniversary and we had been looking forward to joining them. It is apparently the local custom for Godfathers to purchase ornate cakes for their godchildren on this day.

The impression we got was of a very clean and well ordered city, with little graffiti, litter or urban blight. The three other facades of the church are radically different in design, all reflecting the dynamics of the Spanish church and government in different periods of the cathedrals construction. The ship gathered speed and we reluctantly waived farewell to a beautiful and unique city in Catalonia. Calamari, risotto with shrimp, penne pasta, cannoli and decaf cappuccino all accompanied a Mondavi Merlot. The stitches and wound looked icky, but the tissue was already showing signs it might grow back together. I uncorked a bottle of champagne, that the cruise line had given us, and we toasted our good fortune at being here with each other.

The plane, a wide-bodied monster, was packed to the gunwales with passengers of all types. We spotted a few Central Holidays carry on bags and wondered if these folks would be on the tour with us. It stands for Confederation Helveticorum, the Roman and official name of Switzerland. It has a wonderful pedestrian promenade lined with sycamores and Cherry trees that were just starting to bloom. Historians credit Marini for making popular the use of macadam for the roads surrounding the facility. The soft material quieted somewhat the noise made by the metal wheels of the many carriages passing by and enhanced the acoustical enjoyment of the house. Romeo and Juliet. The Gondoliers and their gondolas competed for space with the water taxis and work boats along the many narrow side canals.

Fettucini with Tuna, salad, Dover sole,risotto with cockles and shrimp,ice cream and coffee, accompanied by red wine and mineral water presented us with a memorable repast. The fourth side is the wonderful Byzantine Masterpiece,the Church of St. Mark , from which the area takes its name. We had a new appreciation for the ornate glassware that we previously thought somewhat tacky. The effect is a vaulted and arched colonnade lined with shops, and safe form the elements. The hands are brutish and large and I wondered at the contrast to the graceful lines of the whole. The eyes look unfocused and stare off into the distance. The golden portals had been replaced by bronze ones, the originals placed in a museum.

A massive swirl of tourists, from everywhere, window-shopped for gold and jewelry along both sides of the the bridge. We had Campari and soda and chatted with our fellow travelers while admiring the casual splendor of the formerly private Villa. We found the Via Turnabuoni and window-shopped the many pricey stores like Gucci, Bvlgari and Cartier. The tower leans about 14 feet off center and is now counter balanced with steel cables and tons of concrete. We took a last walk to the Arno River sensing that it would be a long time before we walked this way again. As they marched into the rising sun they could see only the swirling lake and mountain mists above them. They marched confidently and unknowingly into the grinding maw of a killing machine waiting on the slopes above them.

We sat for a time thawing out and awaiting the luncheon that the hotel was putting on for us. We surveyed, for a time, the swarm of people walking and sitting along the length of the stairs and decided it was time to head back. We laughed heartily about the two sets of Spanish steps and enjoyed the camaraderie and the enjoyment of being in the Eternal City. The heavens opened while we were inside and we felt grateful to the elements for holding off until we were undercover. I could look above to the Papal balcony, now draped in flowers for the Easter address in 48 languages.

Nora shepherded us through the entrance way and via the elegantly paneled elevators, to the second floor level of the Vatican Museum. Three are the works of the master, Botticelli, the others by Perugino and his school, depicting biblical scenes and medieval Italy. His Intelligence section had informed him that the Germans were not occupying the Abbe or using it as a defensive position. We read for a while and then, to the faint odor of lemon and orange blossoms, drifted off to sleep. Our tour company had been thoughtful enough to get one, so we inched into the sea side parking area where some forty other tour buses sat in rows awaiting their camera clicking occupants.

The Moorish arches in the colonnade, along the front vestibule, were visually pleasing and a nice adaptation of another integrated architectural style. Without so daring and capable a wheel man we may well have been sitting in a cafe someplace waiting for the weather to clear. There was even a sign, posted outside the rest stop in Italian, warning of shady characters offering items for sale, with cartoon like bad guys depicted.

The Abbe, and the La Scala opera house in Milan, had been the two national monuments reconstructed by the Italian Government immediately following the war. There should be a novel in here some place. It was cold and windy out with a light rain spattering around us, as we approached the rising entrance of this fortesslike Abbe. A short hallway behind the main chapel leads to a grotto of sorts below the main altar. I could see light reflecting from a rather magnificent chamber tiled in deep blue and gold ceramic tiles. They too had hammered upon the granite slate of history, but with a more hardened mallet whose imprint still remains, alive and vital.

Only time and winsome fate will determine the duration of its impression. For hundreds of years they were a bellicose and fearsome people who dominated, civilized and even terrorized the known world. His body quivered a bit and then his mouth became a fountain of blood, but it didn't last long. She was delirious, talking nonsense about salvation, redemption, apocalypse, all that other Bible crap, like so many of the roamers we'd seen since New York. Back when I was in parochial school, I remember thinking the walls of heaven must look that beautiful.

Didn't have to take your chances bundled in a hundred layers of clothes and sunscreen coating your body like axle grease. Perhaps the good father gave his final sermon, then put it to his head and squeezed off a round. That disposing of them might be a greater logistical problem than we'd had to deal with in a long, long time, maybe ever. The day the looting began in earnest, we grabbed enough canned juices and beef stew and hams for at least a year, according to Mather's calculations. He hadn't assigned Pete a woman, but he had occasional privileges, which he was always pleased to exercise. The trees that once had shaded back yard barbecues now were blighted, their leafless branches waving in the wind like the thin fingers of a skeleton.

Except for the wrinkles, they wore identical expressions: that peculiar hybrid of fright and exhaustion and malnutrition I'd seen on roamers before. On my way out of the barn, I was lucky -- I found a five-gallon can of gas, and it was full. It is one of several labs in New England where I have been hanging around over the last few months. Scientists today are on the verge of being able to DESIGN people -- and if not design them, then certainly change them in ways that can -- or should -- make their lives better and longer.

Often lost in the reporting of stem-cell research, for example, is the fact that embryonic stem cells can grow uncontrollably into teratomas, or cancer. Imagine when the first scientist doesn't merely clone a baby, but custom-builds one by manipulating the germline. The temperature at dawn read 29 or 30 degrees, depending on the angle the thermometer was viewed.

We went through the backyard and onto the cart path that ascends Wolf Hill, a fanciful name in the nineties, even for a rural town like ours. We marveled together at a sight as strange as grape vines entwined around a bedframe, and I tried explaining how a house not unlike our own had been reduced to ruin, but I don't believe I succeeded, nor did I really try. It resembles a den, and the forest floor is softly carpeted and often dotted with toadstools -- certainly a spot, I allowed, where elves dance under the starry sky. There are many health hazards of sleeping in any other position other than the left side. The Caribbean flights all fly out of Toronto in the early hours of the day and the European flights in the early evening hours. The hills were laden with snow beneath us as we soared over them.

They looked cold, jagged and forbidding. We collapsed into a dreamless sleep of crowds, noisy children and the other bugaboos of travel crowding our heads. We dressed for the day and walked the half mile over to the airport terminal. Throngs of people were scurrying about. The remaining spaces are crowded by large brick apartment complexes, stretching all along the train line that runs from the airport to Rome. The painted frescoes and saints statues had replaced the many ancient and pagan deities that had once adorned the niches in the walls.

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