Having spent the week after the Olympics in and around the Dolomites, and the week of the Olympics in and around Rome, I was flabbergasted that there was no branding for the Olympics anywhere.

Starting in Rome—not a sign, not even a suggestion that the Olympic Games were happening. Then I went to Venice—again, not a sign, not a hint. The first thing I came across that even represented a brand connected to it was a Coca-Cola can that said “Olympics” on it. That was it.

Even in Milan Airport, when I was leaving, I asked a woman in one of the shops if there were any Olympic T-shirts. She looked at me as if I were an alien and said, “No, we don’t have any of those.” I could have bought an Inter Milan T-shirt or an AC Milan T-shirt, but a Milan-Cortina “once-in-a-lifetime Olympics” T-shirt? No such luck.

It was one of those things that was both charming and absolutely crazy. It also demonstrated just how regional Italy can be. If you’re from Milan, you have nothing to do with Rome. If you’re from Venice, you might not know what’s happening in Milan. Italy is a relatively new country—unified in 1870—and somehow the Olympics really brought that home to me.

And I left without a T-shirt.

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Spent the week of the Olympics in and around Rome, then the week after in the Dolomites… and somehow saw almost no sign the Olympics were even happening. No banners, no merch, not even a hint—until I spotted a single Coca-Cola can with “Olympics” on it.

Even at Milan Airport I asked for an Olympic T-shirt… the shop assistant looked at me like I was from another planet. Inter Milan shirts? Plenty. A Milan-Cortina Olympics shirt? Not a chance.

It was charming, a little crazy, and a perfect reminder of how wonderfully regional Italy still is.

And yes… I left without a T-shirt.

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Even though there are times when Italians seem to find many ways to make me unlove the place… it never works.

Getting into Italy is a little more complicated than it used to be with the new European entry system. When I encountered it in Munich, it was smooth. It went quickly, and everything worked perfectly.

In Italy, however, I had to try the system three times. There was never a shortage of kindness — plenty of uniformed staff were there to guide me — but nothing quite seemed to work. First time, not good. Second time, not good. Third time… nice try.

Eventually, I made it through the hand and face recognition scanner and found myself standing in front of a uniformed officer eager to stamp my passport. He barely even looked at it.

And then I was free.

Free to enjoy the wonder and quirkiness of this place.

No matter what happens, Italy can’t put me off. It’s still my favorite country.

Buying a fridge is a big deal. It costs a lot of money.

You start asking the serious questions:
Double doors or single? Freezer on top or bottom? Ice maker? Filtered water? Crushed or cubed?

But here’s the thing.

The most important part of a fridge is the metal bit called the door.
And the most important question is: Can it support magnets?

Because I want to see my family up on the fridge — held in place by magnets from all the cities and towns I’ve visited.

Yes, it may look a little tacky. But everyone looks for the photos. And everyone goes to the fridge for the WiFi password.

So if you’re feeling fancy and about to buy the very expensive Sub-Zero, ask the first real question:

Does it have a magnetic door?

If not… move on.
And save yourself a lot of money.

Recently, I’ve had to use a rental car because my own car seems to be permanently out of commission. It’s a lemon.

Which means I now get to endure the full rental-car ritual: the insurance interrogation, the add-ons, and all the nonsense that somehow comes with a “$24 a day” rate. It’s torture.

Yes, I’d like a $24 car. Or a $30 car. Or a $40 car. Fine.

Then the next screen pops up:

Would you like to be super sure you’re covered by insurance?

No, I don’t want your insurance.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Are you really sure?

Yes.

Next screen:

Would you like Sirius radio?

No.

Are you sure?

Yes. Pretty sure.

Next screen:

Would you like the highway pass?

No.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Are you really, really sure?

Yes.

Next screen:

Would you like to make sure your gas is full when you return the car?

No.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Are you really, really sure?

Yes.

Next screen:

Would you like to upgrade to another car? Looks like we found you a superior upgrade.

No.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Last question:

We noticed you didn’t insure absolutely everything, and since this is the last time we’ll ask… are you really, really sure?

Yes.

Are you really, really, really sure?

Yes.

Next screen:

Would you like to confirm the car?

Here’s the thing: renting a car in the U.S. is actually easier than in almost any other country. But the endless “are you really sure?” questions can wear you down. And if you’re even slightly unsure whether your credit card covers insurance — and there are a lot of insurance questions — you may end up adding it just for peace of mind.

And suddenly, that $28-a-day car is an $80-a-day car.

You’ve added fuel.

You’ve added insurance.

You’ve added practically everything.

Here’s the kicker: your credit card will almost certainly cover you — especially if you already own a car. Most credit card companies just ask, “Do you have car insurance?” If you say yes, they say, “No problem. Put it through your own insurance and we’ll take care of the rest.”

Gee. Thanks.

They make so much money off this. It’s unbelievable.

So now I do what my son tells me to do: accept nothing. Take the basic rate. And hope that “cheap rate × number of days” equals the total you thought you were getting in the first place.

Because the truth is, these companies lure you in with a $24 rate and then quietly tack on another $76 per day in extras that sound reassuring but make very little sense.

And let’s be honest — rental car companies already carry massive umbrella insurance policies. So this is really just… creative revenue generation.

Which is fine.

As long as I’m not part of the scheme.

Dear Tony,

What are you doing?

You’re at it again. Another global board for “world peace” — or whatever it’s called — filled with nations I’ve barely heard of, and now with Donald Trump as the nominal head.

Then there’s Gaza.
A plan — apparently — to turn it into a beach resort.

Look, I know the Iraq weapons saga may have been, in your mind, an aberration. I know Alastair Campbell still can’t quite bring himself to fully say it out loud. And yes, you’ve done exceptionally well financially in the years since Iraq. There’s nothing inherently wrong with making money.

But this?
This is not the wagon you should be jumping on.

Being close to the President of the United States — this president — is, well, exactly that. Proximity without principle isn’t influence; it’s endorsement. And I honestly thought you would have known better by now.

I used to like you. I really did. I believed there was more judgment, more restraint, more moral clarity left in you.

But this feels like the end of that illusion.

I suppose it’s fitting to say it this way — directly, bluntly, and without ceremony.

No gates or toll booths to check if you’re “legal.” No tap system. No Paris Metro card that still depends on gates and turnstiles. Instead, they rely on you to play the game.

It’s the same system in Munich — the honor system.

It seemed crazy when I first encountered it, but it actually saves an enormous amount in infrastructure and investment.

It reminded me of the autoroute toll system in Slovenia. It doesn’t exist. No toll booths. No people stuck because they’re in the wrong lane — unlike the Italian system next door.

Instead, you buy a sticker and place it on your windscreen. And that’s it.

Think of the money saved.

Of course, both systems have a policing mechanism, but people generally do the right thing. It eliminates wasted time, toll booths, and unnecessary infrastructure — and, in the process, helps create a more accountable society.

Dear Germany,

I love your beer gardens and beautiful Christmas markets. I love the street stalls selling endless variations of sausage and sauerkraut. I love the beer halls, the beer itself, and the breathtaking closeness of the Alps. I love the wonderful everything of it all.

But… whatever happened to German efficiency?

The trains are fine, but nothing feels terribly clear. They’re not especially fast, and when there’s a problem, you’re often left in the dark. Airports feel unnecessarily complicated, too—signage isn’t obvious, and processes don’t quite flow.

And one more thing: what’s with the liquids and the shoes?

Dear Italy,

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but while your food has always been fabulous, the things that used to be terrible are now… better. Trains are fast. Stations are clearly marked. Exits are uscita and exit. Airports are modernized, and things actually work. Fast track really does mean fast track.

How positively un-Italian.

Dear Germany (again),

You stole our Harry Kane—but he may be one of the most efficient weapons you’ve ever acquired.

Dear all,

I still love you both.

I’m English. I grew up with the Christmas ritual of pulling crackers every year. They were invented in 1847 by Tom Smith, a London confectioner. Inspired by French bonbons—sweets wrapped in paper—he brought the idea to England, but sales were slow. So he added a crack: a small explosive strip that made a bang when pulled apart. And just like that, the Christmas cracker was born.

Over time, crackers became more than just a sweet. Paper hats were added—actually paper crowns, inspired by the aristocracy. Sweets were replaced by small toys and trinkets, and jokes (very bad jokes) and riddles became part of the package. By the late Victorian era, pulling crackers at Christmas dinner was so popular that even the Royal Family joined in. Imagine it: the Queen herself wearing a paper crown and pulling a cracker.

Fast forward to today. I still buy my crackers from Tom Smith, who is somehow still going strong. They’re not cheap. But I’ve noticed a few changes: the crowns are less durable, the toys and trinkets have disappeared, and the price has tripled. All of this might be fine if it were going to charity—but it seems to be going straight back to Tom Smith.

I love introducing children to the ritual of the Christmas cracker. I love the silliness of adults wearing paper crowns. I love the competitive thrill of knowing that only one person at the end of the pull gets the prize. But lately, the crackers feel… empty. There’s very little inside. Even the jokes are sparse, to say the least.

So, dear Tom: it was a brilliant idea. For nearly 200 years, you’ve helped make Christmas magical—fabulous, fun, and full of laughter. You gave us permission to wear crowns at the dinner table.

All I ask is this: please put a little more effort back into the surprise inside. And while you’re at it, make the crowns a bit sturdier than they are now.

I say this because I truly love the tradition—and I love passing it on.

After all, it’s the only time of year I get to wear a crown.

Dark days begin at 3:30pm. Intermittent rain. Brollies ready for the downpour and lights. Everywhere are lights… in SoHo, Carnaby Street, Trafalgar Square , Covent Garden and Winter Wonderland in Hyde park, the Angels in Regent Street, the shop windows along Piccadilly,  Hamleys toy store… The whole city is lit up.

We ride the tube to the pantomimes and take the boat up and down the powerful tidal river… London in the wintertime. As if the long summer nights of June and July were the side show. Walking through the waves of people, tourists, and locals.

Teeming and pouring through the streets, shops, and the underground. Theatres brimming with busloads of tourists to see the merry musicals. As if tomorrow would never come. The last hurrah. Racing against that 11 pm pub curfew, when suddenly all goes quiet and places that were once welcoming throw everyone out on the wet streets. “Time, gentlemen, please!” All before the tube closes. “Mind the gap.” is all you hear… London falls asleep, and the lights go out.

Tourists wander back to their hotels from theatres on every corner. And quietly, even SoHo drops down as street cleaners begin the clean up for another day in London Town.

Dear NYC, Your theater is too expensive. Too many musicals and Stars make it so hopelessly impossible for everyone.

Dear London. I love your theatre. It takes chances. Yep. Not only do you have the musical factor, but then the lovely off-center stuff and the National, the Bridge, the Almeida, the Globe, Regents Park not to mention Hampstead. But above all, you have ice cream with the delightful hidden wooden spoon.

Dear New York, please… You have no ice cream. No cute bars for intermission, so no glasses of wine. Traveling beyond Broadway is too far, and we want you to be better, but stars and prices get in the way. And at Christmas, you have no Panto! No Jack and the Beanstalk and yes, no ICE-CREAM!

Big overdue shout-out to Jet Blue. JetBlue flies to 66 domestic destinations and  46 international destinations across 34 countries. The airline operates approximately 1000 flights daily. Recently, I traveled to New Orleans with Jet Blue. I Grabbed extra leg room. The WiFi was free. The flight was on time and the attendants were really nice. Price was right. I love their destinations. I’ve traveled San Diego, Punta Cana, New York, London and just recently New Orleans.

It’s always the same story. Everything I need. Great price. Great mileage plan and lots of non-stop destinations. Their transatlantic is good. Business class is very comfortable. It outperforms other carriers. And again. Staff always nice. Hats off. 

In group travel, there are moments in the day when everyone gathers to chat and talk. To review the things that have been done, and to discuss the days ahead. Often, dinner is the glorious opportunity to do this. A chance to put the phones away, take a break from social media, and socialize. To focus on flavors and discuss the day that just passed and the day ahead. To look at friends rather than the phone. To reflect on the moments that were special in the day. The places that you are most looking forward to seeing on the next few days. The funny things that happened. The stories that slowly will be created about the trip. Many of which will last a lifetime.

Life is not all about a quick photo or a selfie. Taking time to breathe in the history in the places you walk by and savoring the memories requires only a moment of escape. Those moments will last through anecdotes and funny stories for a lifetime

Whenever I go to London, I always go to the Theatre. I love the Theatre and not just the big plays in London‘s West End, but also strolling over to the old Vic, the Almeida and the National Theatre.

One of the wonderful secrets – if you like Theatre- is keeping an eye out for something called National Theatre live. All of the shows that are staged at the National Theatre appear on a circuit in the USA at Arts cinemas across the country. The other evening, we were lucky enough to see Inter Alia with Rosamond Pike at a delightful arts cinema in Natick, Massachusetts. National Theatre also has a program called National Theatre at home. You pay a subscription and have access to a number of plays again that you may not have seen.

I’ve seen several plays in Massachusetts that have been screened in various arts cinemas like Coolidge Corner in Brookline, Amherst, Cinema in Amherst, and of course, now my newfound gem in Natick. Theatre stretches back across the ages. In our tiny town in Ashfield, we have a most delightful theatre called Double Edge. Every year its summer spectacle sells out. We walk from set to set through a garden of flowers, trees, delightful streams and watch a fantasy come alive. Theatre!

Recently at the Globe in London which was recreated on the banks of the Thames in the style of the original Globe , I had the chance to see 12th Night. If you have the time inside a busy week, I would suggest you go look at National Theatre Live and see if something that appeals to you is playing nearby. During these most strange days, it feels a tiny bit subversive to go and look at Theatre in an art cinema off the grid and somehow beam onto a stage in London, join the audience at the National Theatre and enjoy a wonderful production that otherwise you would not get to see.

The only thing, apart from the play, is the ice cream at the intermission! So if you love the Theatre, as I do, go out and look at the schedule for National Theatre Live. There is always a play performing somewhere in an art cinema near you, and frankly giving support to our art cinemas is vital in these days of mainstream wonder heroes and such. It’s rather nice to sit down and for two hours or so, have a slice of London in a cinema not far from where you live. Enjoy.

When I think of the current state of America, I am reminded of the Joni Mitchell song, California, where she says, “Sitting in a park in Paris , France reading the news and it sure looks bad…” That was in 1971!

So here we are – 2025. More than 50 years on, and the world is a mess. Wars escalating. The current administration has turned inwards, education, colleges and programs are being defunded on the grounds of being too liberal, antisemitic, and so on.

Education is being offered as a reward for compliant behaviour. At ACIS Educational Tours we encourage high school students to travel outside the USA. Travel – so our mantra goes-changes lives. It brings the world together. It helps students grow with a better understanding of the world we live in. Knowing our neighbors better, makes for better neighborhoods. We inhabit this vast world on a leasehold basis. Our job during our limited time here is to make the neighborhood better. Keep the streets clean and make sure we are driven by the general good rules of government.

The governments job is to protect us, provide for our children, provide education and provide healthcare for everyone….We worry about climate. But 44% of our 8.2 billion people live in poverty. There’s work to be done. Defunding education is simply bad. Programs that help the 44% are being discontinued. The USA is looking inwards. We have to look outwards. Keep pushing for change and keep pushing for students to experience our world. To act as pioneers. To innovate and make America a great place to visit and the world a great place to share.

I remember the day we moved. It seemed like we were moving to Australia. South London. The other side of the Thames. How could we? All from running water and a bathtub! It seemed so unfair. We were North Londoners. We moved to the Oval which was famous for its cricket ground. We lived in the council flats by the cricket ground called Wisden House, after a person who collated all the data on cricket stats.

We lived so close to the cricket that we would bunk to go see the games. The doors were opened at 5 and we would sneak in for free. Many a Test Match i saw there. The Marmite factory was on our road. The entire place smelled of Marmite. I lobbed the smell. It’s why I became a marmite addict! I still love marmite on toast today.

I worked in Brixton, a West Indian enclave. I got to see the incredible fruits and vegetables that were being sold. Color…the noise. It was so entertaining. Music. Some of my fondest memories were down Electric Avenue on market day. I worked at another market called Club Row. It was an animal market. Parrots, dogs, fish etc. I loved the buzz of the place. Every Sunday, I sold dog coats, parrot cages and parrots for their crowds.

My London. Seats London and South London. Now so many changes. But still so vibrant. In my London we would walk down to the river, skim stones and look for stuff that washed up on the side. The Thames has a 30 ft tide. I played under the best timepiece in the world, Big Ben. I watched as the Houses of Parliament turned into an evening glow and always wondered what London would look like when I grew up. The answer? As amazing as all the years it accompanied me on my childhood journey.