Tag Archives: Pietro Place

Chapter 2 – Top 5 Things You Need to Know about Snow

Chapter 2 – Top 5 Things You Need to Know about Snow

I’m learning things about snow that I never cared to know. And yet now that I know, I feel richer, a more well-rounded citizen. I thought I’d share with you:

Ice Dams are a thing and they can crush your roof. The best of all these tips is the last one (move to Florida).
There won’t be a Boston Snow Party. Much to the chagrin of pun people everywhere, snow can’t just be dumped into the ocean. Well it can, but then the fish might die and Legal Sea Foods new slogan could be, “If it doesn’t taste like snow melt, it’s not legal.”
Jet-Engine propelled snow plows are a thing, It’s called Snowzilla and watching the video just forces the question. Are we living in the 80s when it comes to snow removal? You bet. Using a giant hair dryer to clear railway lines is as good as it gets.
Snow Farms are also a thing Or a misnomer really, as they don’t grow snow here. It just gets dumped, sometimes into a giant furnace. So why do they call it a farm? Horses, cows, vegetables, corn – that’s what I think of when I think of a farm. So this isn’t really a farm. I just don’t really know who came up with this word for a wasteland to dump snow. Maybe next spring, unaccountable alien forms will start growing in this space.
Men driving 10 ton snow plows are working 16 hour days. Everyone, let’s face it. Wants just a few hours riding high on a snow plow. What a feeling, pulling the lever, dumping the salt, clearing the snow. Working through the night. These guys are the real heroes of our city. Where’s their Duck Boat Parade?

The Boston Snow Chronicles

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The Boston Snow Chronicles

Chapter 1: Navigating Boston in the Winter Storm Season

Boston received more snow last week than any other week-long period in history. And then we had a parade. The two are not connected; the New England Patriots winning the Super Bowl right on the heels of the worst snow week ever, was as unlikely as the Pats’ rookie Malcolm Butler interception. But it happened.

The timeline:

Sunday night the Patriots won. The most glorious fourth quarter ever played in a Super Bowl.
Monday the snow won and shut the city down.
By Tuesday Boston was already brushing off the snow: the schools reopened, as did the government buildings and suddenly everyone was back on the roads.
It deserves its own bullet-point. The T was and still is a nightmare. Does Boston really think we’ll get the Olympics with this subway system?
And on Wednesday – in the midst of mountains of snow, of all things, the city of Boston brought out the Duck Boats to carry our glorious heroes and handsome Tom around the clogged up streets, amidst adoring fans.

So we celebrated the Super Bowl win and then most offices were closed – so we kept on celebrating. And then we suffered and shoveled and we thought that would be our last storm of the season. Yeah right. This is Boston. It’s only just begun!

Ode to Selfie Stick

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Ode to Selfie Stick

I gave away my selfie stick. It had traveled with me from Venice to Rome to Miami to Havana, where I left it in good hands. I didn’t take the decision lightly – it was my first selfie stick after all. The selfie stick is a crowd puller for sure and once you start, it’s irresistible. I bought it in some market in Venice. The vendor saw me eyeing it. You see, the hook is the stick itself – I was already sold. It looks like a sort of James Bond thing or an Inspector Gadget contraption. How much? How do you push the button? Out from the vendor’s pocket emerges the requisite Bluetooth remote. He sells me that too.

As an aside, the guys who sell the selfie-sticks are a real testament to entrepreneurial spirit. As soon as there is a spot of rain, they’ve disappeared the selfie stick and are selling three different kinds of umbrellas for your protection and your pleasure. These guys are the future leaders of industry; I have no idea where they keep their inventory! The selfie stick becomes the umbrella, the umbrella becomes the glow-in-the-dark parachute, and at the end of the evening, everything turns into roses.

I used it in Rome all the time, but the only problem is that when in Rome, the selfie stick attracts a lot of attention. Unfortunately some nefarious types are more interested in what’s at the end of your stick, then in the stick itself. Alas, it was the sole survivor of my first (and hopefully last) Iphone theft of 2015. I got another phone and took the selfie-stick to Havana.

Going into it, I didn’t know that my selfie stick’s journey would end in Cuba. After so much adventure it seemed like the right place for it. They’d never seen the likes of it before and it became a fabulous ice-breaker. In the end, our bus driver was so impressed by the power of my selfie-stick, as it were, that the minute before leaving the airport in the midst of saludos, I made a fateful decision. I gave our tour guide a tip, a bottle of something, and then almost spurred on by something greater than myself: Necesito ofrecerte un regalo. I handed him the selfie stick and followed it up with the Bluetooth. Parting is such sweet sorrow. But never again would he need to ask someone to take the picture.

Alitalia – Rome Miami

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Alitalia – Rome Miami

Flying business from Rome to Miami on Alitalia should be a treat. But really the service, the good, and the comfort of the seats on the 10+ hour journey, is a joke. They have a casual approach, I guess, to the whole experience.

The movie selection was grimmer than flying TAM. There was an awful film called La Grande Bellezza, about an aging movie star in Rome who smokes a lot of cigarettes and seemed to get off with young woman. It was pure and absolute misogyny and dreadful to boot.

And I never expect to eat anything other than appalling food on an airplane, but frankly eating something is a way to fill in the hours. If you’re on BA or any number of half decent carriers, the food is OK – not brilliant, but OK. On Italia it is at the highest level of inedibility. The land of pizza, pasta and gelato – you would think, could rustle up something that resembles something edible. The land of prosciutto and parmesan – surely there must be somebody in charge of the kitchen of Alitalia that could make my 10 hours a bit more interesting! How they managed to get awards for their meals, is beyond me. Perhaps the reviewer was promised an antidote in exchange for a good review?

But the food, this was business or as they call it Magnfica. Even the picture on their website looks like the food stylist took the day off. Two kinds of putrefied pasta and a risotto you wouldn’t give to your dog. Fearful for my life when I saw the meat dish, I opted for the fish as the follow-up. One bite into the branzino and I realized that this baby had been cooked up a storm and probably should’ve been taken out of the oven several days before, along with the congealed sauce it sat in. Still there was always a chunk of cheese at the end of the meal that I could look forward to. But no luck, the parmesan packets where nowhere to be seen!

Alitalia has nice enough people as crew, but they spend most of their time practicing the art of conversation (with each other!) and seem absolutely disinterested in the people they’re supposed to be serving. In fact you feel awkward about interrupting their conversation for a glass of water – and they seem to have it figured out because they have set up a self-serve station. Not Magnifica, not at all. I hate to think about what was happening in Economy. Miami was but a few hours away and I was headed off to warmer climates, and hopefully warmer customer service.

Lunch at Da Fortunato al Pantheon in Rome

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Lunch at Da Fortunato al Pantheon in Rome

I’ve been coming to Rome for a long time, yet every time I want a great lunch I always end up at the same place: Da Fortunato al Pantheon. It seems as though the waiters have been there as long as I’ve been going there. They remember you, they’re nice. The most important thing is that the food is simply out of this world. I always have the same thing, depending on the season: either untarelle, a chicory dish with anchovies, or radicchioalla grilla, the spaghetti alla vongole veraci and a large bottle of sparkling water. It’s quite simply the greatest lunch experience I’ve ever had in the world.

It’s simple; the restaurant is discreetly tucked away behind the Pantheon Square, the Piazza della Rotonda. I am sort of a chaotic kind of guy and I know Rome really well – I like to experiment, try different restaurants, and discover new things in cities. But there’s never been a time where I’ve been in Rome and not gone to this marvelous institution; because in the end, there is simply nothing better than the food at this restaurant.

Wireless Connections on the Frecciargento

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Wireless Connections on the Frecciargento

It’s not that it’s frustrating; connecting to wireless in most countries can be time consuming, complicated, expensive and unpredictable. But on the high-speed trains in Italy they have developed a system at the very highest level of incompetency. Essentially, Italian law mandates that they must charge you for Wi-Fi which means you must give them a credit card so that they can charge you an obligatory amount that will last for 24 hours. The completion of the form is complicated, and on a cell phone practically impossible to figure out. The charge for this wireless connection is 1ct of €1 Euro, an obligatory charge, mandated by Italian law, so that at least 3000 people sitting in an office somewhere can attend to the paperwork required to administrate its operation.

Once you have completed the application, a username and a password are generated. Both the username and password are so long, with uppercase, lowercase, etc…that there’s a fairly good chance you’ll get it wrong at least twenty times. But not to worry, at some point you’ll get it – but then the ugly truth kicks in. Fast trains move fast because they use tunnels to cut through the central spine of Italy’s Apennines Mountains. Wireless connections, of course, do not work in tunnels. When the connection drops you have to re-enter the password that you’ve probably forgotten, unless you were smart enough to write it down. Don’t feel bad, it will not remember you either – that would be too easy! In addition there are five station stops between Rome and Venice; wireless does not work at station stops either and the same rules apply to stations as to tunnels. The bottom line is that if you were planning to do a lot of work on the train, you better have data roaming as your backup. But the trains do run on time!

On the Fast Train from Venice to Rome

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On the Fast Train From Venice to Rome

Imagine this, the water taxi picks you up from the palazzo, you jump into this elegant motor launch which wanders through the tiny canals until at last it breaks out into the open lagoon, and there’s the Salute church in the center of San Giorgio on the Giudecca, and across the towering column with the symbol of Venice perched atop and Doge’s Palace, the Clocktower, the Basilica, the Cathedral – and you imagine you’re in a movie.

Under the Accademia bridge, past the Peggy Guggenheim museum and then a shortcut that brings you around to the Piazzale Roma; in the distance you can make out the freneticism of the mainland as you turn the corner of the canal and see the railway station, essentially abutting the canal and the boat docks. You roll your bags off, walk to the station and sitting there is the fast train to Rome, the Frecciargento.

In spite of all of the chaos of Italy, all of the confusion, the fast trains are a shining example of efficiency that you’ll find nowhere else in the world. The train rolls out within the second, on time, everytime – traveling at speeds close to 200 miles an hour. You arrive in Rome’s Termini station, 3 hours and 40 minutes later having traveled a distance of over 300 miles. Welcome to Rome.

The Rialto Fish Market Five Course Dinner

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The Rialto Fish Market Five Course Dinner

I needed to prepare a five course dinner for New Year’s Eve. As luck would have it, I was in Venice and a friend of mine knew a fish guy. My friend had arranged to meet with me earlier in a bar for a cappuccino and we walked fast-paced across the maze of streets of La Rialto, where he introduced me to another guy who knew the fish guys that sold the good stuff. I felt a little like Jason Bourne. Abutting the Erberia, the vegetable market, is the Pescheria, one of the highlights of any visit to Venice. You will see fish you’ve never seen: eels in the winter time, scallops in their shells, swordfish with their beaks on and razor clams called cape onghe.

I had decided that I would wait to prepare the menu until I saw what I had. I was introduced to the Fish Guy; I looked around. I would start with 10 large scallops. I would grill them in their shell with some oil and garlic. Then I was going to follow this with grilled razor clams. I would follow the razor clams with two pastas, one with small shrimp and zucchini and the other using artichoke that were in season that I planned to grab from the Erberia, and then finish off with a zuppa di pesce, which sounds decidedly better than its name in English – Fish Soup.

He asked me how I would do it. I felt the answer had to be good or he might turn me away. I would start with a fennel and onion base (he nodded slowly), add some tomatoes (ok)…then I told him I needed a good fish head or two for the broth (I’ve piqued his curiosity!), and then I would create a broth that I could empty the raw fish into for the last 10 minutes of preparation! He looked at me and said come back in 15 minutes. I returned and he’d neatly prepared bags for every course. In the fish soup there were scallops and langostina, a little monkfish, and all placed in at the very end, topped with tiny toasted pieces of bread with a dollop of aioli on them. We served the soup at 1am in the morning, having celebrated the fireworks in St. Marks at midnight. It wouldn’t have been possible without “my guy. “

Virgin Premium Economy to London

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Virgin Premium Economy to London

It’s only 7 hours, not a life sentence by any means. But if you’re tall, Virgin Premium Economy is a lifesaver and the only hope for those who don’t want to pay a small fortune for 7 hours of comfort. You certainly shouldn’t do it for the food, which is no better and no worse than what’s behind you and what’s in front of you. Zagat once rated airline cuisine, but it’s safe to say there is no market for a full on guide. And who goes on a plane because they’ve heard that the food is superb in the galley kitchen?

Our arrival was less than premium, transitioning from Terminal 3 at Heathrow to Gatwick, not exactly a stone’s throw away. The answer? Always travel light, have Uber on your phone and pray to God that the M25, competing for the highway of hell with Los Angeles’s 405, is having a quiet day.

We were heading to Venice and flights to Venice, sadly, fly out of the even sadder Gatwick airport. It was a day of sad airports and sad terminals with the only respite being the first sight of the Alps, the magic of Venice below and Marco Polo airport to welcome wary travelers into this magic paradise.

Holidays In London

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I love what the Brits do for the Holidays. They light the streets with elaborate displays, the shops are full of angels, snowmen and Father Christmases. London is home to Hamleys, the world’s oldest toy shop. Every holiday season Hamleys is alive with elaborate Christmas displays and the pubs are full of festive decorations and early afternoon revelers. This place takes Christmas seriously.

Pretty much the entire continent of Europe closes for two weeks and the traditional English Christmas food fare is plastered on every restaurant menu you could find. There are Christmas markets in the middle of Hyde Park and the fabulous Borough market at London Bridge steps up a notch over this period. Not to be outdone I had a rather lordly lunch at the House of Lords, eating off of their Christmas lunch menu with my friend, the Baroness!

I took the London cured smoked salmon as a starter, but having just taken the turkey at Thanksgiving I elected for an off-the- menu decision and went a la carte with the Fish Pie. Fish Pie, for those of us with a love of England will know that this is one of the great delicacies of the world. White fish in a béchamel sauce with mashed potatoes and melted cheese on top, served piping hot in its own little earthenware pot. It’s almost as good as a bacon sandwich! Yes, life at the House is good when you’re on the inside.

Christmas Cracker Celebration

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Christmas Crackers are such a part of an English holiday celebration, I couldn’t imagine not pulling a cracker and putting a really silly paper crown on my head while eating Christmas dinner.

So, where does this Christmas Cracker Celebration and Tradition come from? Its particular to the UK and the commonwealth countries such as Australia and New Zealand. The Irish have a cracker celebration too. It all started as a candy wrapper idea. A chap called Tom Smith originated the concept in 1847 with fancy wrappers for his bon bon candies or sweets as the English call them. When his candy market fell flat, he resorted to a different concept.

Tom thought of making his sweet wrapper much bigger and stuffing the wrapper with fun stuff and more importantly inserting a thin tape that would explode into a crack when pulled . He filled his cracker with ornaments and silly riddles and hats . And hey presto, Christmas was never the same . One is supposed to cross hands around the table and pull the crackers at exactly the same time. Then the hat ceremony which is facilitated by the vast quantities of alcohol that have been drunk around the dinner table.

When you play the fool, it’s better to not be completely aware! There is even a memorial water fountain to Tom Smith and his family in Finsbury Square in the center of London near the Barbican area. My mum used to make crackers in a factory just after the war. Never a shortage of paper crowns around our house when growing up. It was the closest I ever got to the aristocracy!

Got Jet Blues?

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Got Jet Blues? According to all those Jet Blue junkies, Jet Blue is heading down the corporate greed path. They’ve taken their biggest single value proposition,” more legroom,” and shrunk it – and all because they want to make more money. Shame on them! Imagine an airline looking for ways to make more money, surely not! Oh hang on, most airlines make no money at all and usually the way to try to break even or make a little bit is to scrimp on practically everything. So what is Jet Blue doing that is so horrid to the Jet Blue faithful? It’s charging for luggage and it’s shrinking its seat pitch from 34.7 inches to 33.1 inches. In other words, it’s decided to take the money that’s currently being left on the table.

I know that Southwest let’s your luggage travel free, but JetBlue offers Direct TV and free Wifi! Plus Jet Blue offers Mint, a premium service for not much more money, that connects the East and West Coasts. Look at this way, I doubt they’re headed the way of Ryan Air, where you practically have to pay to go to the toilet.

So Jet Blue’s introducing new slimline seats that are two inches thinner. All of this means that the magic tube we sit in will give them an increased dollar yield, make it a little less comfortable, but still, and this is the sad news folks, they lead the way in seat pitch. By redesigning their seats and adding a few more, they still are not cramming and jamming the folks in. Most legacy carriers offer 31 inches on long-haul…yikes!

This is a great common sense move for Jet Blue; we want them to be a viable airline and make money. And they still lead the way in the two things that are important to most travelers – legroom and a smile. Below is what you can expect on the misery space level on the worst offenders for seat pitch in the business.

Virgin 32.6
American 31.8
United 31.8
US airways 31.8
Delta 31.3
Sprint 28.3
So if you want to save money, Sprint is the game – but you may have to buy some new knees at the end of the flight! And is that Virgin I see?

The Senses Of San Miguel

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He who speaks the most, eats the least. He who eats the most, listens. He who listens, will own the secrets. – anonymous

The Senses of San Miguel: In 1810 the revolution started in these hills around San Miguel. The town itself became an inland harbor offering safe passage along the Camino between Mexico and Guanajuato. It’s a favorite place for artists and hip retirees (the Florida alternative without the hurricanes and the five o’clock specials). And you get siesta! It is simply a wonderful place to live.

There is so much going on and the culture is pouring over and into the lovely cobbled stone calles. Narrow streets with tiny doors and decorative spouts that slosh water sometimes onto the unsuspecting passersby below! There are vivid colors, pinks and greens everywhere. There are smells that stay with you, lavender, jasmine, orange and the aroma of roasting coffee. There are street vendors selling churros and tortillas and tacos on the street. The climate is practically perfect, never hot enough in the day to make you sweat and cool in the evenings because of the high altitude. 7000 feet. There are beautiful views from every direction because the town is surrounded by hills on three sides.

The church bells are a part of the music of San Miguel; bells to mark time and events to commemorate festivals and celebration. These sounds hang in the evening air at the jardin, the central plaza. There are globadores, balloon sellers, for the children who are playing, and mariachi players serenading couples at tables in cafés. The laurel trees in the central square seem to be perfectly manicured, providing shade during the day for the people-watchers and the mariachi taking their siesta. The locals mingle with the tourists as if they are not there. The merchants go about their business and actually let you look at stuff without that constant torment you find in Egypt or Marrakech.

Mexico is getting a bad rap at the moment, but there are real alternatives to the tourist traps of Cancun and Acapulco. And nobody’s suggesting you should opt for a homestay in Juarez! San Miguel is a gem and worth a try.

The Rosewood

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The Rosewood

The Roswewood in San Miguel. A friend of mine had stayed at another Rosewood and liked the hotel a lot. This hotel is amazing. We had a great room with a view, Room 303 incidentally, that looked out across the church, La Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel, this is the iconic sight of San Miguel. It looks Gaudi-esque and the beautiful sandstone gives off a magical hue at sunset when the sky is still incandescent blue. I could take all this in while sitting in my balcony outside the room! Two fireplaces and phenomenal food at whatever time, skyrocket this fairly recent addition to San Miguel’s hotel offerings, to the top.

Add the beautiful outdoor pool, actually long enough to do laps, the state-of-the-art gym, and the close proximity to everything and you have a pretty cool set up. It’s not cheap, but pick the right dates and you have a perfect location in a perfect place. The brunch at the weekends is off the charts. Heap loads of those delicious mushrooms that grow on decaying wet corn, slapped on to fabulously fresh-pressed tortillas with a dash of hot sauce were my favorites. It’s all good news on the menu and that’s even before you leave the hotel to explore the city.

The Road to San Miguel

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The Road to San Miguel

A quick break. A time out. Mexico, in spite of all the bad press seems like a great place to head. San Miguel de Allende is where we headed. Even though it is a little complicated to get there, it’s the kind of place that makes you glad you made the effort. You know that sinking feeling you sometimes get when you have traveled forever and you get hotel nightmares and bad food as your welcome mat? Not here.

San Miguel Vista

There are three ways to get to San Miguel: Mexico City, 4 hour drive and only worth it if you intend to spend a few days there. Not a bad idea as Mexico City is pretty cool. Leon, about 1 and a half hours away and recommended if you like bigger planes and if you want to pass by Guanajuato( the birthplace of Diego Rivera) or Queretero (the closest), 45 minutes, but accessible only by smaller planes(American Eagle essentially). We chose Queretero and because it’s such a small airport, and the planes are small, you have to check the bags…but at the gate! That is to say, no lost bags! Arrived and met by a limo guy from the hotel. Smooth and before you knew it we were heading down the cobbled streets in the beautifully hilly town of San Miguel. Checked into the Rosewood hotel in the center with stunning views and slept.