Tired of the humidity, rt 95, and other troubles that plague me in CT, on Sunday I dropped everything and flew to Naples, Italy, and took the ferry to the beautiful Isle of Capri. The weather was bright and breezy. There were lemon trees, white washed cottages decorated with cobalt blue ceramic tiles, and everywhere I went people spoke a language I could not understand, which came as great relief. Every thing I ate was freshly picked, and I spoke no words except "grazie", and "bonjourno", and "bella".

Actually, it was just Long Island, where I had family matters to attend to. But it was a lovely day, the food was good, and the ferry ride was pretty relaxing.