Finally broke into my own account, with a labyrinth of codes, connection settings and passwords duly ferreted out, balancing the angle of the keyboard in the right direction of the wireless signal, and planets lining up over the Med...so here I am again:
An uneventful journey over the pond, stopping briefly at London's Heathrow Airport, and then, after a 3-hr layover, onto Rome. A hot and sweaty car ride to Anzio for a wonderful reunion with the Zitos, and then dinner (eggplant rigatoni), followed by a walk along the Mediterranean with Alisa. Yikkity yak till about 10, and then I called it a day (or maybe it was two).
Yesterday, convergence at the Hotel Selene in nearby Pomezia: several of us OM-ers from several corners of the world met around the pool to finalize details of the conference and fight jetlag. Probably the wrong place to do that...but we managed. Another copious dinner, and we wandered off to the rabbit warren of sleek contemporary Hotel Selene rooms, to sleep the sleep of the dead, or cope with insomnia and maladjusted body clocks, and wake with the inevitable question of one-too-many bits of travel: "What country am I in?"
The crowds descend in about two hours..."where are the mosaic tiles? What room are we meeting in? How do you get wireless to work? Who has the nametags?! When does Jill/Frank/Anna/Tim/whoever arrive?" We repeat and repeat ourselves, as our brains try to stay focused and retain the details...boy, does that coffee look good. Wonder what the pool temperature is?
Thanks for your prayers and stay tuned for the next exciting episode in the life of a creative consultant in a global artst enterprise. Or something like that...