Day 14: The ever-ending day 2.0

Auburn woke us up early to wave to the Italian navy as we pulled into port. Waking up that early was actually easy due to all the noise the ship makes when docking. Think about a runaway washing machine and you’ll get the idea. Sleenky and the rest of the group, including trip leaders Il Padrino and Sneeky and their sidekick Snappy, had an earlier flight so we parted in the hallway. We waited for our number to be called to disembark the ship and once we were finally ashore and had collected our luggage, we attempted to get on one of the buses to the airport. Apparently we were all too polite to push and shove our way on to a bus with our number on it, so we got shuffled off to the “overflow bus”. We nicknamed our bus driver/luggage handler “Molasses” as Auburn could have loaded the luggage twice as fast and gotten us to the airport in one-third of the time. We’ve truly been spoiled by our private motorcoaches!

Upon arriving at the airport, we encountered a new phenomenon, do-it-yourself security. We’re not kidding. We walked right into the outer area, the two attendants never ceased their conversation (though they did look at our passports) gave us stickers to put on our carry-on baggage and waved us through….to the inner area where we discovered ol’ Molasses would not be out of place. It literally took us an hour to get from that point to the counter where we dropped off our luggage and picked up our boarding passes. None of us have ever seen anything like it. Moral of this part of the story: when leaving Italy, plan on being AT LEAST 3 hours early for your flight. Oh and don’t worry too much about security in Italy as we walked right through the metal detector with coins in our pockets and they even forgot to require us to take off our shoes.

Once our flight got underway they passed out Customs forms for re-entry into the US. Auburn enjoyed her stay so much, they gave her a form in Italian and she has now applied for Italian citizenship. The Caribineri is reviewing her (altered?) criminal record to see if they’ll allow her to stay, but based on the Customs procedures for entry into Italy, we don’t see any problems with local law enforcement. She has 45 days in which to obtain a job where she can arrive late, leave early and talk to her friends while doing the job. Also, it needs to be a job where being efficient is grounds for dismissal. If she finds such a job, expect a rash of Americans to follow.

We were served a late lunch aboard our jet and were pleased to see that the airline offered sea horse ravioli, just the way we found it in Venice. Nice, small, fresh ones, just the way we like ‘em!

We actually arrived early into Atlanta, only to find that our connecting flights were delayed. We’re totally worn out, fighting the sniffles and in desperate need of sleep. We can’t show you the “after” picture of the three of us as the camera refuses to focus on an image that disturbing.

All in all, a once in a lifetime trip filled with wonderful friendships and memories!

Day 13: I Gotta Pisa Advice For You….

The title works better when you say it with a fake Italian accent.

Wondering about Steele & Holt? Revisit our previous stories (you know, like reruns) until March sweeps. We will give you some teasers: Mildred was seen boarding the ship with Michael Gleason not far behind yelling “you can’t let ‘em ‘do it’, that’ll cause us to get cancelled! I’ll find another husband for Laura!”

As for us, we had an early tour to Pisa, which left us leaning in different directions. Strange but true: it actually leans like a banana due to various attempts to straighten it over the centuries. (Xenos, we don’t want to hear any banana jokes from you.)

Next we drove over to Firenze, aka Florence. It’s as beautiful as people say with the 4th largest cathedral and another church whose façade is covered with white Carrara marble, which is mined in the nearby hills. Unfortunately we couldn’t get into any of the major museums due to the length of the lines. We did see a number of sculptures outside the Uffizi museum of famous Firenzians through the centuries. There’s also a scale replica of the famous David statue just outside the Uffizi but, just our luck, it was covered in scaffolding. (Jilly, lalalala) The jiggly bits however were still visible. Xenos we have closeups just for you. (End lalalala)

In search of a place for lunch we ran into Pierce. He was going to join us for lunch but he got trapped inside and couldn’t make it. We ended up at a quaint outdoor café on the edge of a local piazza market. We all ordered pizza as we realized we had yet to have any authentic Italian pizza (the stuff on the ship doesn’t count). We met back up with the group at the Santa Croce piazza and Auburn & Mickey decided to tour the church to see the tombs of famous people from Florence including Leonardo da Vinci, Michaelangleo, Machiavelli, Amerigo Vespucci, Enrico Fermi and G. Marconi. We saw the steps down to the crypts and Auburn paused, seriously considering a foray down there for an up-close-and-personal look but we weren’t wearing our black break-in clothes so we’ll save that for another day. We left Florence planning another trip to Italy where we could spend several days each in Florence, Venice and Rome so we could have time to see everything we want. Start saving your Euros now!

We completed the day by packing in 20 minutes (as opposed to the days and hours it took us to pack FOR the trip), having dinner with the entire group and one final feather boa parade to the hot tub. Sleezy is inviting herself to Sleenky’s house to enjoy HER hot tub next week!

Day 12: A modest villa in the south of France….

“Today’s the day, Mr. Steele and I have been getting closer. And I’ve been feeling more… and…so tonight’s the night.” Well, not exactly. Let me explain. We aren’t in Cannes. The ship docked in Monaco and we signed up for a tour to Nice and Eze. Nice is lovely with a beautiful flower market and gorgeous carousel in a small park. Mr. Steele took Laura for a nice ride on it. By the end, they were holding sticks, er, I mean hands, and looking moonfully into each others’ eyes over the white rose he gave her. In Eze, a simple roadside café turned into a quiet, bit of solitude over pastries and coffee. The Côte d’Azur was working its magic.

Upon returning to the ship, Laura spied a Vespa scooter club race at the yacht club entrance and her competitive juices took over. She persuaded a lovely gentleman named Albert to allow her to race in the time trials. A cloud of dust later, she was in the winner’s circle proudly clutching the plastic gold trophy. Steele was mildly put out by the attention Albert was raining on her. Laura accepted his invitation to join Albert for dinner in his villa. It turns out Albert is the prince of Monaco, the very SINGLE prince of Monaco. (Although if you have seen any pictures of the Prince, Steele should not have been worried.) Sleezy devised a plan and long story short, Sneezy and Skeezy are now the property of His Royal Highness and Laura and Steele came to an agreement in the Palace Garden. Steele agreed to forfeit his passports to Laura and she agreed to dot…dot…dot.
So under the magical influence of a Dom Perignon cork from the Top of the Mark and reciting Tony Bennett lyrics, they headed off to consummate this relationship as it was meant to have been, in the clear skies of a warm Mediterranean night.

Day 11: Bienvenudo Barcelona

What happened to Day 10 you may ask? See Day 8 and Day 4 and repeat. Slugs-R-Us.

We exit the ship only to realize that we have 3 extra vouchers for the hop-on, hop-off Turista Bus. We walk 8 miles to the ticket office to exchange the vouchers for actual tickets. Our trip leader, El Padre (aka Il Padrino in Italy and Pimp Daddy in the US) was attempting to lure unsuspecting young, female backpackers with his signature phrase “hop-on me, hop-off me, I’ve got three.” Surprisingly, we got no takers. Fortunately our chief of marketing took over and managed to pass the tickets off for a tidy profit. (Las turistas stupidas! Ha ha ha!)

First stop was the La Sagrada Familia church. Construction began in 1882. However we did not enter as we wanted construction to be complete before we actually took the tour. Yes, it’s STILL under construction! We circled the block 5 times looking for los baños only to come back to my personal restaurant, Mickey D’s where we bought the world’s smallest Cokes in payment for using the facilities.

The architect Antoini Gaudi was a huge influence in Barcelona so we hopped off at Güell Park to visit a house where he lived for 20 years and to see the highlight of all Spain which we had believed to be the size of Godzilla and actually passed it by before it was pointed out to us. Turns out it is only about 10 feet long, thus causing our confusion. Here is a photo of the dragon in its natural habitat.


We hopped on and off the bus again as Skeez was experiencing an extreme reaction “green straw withdrawal” (that’s Starbuck’s for the uninitiated). We got in line for the bus again only to realize that drinks are contraband on the Turista Buses. Sleenky quickly said “stick it here” and tucked it up under Skeez’s shirt. We managed to get on board the bus with no problem and stayed on until we got to the Museum of Art where we exited to give Skeez time to finish her Frappuccino. We were rewarded with some gorgeous views of the city.
Hopping back on the bus we rode it back near the port and strolled along Las Ramblas where Skeez was able to appease her high-speed addiction at an internet café. (The internet on the ship is *supposedly* high-speed but….not really.) We stopped at a quaint little place called Hamburguesa del Rey for a quick bite to eat.

The day ended with Skeezy & Sleezy plotting creative ways to kill one another. Skeez mentioned leaving the clothesline strung across the shower as a means of garroting Sleezy and Sleezy was using nail polish fumes to trigger Skeez’s allergies. We understand that a frayed guy wire will be left by the hot tubs tomorrow night. Stay tuned to see which one gets a burial at sea and which one returns to the States.

Day 9: Picture It, Sicily, 2008…

The day started like many others so far, we had a quick bite to eat and discussed how to get the body, (formerly known as Tony “Bag of Donuts” Roselli) off the ship. It turns out the Sicilian “Outfit” has an express lane for returning “associates”. It was listed in Rick Steves’ Best of Europe guidebook under the section titled - Coming home to Mamma. So with our group tour bus we headed into the beautiful countryside to the church, Santa Lucia where Michael Corelone gets married in “The Godfather”. Unfortunately, a miscommunication causes a double booking and we end up putting the body in a wine barrel, strapped to a donkey. Money changes hands and long story short, Tony is now a cork in a lava tube somewhere in Mt.Etna. So if it erupts, there is a slight chance of his landing back in the USA.

After our tour returned us back the ship, Sneezy, Skeezy and Sleezy head back into Messina for a little action. It is after all a port filled with stevedores and sailors. Sleenky, still appalled by Sleezy’s “Associates”, chose to seek sanctuary in the safety of the nearest church, not trusting assurances that the hot tub of holy water onboard was as equally effective. Regrettably, a two-hour walk around the waterfront netted only catcalls and whistles. But after duct-taping Sneezy into silence, our search for dependable high speed internet resumes. But apparently the preferred method for communication is still carrier pigeon. We all agreed that one trip to Sicily is enough for a lifetime.

With the body now off-ship, Mr. Steele’s thoughts returned to amore. He dressed in his finest tuxedo and swept Laura out for a birthday celebration toast at Scott’s Piano Bar. Just as things got tantalizingly close to a romantic breakthrough, a horrible Mildred-like interruption occurred when four foa beathered broads entered the bar demanding ABBA tunes. Sam, the piano-playing, hockey-hating Canadian, was not amused at the disruption of his quiet set of romantic ballads, and decided to quicken the pace. He asked if anyone knew anything fast. Sleezy responded in the blink of an eye, “Skeeziks!”. In a margarita-induced haze, Skeezy jumped up on the piano while Sam played “Dancing Queen” and her three hand maidens danced enticingly for any patron on deck four. Steele reminded Laura of her promise to show him her fan dance from Pepe’s when Sam transitioned to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”. Laura purloined a boa from one of the hand maidens and was just about to demonstrate how to have some real fun when the sniper paparazzi arrived. The crowd scattered back to their various staterooms.
Happy Birthday Stephanie! We hope you had as much fun today as we did with “Steph-on-a-Stick”. By the way, we celebrated in international waters so any attempt to have us arrested or bring civil action are without legal merit. At least that’s what Enzo and Felix Murietta’s cousin claims.

Day 8: Il Dolce Far Niente Ancora

See Day 4. We’re serious about having done nothing today and are feeling too lazy and well fed to type about it. We will, however, provide the following advice: Avoid “I Am Legend” at all costs, even if watching it on the world’s largest cruise screen while laying out on deck over the Mediterranean Sea. In our two noodle review, we give it a Limp Linguine. This didn’t seem to stop our romantic couple from ‘date night,’ however, as Mr Steele and Laura cozied up under the deck blankets and weren’t seen again until after all mutants were vanquished.

Oh, and Auburn had to be talked down off the Nothing-Left-To-Lose’s tailfin this afternoon during a minor suicidal episode. Why, you ask? Another bad day with the stock market? No, her Cubs lost. Being from LA, Skeeziks says, “Long Live that Goat curse.”

Days 6 & 7: Venezia, Bambino!

Forgive our delayed posts, dear readers, but we’ve been a bit busy walking our feet off in Venice. Wow, what a city. Who built it, and why, we did not ask. We’ll just summarize it by saving it’s everything you’ve seen in the movies and more. More canals, more calles, more shops, more gelato… We’ll begin our adventure with the Vaporetti. These Floating Rat Traps are the confusing, crowded and often slow moving transportation system of the masses. Emphasis on the masses. Three water buses and 100 hours later we arrived in Piazza Giglio, starting point of our gondola ride down the canals.

To summarize:

Every piazza had a church, every church had a bell tower and every bell tower had a sniper trying to sell us fake Prada.

Marcy, the fourth of our quartet, disappeared off the Vaporetto. We feared she’d been kidnapped but didn’t let this disrupt our gondola ride. Oh, so many canals… Later that evening, she arrived back at the ship dressed in Versace with Prada sunglasses and a Gucci handbag, trailing her boa as she sang songs from “Mamma Mia!” in Italian. Thus, Sleenky was born.

On the romance front, things are looking up for Mr Steele and Miss Holt. First of all, they avoided the Vaporetti and took a water taxi, the Venetian equivalent to The Limo. A romantic gondola ride was followed by a five course meal, two bottles of Chianti and some cho-cho-chocolate gelato. They ate better than we did and we’re very hopeful for a successful Cannes curse reversal.

Keeping with the theme, you’ll all be very pleased to know that Georgio Mulchino is thriving here with a branch office of Steele Inc.



He’s also marketing Gina Lollobridgida bridges as a backup in case the crime business here doesn’t pick up and discussing the used gondola market with Enzo Murrieta’s brother.

On Day 2 in Venice, our reunited (and it feels so good) Quartet visited the Who Let the Doges Out Palace. The Doge's Palace was the seat of Venetian government until Italian unification in the late 1700s. While all of the tour was amazing, Auburn and Skeeziks were especially interested in the prisons, dungeons, and armory. Too bad we weren’t allowed to take pictures here as there were several OMG!!! items we’ll have to describe later. Think of a metal thong with spikes in the wrong direction. For men.

Interestingly enough, Venice was the least expensive stop for us so far, having dumped Enzo and all the other fleecers. (We’d been warned there were pick-pocketers in Italy, we just weren’t aware they were all named Enzo and we’d willingly paid them up front.)

We ended the day as all vacationers should, celebrating the birthdays of two absent friends (Everglade and Xenos) at the piano bar with boas, a Mamma Mia request set and some Dancing Queens. Strangely enough, this is the honest truth.


And so we sign off from Venice…

Day 5: If it’s Saturday, it must be Dubrovnik

Not much more to cover here since we typed at you from the world’s best internet café. However, we’re happy to report that we’re all still free to move about the world despite this being where we learned incense is not the same as hashish. HaKuna Matata, as is Croatian currency.

Queesy, Queesy, Queesy and Marcy returned to our ship to very rough seas, lightening storms and a hatch left open below deck. We recall the conversation went something like this:
Auburn (looking out the window): Wow, it really is rough out there. I hope we can keep down all this liquor and food. Everybody eat puree tonight! No point in ripping up our tracheas.
Skeeziks: You know, they didn’t tell the guests on the Titanic that they were in danger. They just let them keep on dancing and eating.
Mickey: I’m going to be pretty hacked off if I labeled all 5,000 of these photos and the ship sinks!

It should be noted that Mickey later stuck a pacifier in Brendan’s USB port and strapped him into a life jacket complete with leash and floatation device. She was last heard to inquire, “Will my wi-fi plan work on the lifeboats?”

Day 4: Il Dolce Far Niente (The Sweetness of Doing Nothing)

On our first ‘day at sea,’ we discovered our inner laziness. Arising at 11:30 AM, we dashed off to a late breakfast and then didn’t move from our chaise lounge chairs on deck except to lay on our stateroom beds. Aside from our deep, dark tans, we’re now very well read. Mickey has taken up trashy romance reading ala Charlotte Knight. Marcy is studying quantum physics in the hopes of inventing time travel to be permanently on vacation, Skeeziks acquired another language skill thanks to her Italian Sherlock Holmes novels and Auburn’s still reading basic English and Typing for Dummies. Having failed the intro course, we don’t hold much hope and Brendan, Mickey’s computer, is looking very nervous.

Day 3: Mr. Enzo Murrieta’s Wild Ride

Our first shore excursion included the ancient city of Pompeii, the Amalfi Coast, Positano, and Sorrento. Our guide Enzo, Mr Steele’s Italian cousin, whose brother sells used cars in the Napoli valley, and Mario, of Nintendo’s similarly named video games, took command of all our day’s travel accommodations in their stylish, yellow Smart car (BKA The Lemon) and off we barreled towards Pompeii as quickly as a one-cylinder vehicle permitted.


The sacred, stirring and still ashy ruins of Pompeii, are a magnificent experience, the highlight of which is the brothel with its extra value meal, so selected by taking the phallic menu option shown here:

(Ancient mural positions picture Paxed to protect your inner eyes.)

While Auburn, Marcy and Skeeziks were busy ‘doing Pompeii,’ we noticed Mickey being carried up the side of Mt. Vesuvius by a pack of New Pompeii’s residents as a virginal offering to keep the volcanic gods at bay. Much to all of our surprise, she was tossed back, not for the usual reasons of impurity but because Vesuvius was heard to declare, “I wasn’t in the mood for Southern BBQ today, I was thinking maybe Chinese.”

Making our way south down the windy coast of Amalfi at warp speed, we paused only long enough to stop in at Sophia Loren’s house for cocktails, Rudolph Nureyev’s island for wine and Enzo’s cousin’s restaurant for a financial soaking. Er lunch. Every time the Dow dropped a hundred points, the gamblers in the group had another drink and the sober one crossed another ski trip off her list---hence the need for the trip through the Pneumatic Tube at Il Banco d’Rupto di Amalfi. Marcy decided to cash in her chips, so to speak, but had to decode four Roman Pictographs and solve four Sudoku puzzles to ride the Magic Human Conveyance into the vestibule itself. By then the dollar had dropped another seven points. %$#@!!

Day 2: Roaming About Rome

After Mickey & Marcy checked out of the presidential suite (complete with a view overlooking a fountain, a café and a picturesque Roman street) and Auburn & Skeeziks checked out of their walk-in closet (incomplete with a view of the dumpster and the sounds of The Hound of the Baskervilles), we met our tour guide Patrice for a city tour. Though American sounding due to attending high school in the US, Patrice was half-Irish, half-Zimbabwean, attended the American University in Rome and managed cobble-stoned Roman streets in stilettos--- an obvious sign of a capable woman. She took us to the Monument to Victor Emmanuel II, the Teatro Marcellus, the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain and the Colosseum, where Constantine’s Arch is also found.

Thanks to Everglade’s warnings, we obtained breastplates and swords and were able to fend off the aggressive vendors encountered at the Colosseum. The Pantheon, however, proved to be a challenge. Originally built as a Roman temple for the ancient gods and later converted to a church for Catholic martyrs and apostles, alarms city-wide began to ring as we approached --danger, Italy, danger! Due to what the Italians are now calling the “Cattivo di Il Vaticano,” Auburn was denied entrance to a second historic, religious monument while Mickey, Marcy and Skeeziks entered, crossed themselves and lit candles for protection against future Auburnesque incidents. We DO hope to return here someday, unimpeded by GPS ankle bracelets and a conga line of monks, priests and abbots.

Moving right along...

Upon boarding, the Circus line’s Nothing-to-Lose vessel, easily identified by its rusty propeller, loose screws, barnacled bottom and humongous size (it IS an American cruise line, after all) we were quickly provided with picture ID cards, a copy of the Geneva Convention and hammocks. Hammocks?! Far from the stateroom we’d expected, we were so far below Steer-age it was ‘Calf-age.’ The Women of Muster Station B, rated XXX (chica, chica bow wow), proved to be in top form though as they danced down towards the rescue drill line… but were still considerably less fashionable in their orange life vests than Mr. Steele and Miss Holt of the Panorama Deck (Level 10, for those keeping score).

Bog, halo hej zdravo, pozdrav

Hello, our friends, from Dubrovnik, Croatia! (That comma between the city and country is for you, Fanatic.)

We're currently waiting out the rain in a VERY highspeed internet cafe in gorgeous, historic and lively Dubrovnik. The bullet holes in the stone structures are enough to scare even Auburn into her best behavior so we've had no trouble with the local authorities. Yet. The day is young. Mick and Marcy did, however, sneak photos inside two churches with clear "No Camera" symbols so we may have to pay off some bribes there.

Of interesting note: We've seen Mamma Mia! movie posters now in two languages (Italiano and Croatian) and have pornographic proof that we'll upload later.

Yesterday was a Fun Day at Sea so we made the most of it by eating, reading, sleeping, changing position, eating, sleeping and reading. But it was Captain's Alcohol night so Skeeziks, Auburn and Marcy took downright advantage of the situation and went for the good stuff. Mickey had a fruit punch and lead the stumblers to their places at the dinner table.

Each night we end our day with a foa beathered, bathrobed march to the hot tubs. As our rooms are nowhere near that end of the ship, we sashay across the entire Lido deck (deck 9 for those of you with score cards) picking up followers along the way. We're up to six groupies but are trying for ten by tonight.

Scenary is here, wish you were beautiful,
dot... dot... dot

-The Palermo Sisters and Marcy

PS The title is some form of HELLO in Croatian in case you were wondering. We couldn't decide which was the most appropriate.

The World’s Longest Day Continues…

A thousand apologies, our many followers, but it would seem we entered the mental version of the Bermuda Triangle since embarking on this journey. Only by virtue of the Drink Card and abundant ice cream machines did we escape and are now able to bring you this report. Let's go now to the beginning: Rome.

Despite Auburn's best efforts to get a strip search, the apparent custom in Italy is not to make you go through Customs. Their motto is, "Benvenuti, bring anything you want into our country." No forms, no bag searches, no body checks. Oh well, I'm sure we'll be thoroughly searched by our own government upon our return.
(Upon second thought, the knowing nod Auburn received from the Italian Customs agent may have been an acknowledgement that The Outfit's message regarding a certain 'favor' had been received. There are some things even they don't want to see, but more on that when we get to Sicily.)

Here we break into our narrative to introduce you to our fourth Mouseketeer, “Marcy”. Fresh from the Grand Ole Opry, Marcy the bartender aka stagehand aka parking attendant aka camp counselor, rumored to have seen Elvis naked (before the fat years) fell in with us like yellow on Bobbi Canary.

We now return you to the story at hand.

Hour 72 on no sleep or showers, we traipsed off to the Vatican to view historical works of art, get shushed repeatedly in the Sistine Chapel and pray for Auburn's' depraved soul. Sadly, Auburn was nowhere around by the time we'd located the Pope as parts of the Vatican structure wheezed, buckled, and finally crumbled all around her, effectively cutting her off from her friends and saviors. Damn, centuries of history withstanding earthquakes and wars only to be torn apart by Auburn's depravity. She awoke outside the remaining Vatican walls sprinkled in Holy Water with a neck tag reading, "Return to Hell, Postage Due."

Mickey and Skeeziks, meanwhile, were taking in some local culture. As in purloining. As in steeling. Being an employee of one of the world's largest art and drug smugglers, Mickey should have no problem with getting ‘things’ back into the US. Psst? Does anybody know a good fence for Michelangelo's Pieta or a panel from the Sistine Chapel? Please send comments privately or refer him/her to our listing on eBay.

Feeling an involuntary visit from Morpheus upon us, our first day in Italia came to a snoring close.
**PS Xenos, please check your email for a “transmission of a sensitive nature” from the joint efforts of the Palermo Sisters and the Dark Prince. Jillybean: LALALALALA! Everglade, probe Xenos. And probe her and probe her and probe her. Relentlessly.