Capri - Poolside Reflections...

We have sunk down into extreme relaxation mode. The past two days have been spent next to the pool, and we've decided not to do any more sightseeing in Capri. The "must see" Blue Grotto will have to wait until the next time we visit. We just can't be bothered to do anything at this point except lounge next to the pool. However, I did bring a notepad with me to the pool so that I could make some poolside reflections. Here they are:

Note to Self: The next time you decide to tell Mrs. TBF (who is lounging in the chaise right next to you that "I'm gettin' my tan on!!!", just remember that you have your iPod Shuffle blasting System of a Down into your ears at brain-melting volume, and that you are probably speaking at a volume that enables the people to hear you for a five-mile radius. I glanced over at Mrs. TBF, she was holding her finger over her lips, and I noticed that every person around the pool was staring and that the children were clutching the hems of their mother's wraps. Lesson learned...

Nipple exposure: Let's just say that Mrs. TBF had a bit of a mishap when she was bending over to apply sun tan lotion on my back. Enough said...

16 Euros for a Negroni at poolside is a bit extreme. I don't care if I win a $50 million dollar lotto...I will continue to make the one-minute walk to the little convenience store and buy my refreshments there. Mrs. TBF's Negroni = 16 Euros. TBF's 2 beers, 1.5 liter water, and can of Pringles = 8 Euros from the convenience store.

Mrs. TBF and I have been together for over 21 years, and I never realized before that she has...freaky little ears. The ear buds for her iPod don't fit into her ears. We'll have to search for new ear buds when we get back to Basel.

Oh...by the way...the guy in the room below us wasn't Khadafy (spelling?). I saw him, along with his wife, in the hotel lobby. They were speaking Italian, and while he could have been a "separated at birth twin", he definitely was not Khadafy.

Flop sweat: As most of you know, TBF is a big sweater. But, what the hell happened when we went out to dinner in Capri Town the other night? I was sitting next to an open window with a sea breeze, and I was sweating harder than Albert Brooks in Broadcast News. I've got to investigate some kind of medical treatment for this problem. I'm open to suggestions. As far as I can tell, nobody else in the room was sweating. As a matter of fact, the Italians appeared cold. Some were wearing jackets and scarves. What the heck is the matter with me?

Speaking of the restaurant...we overheard the couple at the table next to us in Capri Town telling the waiter that they were from Chicago. This resulted in Mrs. TBF and I speaking in hushed tones so that they wouldn't ask us where we're from. We hate when that happens. Is that weird? We just want to be alone when we're on vacation. Is that so wrong?

Spotted at poolside: We are staying at the Capri Palace Hotel. It's a five-star hotel, and it's pretty expensive (not trying to be a snob here...). I just bring that up to point out the interesting juxtaposition of the guest next to the pool sipping his 16 Euro Negroni while reading a book called: "The End of Poverty - How We Can Make It Happen In Our Lifetime". Is somebody feeling a bit guilty perhaps???

Didn't learn my lesson: Blurted out some loud comment to Mrs. TBF with the Shuffle blasting U2's "Achtung Baby". Damn! When will I ever learn?

Note to self for the rooftop garden: Plant an olive tree in a pot next spring. It's a nice plant, and a nice reminder of a sunny vacation....especially when it's gloomy and rainy in Basel.

Ciao!