Much as I like Halifax, living in the Maritimes is a non-starter for me. (Sorry Anne.)

Why?

Too many smokers.

It’s disgusting.

As I toured Nova Scotia, one Tim Hortons to the next, I had to push my way through nicotine addicts lurking at each entrance. Yeesh.

Why can’t those Maritimers go work their short-term Summer jobs as mandated by pogie?

I fled the second hand smoke for Italy.

Doh!

Italy is even WORSE. (Remind me not to travel to Cuba.)

And why am I even in Italy? I’m one of the few people you know who doesn’t want to travel in Italy. It’s the last place I wanted to go … last except for the land of the cheese-eating surrender monkeys.

My Mom reminded me of my only other trip to Italy, over 30yrs ago. I wrote her this on a postcard:

… “Italy is Great…too bad it is run by Italians” …

Italian men back in 1976 were totally irritating.

Happily I can report they’ve improved over the past few decades.

In fact, it seems the young Italian men have collectively opted into a 1980s George Michael look-alike contest. Pretty funny. I don’t speak Italian, but I’d estimate at least 6 million young men, so far, have voluntarily joined into this amusing competition.

It’s great to see that those (formerly) arrogant pricks are now able to laugh at themselves.

The detested Italian machismo seems to be fading.

Of course I’m in Italy for hiking. It was a complete surprise to me. One minute I was searching the internet for cheap flights to Iceland. The next I’d bought a $100 ticket Gatwick to Venice.

Here I am in Bolzano, no guidebook. It’s like the blind leading … myself.

Fortunately 6 of my 10 words of Italian from the distant past have returned to me.

Oh, … I should add that there are only 2 good smokers in the World. And one of them is trying to quit.