In 2008 France, The Flat Rules

I've discovered that French shoe fashion doesn't follow what most women in America prefer. I first noticed this when I saw a women wearing ballet slippers. These women at my cooking school all agreed--the flat rules. No chunky heels here, no big high clogs or high heeled sneakers.

I had written on my other blog about how if you want to NOT look like an American, you should lose the white athletic shoes. (Hey Paul, that's a hint!) So that made me more aware of footwear and I've been looking at shoes here ever since.

I noticed that few women were wearing heels. They all had on flats, of various types, but mostly really slipperlike shoes and few had on flip-flops. I've seen almost no women here wearing sneakers.

One resident, who's about 50, said she thought it had to do with Carla Bruni, Sarkozy's foxy new wife. She stands a bit taller than the president, so she always wears flats. But after I asked a few more women, the answer came back that it's just the style and it's not because of Carla. Flats, they said, are just more comfortable.

We got stuck in a rainstorm and my city tour guide and I sat under an umbrella in a doorway waiting for the rain to let up. A woman walked by with a pair of totally soaked and soggy ballet slippers--showing that what's in style is not always the most practical.

Ahh, the Delicate and Fussy Macaron

I'd never given much thought to how one of France's most famous cookies was made. Macarons, they're called. Today I got an up-close look at how these delicious little sandwich cookies are made, when I joined ten French women for a baking class at tours a Table, owned by a tall bespectacled woman named Frederique Dupuis.

It's a busy place, this cooking school, located on a main street in Tours. Passersby constantly gawk into the windows, interested in what all of those people in aprons are doing in there. Some ask for business cards, others phone Madame Dupuis incessantly, the place was hopping as I joined the group who spoke exclusively in French.

To make macarons, one needs to take almond flour and confectioner's sugar and force it into a seive, so that only a powdery consistency is present. This sounds easy, but it takes about 15 minutes of constant stirring, and grinding the two ingredients into the sieve. I took turns with two women named Caroline, passing the bowl back and forth as we all nearly faded. But that was merely, oh yeah, merely the first of many steps.

You must whip up egg whites, and then blend them gently with a variety of colors. The video above shows the magic that happens when you put in violet coloring and continue to mix. Then you must fold the almond flour/sugar into the whipped whites, slowly, folding...folding...folding, if you rush, you get it wrong.

Then you must let this mixture sit. Sit because if you try to do it too soon, before a little clump of this dough doesn't fade after ten minutes, you have to wait. So after a while you jam the dough into a plastic wrap funnel and begin making oh so tiny little cookies on the baking sheet. "closer, closer to the papier," said Madame Dupuis. "Then leeft it up, just make them leetle."

The one-inch or so rounds are put into the oven for nine minutes. Exactly nine. Then after a long period of cooling, some of them stubbornly sticking to the pan, they are cooled and then made into delicate precious little sandwiches, filled with chestnut essence, jam or chocolate. Phew! That was a lot of work for such tiny little cookies. But one bite convinces it was all worth it.

A Young Turk Succeeds with Organic Wine

Vincent Careme is one of many young winemakers who are creating great white wines in the area around Vouvray, near Tours, France.

Compared to the storied wine regions of Burgundy and Bordeaux, land costs in this part of the country are cheap, allowing twenty-something winemakers like Careme to begin early.

He grew up on a farm where his father cultivated vines, and in 1998, at age 21, he began his journey into winemaking. Though his family was better known for their vegetables, he's now making a name for himself at top restaurants in the Loire Valley, where many of his customers come calling after they've had his wines at dinner. His sparkling and still Vouvrays are crisp and oaky. He says that the sparkling wines outsell the rest of his varieties.

While we visited the small winery in the village of Vernou-sur-Brenne, that produces just 80,000 bottles a year, customers from Belgium and Switzerland drove up to pick up some cases. Tania, his friendly South-African born wife, helps with the bookkeeping and managing and his faithful yellow lab Provence stuck around our feet while we tasted his products. Inside, Pierre, their 2 1/2 month old son, sleeps under the watch of his mom. Someday he may become a winemaker too. "Or an accountant!" said Tania with a laugh.

"What makes your wine special?" I asked. "It's all organic, and it's hand picked," he said. Tania said that Vincent has always been particular about chemicals, preferring not to have them in his food, or in his house. This adds much to the labor costs. They do things like spray their vines with water that's been soaked in poison ivy to prevent fungus, and a lot of close tilling to keep the weeds down.

When we walked his vineyard, it was a big change from what I've seen in other growing regions: long grass, a few weeds and a much healthier overall environment. "We use copper and sulphur, and we have to hire more people but we think it's worth it," he said.

Lighting up Ancient Buildings Brings Out Crowds

All over France, a new tradition is bringing citizens and visitors into the streets at night. It's called Les Nuits Lumiere, or Illuminated Nights, and combines classical music and large images projected on buildings, bridges and other surfaces. Using the lines of the ancient buildings in the city, like the Palace of Jacques Coeur and the gigantic cathedral, the indented porticos, archways, and marble gargoyles provide a perfect backdrop for the carefully sized images, that dance on the walls. The city has set up five 10 minute shows that run on an endless loop beginning about about 10:30, (when it's fully dark here) to midnight. We saw similar light shows in Chartres and they are catching on fast here.

To find each of the five light shows in Bourges, you follow the trail of blue lamplights and enter into a courtyard, or the front of a palace, and watch the images project up onto the marble or limestone of the buildings. It's simple; blown up medieval characters taken from tapestries, or figures of Burgundian-era town officials sliding across the bottom of a row of arched windows. The giant figures fade in, fade out, angels appear and then fade, and crowds are conjured up using the detailed lights of a series of projectors. The sides of the buildings or the window sashes light up intermittently, adding to the effect that is mesmerizing.

Ken Burns would have love this technology, it's much like what he does on a television screen, except this is much, much bigger, shorter and it's all done outside for the public to view for free.

Listening to Frogs in Marais, Bourges France

This morning we walked around an area called the Marais, the marshes in Bourges, France, where 1500 local people tend gardens among watery trails and wildlife. In this video you can hear the frogs making their mating noises in the marsh. It's a lovely spot, surrounded by water and some of the gardens can only be accessed by special flat bottomed skiffs called plates. The bird sounds and peacefulness of this place makes it a must-visit for anyone who comes here.

A Proud Father and Luthier Carves Cellos in Bourges

We walked through the city of Bourges, in the center of the region of Cher, not expecting such a lovely and compact old city. I just never knew how nice this town was, and it surprised me. But it's been a center of history and the cathedral is as dramatic as the one up north in Chartres. There is a Roman wall that curves around the city and dozens of half-timbered houses right below.

One street is marked by three flutes, and was once used to signal the beginning of the old red light district. No red lights any more, but we wandered up this street and came upon a luthier's shop. Inside we met a craftsman named Jackie Gonthier, who was busy working on the rough-hewn neck of a cello. He's a rarity, since there are few luthiers left in France, and he's known by violinists and cellists all over the country.

Our guide told us this was the first time she'd been able to take people in to meet him since he's usually too busy to stop for nosy reporters like us.

He was gracious and answered our many questions about his craft. Then he said that his son Vincent is also a luthier, carrying on the Gonthier tradition, but he's doing it in Hong Kong. The proud papa showed us a catalog that showed his son inside, and you could tell it made him happy to have such a talented son.

Like many men of his generation, he got his name from JFK. He said that it takes about a month to make one of these fine instruments, the head made of sturdy maple, and the hollow body made of spruce. It takes much longer to varnish it, he said.

We thanked him for sharing his story with us. "Do you play?" we asked. "To make violins you have to play the violin," he answered.

Time to Taste, er, Guzzle, More Crisp White Wines

White, white, white, this afternoon was a blizzard of white. White wine that is, from the Sancerre region of the Loire Valley. Hit me with half full glasses of refreshing sauvignon blancs from domains like Quincy, and Sancerre, and after a few I am....well, sleepy. Then we pile into the van and drive to....another vineyard to meet another producer to....taste more white. It was a struggle, but as they say, somebody has to do it.

We dozed a bit in the van driving the hilly country with breathtaking views of rolling hills and miles and miles of green wheat fields. We made it to a farm where we met Dominique, who with her husband milks a herd of 150 goats and produces excellent chevre. We met a whole bunch of very friendly and inquisitive goats, who nuzzled and poked and prodded us as if we were going to feed them. Then we met a sad bunch. The four-day old males who would soon, well, let' s just say they won't be down for breakfast very much longer.

With a view like this, who could not like this hotel, appropriately named The Panoramic. Viva la France, while the wine buzz fades away, I have a chance to drink in a million dollars worth of vines spread out before me as you see in this photo.

Learning to Cook in Orleans, France

Steak with Giant Foie Gras Hat in Chartres

This perfectly cooked medium rare steak came with a three-quarter inch thick slice of sizzling fois gras on top.

It's one of those foods that just melts in your mouth, and to have this copious slice on top of a grilled steak was a meat-lover's heaven.

We helped cook our dinner with a chef named Stephane Bernard, who's worked at Michelin starred restaurants in Paris. His meal of stuffed chicken, fresh asparagus and a chocolate tart was even better since we watched him cook it for us at Le Panier Se Cree cooking school in Orleans.

She's Making the Big Leap Next Week

This is Stephanie Le Donne's last week of working at her day job. She met our van at the Hotel de Ville in Orleans, where she took us on a city tour that included the city's famous cathedral, which is a monument to the heroin of this city, Joan of Arc. She showed us statues of the famous teenager, and avenues named for her, and then told us about her exciting plan to break free and do her own business full time.

"I hope you don't mind if I give you some of these brochures," she said, pulling a stack from a rack in a city building we were touring. "I have bought a new van, and I take people on private tours of the chateaus, to shopping trips in Paris, and all around the Loire Valley," she said.

With her sweet smile and ability to speak three languages, she's all set up and ready to conquer the tourist biz with her new outfit called Odysee en Val de Loire. She will meet the guests at their hotels and show them this part of the world that she's learned about through her job working for the city as a tourist guide. So the next time you need a tour guide in the Loire Valley, we recommend Stephanie!

There is Chocolate...and There is Chavanette

Since 1765, The Chavanettes have been making chocolate from scratch here in Orleans, France at Chocolaterie Royale. Standing in front of a life-size mermaid made of carved chocolate, we met the master of chocolate, the handsome 43-year-old Charles Chavanette, who arrived on his motorcycle and quickly changed into his chef's whites and toque to talk about his passion.

This is no ordinary chocolate, mixed from a factory-made batch and decorated. No, Chavanette approaches these beans with care and meets the farmers in Ecuador, Java, Venezuela and the Dominican Republic who grow them. "It's a political product," he told us in French. He said that he works with Oxfam , helping to give credentials to worthy farmers, and that much like the fair trade movement in coffee, there are some parts of the world where cocoa beans mean bad things. That's why he doesn't buy beans from Africa. Things like child labor taint even good beans.

He said he likes the darkest, most intense flavors, like the one he hands us from a little silver plate. It is barely sweet, very strong, and he said it's 100 percent chocolate, so there are not as much natural sugars. These dark morsels were from Java, very different from the pieces from Ecuador we had just tasted. The samples from Madagascar were from red cocoa beans, he said.

Chavanette has a plan, one that will bring these gourmet high-end morsels of chocolate to the US. He wants to open in Los Angeles, not New York. He said he's worked in the Big Apple and wants instead to conquer the US from the left coast. I asked him what was the difference between these dark black pieces we were tasting and chocolate made in a factory.

"It takes about four hours for them to make it, but I roast the beans slowly, and it takes between 24 and even 72 hours for me to make the same amount." Like good cooking, you can definitely taste the difference that time makes in Charles Chavanette's chocolates.

Chartres' Famous Blue

Chartres is a jewel among religious shrines of the world. These panes are among dozens of intricate stories that are told by images made by glass pieces. It's hard to do justice to the famous "Chartres blue" which is the most dominant color on the 12th century windows that face the main entrance.

At night the city lights up this magnificent building with a light show that projects images such as these on the outside of the whole building. Chartres also lights up 17 other buildings, bridges and other large outdoor areas every night from May 1 through September. The images move across the buildings and it is a mesmerizing experience to see a lightshow on such a huge building.

Chartres Shows Clever Ways to Avoid Driving a Car

I've found a slice of time to share some first day thoughts on Chartres, home of the world famous cathedral as well as a neat little compact town of about 42,000. They have built a lot of underground parking, here, you walk back from the 12th century cathedral and see many stairs going down, and lots of open paved spaces with fountains and long flowing water channels.

I was told that putting all of those cars down there has opened up the center of the city. It's a nice contrast between the two towers of the cathedral and these plazas. We walked past a store that sold electric bicycles...from what Kentski told me it's a nice way to ride, it gives you a little boost so that you still pedal but not has hard as without the electric assist.

In Paris this morning, all over the city were the Velibes, the free bikes that are available to anyone and look funny and non-personal, with their molded plastic handlebars and simple design . They are all women's models with long fenders and a red light on the back. I saw many a businessman and businesswomen dressed for work cruising by on these tan and seemingly ubiquitous rides. Then I passed a long rack of them where you return them after use.

There are also little electric vans called "Navettes" here in Chartres, vehicles that take tourists up to the cathedral and other sites, so they can leave their cars behind. More and more I'm seeing great ideas and ways to avoid using cars. From the fantastic double-decker trains that whisked me from Paris in comfort, to the many bikes and bike paths, France like so much of Europe is thinking ahead.

Another exciting bike-related project is in the works, called "La Loire a Velo," It's an 600 kilometer bike path that follows the Loire river all the way from St-Nazaire to Sancerre. Soon it will be 800 km, and planners envision this being a part of a bike path that will stretch all the way across Europe to Budapest.

Their Move Out of Town Was Guided by Their Commitment to Amherst?

It's hammer time in Amherst. Larry Kelley is merciless on anyone who has the temerity to be elected to town government. His latest victim are a couple who serve on the selectboard but who have bought a house in, gasp, South Hadley. Anne Awad and Robbie Hubley also own a condo in Amherst, but just plunked down $310,000 for the bigger house in the neighboring town. In newspaper letters to the editor, the pair claim that they are being hatcheted by the press, and say that they are still great servants to the Amherst voters who elected them.

But Kelley will have none of that. He looks up the fine print of the mortgage application from Florence Savings Bank and finds that the document forces the couple to assert that the South Hadley home is their primary residence. Kelley publishes a photo of the letters to the editor showing the couple's lame excuses...and also publishes photos of the Florence Savings loan applictions and quotes from the text, showing that something is amiss here.

I agree, I think that if anyone on Deerfield's selectboard moved to Sunderland and then claimed to still be residents of our town, we'd all laugh at them. But in true 'slain with one's own sword' style, here is the quote that the couple printed in the letter that makes no sense whatsoever.

"We are legal residents of Amherst. Our decisions about moving to South Hadley will be guided by our commitment to the community of Amherst." Huh?

Awad and Hubley deserve all of the flack they are getting when they print this silly statement in the paper. I predict that they will not be selectboard members very much longer.

He Has No Home, Just a Gulfstream Jet

Nicolas Berggruen doesn't have a home anymore. But don't pity him--he still owns a Gulfstream IV jet. He's a reclusive billionaire who has decided that he doesn't want to own a house any more. Or a car. So he lives in hotel rooms and does most of his work running his financial firms using a Blackberry while walking around Central Park. The story by Robert Frank was in last week's WSJ, and had a photo of him in the park's leafy confines, looking up and thinking about big issues. 'Living in a grand environment to show myself and others that I have wealth has zero appeal, " he told Frank.

The story talked about legacies...and how today's billionaires are trying hard to burnish them by creating foundations to solve big problems. Even younger rich want badly to do more than live in fancy homes, seeing how little that really brings them in actual happiness at the end of the day. Berggruen made his billions doing deals such as when he bought the foundering Foster Grant sunglasses company. He took it public for a huge gain. He's also a former owner of one of the largest media companies in Portugal...again it's been sold for more billions.

It was when he bought a giant grain ethanol plant in Oregon that he began seeing that much of the world's food production was being used for fuel. This prompted him to assemble a team of agricultural experts and begin his project to grow crops for food.

Now he is interested in helping the world grow more food. To that end, he's bought up hundreds of thousands of acres in Australia, where he plans to grow grains. He's working on more big land deals, and contemplating huge plantations of cassava, corn, rice, olives and other crops.

He reserves one indulgence that will be a big part of his legacy. He collects fine art. But since he's sold his lavish homes, they sit in storage, waiting for some day when a museum will be built to exhibit them.

We're Giving Money to Farmers Who Don't Need It

I knew I was mad about this farm bill that was just passed over President Bush's veto. I knew it because it is a perfect example of waste...huge, bloated government waste, and subsidies for rich farmers who are now making more money than they ever have. Both parties love farm bills, and the last one was nearly as bad. But now with grain prices hitting records, the farm bill is just a very sad joke. And the joke's on us because it will become law soon. $300 billion worth of waste.

You might have noticed that food prices are up...way up. Cotton is up 105%, corn is up 169%, wheat is up an incredible 256%. Yet the farm bill proposed to shovel subsidies at farmers who DON'T NEED THE MONEY!

The WSJ has an editorial today that lists some of the facts. New price supports, or, the minimum price farmers will be paid for crops, have been raised to match this year's record prices. So if corn, which has never cost as much as it does now, $6 per bushel, goes back down to last year's price of about $3.25, farmers will get $10 million in subsidies. Sugar farmers get an even sweeter deal: the difference between the world price, $12 per pound, and the guaranteed price of $21. So they will pull in a 75% subsidy, which the editorial states, is a good payoff for the $3 million they gave to House candidates each year. African farmers beg the US and Europeans to stop these subsidies, since they have no chance of ever exporting to us with these giveaways in place that poorer governments can't provide to truly needy farmers.

You would think that John McCain, Mr. "let's stop the earmarks and stop the waste" might vote against this bloated bill. No, he's too busy campaigning to do that. Same with Obama, doesn't even vote, and claims to support it 'but not corporate lobbyists...which is what this is.

The whole bill is a massive entitlement that joins existing required spending that could jack up tax rates up to 80% higher in the future. Waste. greed. Special interests, lobbyists. Nothing changes and this whole thing makes me sick.

Moped Jim Doesn't See What All the Fuss is About

Yesterday I read a story about scooters in the WSJ. More on that later. I also rode my own scooter for the first time in many months. My two-stroke Taiwanese ride had been marooned up at 'Moped Jim's' as we call Jim the owner of Mohawk Motors, and I finally got it back running like a champ. I could tell by Jim's enthusiastic tw0-handed shake that he was glad I finally paid him.

Jim was recently in the news after he fixed Deerfield's famous lighthouse, which had sustained damage after a late-night car crash on Rte 5&10. Jim told me he was a bit perplexed about the intense news interest in the little fake lighthouse, which months later he has repaired almost to its former glory. "I don't know why they think this is such a big deal," he said, after the front page splash when it was damaged.

The story in the Journal stated that Vespas are becoming serious commuter vehicles, after years of being considered fun little toys of the rich. Now, people are streaming into dealerships asking about how much gas they suck...which is about 80 mpg. That turns a normal commute in a Honda Civic from a $30 to a $7 per week expense. Kaching!

My neighbor Mark scoots by daily on his Yamaha machine. It's a little bigger than mine, since at 49 cc, the state doesn't require a motorcycle license or insurance. But he told me that he's ridden his 150 cc model all the way to Boston. Wow, that sounds painful. It goes about 55, while mine tops out at about 35. Still, that's fast enough to negotiate the traffic flow of Sugarloaf St. so it makes my commute work just fine.

La Sobremesa is What Makes Life Interesting

Once in a while someone writes an article for GoNOMAD that really hits a chord. That happened today when we posted Paul Shoul's piece about Zaragoza Spain. The reason it resonated was a simple Spanish word that means lingering for a long time over dinner. That's one of my favorite things in the world, and he opens his story with a tale that perfectly sums up the topic. I love this word and plan to share it the next time I visit my family in NJ and we sit after dinner and talk.

"The Burger King across the street definitely did not fit in. It was empty inside; the glowing neon sign was awkward and garish compared to the subtleties of the aged wooden facades on the other cafes around it.

The cafes were full of people at the end of the working day, talking loudly, laughing, eating tapas and drinking wine. I said to my friend Anna from the Spanish tourism office, who was born here, "I notice that there is nobody in there?"

"Where, in The Burger King?" she said, "Only children go in. Why would you? Fast food does not fit in with our culture, it leaves no room for la sobremesa."

Yes the sobremesa is what's important to people like Paul, and people like me.

"You eat, then you have a coffee, a little pastry you talk and suddenly four hours later you realize that you are all still at the table, so maybe another coffee… And on and on… That is la sobremesa."

Life is all about these types of experiences. Like lingering over coffee at the cafe, or having one of those spirited discussions over refills of wine, then switching to water, and continuing the talk....yes sobremesa is what keeps life alive!

The Rumbler Wakes Up Even the Most Clueless Drivers

Distracted by your loud radio, jangling cellphone or that lovely scone you're munching on? The Boston Police Department has a new way to rouse you out of your drivers seat stupor--it's called The Rumbler.

Today's Boston Globe showed a police officer with the initials RJS on his sleeve holding what looks like one of those 1960s era sirens that sat atop the Ford Galaxie 500 cruisers. This is the Rumbler, a device that emits both a sonic and an earth-shaking rumble to alert motorists that a cruiser with his blue lights on is barreling down on them.

More than 150 police departments have embraced the new technology, said the Globe story, since as one Boston Police official said, "people are just not hearing us." With the activation of the rumbler, there is no way you cannot tell you're being tailed by blue lights. One blogger said he thought he was being attacked by a giant sea monster when he heard and felt the noise on the street below.

"Our society is so loud that public safety officials need to up the ante in order to get somebody's attention," said a member of the Noise Free America organization. "It's kind of ominous."

This and That and a Cool New Map on GoNOMAD

We are settling into life under the new managers of the cafe. I slaved away for half of Sunday, and even though I was so tired I had to nap after my shift, it was good to be there and welcome the customers and to know once again how hard it is to do that kind of work. Some times my hands need a little toughening up after weeks of typing on a keyboard or talking on the phone.

I owe a shout out and a thank you to gentleman who's helped us out many times. Don Miller and his son run Northampton Rental, and every so often we drive down to rent glasses for a party or tablecloths for some event. This last time he just waved me away and said, ýou're all set' when I tried to pay for my rental. That was nice of him and he deserves a thank you.

We have created a whole new look and some cool new features on GoNOMAD.com, adding a map you can click to find articles about that continent. We're happy to have Manjula, one of our talented web designers, who worked on this for us here in the office.

Got the men together last night for a rousing and very satisfying night of poker. Dave C even brought up a huge poker table, with requisite spaces for drinks and places to keep chips from falling away. I managed to win some hands and it was great to have the six of us together again.

Stories and Photos Bring Sierra Leone to Montague

Marina Goldman is just back from Sierra Leone, with stories to share and photos to show. We got a chance to see and hear about her trip, and about an organization she supports tonight at a party she had at her house in Montague. She made ground nut soup, and with a full house of neighbors and friends, we learned about some of the frustrations she experienced in a country that was wracked with warfare and civil unrest and is just now coming back to a semblance of normalcy. Many of the people in the photos were missing limbs and legs, victims of the terrible rash of violence that turned kids into killers of neighbors and relatives. Nowadays, there are former soldiers and former rebels, and nobody really knows who was who.

Marina was in the Peace Corps during the '80s, and a few months ago she returned to the same village of Kabala where she had spent her earlier years. Many of the people she knew were still there, and they congratulated her on the fact that she was no longer skinny...they said she looked well fed and they appreciated that. She showed us photos during the party that illustrated the rough roads, and the lives lived in a country that ranks at the very bottom of nearly every chart.

Female circumcision is still regulary practiced in the village, and the only progress is a movement to use clean razors and some other sanitary measures. Malarial mosquitoes still plague nearly all of the villagers, and long lines outside the clinics are full of patients with this illness. Marina said that people are skeptical about using the newly built hospitals, since transport is so difficult, and most prefer to stay in the villages and use tribal remedies.

The women do most of the work, and the men often have more than one wife, but do little except drive around on motorbikes and drink.There is very little of an economy, so people for instance stash large amounts of cash under their beds, since there are no banks in which to cash checks or exchange money, in the villages.

She wants to go back...because the West Africa Foundation has lots of work to do there. She helped raise money and brought five boxes of medicine and vaccines to a clinic in the remote bush. She took her husband Josh by surprise when she said she wanted to return to Sierra Leone as early as January. But he knows that to his midwife life partner, this is what's important. So he'll surely be as supportive as he was during her last long trip to a place so very far away.

Famous Oilman Ponies Up Billions for Wind Turbines

A few weeks ago I read a column by Thomas Friedman in the NY Times about the absolute lack of any energy policy in the US. The most galling fact was that at the end of this year, federal tax credits for installing solar and wind power systems will expire. How can we let this happen, when we're staring blankly at $125 a barrel oil, that our congress can dither and let the most important incentive to creating new clean energy expire? In Germany, they guarantee the price of a kilowatt of solar energy and they have farmers putting in panels on every field. Everyone gets it, that we need to encourage and promote solar and wind...except us.

Today's WSJ has a story that once again shows the capitalist system pushing in the right direction, despite of the lack of initiative from government. Famous oilman T. Boone Pickens just placed the biggest single order ever of General Electric wind turbines for a planned 4000 megawatt wind farm he is building on the plains of Texas. He ordered 667 of GE's 1.5 megawatt turbines, spending $2 billion on just the first phase of the giant Pampa Wind Project.

People like Pickens hope that the federal tax credits are extended, of course. State-level incentives like the laws that demand a certain percentage of power be clean are helping. But the good thing about capitalists charging down this road is that it shows that it's not for hippies any more, and that clean energy like wind and solar are real answers to the energy conundrum.

Kate Cosme, BS, Nursing 2008

Here's my lovely daughter Kate at Elms College's pinning ceremony, where she joined 35 other hardworking nurses who got their bachelor's degrees last Monday.

It was a wonderfully personal ceremony, with the speaker announcing each nurse's background and ambitions for the future. While they said that Kate wanted to be a midwife, she said that she is more likely to try to become a nurse practitioner some day.

Boy it's sure nice to watch a proud group like this receive their pins and think that they all have great jobs that will be even better after they get these degrees. It's hard to have this same level of exhilaration watching three hundred UMass grads trudge off the stage, since there is no way they are going to be as quickly employed and they will carry big debts with them long after the caps and gowns are stowed away.

When Pigs Fly...Bill Shaves the Beard!

I first met this guy in 1978, when both of our daughters were in the womb and we took a birthing class together with our wives. At that time, and for the following three decades, he sported a big logger's beard. Many times we've joked about whether he'd ever cut it off, but he scoffed...never.

Today I walk into the cafe and there in the corner is a guy who looks like Bill's brother Jeff. No way! It's Bill Hewitt, sans his trademark whiskers. I ran home to tell my daughter Kate, who also has never seen him without it.

When pigs fly? Well, not quite, but everyone in the Valley who knows Bill will be amazed when they see him again.

This Isn't The Way It Was Supposed to Turn Out

What kind of country are we to be? This question was posed to me last night in a profound column by Thomas Frank, titled "Our Great Economic U-Turn," in the WSJ.

Thomas began the story by stating some of the stark economic facts that begin to define our society in 2008: The top hedge fund manager in 2007 earned a $3.7 billion, yes billion. The real hourly wages for workers have risen a mere 1 percent since 1979. Americans now clock more hours per year than any other country, even Japan, productivity is up 60 % yet wages are stagnant.

Health insurance continues to be a nightmare for just about everyone except state employees, and pension plans are becoming a relic. The column went on, following the downward spiral that the working man's world in the USA has become. It made me angry, and then sad, and then worried about my kids' futures.

It's been said a million times that this country is tilted toward the super rich. I meet travel agents who cater to them, I meet landscapers who 'only do high end,' I meet financial advisors who only want to work with the top earners. Everyone is chasing the 'whales' and even our president is pushing to make permanent the tax cuts that help the richest be richer.

But it isn't good, Thomas says. It is a plutocracy and we ought to be talking about it, and asking these three people who are running for president to address wealth inequity. And universal health insurance. And real mass transit, and rights for workers, who are on sad treadmills with little hope that things will improve.

Thomas talks about those who voted for Reagan. Yes, they wanted us to stand tall as a country, yes they wanted the government regulators off our backs. But did they want a banker's utopia? Did they, or we, want America to turn into a place with this kind of disparity?

Saying Good Bye to a Wonderful Gal

This morning we said good bye to a wonderful member of our cafe staff. Liz Bagley is moving to British Colombia, and is today picking up a puppy to join her on her long drive west.

I wrote her a note of appreciation and inside I slipped two VIP passes for two night stays at any Red Roof Inn. I Figured that with this 3000 mile journey she'll need a place to stay en route.

People in the cafe business come and go. That's what everybody says when I lament about losing a good one like Liz. But what I have found out after more than two years here is that people do leave and then people who are working below them rise up.

Now we are bringing Samantha back as manager and Jesse will be our assistant manager. Both of these women will step up and cover all of the bases...I will let them manage with a free-hand and give them all of the tools they need to succeed.

He Translates the Scribbles from Bloods and Crips

Nick Cotto speaks gang. His story was featured on Masslive on Sunday, this former military man who can read the writing on the wall. The writing scrawled by gang members, that he says warns of bad things to come and battles to be waged.

He took a reporter on a tour of graffitti scared walls, in seedy back alleys in Springfield. He pointed to the words that meant one gang was after another. "BK" for example, means Blood Killer. The two gangs around the city are the Crips and the Bloods, so someone here was praising a killer of the other guys.

Then the big dis....a writer crossed out blood and wrote 'slob.' The reverse would be if a blood crossed out crip and wrote 'crab.' That's a big diss, and to some of these guys, that is a reason to shoot.

Celtic Paul Pierce recently flashed a gang symbol across the Boston Garden to the opposing bench, according to Cotto. He held his index finger and thumb forming a circle with the other fingers straight out. That meant 'blood up.' said the gang expert.

The photo in the story shows a six-point star, and nearby, the number 5 is written upside down. That's another diss. Both of these mean that someone is being threatened, says Cotto. When you see gang graffiti, you don't have to run the other way...just be warned that there might be trouble coming soon.

In a Saudi Desert, Thoughts Turn to Romance

The New York Times ran a story today that showed that love in Saudi Arabia is as arid and barren as the desert that surrounds the people there. Two cousins talk about romance in the safety of a remote desert outpost. Let's listen in.

“I am a romantic person,” he said. “There is no romance.”

What Nader meant was that Saudi traditions do not allow for romance between young, unmarried couples. There are many stories of young men and women secretly dating, falling in love, but being unable to tell their parents because they could never explain how they knew each other in the first place. One young couple said that after two years of secret dating they hired a matchmaker to arrange a phony introduction so their parents would think that was how they had met.

Now, in the desert, Nader’s candor set Enad off.

“He thinks that there is no romance. How is there no romance?” Enad said, his eyes bulging as he grew angry. “When you get married, be romantic with your wife. You want to meet a woman on the street so you can be romantic?”

Nader was intimidated, and frightened. “No, no,” he said.

“Convince me then that you’re right,” Enad shot back.

“I am saying there is no romance,” Nader said, trying to push back.

Enad did not relent, berating his cousin.

Under his breath, Nader said, “Enad knows everything.”

Then he folded. “Fine, there is romance,” he said, and got up and walked away, flushed and embarrassed.

A Final Thought About Sardinia's Kidnapping Biz

On our final day of this trip to Sardinia, we took advantage of a long layover to take a train into Rome, where we had pizzas at the Campo dei Fiori. It was lovely sitting under umbrellas eating margherita pizzas and not having any wine, since last week had been so full of fine wine--and how many days in a row can you gulp down wine at lunch and dinner? I had reached my limit and was happy to have a Coke with my anchovy pie.

Before I left for this trip, my wise old friend Ed told me over lunch that I should be careful...I was entering a wild land where kidnapping is common. He added that many of the criminals send pieces of victim's ears to reinforce their demands for ransoms. "I'm not kidding," he said, "It's real."

A woman we met from the Tourism board in Calgiari scoffed when I brought this up at dinner the first night. "That's like me being afraid to drive by a school in the US, because someone might shoot at me." she said there was nothing to fear.

Then as we drove in the bus toward a national park on the eastern side of the island called Supramonte, our guide pointed to a little town. "This is a wild place, the capital of kidnapping. There have been two kidnappings this year, but it's not as bad as they say."

So I had to give my old pal Ed credit, he was right, there are still kidnappings on this wild island. But I don't think they are targeting journalists or tour operators, so we've escaped unharmed and lived to tell the tale.

Moore's 'Sicko' Gently Shows Us a Better Way

I remember trying to rent Michael Moore's "Bowling for Colombine" at a video store here in Holyoke, and the clerk told us that they wouldn't carry the movie. It was censorship, and too bad for them, since they've gone out of business, like many other video stores.

Tonight through the magic of NetFlix, we rented his latest film, "Sicko" and it was poignant and very well crafted. I felt in the past with 'Bowling," and '9/11' that he is a snarky, knee-jerk kind of liberal who throws together lots of footage to try to hit you over the head to make his point.

But with this film, he simply shows the viewer what's out there, and contrasts it with our health care system. Seeing the ease with which patients get care in France, the UK, Canada and in Cuba makes me wonder...like many people I'm sure, what is wrong with us here?

I was actually jealous of the lives depicted in the movie, especially when he interviews a bunch of expats in a French cafe. Combine five to six weeks of paid vacation, free university, free medical care, unlimited sick days, and a longer life expectancy with the beauty and sensuality of France, and by God, it makes me wonder what I am doing here. Well at least I am going to France in a few weeks, if only for a week-long trip. But it seems that the French and many other people just have better priorities than we do. If that means fewer super-rich health executives and doctors, well that's good!

But the story of people who battle the HMOs and the bureaucrats were told simply, mostly in the sufferer's own words, and this made the film really work. And when Moore sends a check for $12,000 to help out a guy who runs an anti-Michael Moore website with his wife's medical bills, that made me realize that this guy is fighting for a just and right cause, and the bombastic approach of his other films has given way to a more human approach. And I hope that people see this film and like the French, make their voices heard.

What's The Best Thing About a Real Estate Recession?

While Kent enjoys dining beneath Frank Gehry-designed buildings in Dusseldorf, I am enjoying time at our comfy home in Holyoke. Here I got a chance to stay up a bit late reading a story in the WSJ about how the real estate drop is helping out conservation causes. It's the green lining of the sour real estate sector.

It turns out that many large developments that have been bitterly opposed by preservation groups are now becoming massive conservation schemes, since funding from banks is drying up. The photo in the paper showed an aerial shot of a gorgeous green and blue arc, the coast of Oahu's north shore, that was once the place where a massive resort was to be built.

It's nearly all green and undeveloped, and by God, now it will stay that way, since Oaktree Capital Management has thrown in the towel on their plan to build a mega-resort with five new hotels and condos. It was bitterly opposed by Hawaiians for years, and, after they missed a $687,000 payment, they've taken up the governor's offer to preserve the land. That's what I call progress!

It's also happening in Oregon, and Groton, MA, and in many other states. In Oregon, a 27-acre parcel was added to an existing park for a 20% lower price. And in Massachusetts a developer abandoned plans to develop a 360-acre farm, and the town will now keep the land as open space.

Stephan Neveleff, who had planned to build on an oceanfront parcel in New Smyrna, FL in 2005 was happy to get in touch with the Trust for Public Land. His plan to build 23 condos was scuttled and now the land will become a park at a loss of between $300 and $400,00. "It's just time to move on to something else," he said

Sometimes Writing Is Easy...and Fun

Last night I had a lot of fun writing my article about Huntington Beach--Surf City USA. That surprised me, because as any of the many writers who read this blog know, writing is not usually fun. It's a chore, it's a pain, and it's something we keep saying we'll get around to and some times turns into an obligation that hangs around your neck like a millstone.

But last night was different. I was researching Dean Torrance, of Jan & Dean, learning about the 20 million records they sold, and the way he helped Brian Wilson improve the lyrics of his greatest hit, "Surf City USA." My trip there was brief but it made an interesting story, with my surfing lesson and my long lunch with Dean. The city sparkles with that California sunlight, and the beaches are wide and out on the break, the surfers wait with bobbing dolphins.

Today I'll finish this up, and email a link to Wendy Haase, who set up the visit for me. It will be a great relief to see that story posted on our front page, with a little surfing photo as a 'thumbnail'. Now I've only got one more due, about Melbourne, which will no doubt be finished soon, if I can manage to enjoy writing it as much as this story.

Want a Slightly Wet, New Mazda? Tough Luck

A few months ago I read a fascinating article in Wired about the Cougar Ace, a freighter that was disabled and sank two years ago with nearly 5000 new Mazda automobiles inside. The story focused on the team of rugged salvagers who managed to refloat the vessel and save it.

But what happened to those cars? On Neatorama, I found out the answer, from an article in the WSJ on April 29. Despite pleas from movie makers who wanted to blow them up, schools who wanted to use the cars for shop classes and other people who just wanted a really cheap new car, they decided to crush all 4703 of them in Portland Oregon recently.

They blew up all of the airbags with detonators and drained, gutted squished and shredded each shiny new Mazda 3 that came up from the airtight hull of the Cougar Ace. It turned out that fears of being sued trumped any good will gestures they might have considered in disposing of the cars.

Ford, Mazda's parent company, "also worried that scammers might find a way to spirit the cars abroad to sell as new. That happened to thousands of so-called "Katrina cars" salvaged from New Orleans' flooding three years ago. Those cars -- their electronics gone haywire and sand in the engines -- were given a paint job and unloaded in Latin America on unsuspecting buyers, damaging auto makers' reputations."

The company did manage to salvage the valuable catalytic converters but they punctured all of the new tires, and sliced the alloy rims in two, to make sure nobody tried to resell them. The rest of the vehicles become pieces of metal no bigger than an ashtray, headed back to Asia where they will be remade--into new cars.

An Awful Bite of Lamprey, or Gamey Brown Bear

We were excited the other day when we got an email from a producer of the Travel Channel's "Bizarre Foods". He asked us about Ethiopian cuisine, since they were doing research for an upcoming show.

Since we had just published a wonderful article by Matthew Keady about a bike trip through the country, we replied with some links and our friend Marie Javins also got in touch with them about her experiences a few years back eating in Ethiopia.

Tonight I watched the show's host Andrew Zimmern dig into a small piece of marinated lamprey eel, while in St. Petersburg Russia. After a small nibble, he described the fish as 'really bad, with an ammonia after taste.' It was refreshing to see this big barrel chested guy actually admit that something was awful.

Then he was served a patty made of brown bear, which is a common menu item all over this city. Funny, thinking of these huge carnivores as a common food. They make it like meatloaf and it has this sort of mineral type of aftertaste that the host said was 'common in large animals.'

To drink on the street, St Petersburg residents like to drink very weak beer,from a portable keg that vendors pour drinks out of, charging just 25 cents a glass. It's 1-2 percent alcohol, they call it 'children's beer.'

We hope that this Travel Channel producer deems our advice on Ethiopia worthy of mention, either in the credits or on their website. It's always fun to hear from television shows, who seem to find us the way many others do...on Google searches.

The Bumpy Bikepath Is Finally Getting Fixed

I read today some fantastic news for those of us who enjoy riding our bikes on bike paths. Someone is finally doing something about the ridiculously bumpy Northampton to Amherst Norwottuck Rail Trail. Today's Gazette had the story by Nick Grabbe.

Originally, the path was built using recycled glass....sounds like a good idea, and as my cousin Steve joked, "it must have come from some guy with a ponytail." Craig Della Penna, local bike path guru, said that the current trail has seen fewer than half of the original users because of the annoying bumps. That recycled glass is visible on sunny days and the shards come up and puncture bike tires. No, that wasn't a good idea at all, thought the guy in the ponytail after so many people complained about their tires. Now crews use blowers to blow away the shards every week.

Crews will level out the bumps and in 2009, bids will go out to resurface the whole 8.5 mile long trail. One thing for certain, says the Mass Highway Dept, they'll never try to mix glass in again.

A Shepherd Turns a Spit in Supramonte

Today we got a chance to see the breadth of this huge island, the sweeping interior that is barely covered with civilization even though man has walked these hills and valleys for more than 6,000 years. Actually it was probably longer, since that only takes into account as far back as the Phoenicians, and somebody was likely to already be living here when they arrived.

The drive from the east coast to the tip of the far northwest was across a giant-sized valley. The sweep of the green fields, cut up broadly by stone fences, and punctuated by a surprising number of small extinct volcanoes, was breathtaking in how far you could see. Many of the little farm buildings we saw were abandoned, and some of the hills had the small conicle buildings that were once dwellings before even the Romans lived here.

Today's highlight was meeting a shepherd who lives way up on top of a hill in the Supramonte mountain range. We boarded four jeeps and drove up a rugged trail to the top, where this man has lived for decades, with no wife, just 70 sheep. A long wooden table was prepared for our large group, and strong local wine was served in pitchers, in front of our wooden plates. Sheep's milk ricotta with rosemary honey was the first treat, made that morning, and served on the wafer-thin bread found all over Sardinia. Then the salamis and the proscuitto, and then fresh sliced tomatoes...but inside a little conicle hut, the shepherd was busy.

He was turning a little spit and roasting two suckling pigs just for us. Deliciously creamy with crispy fat and tender lean meat, the pork treat came out right after the sliced fennel, and more of that tempting ricotta from a large deep pan. The setting was under bamboo reeds, and the views of the valley and the dramatic rocks above us were spectacular. A gorgeous sunny day, the buzz from that strong wine, and time to relax with a digestif...ahh, this was the pleasure that we knew we would eventually find on this big wild island of Sardinia.

Tomorrow we leave so early that we will be in Trastavere, Rome's famous neighborhood, by nine am. This hotel is gorgeous with a front row view of the inlet from the Mediterrenean. We got here at about 9:30 pm and will leave before the sun comes up...but no worries, as we are still thinking about that great mountain lunch with the lonely shepherd.

Here's a Place to Stay That Won't Break the Bank

This is the Hotel Arathena, a jewel in the Costa Smerelda town of San Pantaleo. While many of the fancy hotels that line the beaches go for $500 or $700 per night, this gorgeous place is just $70-140 euros per night including breakfast and dinner.

It's light and airy, and the restaurant called Trattoria Balbacana served up some of the best food we had the whole trip. The beach is just ten minutes down a winding road, and there's a cute pool up on top of this staircase.

Roman's Yacht at Costa Smerelda

Ugh...you know that sinking feeling when you wake up later than you meant to? We are staying in a four star hotel on the fancy schmancy Costa Smerelda...where Roman Abramovich's yacht (one of them anyway, a mere 300 feet) bobs in the harbor.

Yet we don't get a wake-up call and now Cindy is rushing to get all of her morning preparations done and still squeeze in some breakfast. Oh the tyranny of a multi-stop press trip with early wake-ups and dinners that go on until 1 am. But in true GoNOMAD fashion, we aren't complaining, no way! At least I've got a little time here in the sunny courtyard to blog, my favorite hobby.

This is the Gold coast, a place where people like Vladimir Putin have giant mansions, and the new President of Italy Berlusconi owns seven villas. It's spectacular the way that Amalfi is, with same dramatic cliffs and winding roads. Yet the rocks are more barren, more moon-like. The views of the water include these very large yachts, giant vessels that must be owned by sultans and shieks, not just rich dudes.

Today we travel inland, toward the other coast to Alghero, where we will jump into jeeps to see some of the territory a little closer up. An island of this size (just about as big as Sicily) with just 1.6 million people spread out over vast areas leaves a lot of room for sweeping views and giant spaces with no civilization. It's magnificent in its breadth and scope, to someone like me who is used to crowded New England...where there are few things I'd call sweeping or panoramic.

Meeting the Patriarch at Argiolas Winery

Antonio Argriolas is the patriarch of one of Sardinia's largest winemakers, of the same name. We met this 101-year-old sprite during our visit to the winery. Since 1937 he's lead the company and now is the retired chairman.

He said he drinks a glass of his wine every day, and that plus Sardinia's good air is what he attributes to his long life. His grand daughter Valentina runs the day-to-day operations, where they have a cooking school and a large winery.

Before we left for our trip, we met a woman named Susan who told us about a wine she had discovered at a local restaurant. It was Costamolino, and in fact it was a product of this winery.

Antonio was clearly pleased to meet all of the nice women in our group, and was very proud as he posed for hundreds of photos with his granddaughter. Even though he could not see the visiting journalists clearly, as they kissed his cheeks you could tell he was enjoying the deserving adoration from the Americani.

Varoom, Varoom at Forte Village on Sardinia

Where can you ride a speedy go-kart around a track built to resemble a real F1 track? And skate on a real ice skating rink, play soccer under the lights, dine in 32 restaurants, or stay either on the oceanfront, or in a more intimate hotel setting?

Hint, you won't have to drive anywhere, because it's all in the self-contained Forte Village, an all-inclusive resort on Sardinia's coast.

We got the tour and saw rooms that start at 700 euros per person per night, (that includes all meals and many of the best amenities) right up to 6,500 euros for the beachfront suites which look out over the beautiful Mediterranean.

This place might not be for everyone, but for the person who wants to avoid any driving, have a place for the kids to have fun, and enjoys lots of sports activities and a variety of restaurants and different lodging options, it might be great. Oh, and another great and unusual thing for Italy--they have free Wi-Fi throughout the property.

VIPs Enjoying the Parade in Cagliari

Riccardo Strano, Luisa Anna Depau, head of Sardinian Tourism, and the Mayor of Cagliari, enjoying the parade.

Youngest Parade Member in Cagliari

For 350 Years, This Parade Has Been the Highlight of Cagliari

Last night we had a late dinner and while we sat at long tables, we learned a bit more about the festival and parade that we had seen in Cagliari earlier in the day. For 350 years this has been a very important event that takes place the first day of May.

Riccardo Strano, head of Italian Tourism North America, became quite animated when he spoke about how unique this festival was, throughout the Mediterreanean, and talked about the legends that drive the whole affair. It meant a lot to him that Americans wanted to know about the parade's origins and traditions.

"The procession, the horses, they all go out to Nora," he said. Nora is about 4 kilometers out of the city proper and is a site of ancient ruins by the sea. "They ride out there and then, on the way back home, the horses gallop as fast as they can. It's a spectacular sight!"

This parade features elaborate costumes and gold jewelry that is all owned by the families, kept in special places and authentic right down to their shoes. Each village wears its own unique style, a conical hat, or a swept back beret. Of the more than 350 villages in Sardinia, just 150 are selected each year to be a part of the parade, and have their oxcarts and horses march before the thousands of cheering local citizens.

One man is made the honorary mayor, (pictured) and gets to have his powers for just the day of the parade. He wears the ceremonial sash, and is an important fixture in the parade.

But the most important part of the parade is the wooden box that holds a figure of Christ, into which the archbishop places flowers in front of the dignataries in the stands. This is where the crush of film and video cameras created a vortex of papparazzi energy, everyone thrashing to get their lens into that perfect shot. All over the street rose petals blanketed the pavement, as the important carriage and the horses and the costumed locals made their way past us.

Sardinian Street Scene

This dog was taking good care of its charges as we visited Phoenician ruins in the center of Sardinia yesterday.