Thursday, June 9, 2016

Travels of Jackie & Noel- Belgium to Italy by Bike - 6 #RPBP #Travel # Italy #Switzerland @NandJJourneys


As almost constant travelers for eighteen years, you'd think things would go smoothly when arriving into new countries.

Italy's border was in the distance, behind several hundred cars. Noel diligently nursed the throttle and we waited patiently, until, that is, a motorbike roared up the outside empty lane, so we did the same.

We spotted the 'any passport' sign and followed that. This lane was completely empty - that should have been the hint.

We reached the border control and weaved around two barriers (our next hint that we were in the wrong place!), and drove up to a frowning police man shaking his head.
'What are you doing?' he asked exasperated.
'We followed the 'any passport' sign.' Noel said.
With a big shake of head, rolling of eyes and tutting, he allowed us through. I guess it worked, but it wasn't the welcome we were after.

We'd paid our one off toll at Switzerland and it'd be so much easier if Italy had the same system, instead they have frequent road tolls.
We’re not very good at tolls!

The Italian roads and tolls were too hectic to take pictures - so enjoy some more of Switzerland!

Our first was confusing – many lanes with speeding cars on our tail while we tried to choose the right lane.
'You're coming up to a red light.' I said.
'Am I?' Noel had enough trouble with a hundred cars squishing into ten lanes of varying requirements. But another car was in front and went through. When the toll booth worker saw us he tutted, exclaimed something in Italian (I can only guess what, as he had his till tray in his lap and was clearly trying to knock off) - he waved his arms at us with his fingers together as only the Italian's can do - he did smirk though.
Especially when we admitted we are Australians.

Just a few miles down the road yet another toll came into view. Here, we just had to take a ticket.

For some reason (tiredness - read the next blog on the Italian drivers to find out why!) we couldn't see where to go and became pushed and funnelled into a 'pass lane'. We missed out on collecting a ticket.

'I am just waiting to be arrested.' Noel said, laughing.
'We can't be the first ones to ever do that!'
Before the mayhem of Italian roads we enjoyed the snow in Switzerland!

A few hours later we queued at the paying toll booth. The toll-booth man couldn't believe we didn't have a ticket.
With the queue growing behind us, I slid off the bike (squishing against the booth and fighting leg cramp) to dig the map out of the back of the pannier, we had to show him where we had entered the highway system.
He came out of the 'office' and checked our number plate, by this time half of Italy was behind us tapping their steering wheels.
For several long, slow minutes the toll booth man tapped on his computer, frowned, muttered and shrugged his shoulders. He kept keying in numbers, €29, €32, €49.
'I think we're going to be fined!" I said to Noel.

Suddenly a two-foot long, snaking receipt poured out.
'Pay this.' he said, while trying to roll it up into a suitable size to carry.
He pointed to €29, which was a relief, it was the smallest amount, but the receipt still listed other amounts.
'Go over to the office,' he pointed and suddenly his English had become fluent, 'and see if you can explain to them what you did!'
I felt like I was back at school, sent to the Head Masters office.
'What office?' He climbed out of his booth, now the entire population of Italy and France are stacked up behind us, surely plotting to murder us painfully.
'Over there.' He points across the eight lanes of traffic to the middle of the highway, to a small building.
'Park there,' he pointed to a small fenced area.
Noel and I swung our heads from left to right, ‘office,’ ‘park bike,’ ‘lots of traffic in the middle!’
‘Well at least the bike will be safe while we take our lives in our hands crossing the road.’
'Perhaps this is the penance for making people wait and not taking a ticket, instead of lining us up against a wall and shooting us, they squish us under cars!'
The older gentlemen in the office smiled and pitied our lack of Italian, or pitied us as he was about to take the bike and house (or boat) as we hadn't paid.
He spotted our concerned faces.
'No problemo.' He said, creasing his cheeks further, he made the world wide known gesture of keeping calm and instantly put us at ease.
He spent - what felt like - several days reading our massive receipt, unrolling a bit at a time. He tapped away at his computer and nodded sagely, clearly we had been photographed
in the first ticket toll. We produced a map to show where we entered. Noel even produced the receipt of the hotel we stayed in the night before.
He made us sign a form (which could have said 'I gift you all my worldly goods!’). And off we went, back across the highway.
I am sure there is a joke there, why did the Aussies cross an 8 lane motorway...

We stopped soon after for more petrol. The prices having hiked up upon entering Italy. We were slow to learn that the excited petrol pump attendant was not pleased to see us as we are lovely people, he was happy to see us because they can charge 20 cents more per litre if he filled our tank!
As Noel gunned the engine on the exit, ready for the terrifying highway, we passed a parked car with a few kids hanging out the window.

'Arrivederci!' A clamorous shout from NoelThe kids retreated and looked terrified.
‘You scared those kids.' I laughed.
'I know!' Noel said, 'yeeehahhh!'

And off we went to do battle with Italian drivers…

Next: Stepping Through a Portal - Lunatics and Lunacy

Follow Along With All Of Jackie Parry's blog posts! http://www.noelandjackiesjourneys.com/

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

#ThrillerTuesday with an #interview of Italian Countess Dorothy from Dr. Dude by @JudithLucci #RPBP #mystery #crime #blogseries


The Case of Dr Dude: A Michaela McPherson Mystery is available in ebook and Paperback format on Amazon:

Please follow along as we get to know the characters of Dr. Dude! See Episode One!


Episode Two of Four
Meet Italian Countess Dorothy
+ Four Middle Names Borghase 

“Hello, good afternoon, Countess Borghase. It is so good to see you here once again. Town & Country magazine is always delighted to do a spot on you and your incredibly interesting life.”

Dottie stared across the mahogany conference table in the nicely appointed conference room of the local newspaper and looked at the Town & Country reporter. She looked to be about 18 years old and Dottie wondered how she could possibly know about her life. She gave the woman her tight Countess smile and said formerly, "I'm delighted to be here. I suppose you know your photographer did the photo shoot last week of me at the shooting range and with my horse?"

The young reporter bobbed her head and said, "Yes yes. They're great. I saw them yesterday. From the looks of that target, you're a really good shot. Have you been working with weapons all of your life?"

Dottie gave her a brighter smile and turned her intent blue eyes on the young woman who shrank a little from the intensity of Dottie’s stare. Dottie noticed and decided she kind of liked the interviewer. She thought she would give her a pretty good interview. "Yes I've been shooting all kinds of weapons all of my life. When I was a young girl I used to foxhunt outside of Rome. After I married the Count Borghese he introduced me to the family arsenal of weapons and I learned how to use all of them. The Count was an expert marksman. Then we became part of the French resistance during the war and weapons and their use became second nature for me. So, I've been shooting and hunting all of my life."

The young reporter looked at her big eyes and said, "Wow, you've had quite a life. It's been very exciting hasn't it?"

Memories flashed across Dottie's beautiful, but aging face. She turned her vivid blue eyes on the reporter as she shoved a hair pin into her immaculate silver up do. If there were two words to describe the Countess Borghese they were beautiful and determined. She was 82 years old now and she had stockpiled a lifetime of memories. "Yes, I’ve had an amazing life, no question. My best years were with the Count Borghase when we lived, mainly in Austria and abroad. We loved the arts. After his death, I came to the US and decided to live in Richmond in his family's estate home on Monument Avenue. I love, love, love it here. I love Richmond and its home now.

"You have lots of friends and are one of the biggest movers in Richmond's society."

Dottie hesitated. "Well, uh, yes, I suppose I am, but I spend most of my time helping others fighting for justice. I'm not really retired yet."

"Of course not. You are solving crimes with you friend, correct?”

Dottie knew Mic would skin her alive if she said that in a national magazine spread. “I'll solve crimes for anyone who needs my help. I'm pretty good armchair sleuth and I'm good at figuring things out. I love to keep my brain working"

The young woman smiled and said "Not only do you keep your brain working, you also keep your body working. I hear you’re a participant in the national senior games triathlon. You must spend a lot of time at the gym."

Dorothy laughed, a real deep-bellied laugh for the first time during the interview. The reporter couldn't get over how lovely the elderly woman was. She had beautiful white teeth and her hair was a luxurious silver/white. Her eyes sparkled a deep blue when she was truly happy. She emanated intelligence and competence with her every move. "Yes I spent a lot of time at the gym. I have most of my equipment in my own home and I'm disciplined about working out. Exercise is always been a huge part of my life, ever since I was a little girl."

Her interviewer nodded and said, "Yes, I read you were at Olympic swimmer. Didn't you win a gold medal sometime back?"

"I won a silver medal but it felt like gold. I was the first female Olympic swimmer to take a silver metal. It was a lot of hoopla back then."

"Well, Countess Borghase. This has been a wonderful time for me... to get to know you. Do you have other advice for others who are entering their later years?”

This question pissed Dottie off. Her smile faded. She hated to be compartmentalized into ‘later years’ or stereo-typed as one of the “older-olds.” She reverted to her haughty, frosty Countess smile and said, “My advice is for anyone of any age. I suggest daily exercise, a fresh diet of wholesome food and that you do something you love or be with someone you love every single day. Also that you be charitable and do for others. This has been my mantra my entire life and it works.” She gave the young interviewer a false smile and stood to leave. She was done.

The interviewer stood as well and offered her hand. “Thank you Countess. It has been lovely. This magazine spread is scheduled to appear in the early fall.”

Dottie nodded. “Thank you my dear,” she said as she walked towards the door.

“I’m… I’m… sorry if I upset you,” the young woman admitted in a hesitant voice.

Dottie turned and looked at the woman. “Oh, it’s OK dear, I just don’t like to be thought of as old. I may be old chronologically, but in my heart I’m your age, just like you…try to remember that. Our bodies may age, but our hearts and spirits don’t.” Dottie gave her a genuine smile as she left the conference room.

The reported stared after her and thought she’d just met the most amazing woman of her life. 


About The Book
A young woman disappears after a job interview at a well-known dentist’s office in Richmond, Virginia and retired homicide detective Michaela McPherson, along with her close friend, the aging Countess Dorothy Borghase, and Richmond police join forces to solve the crime. This case pits them against evil and greed armed with tentacles that span continents and generations.

About The Author

Judith Lucci writes what she knows.....Hospitals, Patients, Physicians and Health Care. She adds suspense and intrigue along with well developed plots, vivid descriptions and memorable characters, and produces medical thrillers that few readers can put down. 

Dr. Lucci is the author of the Alexandra Destephano Series, a series of medical thrillers that offer fans an escape into the busy world of a fictitious world-class hospital in New Orleans. The main characters are Alexandra Destephano, a nurse attorney who is legal counsel for Crescent City Medical Center(CCMC) and Jack Francoise, a dedicated, gnarly, unyielding NOPD Commander who covers the 8th Precinct and the French Quarter in New Orleans. Add dashing surgeon Robert Bonnet, Alex's ex-husband and her best friend and psychiatrist Monique Desmonde, and the cast is complete. Lucci's thrillers are a fast-paced, riveting medical thrillers that offer readers believable drama, and memorable characters and extraordinary thrilers that allow them to escape into the complex, often mysterious world of health care.

Virginia born Judith Lucci holds graduate and doctoral degrees from Virginia Commonwealth University and the University of Virginia. She is the author of numerous academic and health-related articles and documents. Her novels are based on her clinical experiences, very active imagination and experiences living in New Orleans and Virginia. When not teaching or writing, Judith is an avid silk painter and multi-media artist. She lives in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia with her family and six dogs.

Enjoy Another Excerpt
From Chapter Four
Dottie chewed on her soda bread. “For a new restaurant, Biddy McPherson’s is doing great. You had a good write up in the restaurant column last week and that restaurant critic can be a real pain.”
In truth, Dottie had been jealous when Mic had decided to open the bar in memory of her parents. She’d been waiting for Mic to retire for years, so they could solve crimes together. They’d been like Thelma and Louise in years past, and Dottie wanted more of it.
Mic laughed. “Yeah, how well I know. And yeah, I’m happy with the way things are goin’. I’d been saving all of my life to open the place and have been lucky we’ve we done so well. We’ve got a great manager in place, a fantastic cook who takes direction from me, a bunch of loyal customers, and we’re the ‘official home away from home’ for the Richmond police department.”
Dottie shook her head “The local watering hole for the RPD. Can’t ask for more than that, Michaela. Now that Biddy’s is up and running are you gonna do more of your private detective stuff,” she asked, hoping to hear a resounding yes.
Michaela munched her bread. She dipped her spoon into the succulent beef stew and sniffed the aroma before replying. “You know, I probably will. Kind of miss the excitement of police work. I just don’t want to have too much work to do to all of the time. After all, I am retired.” She smiled broadly.
Dottie hid her smile behind a piece of bread. That was just what she’d been hoping to hear. Thelma and Louise would ride again.
 “Umm, the stew needs more Guinness,” Mic said. “I think I cooked it down too much.” She pushed her chair back, walked to her refrigerator and reached for another bottle of the Irish stout.
Dottie’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe what she heard. “The stew is great. You have more energy than anyone I know. I think you can handle both. You were complaining last week about having too much free time.”
Dottie paused for a moment and glanced at Angel, Mic’s seventy-eight pound German Shepherd retired police dog as he limped into the kitchen to his bed by the fireplace. “Is he okay, Micaela? He’s limping pretty badly.” Dottie scratched Angel’s ears as he passed.
Michaela nodded as she rose from her chair. “Yeah, it’s his leg where he took the bullet, but I think his Lyme disease is acting up, too. Dogs are just like us. In this kind of weather, they need their medicine. I need to give him his anti-inflammatory. It’s so damp outside he’s probably hurting worse than usual.”
Dottie laughed. “Yes my bones are hurting today, too and I haven’t taken a bullet. It’s the damp weather.”
Mic moved towards the island, removed Angel’s Meloxicam from the dog drawer, and drew up the dosage for an eighty-pound dog. She set it on the counter as she reached for his heartburn medicine. She called softly to Angel as he struggled off his dog bed by the kitchen hearth.
“Come on, baby, this’ll make you feel so much better.” Mic said. She sat on the kitchen rug next to Angel, her faithful friend and protector. Angel dutifully took his medicine and was rewarded with a beef jerky treat. She sat on the floor with Angel and rubbed the dog’s ears as the dog struggled to hunker into his bed.
Dottie watched, mesmerized by the obvious attachment between the dog and her mistress. The love between the two was crystal-clear and the scene was poignant. Mic and Angel were inseparable, and truth to tell, Angel had saved Mic’s butt more than a few times.
Mic returned to the table and continued to eat until she heard Dottie’s phone vibrating again in the living room. Another text.
She stood. “I’m getting your phone because someone wants to talk to you badly.”
Dottie nodded, her mouth full of bread. She smiled as Angel’s tail thudded on the floor as his mistress passed.
A few seconds later, Mic returned with Dottie’s phone, her face serious. “It’s a second text from Margaret, plus she’s called three times. You need to pay more attention to your phone.”
Dottie took the phone from Mic and read it. “Oh no,” she wailed, “Allison never came home from her job interview at the dentist’s office. Margaret’s hysterical. Should we call the police?”

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