A cool, damp evening greeted me at the Calgary Airport as I boarded a Lockheed L-1011 jet en route to London's Heathrow Airport via a path that would take the aircraft over the Northwest Territories, Baffin Island, Greenland, Iceland, the Hebrides, Scotland and finally England for a noon arrival in the British capital. Because of flying so far north, the captain informed us that the sun would never set. To get some sleep, everyone pulled down the window shades in the cabin, creating ‘night', and soon many had dozed off. This was important to avoid jet lag when we arrived in London later on.

After nine hours flying time, touchdown was made at Heathrow's Terminal 3. An airport courtesy cab whisked tourists to their respective hotels in London's East end. I was taken to the Royal scot Hotel, not bad in itself, but not in a good neighborhood. Following check in, I started out on foot to explore some of the city before the evening's dinner and river cruise. With my camera bag and tourist appearance making me an obvious target in this less-than-desirable part of the city, I quickened my pace to catch up with a group of tourists a little ways ahead. Together we all bought tickets on the Underground (subway) to Leicester Square. I couldn't help but notice the great contrast between the noisy, crowded, confusing street system of London and the quiet, wide open spaces of Saskatchewan I had left behind only hours earlier. It would take some getting used to. By the time I had returned to the hotel, I had been to Trafalgar Square, the National Gallery and Picadilly Circus.

Dinner was served at an East End restaurant, Flanagan's, where many (including myself) ordered English-style fish and chips with trifles for dessert. The cruise on the Thames River gave an overview of the main historical parts of London and new waterfront developments. After such a long day, I was ready for a good night's sleep at 10:00 p.m. Back home the time was only 3:00 p.m.

In the morning all the thirty-nine tour participants met in the hotel lobby before boarding the coach heading northwest towards Liverpool. Traffic was heavy on the streets as we joined the M40 motorway. A light rain fell from heavy overcast skies when our first stop was made at Bladon, Sir Winston Churchill's burial place. It was typical of so many English towns we would pass through during the day: narrow streets going off in every direction from the main road, low stone or timber buildings grouped around a church and bell tower. Also typical were the roundabouts - traffic circles at almost every intersection along the highway. In no other way could four, five or six roads coming together at one point be accommodated except by using a traffic circle, the traditional square grid being ineffective. Rolling hills all very green and fields divided by hedgerows and low stone fences characterized the countryside.

A lunch stop at Stratford-Upon-Avon gave us a chance to see the Shakespearean heritage properties: birthplace, Ann Hathaway's cottage, burial place. Pleasure boats on the locks and canals of the Avon River made excellent photos. However, in the process of getting to them, I had forgotten the sequence of twists and turns around the narrow streets to get back to the coach parking lot, itself hidden behind some buildings that all looked the same. Street signs in the rural towns are not mounted on poles out inn plain view, but tacked onto the sides of buildings. This made retracing the route much more difficult. I ended up asking some locals the way back. I would have to take better note of any landmarks int he future.

Before reaching Liverpool we stopped at Chester and explored that city on foot. The remnants of the old Roman part of the town (bridge and walls), the medieval part (dimly-lit cathedral) and the early modern part (rowhouses from the Industrial Revolution), all crowded and cramped together near the river, formed interesting contrasts. From Chester a long tunnel under the Mersey River brought us into Liverpool, home of the great ocean liners and birthplace of the Beatles.

Six, seven, eight: easy to remember times for morning wake-up, breakfast, and in-the-bus-ready-to- roll would be used for the rest of the British tour. Today we drove into the Lake District, a scenic area of national parks, rolling hills and small towns tucked into the valleys. Our only stop was at Grasmere. Here, English poet William Wordsworth lived and is buried.

Crossing the border into Scotland at Gretna, we continued north to a lunch stop at the town of Moffat where many of us took advantage of souvenir purchases in the large gift shop and factory outlet for the woolen mill. On the motorway we drove right through Glasgow, Scotland's largest city with a population of one million people. Along the banks of the Clyde River we saw the once-mighty shipbuilding yards now almost deserted. Not so many decades ago the Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth had slipped from the stocks into the river and out towards the sea. Our hotel this evening would be directly on the North Atlantic coast at Oban. The brooding sky silhouetting the distant cathedral and outer islands made fascinating viewing just as the sun set.

Heading north into the Highlands, spectacular scenery could be seen round every bend in the road, and here were plenty of these! At Glencoe Valley a pastoral scene of sheep grazing on the hillside, backpackers on the river bank and a swift-rushing stream made an interesting picture. Glencoe was also the site of one of the many battles between the Scottish clans as they fought for control and the dispensing of justice. Near Fort William the bus developed mechanical trouble, so we put into the small town of Spean where the problem was fixed. These kinds of minor delays proved invaluable for picking up a snack and writing postcards.

Turning west along the ‘Road to the Isles', the trip ended at the ferry terminal to the Isle of Skye where Bonny Prince Charlie escaped after the ill-fated 1746 Jacobean uprising against the English domination of Scotland. Bilingual signs in Gaelic and English were seen all over this island and in many places in the western Highlands. Gaelic, a Celtic language akin to Welsh and Irish is still spoken and taught in the schools here. This inscription welcomed visitors to Skye: Fialte do'n eilean schayandonach (Welcome to the Isle of Skye).

Sheep are everywhere in the Highlands grazing in open range all along the roads. I saw a shepherd with the old crooked staff and watchdog driving a flock along a fence to another pasture.

At Loch Ness, just a short glimpse of the lake famous for its monster was seen. Not even a walk down to Urquhart Castle ruins from where most of the sightings have taken place was allowed int he short time remaining. A piper dressed in full traditional Scottish regalia played for the tourists viewing the loch, but an open collection box in front of him added a commercial feeling to this otherwise very typical Highland scene. Because of the time factor, the planned tour of the Inverness woolen mill was cancelled as we hurried arrive at our hotel in Aviemore, a winter ski resort int he Grampian Mountains.

Our first stop was at the Glenfarclas Distillery in Speyside. As a local guide promised each tour member a ‘wee dram' (½ oz.) Of the family-owned company's product, we were shown every step int he making of fine Scotch single-malt whisky: the mash tanks, the big copper distillation kettles, the oak-barrelled aging rooms. Only a fleeting glimpse of Balmoral Castle, the royal family's Scottish retreat, was seen through the trees, but a longer stay was taken at Braemar for lunch. After eating I walked a short distance out of town to have a closer look at the Scottish baronial estate home of Braemar Castle. I made it back to the bus just before rain started falling, as it had throughout the morning.

It seems that all Scotland's people live along the winding roads, for even in ‘remote' areas, there are always cars and trucks trying to negotiate the narrow highways. Just how old some of the parts of the road system are became apparent when a steep crowned bridge crossing a stream came into view. Everyone was asked to get out of the bus and walk across in order to lighten the load, as the coach would have surely gotten stuck on the high peak. It very nearly did as it was, and that while just inching forward over the hump!

At Perth we followed the M8 motorway across the estuary of the Forth River in view of the great Firth of Forth cantilever railway bridge, arriving in the Edinburgh area in early evening.

A full day in the Scottish capital began with a tour of Edinburgh Castle and Holyroodhouse Palace. Local guides brought to life such historical figures as Mary Queen of Scots, John Know, Robert Burns and Robert Louis Stevenson. The wind was cold and the temperature chilly on top of the castle summit. I paused to put on a sweater. Excellent views of the city from the wall tops and close up views of Scotland's crown jewels were seen inside the tower strong room. Had this tour been taken only one week earlier, all of these historic sites would have been closed to the public, as the Queen resides in the palace on a state visit for two weeks every year in late June/ early July. In Holyroodhouse itself, massive four-poster, canopied beds behind glass were the originals that had been sued by some of the most famous Scottish rulers of the past.

A free afternoon (no scheduled tours) was spent touring around and shopping along Queen Street adjacent to the Royal Mile. Dense crowds of pedestrians and heavy traffic of double-decker buses, taxis and cars reminded me of London. A taste of home came in the form of the Waverley Plaza, a North American-style three-level shopping mall, mostly underground, near the intersection of two major streets.

The evening was reserved for a special dinner-theater show at the George Hotel. A delicious four- course meal was served by waiters and waitresses each carrying one food item of the menu on large serving trays and dishing each guest a portion while everyone sat looking on. This was certainly a different way than the pre-measured portions or self-serve used in North American restaurants. The meal was follows by an entertaining tow hours of Scottish dances, piper and drums, songs, ceremonies of the Haggis and crowning the clan chieftain, and stand-up comedy from the master of ceremonies Larry Marshall. A great way to end our last evening of the tour.

A stop at Sir Walter Scott's home ‘Abbotsford House' began the day's touring before crossing the border back into England on the east coast.

England's East Coast A remnant of Hadrian's Wall, built by Roman Emperor Hadrian to hold back Scottish invaders was seen. Ont he M1 motorway south to Newcastle, we stopped for lunch in York, England's best- preserved medieval town. Only pedestrian traffic is allowed in the historic core, sot he bus parked at a downtown hotel and everyone walked in. First stop was the Shambles, a street so narrow you can touch the buildings on each side just one story up. Not far distant was the great church of York Minster, seat of the archbishop of York, one of the church of England's two primates. I found this building to be the brightest and most impressive, as well as the largest of all the Gothic churches I would see on the entire trip. The organ was playing and the cathedral choir was rehearsing, sot he real atmosphere of a great medieval church was felt for the first time. Unfortunately, our time in York was very limited. The bus driver wanted to avoid the huge crowds at the city racetrack that would soon be plugging the roads on their return home. Arrival in Leeds, a city only thirty miles away, was therefore the earliest of any day so far, giving plenty of time to prepare for dinner.

The morning's rest stop was at Stamford, a picturesque town on the way south to London. Only forty-five minutes was allowed here, but more time was given to explore Cambridge, England's second university town on the river Cam. There, students poled flat-bottomed boats called ‘punts', giving rides to the locals and tourists up and down the river. King's College was the main attraction, as were the narrow side streets frequented by students during the busy months when school is in session. Small pub-cafes provide spots for a quick lunch. In another couple of hours, the full circuit from London to London would be competed. It was back to the Royal scot Hotel planning out an afternoon of excursions to more of London's famous sites.

From the Embankment underground station, I visited the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey and walked along St.James' Park beside the Mall to Buckingham Palace. The plaza outside the front entrance was colorfully decorated with flags and bunting put up for the London Economic Summit. Worldwide television networks' broadcast vans ringed the enclosure behind the trees. Another subway ride brought me to the Tower Bridge and a walk to the battleship HMS Belfast docked in the river nearby. Light was fading over the city signaling the approaching evening. The British tour had come to a full and successful close. Next morning I would start the continental portion with a ferry trip to Ostend, Belgium.

Unlike the British tour where everyone met in the hotel lobby, the Continental tour left from the "travelers Check-in", a sort of tour company exchange location at a hotel some distance from the Royal Scot. Luggage was transferred to a red London bus for the trip to the port of Dover. The southeast county of Kent is mostly flat land well suited for farming, mixed with small patches of forest. This abruptly ends at the famous "White Cliffs of Dover", where the underground chalk formations are clearly visible from the waterfront. A large ferry of Belgian registry was waiting our arrival, and everyone was hurried through passport control so that the voyage could begin. It would take four hours to get to the port of Ostend, about seventy miles from Brussels.

The actual crossing was rough. Few people tried to walk around either inside the ship or out on deck until the French coast had been reached and the ship had turned sharp left to follow the land eastward past Calais and Dunkirk. By the time the harbor of Ostend had been reached, the sky had cleared for a good view of this premier Belgian seaport-resort on the North Sea.

Belgium At the dock the disembarking passengers identified their luggage that had arrived on large web trolleys and transferred to the appropriate tour coach. For the first time all were together in one place and had exchanged greetings with our guide, a young Scotswoman and our driver, Antonio, from the Naples area of Italy. The weather was quite warm, so the air conditioned bus felt good.

Speeding south on the main Belgian freeway towards Brussels, we noticed the table-top flatness of the land. Small farms close together, often separated by canals, ran on both sides of the divided highway, three lanes each direction and lit by street lamps all along the route from the coast.

Because of arrival in Brussels well after the dinner hour, everyone ordered ‘a la carte' off the hotel restaurant's menu. To ourselves arriving from England, we had put our watches ahead when we disembarked from the ferry, as the Continent is one hour ahead of British Summer Time, or eight hours ahead of time back home in Saskatchewan. On the way we had come halfway across Belgium in a little more than an hour, yet had passed road signs for such famous places as Antwerp, Ghent and Bruges. As the city tour of Brussels would begin early, we were advised to get to bed as soon as possible after dinner.

Heavy overcast skies, rain and very cool temperatures greeted us in the morning. As with most of the city tours throughout Europe, the commentary was given by a local guide from the place being visited, not by the regular tour director. In this case, an older man who spoke five languages took us around to the Atomium, the palace of King Beaudoin, the EEC building and the European Parliament headquarters. The dark atmospheric conditions made the city buildings look older and dirtier than they might have looked in bright sunlight. Still, we had time to stop at a lace-making factory and gift shop outlet to buy a few souvenirs of the country before departing for the Dutch border.

A constant nuisance throughout Europe is the need to exchange currency. Crossing a country like Belgium that could fit into one small corner of Saskatchewan, it seemed absurd to need an entirely different set of coins and bank notes to enter the next territory. But, combined with a lunch break, everyone converted a few travelers' checks and their remaining Belgian francs to Dutch guilders.

Holland We had gotten only a few miles into the country when the bus driver stopped at Breda to get a punctured tire fixed. Fortunately, this allowed a closer look at this typical Dutch rural settlement where it seems almost everyone rides bicycles. I expected to see lots of windmills, but in reality only a few remained close enough to the freeway to be photographed. Most of the water is pumped by electric pumps nowadays. We saw a troop of soldiers on a march through the street as part of their training and fitness. In almost every European country military service is compulsory for men aged 18 for a period of two years after which regular up-dating is required. It was so late by the time the bus left the shop that we went directly to our modern hotel in Lisse outside of Amsterdam. As with everything in Holland, this hotel was spotlessly clean and neat, and the food served efficiently and right on time. I especially enjoyed this night's accommodation, as it was the best of the entire tour, British and Continental, so far.

After a twenty minute trip into Amsterdam, we went directly to the Van Moppes diamond factory. There seemed to be such a rush to get everyone into the showroom hoping for a sale that the really interesting part - watching the workers cut, grind, polish and set the diamonds - was passed over without sufficient time spent. No one bought any of the expensive jewelry anyway. I spent the time wandering through a large outdoor market set up on a closed-off street a block away. The bus left for the Rijksmuseum where the main gallery displays paintings by the Dutch classical masters Rembrandt, Vermeer, and Van Hals as well as early modern ones like Van Gogh. But the best views of Amsterdam were from the canal-level on a glass-walled tour boat that wound its way past elegant homes and impressive public buildings in the historic core.

Lunch today was grab-and-run, as purchasing a few souvenirs was all the time we had before the bus left for Germany. As with Belgium, the absolutely flat landof Holand, much of it reclaimed from the North Sea, provides excellent soil for farming and dairying. Our dinner last night featured a serving of Edam cheese produced nearby.

Germany All traffic stopped at the German border and exchanged guilders and dollars for marks. Only one stop was made as we sped on the autobahn past famous place names like Dusseldorf, Essen and Bonn en route to Koln (Cologne). Here, we made a short visit to the great Gothic cathedral, the only major building in this city spared the intense Allied bombing during WWII. Most of the country along the autobahns is as modern as anything in North America, and the people drive a great deal faster. Only trucks and buses have speed limits. Cars can go as fast as they want on the divided highways. The night's hotel was in the town of Andernach in the Rhineland where a traditional German dinner of bratworst sausage, sauerkraut and ale was served.

Instead of starting out the day with a long bus trip, a three hour boat ride down the Rhine past the Lorelei Rock at Koblenz was a well-received treat. Our cruise ship was the most modern one available, launched only that month, with plenty of deck space for picture-taking. The launch kept up a fairly good pace in mid-stream while the guide pointed out the many small riverbank towns on both sides of the Rhine. A number of castles were built in medieval times to protect various bends in the river, just as vineyards were planted on the steep, terraced hillsides to take advantage of the mild climate. River traffic was busy: barges, tour boats and pleasure craft passed on both sides all the way along the route. At Oberwesel we docked and returned to our bus.

Liechtenstein This tiny principality uses the same currency as Switzerland, but prints its own stamps. The buildings are very well maintained, but the usual European crowding is evident here as elsewhere.

Austria At the Austrian border Swiss francs were exchanged for schillings, but no lunch stop here. That would come later at an autobahnenstationne (freeway rest stop) just outside Innsbruck. We've found that the cafeteria-style of these busy freeway service centers works the best for such a diverse group of tourists. Everyone can pick the kind of food and quantity of it that they want and can afford.

The Arlberg Tunnel, 13.8 lm long (8½ miles) was built to take traffic under rather than over the mountain pass of the same name, particularly as the Winter Olympics that made Innsbruck world-famous. The first place we went on the city tour was up the mountain to the ski jump amphitheater where the two Olympic torches still stand on a platform overlooking the city far below. A spectacular panorama of the city and surrounding valley of the Inn River was seen from this point. A brief tour of the city center included a Rococo-era church and the palace of the Hapsburg emperors. We were pressed to return to the bus, as it was a ways to our hotel.

‘Up' was the right word to describe the trip to Reith high in the Tyrol Mountains south of the city. The half hour of hairpin turns, steep 16% grades and stalled traffic at which one point the bus started to roll backwards down hill was enough for most. Accommodation was in the chalet-style Edelweisshoff. During dinner a thunderstorm passed through, but cleared off enough for the walk back to our rooms. Many continental hotels use duvets for bed covering, not the traditional sheets and blankets. It makes for a warm sleep, but a cold morning rising, as the heat was not turned on even in these high mountain hotels.

At the Italian border, a guard entered and examined each traveler's passport, the first time this had been done on the entire trip. Some time was allowed to exchange money into Italian lira. We needed a lot more of this currency than the others, as much more time would be spent in Italy. Bank notes are issued in Multiple thousands of lira, as one Canadian dollar equals 1,100 lira.

The area of the south Tyrol, after coming through the Brenner Pass, retain much of its German appearance and obvious German loyalties, still strong in the seventy years since annexation by Italy at the end of WWI. But gradually the change to complete Italian was noticed as we approached the ski resort town of Cortina D'Ampezzo, another Winter Olympics location. It was here that we had our lunch break and started getting used to all prices being in four digits (lunch cost L1,100, about $6.30). The mountain road south of Cortina until the coastal plain along the Adriatic is reached passes through steep, rugged country. We saw the autostrada link being constructed through this area: mile after mile of monumental bridges, cliffside ledges for the four-land highway, whole sections of elevated road that will probably take years to finish. Before reaching the mainland west of Mestre on the Venetian lagoon, we passed by the area my father came from - Cogneliano Veneto. I took a few photos of the countryside as well as the ripening grapes and crops surrounding our hotel.

Tonight would feature another evening excursion, so following the meal we boarded the bus for the trip to Trochetto, the parking island of Venice. A water bus was waiting at the dock, and as the sun set we cruised around the main island and up the Grand Canal, docking in front of the Piazza San Marco. We stopped to hear traditional Italian songs and sample the local spumante wine at the ‘Grotto' nightclub just behind the piazza (town square). As everyone returned to the boat dock for the return trip, we passed gondoliers plying the calm waters of the inner canals, singing to their passengers as the full moonlight lit up the Renaissance buildings. We all thought of the next full day's touring in this famous city.

Traffic was the lightest ever as we returned to the parking island by way of the causeway built over to it during the 1930s. The hot sun hadn't yet come out, so the trip up the Grand Canal, under the Rialto Bridge and in front of the Piazza was pleasant. So was the tour of the great square, the basilica and the Doge's Palace that followed. This latter building was the home of the Doge, or elected Venetian ruler int eh days of the republic. A local Italian guide supplied commentary, but left the group when we all went into a glass factory and watched a demonstration of how fine stemware is created from the molten glass. As usual, the chance to purchase a piece was given in the ground floor showroom. The rest of the day was free time, so I made good use of it starting with a bird's-eye view of the city of Venice.

For L3,000 ($2.70) and a fifteen minute wait I went by elevator to the top of the campanile (bell tower) located beside the basilica. In Italy the bell tower is always built separate from the church itself. Panoramic views could be seen in all direction, from out towards the sea to the many smaller islands dotting the lagoon, each with a specific use (for example, a hospital island, a garbage island, a prison island. Venice itself is mainly for the tourists.). Back in the piazza, a closer look at the arcades and waterfront of the square plus souvenir-buying was enough to fill the time before lunch that I had at a small trattoria (café) on a side street behind the church. Although the food was good, the high cost of cover charge, service charge and beverage pushed the price up to double the original price printed on the menu!

The afternoon was spent island-hopping using the water buses that ply the lagoon. It was a relief just to get out onto the water away from the oppressive heat and crush of tourists around San Marco. The island of Murano was a pleasant diversion, far less crowded and expensive. Being more residential and devoted to small glassworks factories, it was much quieter than Venice. I returned to the piazza to rejoin the main group that had gathered in front of the bell tower before the trip back to the hotel. As no activities were scheduled for the evening we had free time to relax until bedtime.

Because of the long drive to Rome, the day began even earlier than usual. For the first two and a half hours we drove south along the Adriatic coast, stopping for a snack at Ravenna and touring the Byzantine-style basilica. When we got out of the air-conditioned bus, the furnace-like heat outside attacked us so quickly that most fled either into the cool, dark church or into the snack shop located adjacent to the parking lot.

By noon we had ascended a mountain to the tiny republic of San Marino. Rather than go right to the top where the castle is found, we stopped on the main street of souvenir shops and eating palaces. Those who stayed the whole time near the parked bus might have been more rested when they returned to the tour but missed the great views from the summit courtyard, gotten only after a steep walk in the midday heat.

It took the rest of the day to cross the Apennine Mountains that form the backbone of the Italian peninsula and make our way south towards the capital city of Rome. The tourist season in Europe was just getting started (August is the main month for universal travel on the Continent), so increasing numbers of family sedans and recreational vehicles were seen on the autostrada. Freeway rest stops are frequently built over the highway itself, much like those on the toll roads of the eastern United States. The word "freeway" isn't a good term to use for these divided, controlled access highways, as they aren't free - toll plazas located all along the route make sure road users pay the fee for every mile driven.

Our hotel for the next three nights was without doubt the poorest of them all. The rooms were small, cramped and closed-up behind heavy window shutters to keep out the heat (no screens on the windows). The ‘air conditioner' was so old and used that the hot breeze was preferable. Good for washing clothes, as most of the hotels do not have coin laundry facilities and only the better ones provide laundry service. Soon the room was ful of clothing items drying in the Roman sun. An outdoor pool and lounge gave some consolation for the poor quality of sleep we would be getting in the upcoming nights - the hotel was also located right on the ring road around Rome!

Arriving early at the walls of the Vatican, we were first admitted to the main galleries of the Vatican museums. Our guide for the day was another local man with great enthusiasm for the ancient sites and art treasures of his city. Through the gallery of Greek and Roman statues, the tapestry gallery, the map gallery, the Sistine Chapel and the rare book gallery, we made our way towards the exit. From there a short walk over to the immense square in front of St. Peter's Basilica enclosed in double colonnades designed by Bernini. Swiss guards in colorful Renaissance costumes stood ceremonially beside the entrance to the papal compounds. Inside this largest church int eh world, the cavernous interior was highlighted by the works of the best sculptors and painters of the day, such as the ‘Peita' by Michelangelo and the bronze canopy over the high altar by Bernini. Only an hour earlier the Pope had conducted his weekly general audience; a few from the tour had caught a glimpse of him in the basilica.

In the afternoon the bus traveled to a drop-off point near the Forum, the center of Imperial Rome. A walking tour was conducted for those who didn't mind the heat. A few elderly people remained on the bus to avoid the crowds, the temperature and the exertion of touring on foot. The Arch of Trajan, the Senate House and other major ruins were seen. Down the street was the famous Coliseum and Arch of Constantine. No one was allowed inside the Coliseum, so a walk around it gave us a chance to look through the arches into the seating area.

Back at the hotel, we freshened up before returning to the city center and another walking tour of the fountains of Rome. By this time evening was coming, and slightly cooler temperatures brought relief after the heat wave of the day. Some famous waterworks were seen at Piazza Navona, Piazza del Populo and the Trevi Fountain. When it go too dark to see, we walked to a restaurant where reservations for a formal five-course meal had been made earlier. It included an appetizer, antipasto, pasta, entree and dessert, along with wine (½ liter per person allowed). Roving musicians sang and played Italian folk songs to add enjoyment to the event. One would think everyone would be stuffed after such a meal, but being spread out over tow hours and with the portions not too large, no one felt over-full. Still, we were all tired when we got back to the hotel past midnight.

An unusual tour this morning began as we traveled along parts of the old city walls, then turned down the Appian Way, an extremely narrow one-way street that used to be one of the main entrances to the imperial city. At the underground church of St. Domitilla, we were taken into the dark tunnels of the catacombs, the burial places of the early Christians. Only a portion of the eighteen miles of tunnels were shown to our group, but enough to get the idea of how and why these people went to such lengths to practice their faith outside the grasp of official persecution.

Back in Rome, three churches from the early Christian era were visited: the Lateran church (the Pope's official pastoral charge), la Scala (the Holy Stairs) and St. John Maggiore with its ornate Borghese Chapel. Until lunch a walk along the Tiber River embankment gave good views of Hadrian's Tomb, the mausoleum of the Roman emperor located across from the Vatican. Before travel to Tivoli for the next excursion, a few hours of rest at the hotel was allowed for everyone Then back on the bus for the trip to the estate and water park of the Este family, once one of the wealthiest of the patrician families of Rome who lived during the 17th century.

Tivoli is up in the hills surrounding Rome where the rich built villas. This particular one is large, but not restored at all, so a quick passing-through leads to the gardens' entrance. Built in a series of three terraces cut into the hillside connected by sets of steep ramps and stairs, a tour of this place requires good walking shoes and enough time to prevent running from place to place. The main attraction is a man-made waterfall and water jets powered from a gravity-fed reservoir on the hilltop. Kept in a maintained but not restored state, the gardens must have been really something to see when new and in their time, a real novelty.

Dinner was served in a restaurant at the bottom of the hill where the estate was located. Once again, a five-course meal was provided, slightly changed from last night: drink, appetizer, pasta, entree and dessert. A four-piece folk music band gave live entertainment to the diners. As this was an outdoor restaurant located on a covered patio, the cool breezes of the night gave welcome relief after the day's heat. By 11:00 p.m. everyone was back at the hotel.

A sleepy crowd of tour members dragged into the bus heading north to Firenze (Florence). The tour director saved her comments on this birthplace of the Renaissance to right before arrival, when most of the people were more awake and alert. The rolling hills of Tuscany with their vineyards and olive groves, plus the bright sun of the Mediterranean was enough to lull the people to sleep. In Florence are some of the best schools for study of the language, as here the purest Italian, free of regional dialect, is spoken.

Upon arrival int eh city, the bus went to a panoramic overlook location and everyone had a group photo taken with the Florentine skyline in the background. No tour buses could park close to the historic downtown core, so another long walk to the day's meeting point - the church of Santa Croce, burial place of many famous Italians like Dante, Galileo and Michelangelo - was taken. A tour and now-familiar sales pitch in the showrooms of the Peruzzi leather factory included a demonstration on how gold leaf is applied to carved leather panels. The rest of the day I planned an itinerary that would take in most of the famous sites of the city within walking distance.

First stop was the great cathedral and dome designed by Brunelleschi. For a fee of L4,000 ($3.60), the energetic had the privilege of climbing the 463 steps to the cupola of the dome for panoramic views of the city. I decided to go up. For the first 200 or so stairs it was easy, but once the dome itself was reached the stairs narrowed to tiny, claustrophobic tunnels that climbed up the gradual slope of the hollow core right to the top, wide enough for only one person to go up or down. At the end a small ladder led out onto the viewing deck. The bright tiled rooftops of the buildings and the green Tuscan hills made the trip worthwhile.

After lunch I wandered down to the Ponte Vecchio, the old bridge over the Arno River where jewelry merchants have their shops. But the sky was fast gathering in heavy dark clouds, and just in time before a torrential downpour I reached the Ufizzi Gallery, storehouse of many famous art treasures from the Renaissance period. Internal security was tight in every room, but the large collection in a former palace was interesting. The rain had caused the temperature to drop 20º F., making the rest of the day much more pleasant. Near the dinner hour, everyone gathered at the meeting lace and traveled back tot he hotel where the evening meal was served right in the building. Fortunately the hotel in Florence was a total opposite from the one in Rome: modern, new, large rooms with cable TV and fridge, indoor pool, air-conditioned. A much more refreshed group would wake up the next morning.

Heading north early in the morning, our first stop was at Pisa where we went directly to the famous Leaning Tower, part of the religious complex that includes the Cathedral and Baptistry. As the lean is so severe (15 meters or 50 feet off perpendicular), it is unsafe to go up, so only photos were taken.

Traveling around the curve of the coastline following the Mediterranean, the highway is quite a feat of engineering: an endless series of tunnels and connecting bridges designed to keep the road as straight and level as possible along the deeply indented coast. On the west side of Genoa we stopped for lunch before reaching the French border.

Outside the town of Eze not far from the principality of Monaco, we stopped for a tour of the perfume factory of Fragonard. Each step in the production was discussed, then time to browse through the gift shop to purchase fragrances at factory prices. It is amazing how little this luxury item costs at the factory before the brand name is applied which boosts the cost to double or triple the original amount.

The hotel for the next two nights was in downtown Nice, on the main street to the beach. Constant traffic roar disrupted sleep, but access tot he rail station and shops was excellent. Dinner this evening was in Eze after which everyone boarded the bus for Monaco and watched the International Competition in Fireworks show at the harbor. A few tried their hand at the slots and gaming tables int eh casino, but no one won any mentionable amount. Great night views of the French Riviera were seen on the way back to Nice.

No planned activities were scheduled this day, so everyone made a personal itinerary. I decided to take the train back to Monaco as I had been impressed with its cleanliness and well-maintained elegance. After a twenty minute ride I arrived in Monte Carlo and went directly to the palace of Prince Rainier where the changing of the guard ceremony was taking place. A walking tour of the harbor and casino area completed the morning and I returned to Nice on the train. A bright sun made excellent photos of the big yachts and flashy sports cars and limousines seen throughout the area.

The afternoon was spent strolling along the Promenades des Anglais in front of the beach, which was packed with bathers. The Riviera beaches are not sand, but made up of small rounded stones or pebbles. A beach towel is essential to allow for sunbathing in any degree of comfort. Out over the water some people were seen parasailing, being towed into the air on a parachute behind a speed boat. A walk through the open market area and the art gallery and convention center completed the day. Dinner was eaten in the area of outdoor restaurants near the market square with pop music entertainment supplied live by an English-speaking singer. Sunset over the Mediterranean waters came gradually in the deepening twilight.

Traffic was heavy as we got on the Autoroute du Soleil (Highway of the Sun) along the Riviera westbound towards the Rhône River valley. A turn northwest brought us to Arles, where we stopped to view the largest Roman amphitheater still in continued use in France. Although the exterior was ancient, new seats made the interior look almost modern. After a lunch stop, we continued on the way and arrived at Avignon where we could walk onto the famous bridge (for a fee), or look at it from the heights of a city wall tower some distance away. As this city had been the home of the popes for several hundred years in the Middle Ages, we looked at the papal palace and chapel as well. The weather continued hot and cloudless, so only a minimal amount of time was spent on walking tours.

By dinner time the city of Lyon had been reached, where our hotel was located. No evening activities to rush off to was planned, so many made use of the time to relax and have a little earlier bedtime.

A rigid schedule was maintained today as we sped north towards Paris. Our first stop in the Burgundy region was at the town of Beaune where we saw elaborately-patterned tiled roofs of the Hotel Dieu, and a visit to a wine merchant's shop. By the time we had reached the region surrounding Paris the weather had deteriorated greatly with heavy clouds and rain, not unusual for northern France at this time of year. Still, the upcoming boat trip down the Seine River would not be as pleasant or as rewarding photographically.

Traffic was heavy into the city, but we managed to arrive on time at the bateaux mouches dock. The trip itself went around the central islands in the river with views of Notre Dame Cathedral, the Eiffel Tower and a small replica of the Statue of Liberty. Just in time: upon completion of the tour and return to the bus the rain came down in torrents, making the only thing possible to do was to stay in the hotel for the rest of the evening. Fortunately it was a new, modern building on the northwest portion of the ring road, tall enough to get above the traffic noise down below. Next day would be a full day in the French capital.

The weather continued cloudy and rainy into the morning. Short let-ups in the drizzle allowed us to walk over to Notre Dame Cathedral and tour the vast interior of France's premier church. Next stop was the Eiffel Tower where we were taken to the first viewing platform, the location of all the gift shops and restaurants. Noticeable was the amount of restoration work done on the tower a few years ago, how clean and neat everything was. Heavy clouds prevented ascent to the top, so we came back down and drove around Place de la Concorde and the confusing jumble of traffic around the Arc de Triomphe. Lunch was taken at the Moulin Rouge with shopping at Galeries Lafayette, the city's biggest department store.

In the afternoon a twelve mile trip southwest of the city put us in the town of Versailles where we went directly to the palace and gardens of the Sun King, Louis XIV. This greatest of all the world's palaces is truly huge and sprawling: fountains, geometric gardens, an artificial lake and the state apartments tour took the rest of the afternoon. Upon return to the city a short time was spent in free roaming: Place Vendôme, the Tuileries gardens beside the Louvre, and the Opera House. Making it back to the hotel via the Paris metro system (subway), I boarded the bus for the farewell dinner in Montmartre.

On the summit of this hill the white basilica of Sacré Coeur shone in the light which faded into evening as we toured the artists' quarter, the Place du Tertre. The formal four-course meal that followed was eaten at a panoramic restaurant that overlooked the city from the hilltop - a really beautiful sight. A drive through Pigalle, the city's nightlife area at the foot of Montmartre, concluded the day.

In order to be aboard the ferry in time for the Channel crossing back to England, we started earlier than ever. Heading northeast across Picardie and Flanders, the familiar flat coastal plain scenes rolled pass the bus. By the time we reached the port of Dunkirk, the weather had cleared. We anticipated a smooth crossing under clear skies. The trip lasted two and a half hours, time for lunch in the cafeteria and shopping in the duty-free store on deck ‘B'. By late afternoon we reached the port of Ramsgate on the tip of Kent county. After passport control, we claimed our luggage and transferred it to the bus heading for our particular hotel in London. The drive northwest to London past Canterbury took a shorter time than expected which allowed for a more leisurely check-in at the Royal Scot Hotel and dinner in the evening. By now all my European currencies, except for a sample saved from each country, had been used up or converted to British pounds for the next day.

Departure Because of booking with Air Canada, a courtesy transfer was provided at the arrival and departure to Heathrow airport from the hotel. I said final goodbyes to the people from the tour that had stayed at the Royal Scot and got onto the shuttle bus that dropped me off at Terminal 3. Luggage checks, security checks, passport checks and waiting passed the time before boarding a Boeing 747 for the transatlantic flight to Canada.

Lunch was served in the air somewhere over mid-Atlantic after which an in-flight video was shown on the cabin screen. Touchdown at Montreal's Mirabel Airport was only for those passengers disembarking there. The rest remained on board and went through customs in Toronto. I changed planes in Toronto for Regina and arrived in Saskatchewan only a few hours after I took off from London, that is, according to the numbers on the clock, but not taking into account the seven hours roll-back in time when flying west. It was a good rest I had that night as I looked back over a very busy and successful trip to Europe.