My new book “Midlife Solo” is now available.

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My book on!

The internet is so bad in the hotel that it cannot download Amazon. I’ve been anxious to know if my book is there yet, but no way to tell from my machine. After dinner, I asked Bruce if we could look on his iPad, which he got rebooted today in a store.

AND THERE IT IS: my book is on I guess on also. My very own little book. It’s $24 which is a lot for a paperback, I thought it was going to be $21.99. However. Perhaps it will be worth the cost to some. All my loving, coming of age with Paul McCartney in Paris.

By my humble self. Please someone, review it for Amazon. Make my day. (Or not.)

Yesterday during our pizza dinner, I noticed that the women at the table next to us had the “Guide Routard” for southern Italy, and I asked if I could borrow it for a few minutes. It’s just the best guide to reasonable places to stay and eat. Unfortunately, we are stuck with this hotel, but I did write down the name of restaurants nearby. It was cold and rainy tonight, but Bruce and I had the address from the “Guide Routard” of a place just around the corner. It was wonderful – few tourists, mostly Italians, nearly empty at 8, very full at 9, stacks of fresh fish, people eating plates of soft white mozzarella bufala, the owner bringing out a fish to show the patrons before taking it back for cooking. Friendly, unpretentious, good.

And he and I talked about how amazing it is that two old crabby people have travelled together for an intense period with almost no fireworks. We have had to discuss why I use the word “we” when in fact I mean “I.” This has been interesting for me to know. But otherwise, we get along very well and have a great deal in common. All this week, people have assumed we are a married couple, which has been fun when they learn that he lives in Vancouver and I in Toronto. You can see them trying to figure out these strange Canadians. But it has been a pleasure.

Tonight less so, as the hotel has suddenly filled up with teenagers, and there’s a very noisy group in the room above mine – shrieking, banging, howling. Last night, exceptionally peaceful – tonight, exceptionally not so, and lousy internet to boot.

But – tomorrow Pompeii, and it’s my last night here.



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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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