Is This the Beginning or the End?

Think of the helpers ladies....(these firemen are French, but close enough)

We left Milan with many heavy bags and it was hot and crowded at the train station, but I could not have been happier. I was gayly skipping around looking for Italian sandwiches and sneaking coffees behind Thomas' back. Because once you are on a European train, and that train happens to be going to Zurich, you have reached the height of civilization. Bad things don't happen anymore; luggage is not lost, people are not loud, coffee is poured. Beside the Queen Mary, it is when I am happiest moving through space. In Zurich we stayed at my favorite, the Baur au Lac and ACB and MFB joined, and the sun was out and we swam in the lake and just marveled at how clean and perfect it all was. I think I saw a homeless person, but after quite a lot of discussion, we decided he was just drunk and littering (probably by accident; even drunk the Swiss don't litter). It was delightful. In fact, Zurich now has a few areas that border on actual cool and Frederick was so dazzled he is definitely looking at the ETH for graduate school. 

Alas, things went quickly downhill (oh year 2022, why can't you just relax?) We were on the way to the airport and Frederick announced he felt sick. So he has increasingly clear Covid symptoms and is piling on mask on mask on the plane but we think: ok, stay calm, we are almost there: almost to an actual house and not a hotel, to Lydia and her cake. 

Nao (as they say here.) 

We are picked up as usual by Lydia's son Carlos, and he says casually that there are fires licking the front gates of Quinta do Lago, but how was your year? One house has already burned down, and we may or may not be able to go to our house. I believe I have some of Eloise's producer gene in me and I am already solving this problem in my head and the plan involves not driving the two hours towards the fires, but a retreat to the excellent hotel in Lisbon where I will be close to concrete and airplanes: two things one needs at times of fire. But Thomas thinks Lisbon is "too hot"- code for no water for him to swim in, and we should go closer at least. So I say that if we are looking for a hotel, then we are not the only ones and perhaps he should get on the phone. Sure enough, lots of evacuated hot people are calling the same places and we end up in the last one available: something called Pine Cliffs I think....tag line "where happiness has meaning" or maybe it was 'life has meaning'. We stuff Chico into his room and try to steady our nerves with sushi and Chilean white wine. The cliffs start to have meaning....

Anyway the heroic firemen put them all out, and we are able to come in after two nights. F has covid but feels ok...he is in his little wing away from all but us and the Wehlens come next week. Does anyone else find this year to be just so tense? 

 I find myself increasingly in need of Mister Rogers' quote: 

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say: look at the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." 

Markets crashing? Kid with Covid on a plane? Fires burning the earth and your house? Think of firemen and astrophysicists. Think of immunologists. Think of Liz Cheney and nice people on the train. Oh yes and thank God for the Webb photos- thank god for the Carina Nebula: cutest little star nursery. Hold onto those thoughts like the railing on a ship. Hold on my tribe!!!!!

 Here is what I have learned so far this summer: things are not bad, in fact they are in many ways better. Every place I went was better that it was before. San Francisco is even better than it was before. I know that is not a very fashionable opinion, but it is the truth. (Before you argue with me, read Season of the Witch or talk to any native over 45 years old.) I think maybe (just maybe) our standards have gotten better and the dark side of human behavior seems less acceptable. Maybe it is darkest before the dawn. Or maybe it is really the end and we will burn together waiting in line for over-priced coffee. 

Too close to call. 

Did I mention we are going to the Amazon jungle with Charlie and Frederick before Chile? Pray for good wifi people because this will be the blog of the century. We have two nights in Sao Paolo first, then two flights into the jungle where I fear we will be watching a lot of birds. Nothing against birds but five nights seems like a lot. 

Anyway we have a month to go here in Portugal. More very soon my pretties...we have to stick together: holding each other with one hand, and the photos of baby stars in the other. 

Big Beautiful Cities Tour

Former New York body works building in SoHO, now a Pilates study. 

 
 We heard a lot about flight delays and chaos at airports but so far so good. The itinerary for the summer is New York; London; Milan; Zurich; then in theory, Portugal, then - wait for it- curve ball: Amazon rain forest with Charlie and Frederick; then Chile. SO the packing, with 90% of my things at the old house, was tricky and  am not sure I succeeded. I packed as if I were going to an exclusive event every evening and it instead it was a lot of family dinners.  I am dragging around a lot of bags, one of which has the "HEAVY BAG" tag on it; which makes me feel like a bad. 

Thomas got us into first class on BA and the crowd did not disappoint: my fellow passengers were a woman with very large diamonds wearing LuLu Lemon; a man who thought he should smile at all of us….and an orthodox jew or two. The steward walked us to the seat in case finding 2A was too hard; and meals it was explained to me were on demand. One just starts yelling that one is hungry. Another steward came to say how heroic we were for managing to get on such an early flight. She is right of course; it was 8 a.m. and someone has to eat the asparagus soufflé. 

We had such a New York week! Our first night in the upper east side, an old man was so angry his order didn’t come that he told the much younger manager that “If I could I would punch you in the face right now!!” But apparently due to his spaghetti shaped 80 year old arms, this was not an option for him. Then we saw Fran Leibowitz walking down Park avenue looking grumpy and smoking a cigarette; and we heard a woman tell her child who was crying and wanted a ride in the pram that she was a “sociopath!” (New Yorkers all have the lingo to make sure the next generation goes to as much therapy as they do). I love this town. 

We walked around as usual and tried a few trendy restaurants- one of which served goat intestines. It was an Indian place in the village and they don’t serve Naan, which makes a Wehlen sad. 

Heather and I took lots of walks around Central Park which is glorious this time of year- the weather was strangely cool - SF was hotter than New York. 

Thomas doesn’t notice things that are not right in front of him- the fight behind me at the restaurant went over his head as did the Leibowitz sighting. But he did see Dr. Oz at breakfast and said he looks older than he does on tv. I thought about what I would say if we ended up in the elevator together….what searing little line would express my chagrin at the way he has turned to the dark side. For the uninitiated: he is a doctor that used to be on Oprah regularly telling us to look at our poops, and now he is a Trump defender running for senate in a state that is not his own (PA). I finally landed on something I hoped was both simple and ominous: 

“I sincerely hope you are watching the hearings.” It reminds me of when Bill Clinton came to Chris N’s mother’s building and she found the whole thing sort of an inconvenience….Amy however was (one assumes) in full make-up and heels and really thought about what she would say. She went with a classic- Marilyn Monroe esque greeting “Good evening Mr. President”. Pretty good…flirty but with full deniability. Chris’ mother was the best though..she just said loudly: “Welcome to the building!!!” I love that. SO confident and blasé. 

The hearings …oh the hearings…dare we hope? (Dare we?) The stupid runs strong in my country I tell you. 

Speaking of stupid, I have to say that the New York waiters are so much more professional and even polite compared to those in my fair city. I am not kidding…all kinds of good manners and clever problem solving that I don’t often see in San Francisco. At home I don’t think they want to do this as a profession , they want to develop apps or become actors. 

The Berkeley Hotel pool..working away

London is always so very wonderful and a week is way too short. We saw lots of Peter and K but the little work we had, combined with our jet lag made the days short. I didn’t get to go to a play or see the inside of Kensington Palace where William and Kate live and Queen Victoria grew up (before she was Queen and moved to Buckingham Palace).

I am presently in Milan at the incredible new Four Seasons which is in a converted convent. In my room are 15th century frescos on the ceiling, and there is a very beautiful swimming pool in what was once the cisterns. It has arches and dramatic lighting which contrast with the little kiddies in floatation devices bobbing around with me. Milan is so elegant- the stores, the people, the buildings. It doesn't have a single tree as far as we can tell, so it is not for the outdoorsy set, but it looks really good compared to when I lived here (there was a world expo here in 2015 or os and a few billion was spent to spruce it up).

Seeing lots of beloved Margaret and G who are in great shape and cooking lots of healthy food for us. 

Back in a jiffy…xx