SANT'ANGELO, Ischia, Italy I've never rearranged blazing logs with an iBook on my lap before. The satisfaction of this experience leads me to believe I could live in Europe again. Or in a yurt perhaps.
But I'd have to stop shaving. Nope. Scratch that. My hairy mountain-guide days are done, I think.
Today dawned cold and rainy on Ischia, Capri's sister-island in the Gulf of Naples. Sant' Angelo a pedestrian-only village at the road's southern terminus has no Internet access for visitors. I was flummoxed.
"Just take the bus to Panza," my host Eugenio explained.
"Signore," I longed to shout, "I'm from Seattle, where the metro buses have wifi. When my office connection failed, I discovered seven open networks in a residential neighborhood. The Internet is like air inescapable and free."
Of course, I say nothing. Toto, we are a long, long way from the Emerald City. And courtesy is key.
I spotted a titanium Powerbook at the register. "Lei ha anche un Mac. Complimenti," I told the swashbuckling Pirate Captain Carlo. (You also have an Apple. My compliments.)
Suddenly I was plugged into seemingly the only high-speed link for miles.