Donna and I had begun 12 days of a work-vacation (what other kind of vacation would we do without kids?) by flying to Rome, then heading immediately north toward the Tuscan town of Barga, where my cousin Missy had planned her marriage (she had a work-marriage, teaching yoga there before the nuptials). We planned to stop off on the way there, and my mom’s travel agent had found a little town midway. Our Garmin GPS did not work, and the town was so small my iPhone wasn’t picking it up. We made our way to Viterbo, which I knew our town was near, then stopped at McDonalds (to park) and phoned the hotel. We were still 30 kilometers away, the woman said, and when I told her my Garmin GPS was useless, she said something Read On »

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