Part of the fun of traveling abroad on an educational tour is sharing your experiences with your friends and family back home. Some people call it "bragging rights," and I find the notion perfectly acceptable in all travel-related circumstances. Whether you want to text a quick hello, video chat or share photos, the world is a connected place these days, which makes it easier than ever to stay in touch. 

When I travel to Rome, I remind myself each time how magical this city is by doing the same exact walk every time. It is really a walk of piazzas and fountains, of ancient monuments and baroque, and it starts in the Piazza della Minerva at the back of the Pantheon with Bernini’s Elephant (pictured) plopped in the middle of the square. The whole walk takes about an hour or two or three depending on whether you stop for coffee, lunch, or ice cream. My recommendation is to do all three!

I had a nice visit with Frau Stabile’s group from Virginia when I joined them for pizza making at a place we have started to use this year. It is set up really well, everybody gets to make their pizza, and eat it too while a plethora of other stuff is also thrown in.  

The secret of great pizza is in the dough and the heat of the oven. 

The chef would never tell me what his ingredients were, but even if he did, it’s really the percentages and the years of playing with the dough that create the magical thin crust of a Roman pizza. 

It is unlike any other pizza in the world. 

You can’t really pick it up with your hands and it doesn’t have a ton of toppings on it. It is subtle, not too fattening, with fabulous mozzarella from Naples, fresh tomatoes from San Marzano, and beautiful olive oil from Tuscany. The wood oven remains fired up 24-hours a day, 7-days a week to keep the temperature always running around 750 degrees Fahrenheit. 

Someone said that it’s simply part of the culture in Italy: the chaos, the confusion, the obsession over detail. A general national resolution to not want to resolve things easily or practically. Paradoxical forces pushing each other in opposite directions. That sort of sums up Italian politics. 

A country constantly at the polls, governments that change at the drop of a hat, alliances that end up politically appouring each other, and scandals that make the tabloids we read seem light weight. It is a show that is replayed often more than once annually and for outsiders, it is simply unfathomable. 

Italy never ceases to amaze me. There is always something new and always an adventure to be had that stretches the imagination. Our day started early with the Eurostar from Rome to Florence. I needed to check out a couple of hotels and wanted to dive into the Strozzi Palace to grab a book on Italian art in the 1930’s. We raced through the streets, grabbed the book, briefly sped by the Duomo, and then rented a car to head out to the outer reaches of Tuscany via Lucca, a delightfully charming walled city not far from Pisa. 

Driving in Italy on the autostrada is frankly fun, especially with my Italian friend. Speed limits are mere suggestions. Everybody was racing as if it were a Formula 1 day out.

Travelling is one of my most favourite things in the world. It’s almost an addiction. Since I seem to spend so long dreaming, plotting and planning my future jaunts, I often wonder why the itchy feet syndrome is such a global phenomenon. What is it about travel that is so exciting? How do you identify the highlights of a trip abroad? Why do some people, myself included, seem to become addicted to constantly roaming the world?

Berlin is an intriguing city. It is a place where recent history and the present come together like nowhere else I know. It is exemplified by a massive empty green space with a giant blue box on it, at the end of the famous main boulevard, Unter Den Linden. More of that in a moment.

In Berlin you can look at 100 years of history from a single spot. Go for example to one of the most feared addresses in Europe: Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse, where the headquarters of the Gestapo used to be. The ruins of the prison cells are still here. To the left is the elegant neo-renaissance Prussian parliament building from before World War One. To the right is Göring's Luftwaffe HQ. In front of you is the best preserved fragment of the Berlin Wall that divided the city. And behind you is the excellent new "Topography of Terror" museum which shows modern Germany's commitment to dealing with its past. It's all there.

I get confused. I am flying transatlantic to Geneva and my trusty Briggs and Riley bag is ready and set for carry-on, but the Swiss Air representative at the gate tells me it is too heavy. 

I should’ve hidden it, as I usually do if the carry-on scene looks dodgy, but I knew that the bag would fit above the cabin and I had a very tight connection in Zurich. Swiss Air informed me that their weight requirements are very restrictive and my bag was just too heavy. In fact, the airline only allows passengers one piece of main baggage up to 17 pounds.  

I ended up checking it in, doing the usual ritual of saying goodbye, and told the check-in person that I had absolutely no confidence of ever seeing my bag again even though this was Swiss Air.

It has been a strange week. A week to reflect on lots of things and a week to look at our city of Boston and feel good.

I first came to Boston in 1975. It was a tiny town, not very cosmopolitan or sophisticated, but there was something appealing about its smallness that I liked, having lived in London for most of my life. Over the years the city grew rapidly, in a positive way. It became a major Hub. They call it that today. "The Hub." It moved well with the times.

Creative architecture began sprouting up everywhere and neighborhoods that were run down were revitalized. And there was always a great sports scene here. No other city has quite that; one team for every sport and obsessively followed to the last. You are—if you live in Boston—a Red Sox, Pats, Bruins and Celtics fan. That’s our deal. Our stadiums are in town except for the Pats and are always full. We have the symphony and ballet and opera all within walking distance and two world famous art museums.

As some of you know, our ACIS headquarters is stationed in Boston in the beautiful neighborhood of Fort Point Channel, miles away from the tragic events that occurred yesterday afternoon.

In the last 24 hours, we've received an outpouring of thoughts and prayers from our travelers, friends, and partners around the world. Your generosity in thinking of the well-being of our staffers and our loves ones—many of whom you've never met—speaks volumes to the human spirit and to the relationships and bonds we've formed with you over the last three decades.

For so long we've considered each and every one of you as part of the greater ACIS family. Today, you made us feel like a part of yours. With immense gratitude, thank you for your thoughts and support.

We've been in constant communication with New England travelers who are abroad at the moment and who feared for the safety of friends and family back home. We're happy to learn that all family members of travelers are safe.

And for that we are grateful.