Just four more nights of sleep before I get on a plane and head off to Italy.  It’s been a vacation that’s been planned, in general, for many, many months, although some of the finer details have just come together over the last couple of weeks.

Bright and early on Wednesday morning, I head off to Milan, Italy.

I plan to spend about half a day in that busy city, and then head off to Lake Maggiore for a few days of relaxation and exploration,before heading to Tuscany and a couple of weeks (a return visit) at a wonderful farmhouse on a vineyard.

I’ve never been to the northern part of Italy, so have been busy researching what’s there and what’s not to be missed.  If you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them – please leave a comment!

I’ll be blogging from the road, sharing some photos and experiences as I journey through three weeks visiting Italy, Switzerland, and Croatia.  I have a bunch of post scheduled in advance, and during the time that I’m traveling, you’ll also see a few guest posts from some of my favorite travel bloggers.  And, of course, Kori will still be here sharing travel through her eyes.

The best part of being a travel blogger is traveling – and getting to share it with all of you.

Photo credit: wikimedia

After 10 years of being locked away, the Shroud of Turin is slated for display in 2010.  It is normally rolled up and locked away in a silver box, and kept under close guard in the Chapel of the Holy Shroud, with a replica on display.  But Pope Benedict has announced that the real thing will be put on display for the faithful to see next year, and as a result, religious travel promises to be booming.

The Shroud is a linen cloth (measuring approximately 14  1/2 x 4 feet) that is believed to have been the burial cloth of Jesus.  Many Christians believe that the cloth has an image of a crucified man, with a beard and long hair, with arms folded across his chest.  The cloth appears to have blood, seemingly from wounds in the wrists, feet and side.

The Shroud in not without controversy, however, with many claiming that its provenance is a myth.  Carbon dating tests indicated the cloth dated to a time period completely inconsistent with the crucifixion theory.  Yet, scientists haven’t been able to explain the image on the cloth.  Thus the arguments begin, scientists claiming that the image could have been printed on the cloth and theologians arguing that the testing was faulty.  The religious controversy aside, this is still a historical artifact of note.

The Shroud will be on display at the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist in Turin, Italy, from April 4th – May 20th, and is expected to draw over two million visitors to the Piemonte region.  That’s a lot of people for this area, so accommodations are going to be at a premium.  Tour operators are creating packages to include a visit to the Shroud, so if you’d like to view this religious artifact, contact your Travel Agent for assistance or start doing your research online.  Book early, it will be next year before you know it.

NOTE:  The Catholic Church does not officially claim that the Shroud is the burial cloth of Jesus, nor that it is a belief of faith.  Its position is that the cloth should serve as a reminder to the faithful of Jesus’ passion.  Pope John Paul viewed the shroud in 1998, and called on science to find answers to the questions raised by the cloth.  The questions have gone unanswered, and controversy remains.

Photo credit: Wikipedia

I’m going to try to illustrate that there are times in every relationship, during which small gaps occur: gaps in expectations, gaps in promises, responsibilities, trust and perhaps a gap in adoration. It is also intended to demonstrate that sometimes we have to put our ambitions aside for the sake of our partners.

“Mind The Gap”, is also used on the London underground transit system, to remind riders to be cautious of the gap between the train and the platform. How prosaic, right?

Several years ago, my husband’s firm, a large New York based financial services corporation, offered him a temporary position in London. I was invited to join him. I recognized this to be an extremely important opportunitiy and insisted that he had to take the position. We convinced each other that it could only be helpful for his career moving forward and that it would be great for me as well.

At that time, I was an up-and-comer at an ad agency in New York and loving every minute of it. The job, the fancy restaurants, the attention, I was like Carrie Bradshaw of the ’80’s…only not as cool. Because I was so impressed with myself and my career and the big city…I wasn’t the most attentive wife on the planet. Stayed out late, worked late, got home late: not fun for him.

I knew in my core that I’d owed it to my husband to shift the focus from my career priorities to his. My own guilt forced me to make a decision.

And so, after all the farewell parties and mementos of New York from well-wishers, we packed everything up, rented our home to a stranger, and moved and cross the pond.

We were both petrified, we had to find a place to live (with cable hopefully) and he had to get up that Monday and go to work. I had to go to my…go to the…go nowhere! I was alone in a strange city, no friends or colleagues, surrounded by people who don’t really like Americans all that much (or at least that’s the feeling I’d gotten).

Don’t get me wrong, we travelled all over the place, Scotland, Ireland, Italy, Spain…attended the best British shows ate at some of the finest restaurants …it was the opportunity of a lifetime, with lots of fun times. But every Monday morning I faced an entire week of solitude. And my intense obsession with British History wasn’t helping all that much.

I walked every street in London, went to every museum, shopped at the most famous department stores in the world. But I was deeply and profoundly unhappy. I had been working for so many years, I didn’t know what to do with myself–I felt useless…so I, did what every young woman would do who is fortunate enough to live in an exciting city, in the best part of town, with the potential to do anything she wanted — I found a job!

I thought that would make us feel normal, back to the two job household: goodbyes in the morning, cocktails in the evening. It didn’t. Nearly the end of our trip and I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to come home, I missed New York — I arranged to rent a small studio apartment in NYC, got back to my agency job, and corresponded with my husband long distance. What a horrible, selfish wife I was, I’d left the sweetest, most generous guy all alone. I felt so guilty.

I do recognize the irony….it was guilt that sent me to England and guilt that traveled with me on that plane ride back to NYC.

This long, long story reminds us that the “…for better or worse…”, can sometimes mean sacrifice and minding the gaps…what is your story?