Amid the stainless steel, leatherette and Formica of coffee shops in Manhattan's Radio City, balding businessmen and their wives from Wichita or Fort Wayne worried over the foreign schedules prepared by hard-pressed travel agents. "Well," one of them murmured, "if Ellen insists, I suppose we could steal a day from Venice to take in Portofino, but where will that leave our two days in Zurich?" In Hannover, Heidelberg and Hamm, German mothers wrapped the last of huge piles of Butterbrote in waxed paper as their cantankerous and impatient offspring squabbled over who was to sit where in the family...
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