Author: Wandering Amerrickans

February 26 and 27, 2020

Oh Wow Plus 100 Camels

Our one day of rest and relaxation in Aqaba turned out not to be. The hotel’s main pool was under construction and the noise was unbearable to sit outside, even on our balcony. So we hung out in the room and got caught up on work and the blog.

At 3:30 our driver came to fetch us and bring us to Wadi Musa, the town closest to the main entrance of Petra. I have decided that Jordanian drivers are a bit reckless and certainly drive like the wind. As we topped out at the pass through some of Jordan’s highest mountains, there were patches of snow still sitting in the shade. Crazy to think yesterday it was snowing here.

We made it to the hotel just in time for sunset, had an incredibly warm welcome from the duty manager, the cousin of a waiter at the other hotel who we had befriended and watched the sun set over the beautiful mountains.

Dinner at the hotel was delicious and we all went to bed early for the alarm was going off at 5:30AM so we could get into Petra before the crowds.

Petra is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the second one we will have visited this trip (the first was Wadi Rum Protected Area). It is not known precisely when Petra was built, but the city began to prosper as the capital of the Nabataean Arab Empire from the 1st century BC, but was later annexed to the Roman Empire and continued to thrive until a large earthquake in 363 AD destroyed much of the city. The earthquake combined with changes in trade routes, eventually led to the downfall of the city which was ultimately abandoned, only to be “discovered” by westerners in 1812.

Our timing this morning was great as we pretty much had the Siq all to ourselves as we walked in. The Siq is the ancient entrance to the city of Petra. It is basically a ridiculously deep slot canyon with walls some 250 feet high, still paved in ancient cobblestones in part, with remnants of original dams, canals and carvings of the Nabataeans. The walk through the Siq was beautiful and peaceful, leaving us in great anticipation of arriving at the end where we would come face to face with the Treasury, Petra’s most famous building.

Arrival at the end of the Siq gave us the initial glimpse of the magnificent treasury building. Stepping out into the open brought this stunning structure into full view, literally resulting in audible gasps of, “Oh wow!” It is a truly spectacular sight and there were few other people around to detract from its impact. Thies remarked that he had expected it was going to be much smaller than its actual size of roughly 80 feet high. It’s original purpose is still a mystery but it has recently been thought to be a tomb. The carvings and columns are lovely, and its placement under an overhang, built into the sandstone cliff is truly marvelous. We lingered here a while, taking photos and just absorbing its overwhelming presence before heading down the main trail deeper into the old town of Petra.

All of the canyon walls are filled with caves. There are hundreds of them carved into the rock having been used for stables, homes, tombs, stores, etc. We knew there was a view of the Treasury from above so we set out to find it. We ended up eventually finding the main trail of Al-Kubtha that would take you up high on the cliffs above the Treasury for a view down on it. Did I mention that this trail takes you up? Like up 1 mile and over 600 steps or in the case of some areas just indents carved into the rock. This trail was a serious workout but the views along the way were spectacular without a cloud in the sky to obscure the panorama.

Thies and Jenny had gone on ahead of us…you know younger more able bodied folk they are, and by the time we made it to the viewpoint, we found them hanging out on the edge of the cliff in a Bedouin’s tea house, chatting it up with a family from the Netherlands. The family was grateful to receive news from us that we had passed their two other children carrying their hotel-packed lunch boxes not far from where we were now.

The view over the edge down to the Treasury was breathtaking. We sipped fresh pomegranate juice and watched as the sun rose high enough in the sky to shine its first rays of the day on it, lighting it up slowly from top to bottom – so dramatic!

Back down the 600 steps and our knees surely felt it more than our glutes did going up! Oh, but the price we are willing to pay for the experience of it all.

On the way we checked out the area known as the Royal Tombs. They are magnificent in their structure and colors of granite zigzagging every which way throughout- reds, yellows, whites, blacks, oranges, and pinks were like a sunset explosion.

Billy and Thies decided to try their hands at negotiating with the local Bedouins for a few souvenirs and gifts to purchase to take back home. As it seems for all of the vendors, they are masters at their craft and even a truly excellent salesman like Billy, doesn’t stand a chance…At one point, the vendor offered 100 camels for Jenny… at anywhere from $3500-$5500 per camel I’d say she’s worth some money. But once again, the experience was fun and the items purchased will immediately remind us of the incredible time we have spent here in Jordan.

We continued down on the main trail, knowing that tomorrow we would cover most of the same ground so instead we veered up into the hills to see some of the outer, less visited sights that we were sure we would not want to stop at after our planned trek for tomorrow. The temple of the Winged Lion was pretty basic, with not much to see as none of it had been restored.

The other was the Byzantine Church, which while also not restored, and having been mostly destroyed by earthquake and fire, was a great stop for the mosaic floor alone. We also got a good laugh over the “guard” watching a US boxing match on his iPhone flinching and jerking with what must have been the jabs and blows being dealt in the ring.

Though still early in the day, it had already been a full one for us and the sun was out in full force. We decided to call it a day and go find some grub as we were all hungry and tired. The crowds on the main trail, the ridiculous amounts of trinket sellers lining the road, and the large numbers of donkeys and camels everywhere certainly detracted from the scene this should be. I was so happy we had enjoyed it before it had turned into a bit of a circus with the tour groups and crowds. In reflection, had we entered to the scene we exited on, the entire experience would have been different and probably disappointing.

Lunch back at the hotel hit the spot and we all passed out right after. We woke to watch another beautiful sunset over the rugged mountains of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan -such a great day!

February 28, 2020

Beautiful Jordan – In More Ways Than One

We were out the door on time this morning at 6:30AM for our drop off at Little Petra. The taxi driver told us to let the guy know at the bookstore outside the Petra Visitor Center when we were ready to be picked up and he would call him. I told him if he never hears from us to please send a search party out to look for us.

Technically there’s one way in and out of Petra, making it so you have to backtrack but I had read about a hike in to Petra through the “back door” that allows for one way travel. It also allows for you to avoid having to go up the grueling 800 or so steps to see the Monastery, the last structure on the main trail inside the confines of Petra Archaeological Park. The back door entry follows the Jordan Trail which is basically the Appalachian Trail of Jordan and can be done in a few hours. It was all appealing so I applied for the permission letters to hike before leaving home so we would be all set.

We arrived at Little Petra and were the only ones there, even the Bedouin vendors hadn’t arrived yet. We walked through the canyon, entering Little Petra through its ancient “door.” We were amazed how this far out from the main sight of Petra there were still hundreds of caves and carvings.

I searched for what is known as the Painted Biclinium, a sight that was said should not be missed. A sign helped point me in the right direction where I climbed the sandstone steps to peer inside the first century AD structure to view one of the few surviving examples of Nabataeans frescoes depicting grapevines, flowers and cherubic figures, including Venus. Pretty neat indeed. From there we walked back out where we found the sun lighting up the main temple turning it a beautiful golden color.

Thies took on the roll of navigator using the maps.me program to guide us to our destination of the Monastery. The trail is not very well marked. There is the occasional orange rock or red arrow, a sign every so often but that’s it and there are a lot of trails running off of the main trail so GPS was pretty essential.

The first two miles or so of the trail was through open country of sparsely populated Bedouin camps. No one was moving except for the dogs who dutifully ran up and barked at us only to turn back home once we passed their grounds. The lapis sky did not even have a single cloud and with the air only slightly crisp, we were happy with our decision to get an early start.

Orchid on Our Trail

The first small ascent took us to a beautiful viewpoint overlooking Wadi Araba. Here the topography dramatically changed. We descended into the canyon on a trail that hugged the wall only to round a bend and have Thies point out that the trail goes up and I mean up! Thank God we came early because the trail was still in the shade as while I had read that there was some incline on this trail, no where was it mentioned that there are 292 steps you must climb – I know, I counted! After yesterday’s 8 miles and 600 steps, it was a bit of a “oh sh@t” moment looking straight up but up we soldiered on to reach an incredible viewpoint looking all the way out across the Jordan Rift Valley.

Up until now we had had the trail all to ourselves. There were a few people on a hiking tour that we passed at the rest stop but that was it until we came upon the cutest lady whose rosy cheeks matched the color of her heavy robe and were perfectly accented by the colorful headscarf she wore wrapped tight on her head. I would guess she was in her sixties, mainly from the grey in her eyebrows and the creases around her twinkling eyes. “Monastery? she asked. “Yes,” I said. “Where you are from?” “The United States,” I replied. “Ahhh… America…” In her very rudimentary English she said she was Bedouin, she goes to sell pashminas and that she makes this trek every day! What? Every day? We hadn’t passed a village let alone a tent in miles and we still had miles to go. Not to mention those grueling steps we had just climbed. She was adorable and immediately I was drawn to her beauty and her strength.

Not too long after that we rounded another bend and were looking out ahead at the trail trying to figure out which direction we were going to go next. There weren’t many options – right side, a 2,000 foot drop, left side a sheer wall. As I scanned the mountain I was drawn back to a video I had seen about this hike. I looked across the canyon at a small cut out in the rock face, “Oh dear God, that had better not be the freaking trail.” Thies turned to me, GPS in hand with this look of utter sympathy and certainty and stated, “I think that’s it.” Immediately my heart started pounding. “It can’t be,“ I implored. I had asked on the Trip Advisor forum about the issue for people with heights and I was assured it had all been rectified and there was only a small part (five feet they said) that would bother someone with acrophobia, even if it is not intense. There was no wall, and for that matter there was no trail! This trail made the trail in Zion look like a walk in the park. I told them I was going to have to crawl and Jenny was too because I would be so freaked out watching her walk it I couldn’t handle it. Just then some people that must have been ahead of us crossed the trail. There was no mistaking it – that was the trail. Thies, in his ever upbeat attitude turned to me and assured me, “You got this!”

As T minus zero came closer, my heart was pounding in my ears. Thies went first and got so close to the edge both Billy and I were begging him to step back. Jenny went next and once up assured me it wasn’t as bad as it looked. “It’s just this one part,” she said. Billy stayed behind me, supporting me through his silence. Just as I make my first step up, legs ferociously shaking, trying in vain to slow my breathing, I hear a voice calling, like a beacon of light to a mariner, “Madame. It’s OK. You be fine.” The sweet little lady was watching me, recognizing my tentative steps and desperate grabbing at any crevice in the rock face I could find. Her words and encouragement melted my heart. “I’ll be fine, she said. I’ll be fine.”

The trail continued from there, hugging the cliff with views to die for out over the rugged terrain but with a small wall separating us from the drop off, I was Ok.

We started to descend into the valley, slowly zigzagging down the canyon wall where eventually the terrain widened again and the top of the monastery could be seen. Cresting over a small hill, where the Monastery first came into view, was as memorable an event as ever. Its commanding size and presence made a lasting impression. Jenny asked why the Treasury was the face of Petra when the Monastery was so much more impressive.

We sat up on a hill overlooking it for quite some time before we moved lower to a tea house to continue soaking in the view. Jenny and I ordered a pomegranate juice and a lemon and mint juice while the boys scurried around.

Scenes from the Teahouse:

Not too much later the cute lady came through but now she was hauling a nylon rice sack filled with firewood. I smiled at her, enthusiastically saying, “You made it,” while she smiled back and continued on her way.

The hike from the Monastery back to the visitor center required descending the 800 steps we avoided by coming through the back door. The stairs are lined with vendors – everyone selling the exact same thing. How any of them make a coin is beyond me. It must be a tough life.

At some point, Thies and Jenny got ahead of Billy and I. As we made our way down, I came across Jenny taking a photo of the landscape when a young boy on a donkey nearby told her she could take his picture. When she did, she asked if he would like to see it and she spent a few minutes sharing it with him and laughing. I love that Jenny is never afraid or thinks she is too good to have meaningful exchanges with the people she meets on our trips. In fact, the opposite is true. She thrives off these interactions.

Another couple hundred stairs and once again Jenny gets ahead of us. This time we round the corner to see Jenny talking with the adorable lady from the trail, and I immediately know we are about to spend some money. She and Jenny are in an exchange smiling and laughing with each other. She sees me and grabs Jenny’s hand, leading her to a bench to sit down and tells me to take their photo. I do and share it with her. I point at all the wood she hauled and she smiled and said, “tea,” She asks if we would like to buy a pashmina and I am immediately struck by the fact her stall has about 20 pashminas compared to the 50, 100 or more that we have seen. She has only a few other trinkets and then some rocks and goat antlers that she has collected for sale. She says her name is Shayla and asks Jenny hers. We buy two scarfs from her for 7 Dinars apiece and she offers us a third for 5. Before we know it, she hands Jenny one of the few trinkets she was selling, a colorful mobile that has camels hanging from it, and says, “ A gift from my heart. No pay. For you.” My heart is melting at the thought of this lady who, if she’s lucky sells one item a week – if that, gifting Jenny something. It isn’t the first time we have experienced the generosity of someone who has so little and I suspect it won’t be the last. It is unfathomable really but perhaps not inexplicable.

There is something about Jenny that people are drawn to. Perhaps it’s her genuineness and her pure interest in interacting with people. She is patient and kind with others and always respectful. When an opportunity presents itself to have a moment or two of authentic banter, Jenny jumps on it. Just yesterday she shared a photo of herself in her “cheese head” from the Green Bay Packers game we went to, with a guy who, honestly, knew no different but said he had wanted a Cowboys baseball cap or “maybe one from Green Bay Packers.” She convinced him a slice of Wisconsin cheddar on his head was far better than any nylon cap with a boring old star. But these are the scenarios that seem to happen to us every trip. The few minutes it takes to engage in genuine communication, changes the entire feel of a trip. Jenny is a champ at it and for that she, we, really anyone who travels with her, is heavily rewarded by it.

We bid our goodbyes to Shayla and finished the last of the stairs off to find Thies waiting at the very end. Traveling with us isn’t quick – we slow down to take the scenery in, to shoot pictures, to chat with the locals or to pet a dog. We tend not to rush through things but also to not draw it out to the point that it’s painful. The more countries we travel to, the more we recognize it’s not about the number of things or places we can tick off having seen but the impact the place has on you and for that to occur, you must slow down and smell the roses – so we try.

The majority of the hike back out was the same from the day before. It wasn’t quite as crazy with tourists, perhaps yesterday a cruise ship came into Aqaba. Our cabbie said there has been so much fluctuations in tourists. After the Arab Spring, it was almost nonexistent. It had been strong until the coronavirus and now numbers are rapidly dropping. They are worried what will happen. I can only imagine.

Over lunch, Thies said the hike was one of his favorite things. I agree. It was just over 9 miles of rugged spectacular beauty.

That’s the Moon and Venus in the Top Left

February 29, 2020

The Lowest Point on a Highlight of Trips

We woke to another blue bird day in Petra to make our way north again, this time to the Dead Sea. After breakfast, where I broke down and had one last cup of Bedouin tea with pita and labneh; I guess I was a bit sad to leave this area of Jordan, we started our journey. Our final night in Jordan would be spent at the lowest place in the world at -1,300 feet below sea level. We had only planned one stop and that was at Dana, an abandoned village that is now the home of nothing else but a popular guesthouse for those people traveling on the Jordan Trail.

As we gained distance and elevation the weather changed quickly. We entered a thick cloud layer that left the road blanketed in fog. If anyone were to ask me whether I, at any time felt uneasy or unsafe in Jordan, my answer would be – only when driving in a car. The roads are of inclines that would never pass in the States. The width and guardrails for two lane mountain roads would be unheard of – except maybe in some of our national parks – I’m talking about you Rocky Mountain NP! But the absolutely craziest thing is that the lines in the highway appear to mean nothing – solid, divided, dashed, existent, or the fact there’s none and certainly should be. The left side’s second lane of travel is apparently also the right side’s; two apparent lanes really means three lanes, or occasionally four lanes; the random speed humps encountered in the middle of nowhere are meant to be dodged or what the hell… hit head on going 100 km/hr. So is Jordan safe? Absolutely… unless you are driving in a car. Which is why I was glad we had the accident early on, to get it out of the way and let me rest easy… ha!

As it was, on our way from Dana to the Dead Sea, I thought this could be all she wrote for us. Thies, once again, was drooling with the thoughts of biking this paved way and me, in the last row of the minivan was just praying our driver, who apparently actually races cars for fun, realized how precious his cargo was.

It was more than unfortunate that the fog hid most of the views that surrounded us as for the moments we could gain a glimpse – oh my, were they outstanding. I had no idea Jordon is as mountainous as it is – it is crazy rugged, with jagged peaks every which way – totally unexpected.

As we whirled down the mountains, we came around a corner and laid eyes on a sight I had never seen before and hope to never witness again. There were dogs… tens, if not hundreds of them living in this stretch of desolate land with no obvious reason of being there nor means of surviving there. It was like “Planet of the Apes” but with canines. One of the strangest and most troubling sights we have ever witnessed.

Our descent down from the summit was rapid and unprecedented. We had descended 5,000 feet in less than two hours and were still high in the mountains when Billy announced we were forty feet below sea level. Wait! What? Thies and I both said we were having a really hard time wrapping our heads around the fact we were below sea level while we were carving through canyons high in the mountains above the Jordan Valley far beyond. How is it possible?

When we finally hit the valley floor we headed north to our last stop of the trip. It was amazing passing by stand after stand of vegetable sellers. There are clearly no hungry people in Jordan as the ridiculous abundance of crop-grown foods makes it impossible.

There was a surreal feeling to traveling along, looking at an area that is known to be a place of great angst for the Jordanians. Jordan, like Egypt, has a peace accord with Israel but there is little doubt that there is no love loss there. More than half the population of Jordan considers themselves to be of Palestinian descent – I think I need not say more. It was like today as we were driving and Billy asks the driver who the bumper sticker on the car in front of us is an image of. Seriously? I thought he was being a bit radical. Qadar, our driver, emphatically and almost with a surprising tone states, “Saddam Houssein. The Jordanians loved him.” As far as I was concerned that was a “check” response. Do you really pursue that as an American? I think not.

We pulled into the Marriott and underwent another round of heavy security screening again. But, this was the first place that flinched at Billy’s pocketknife and they actually ended up taking it away from him. He was beyond perturbed to say the least but he held it together and relinquished it with an agreement to pick it up tomorrow before we leave for the airport.

We grabbed a quick lunch on the deck overlooking the resort and the Dead Sea before everyone changed to take a dip. It is well known that the sea has healing properties but it is also known that you can pay a price to receive those benefits.

Thies, in a bit of impatience, ran for the sea before I could warm him and before he read the large warning signs, that any drop of salt water in the eye was going to basically feel corrosive. The Dead Sea is ten times saltier than your typical ocean water and as such what stings in the ocean basically burns here.

Crazy You Can Raise your hands and your Feet

Billy, Jenny and Thies had fun bobbing around in the rather rough water even though it had far more waves than normal. After a bit, Billy exited and Jenny and Thies proceeded to cover themselves in the famous Dead Sea mud. I didn’t bob, mainly because I chose to be the photographer, as well as, I had a few wounds from my tumble out of the truck that I thought if the salinity were to touch, would have me walking on water. I only covered my hands and arms but could feel an absolute difference in my poor parched skin afterwards.

The rest of the day was spent lounging by the pool, watching the sunset and having our first non- Middle Eastern dinner in ten days. We also bid adieu to Thies as his flight was early out. We had a lot of fun with him. It was of course great getting to know him even better. Billy says he’s soulful, and he really likes that about him. I see that too – a very nice quality to have for sure.

There’s nothing like spending time immersed in another culture to remind you how lucky you are yet it enables you to develop sensitivity and understanding of our differences and learn to be comfortable with them. It allows you to recognize and accept that we aren’t the same and that we shouldn’t judge one another by our cultural standards or norms rather we should find common ground to relate to one another – based around respect and decency.

I went into this trip not too sure how we, as Americans, would be welcomed and treated. The people of Jordan have blown away any preconceived fears I might have had. The genuine, heart-felt appreciation they showed for us visiting their country was truly overwhelming. I was shocked by the praise we received as Americans, certainly not what I was expecting.

So many fears were laid to rest and so many misguided ones at that. I found nothing but warmth here and of course raw beauty in not only the landscape but especially the people. I feel a bit of a fool thinking it would be any different, having allowed mainstream news to be my guiding light. I had read and heard so many accounts that a trip to Jordan was life changing; I worried it might be a let down and I wouldn’t feel that way too. I’m happy to say that’s not the case. It more than changed my perspective on this part of the world and isn’t that really what one of the main goals of travel is all about – enlightenment?

There are so many memories etched in my mind. So many take sways I am grateful for. So many sights that left me breathless and so many people that made my heart melt.

A life changing experience for sure.

February 20-21, 2020

Warm Welcomes and a Top Five Experience

Just as walking out the door in Istanbul quickly let us know that we were in a Muslim country, arrival at Amman airport was quick to let us know that we were in the Arab world. Besides the obvious airlines, Fly Dubai, Emirates, etc., there was Yemen Air (which I am not too sure I would take any time soon) and Safe Air (hmmm?…the name alone sets me off). Within minutes there were gentleman in traditional Arab garb – actually pretty cool because I have only ever seen them on TV and many women in burqas.

There was a process to go through to enter – visas stamped and certified, passport control and one more final security check verifying it all one more time, before we could enter baggage claim. But we were warmly welcomed to Jordan.

Our driver, Murad, was waiting for us with a sign and warmly welcomed us to Jordan. Our nighttime drive in was a bit of a let down as we were hoping to get the full experience of being in the Middle East but their were definitely obvious bits and pieces to it.

Of course the feeling that we are actually in the Middle East comes to play in your mind. There is a clear risk traveling here, especially as an American, but then there is a risk everywhere nowadays – New York, Barcelona, Paris, etc. Back at the hotel in Istanbul, we had to walk through a metal detector and place any shopping bags through an x-ray every time we walked into the hotel, though they were a bit lackadaisical about it with known guests. But still, there was a security presence.

I had read about security in Amman, especially at the hotels, but I was not quite prepared for the extent of it. We pulled up to the hotel and were struck by the initial welcome experience. You pull into the driveway stop at a security checkpoint where the driver opens the window, the guards wipe the steering wheel looking for any residual trace of explosives his hands might have left behind, they then walk around the car with a mirror on a stick looking underneath for bombs, they have the driver open the trunk, record the license plate number and check to see who is in the car. They then lower the huge cement Jersey barrier defense system so you can drive on. All of this before you reach the actual doors to the lobby.

Murad was so cute. He turned to us and said, “Please do not let this alarm you. Jordan is a very very safe country. You can walk the streets any time of day and all night long, go anywhere and you will be fine. There are no safety issues here in Jordan. We are very lucky.” After the car is cleared, you then drive up to the front door where you unload and then pass through a metal detector, a swipe over with a wand if you beep and your bags go through x-ray. OK – at this point we are definitely feeling like we are some place we have never traveled to before.

The front desk clerk warmly welcomed us and before we knew it, the front desk manager came sashaying over also warmly welcoming us, thanking us for visiting and letting us know we had been upgraded to an executive suite where fruit platters and pastry platters etc were waiting for us. He could not have been nicer and more friendly. Billy told him how refreshing it is that the international Marriotts seem to always make their guests feel special and the hotels in the US seem to care less. The manager said the US and UK hotels seem to treat their customers with a take it or leave it attitude while the international hotels really want their guests to be happy and to return. He couldn’t be more right! There is something terribly wrong with that, especially considering Billy spends anywhere between 75 – 100 nights a year at a Marriott hotel.

By the time we had received word that Jenny’s boyfriend Thies (who was on his way to join us) was delayed out of Amsterdam and would more than a likely miss his connector in Bucharest. it was 2:30 AM before we had figured out what happened to him and that he would not be arriving until tomorrow now. Jenny was obviously very disappointed but we were happy to hear that at least he would be arriving tomorrow at 3:45, so he would not miss too much time. We passed out exhausted in hopes of a better’s night sleep.

With all of that, on top of how tired we all already were, there were no plans for today. We woke up at 10:30AM, got some work done, and left at 1:45 to have what turned out to be a delicious lunch at a very hip place called Sharms el Balad.

After lunch, we decided to walk down to the center of the old town and check out the Roman Ampitheater. The walk was through a quiet neighborhood yet we clearly drew interest from any passerby’s. Down on the main drag the city seemed to come alive. There were endless shops, many selling traditional outfits for ladies that were actually both exotic and chic. But here is where we certainly felt the fact we are westerners. The stares were only matched by those in Myanmar BUT we heard “welcome to Jordan” from just about every vendor we passed.

The Ampitheater was bustling with families and couples out enjoying the beautiful day. Today is Friday, the first day of the weekend here in Jordan and the locals were out in droves. I will be honest in that it was a bit uncomfortable recognizing that we were so out of place. Why that wasn’t an issue in Myanmar I can only guess that our minds have been tainted by the news with all that is reported about sentiment of Americans in the Middle East. Funny thing is, while we were waiting for our Uber driver, we were speaking to a cab driver that has worked for the Marriott for 20 years. When Wolf asked us where we were from and we told him America, he responded, “Americans are good people.”

Following a very quick visit to the Amphitheater, we hustled to get back to the hotel to meet up with Thies. We grabbed a taxi, who overcharged us by double, though it was really Billy’s fault for offering him double but by the time we arrived at the Marriott, we had laughed so hard with Faoud (or Jimmy as he says his nickname is) that we felt like we had paid for entertainment. Another person who loves America and was happy we were here.

Thies was there waiting for us; Jenny was thrilled; and our possee for the next nine days was together. We basically turned around to head out to the Citadel as high on Jenny’s list of things to experience was to watch the sun set over Amman while listening to the call for prayer. Wolf drove us but informed us the Citadel had already closed but we could still enjoy the views and the calls.

Standing on this hill, overlooking one of the many valleys that Amman is built on was beyond surreal. Watching the gigantic Jordan flag waving in the wind, high on the hill, the flocks of birds flying, the sky turning a light pink color, all while hearing the call to prayer echoing through the valley was an experience I think none of us will ever forget. It was like the stereotypical opening scene to any modern dramatic movie set in the Middle East. Truly one of the most amazing cultural experiences ever.

Though little time spent, the hours we have have surpassed our wildest imaginations. There is no mistaking where you are. It seems on so many of our trips, we can find similarities to places we have been or see things that remind us of other locales – not here; not yet at least. Amman is unique — there is no two ways about it. Personally, I am hoping this trip will wipe out the preconceived ideas we have of this area. I am hoping it will let me see a side to the place and the people that is never portrayed to us – the crazy thing is, the few hours we have been here, it is doing just that!

,

February 22, 2020

Roman Ruins and Dutch Fun

We were up and out early today as Murad was picking us up at 9:00 for a trip outside of Amman to the northern part of Jordan, not far actually, from the Syrian border. The weather was drizzzly but the forecast was for it to clear so Murad said he would pray to the Angles of Open Skies to clear the way for us.

Our ride into the countryside was very pretty through verdant hillsides covered in olive trees. There were many farm stands on the sides of the road selling carrots, cabbage, pumpkins, tomatoes, pomegranates, bananas and basketball-size heads of cauliflower. If only there was not so much trash everywhere, the scenery would have been spectacular. But as it was, you certainly had the feeling of being in foreign lands.

Our first stop was Ajloun Castle located high on Mount ‘Auf at 1250 meters above sea level. Ajloun Castle is a 12th Century fortress that was built under the rule of the sultan and military leader Saladin. Unfortunately, the normal outstanding views of the Jordan Valley, Sea of Galilee and Jerusalem were obscured by the low clouds that hung.

The views had been the main reason to come but oh well, it was still pretty cool to see, even if most of it has been rebuilt since the Crusades.

The second stop was the main reason for today’s trip – Jerash.

We didn’t even make it more than ten feet passed the front entry before one of the vendors caught a hold of Thies. He was a good sport and let him wrap his head in a traditional keffiyeh before he turned him down to purchase it. We had a good laugh at the fact that the price at the front door was 5 Jordanian dinars but by the time you passed through the whole souk and made it to the backdoor, the price was down to 3 dinars!

The ancient city of Jerash has been occupied for the most part for 6,500 years, beginning in the Neolithic Age. Today, it is considered one of the largest and best preserved Roman ruins in the world, outside of Italy. Amazing considering all it has been through from occupation by the crusaders, massive earthquakes and wars. It boasts colonnaded streets with hilltop temples, a huge hippodrome that used to be the scene of chariot races, a large amphitheater that for some reason had men dressed in traditional Arab clothing playing a drum and the bagpipes and a beautiful forum that is still largely intact.

Upon arrival, the weather had turned partly sunny and at one point it got downright warm however it wasn’t long before the clouds returned but how lucky for us that the rain stayed away.

It was very pleasant walking the immense grounds – passing under Hadrian’s Arch built in 130, walking along the stone streets that are rutted from years of chariot use, and having a laugh that the Jordanians there selling trinkets knew where Eindhoven is!

We also had a great laugh from Thies, dancing high up on the forum to the bagpipers down below. Thies is missing Holland’s Carnival to be here in Jordan, so it is necessary to throw in a little bit of that Dutch spirit!

Our car ride back took a little longer than anticipated as we had a bit of a fender bender once we got into Amman. Our driver made a super sudden stop – ABS activated and all but we got hit from behind. We all felt fine, the car sustained no damage which surprised us as it certainly felt like a pretty good impact Needless to say, we took some prophylactic ALEVE and are hoping for the best in the AM. Well, we can tick that one off our checklist – thankfully it was a super minor one!

We made it back to the hotel wondering if we had time to try and see sunset from the Citadel since we missed it last night, but the clouds were still hanging in Amman so Jenny decided we will have many more beautiful places to watch the sunset over the next few days. I think she is right. We are headed to some of the most remarkable and unique locations in Jordan, if not the world. A great adventure still awaits us.

I will be offline for at least two days. We are traveling to Wadi Rum tomorrow to spend two nights in the desert at a traditional (well pretty traditional) Bedouin camp. We have a few fun adventures planned but I will hopefully be able to get caught up on Tuesday evening once we are back in wifi and have electricity!

February 23, 2020

Bedouin Beauty and Mystery

We left the hotel at 8:00 AM to start our drive down south to Wadi Rum. I had planned only one stop after leaving Amman and that was in Madaba to see St George’s Church – home to the largest mosaic map in the world. Inside this Greek Orthodox Church, rediscovered by builders in 1884, is the oldest map of Palestine on record and is believed to have been created in 560 AD. The only problem was, we showed up at 9:00AM – just in time for Sunday Service so we weren’t able to walk inside and see this historical wonder without waiting until 10:00 AM for service to be over. So we hopped back in the van and continued south, turning on the King’s Highway.

The King’s Highway is noted in the bible as the road that Moses was banned from using by the King of Edom as he tried to lead his people through. For hundreds of years, the highway was also an extremely important trade route between Arabia and Syria. Today it not traveled as much as there are two alternate highways that are much quicker compared to the slow going sinuous road that had Thies wishing he had his bicycle. The driver told him to close his eyes and pretend he was riding while we zipped down the canyon.

We stopped at a roadside viewpoint where we were wowed by the incredible valley that lay below us. There was a large dam that created a good size lake in this otherwise dry area. We had a good laugh when Thies noticed a sign on one of the vendors homes that offered Stamppot – a traditional Dutch dish of sausage, kale and potatoes. The vendor was cute as could be – said Americans are very nice people and wanted to know why the people from the Netherlands are so long – too funny! This guy who lived in one tiny room gave Jenny and I each his last two oranges, insisting we take them because they were from his heart. Once back in the car I said he looked just like Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean and everyone laughed and agreed!

I had imagined Jordan to be dry and barren but for the first two hours it was green farmland and hills in all directions but very abruptly it changed to a rocky landscape . As we drove along I thought again how strange it was that it didn’t seem familiar at all, especially the desert. I’ve been in and have driven through plenty of deserts in my life, yet this one seemed different. I finally realized that the reason this didn’t look like any other desert I have seen as it had no plants at all and only rocks, baseball size grey rocks that looked as though they had been scattered by someone playing jacks.

We made a few stops along the way but the remainder of the drive was unremarkable less seeing daily life in small towns.

We pulled into the Wadi Rum Village about six hours after we had left Amman. The village was a scene of pickup trucks outfitted with benches in the bed, bedouin drivers and guides standing around, all in traditional dress of thoabs (a long dress-like cloth) and keffiyehs (some red and white with the agal-rope, some solid colors tied around the head). It was quite the scene but our driver quickly found the right truck to take us out into the desert to our camp for the next two nights, Arabian Nights Camp.

The drive across the red sand under the craggy mountains was amazing. Thies said it reminded him of Monument Valley – so fun it is a familiar place to him. There are certainly aspects that are similar to Monument Valley, the ochre sandstone cliffs stained with black streaks of desert varnish but upon closer inspection these rock formations are different than any I have ever seen.

Twenty minutes later we pulled into our camp – far removed from other camps we had passed, small in size, unbeatable in location, and looking just like I hoped it would – like a traditional Bedouin camp. Our tents were awesome with views to die for… we couldn’t have been happier!

The communal tent where meals are taken and guests congregate was warm and inviting with benches and tables lining all sides, a fireplace on one end with animal hide rugs strewn about on the floor and hot tea on offer.

We went for a walk and marveled at the rock formations – red rock sandstone with white sandstone seemingly poured on top dripping down just like a drip-cake. I honestly have never seen that before anywhere. We watched the sky turn colors as the sun set far from where we could see the horizon.

Soon thereafter we made our way to the communal tent to enjoy the warmth of the fire for once the sun disappeared the chill quickly set in. Our dinner was a delicious chicken dinner known as zarb, cooked in the ground on a tiered rack with carrots, potatoes and onions. It was served with a variety of chopped salads, hummus, pitas, and a vegetable dish that is similar to ratatouille. All simply delicious!

The scene in the communal tent was something straight out of a movie. A dark smoky lounge, if you will, guests and workers hovered around the fireplace exchanging stories and smoking cigarettes. The room only lit by a few bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Other guests quietly sitting around on the outskirts taking in the scene before them. Such a vibe; and an unforgettable one at that. At one point this tall western-looking guy walks in – hair a bit unkempt but pulled back in a ponytail/bun, good looking guy, wearing a full length traditional heavy Bedouin robe, clearly familiar with the people and comfortable with the place- and takes a seat on the floor at the fireplace. He immediately seemed familiar to me adding to the already mysterious feeling of this place. But when he spoke, in his thick Australian accent, I was certain we had met before…

Our beds called quickly, and our cozy tent, walls lined with thick goat hair rugs and a bed covered in a super fluffy duvet kept the frigid outside temperatures from making it unbearable but the room was finally a temperature we liked – sleep came like a high speed train – fast and unstoppable!

February 24, 2020

Oh the Magic of Wadi Rum…

This morning we had a different sort of breakfast, a simple Bedouin style one but I fell in love with their tea – IF you mix it with regular black tea. The Bedouin style tea is a black tea mixed with enough sugar to keep C&H in business for the rest of their days and a copious amount of sage, that grows like a weed here – seemingly one of the only things that dares to grow here. If you take a cup of straight black tea and hit it with a decent shot of Bedouin tea, you have a drink that is certainly exotic yet enjoyable.

As we walked back to our tent following breakfast, our neighbor popped out of his tent and teased us that we were having a champagne breakfast because he saw a bottle of wine sitting next to our tent door. The weird thing is, it only added to the sense I had had about him last night when he walked into the tent for dinner – by this time I had placed him in a previous time with all of us but, though feeling certain it was him, thought the odds were so infinitesimal that I said nothing.

Our driver Omar loaded us up into the heritage Land Cruiser pick up truck and we headed off for a full day tour of the Wadi Rum Protected Area. The morning air was brisk to say the least and we bundled ourselves against the chilly weather. Our first stop was Kahdzhuil Canyon where we could see ancient petroglyphs left behind from the tribes who inhabited this area long ago. Our first, of what turned out to be many, trips into a canyon in Jordan was beyond entertaining watching Omar maneuver through the slot canyon trying to show Thies how to avoid falling in the water by mantling through the small slot canyon- incredible!

When we came out of the canyon, Omar said he wanted to show us something. He told us to wait where we were while he walked over to an area and scooped up sand in his thoab. He knelt down on the ground and then asked Thies how to spell his name. He then scooped up some sand in his hand and proceeded to “write” Thies on the dry sand with what appeared to be wet sand. He followed with Jenny, Billy and Dominique. When he was finished writing names he then “drew” a camel to which Jenny and Thies each gave their best shot at sand drawing a camel as well.

Next stop was a very large sand dune with an unbelievable view from the top. Unloading from the pick-up, I got the heel of my shoe caught in the tailgate of the truck and before I knew it, went crashing to the ground. Jenny looked at me and said, “Oh Mom…”; Billy looked at me and said, “You OK?”; I laughed and said, “Well, that’s one way to get out of the truck!”; Omar smiled at me, said nothing but extended his hand.

Our stop at the sand dune brought us to an area that allowed for Thies to do the one thing I knew he had wanted to do – sandboarding. Omar gave a brief, and I mean brief, explanation on how to do it – stand up or sit down. There it was. Thies, smartly, and in great relief to me, decided to have a go at it sitting down. He caught some speed but remained in control the whole time. Relieved he made it with no broken bones, I cringed when he suggested he and Jenny go tandem. He climbed back up, caught his breath and off the two of them went, tumbling off at the end but rising from the red sand unscathed! The sand boarding box has now been checked – done!

Not long after we pulled away Omar stops the car, gets out and asks Billy, “You want to drive?” Billy jumped out of the bed and hopped in the driver seat, zipping along through the desert. Our next stop was a small, manageable hike to a natural bridge known as Khor al Ajram, or Little Bridge. We all did the small hike to the top and then headed on to the next stop.

A few minutes after leaving Omar stops the car, gets out and asks Thies. “You want to drive?” Thies jumped out of the bed and hopped in the driver seat taking us through the desert to our next stop – a super cool one for Jenny, as it centers on one of her favorite movies- the purported house of Lawrence of Arabia. There really wasn’t much to see, but the views from above were stunning and passerbys had built hundreds of cairns that certainly made for a stunning visual effect.

Not long after we pulled away Omar stops the car, gets out and asks Jenny, “You want to drive?” Jenny says, “No thank you. I do not know how to drive this kind of car,” to which Omar responds, “No problem! I teach you!” Jenny tried again to assure him she was fine but he insisted she should drive so she hopped out of the bed and hopped in the driver seat and got her first lesson in driving stick shift, in the red sands of the UNESCO sight of Wadi Rum. All three of us passengers in the pack of the pick up were amazed at how well she did handling a stick shift, driving in deep sand, with a guide who, those his English was more than passable for what the weather was doing, would not be your first choice as a driving instructor for learning to operate a standard vehicle. Jenny handled it all like a pro, she didn’t stall once, and she and Omar were laughing their way through the magnificent scenery of Wadi Rum.

We made a quick stop at a canyon to enjoy the view and not long after we pulled away Omar stops the car, gets out and asks me, “You want to drive? You know how to drive this kind of car?” I jumped out of the bed and hopped in the driver seat assuring him I did and off we went! We made a wrong turn or two and I was trying hard to follow his directions, “turn left…turn right…harder right…no harder left…no right again” until we found the right track to our midway stop of lunch. We pulled into a beautiful alcove and Omar set up a large rattan mat for us while he got busy preparing a delicious lunch of vegetable stew from scratch. We all enjoyed lazing in the sun and marveling at the silence that befell us. The silence here is heavy, weighing on you like a wet blanket, quickly dimming all other senses as it takes over.

Following lunch we headed out again further into the desert where none of us had a clue where we were or where we might be headed. We stopped at Mushroom Rock, then another canyon, and then another canyon where Omar stopped and told us to walk through and he would meet us on the other side. There were a few other people there that it felt OK. The next canyon and then the next that Omar dropped us at with intention to meet us at the other side had fewer and fewer people until we were the only ones. I told Omar it showed him our complete trust in him, even though we had only known him for a few hours. He drove away smiling and said, “Yes…see you tomorrow…”

The final stop was for sunset, we climbed high up on a sandstone mount where we were feeling certain we would have a beautiful sunset. We got there an hour and a half before the sun was due to set, set up our cameras and relaxed.

About 20 minutes before sunset, we watched as a literal wall of weather came roaring in, taking out the sun, turning the skies black, wiping out any trace of distant Mountain View’s and leaving us with the feeling we were going to get really wet.

The Perfect Line of Weather Coming at Us

We ran for the truck, where Omar was waiting on the other side of the hill so he could not see what all the fuss was about but we managed to convince him somewhat that something bad was heading our way and we needed to go, like now.

We made it to camp, before the rain started, took showers to try and rinse the sand from the cracks and crevices it did not belong in and made our way to the communal tent where the fire was going and we could relax and warm up for a bit.

At some point, the familiar mysterious man walked in and I finally turned to Jenny and said, almost in jest, you know who he reminds me of, that guy in Patagonia we picked up hitchhiking; She said she could see that, but end of story because really what are the chances. That was three yers ago in an exceptionally remote pat of the world, hours from any civilization and that is exactly where we were now – in an exceptionally remote part of the world, maybe not hours from civilization but certainly far removed. And need I mention there are over 7.5 BILLION people in this world….so what really are the chances of running into a complete stranger twice in this life? Infinitesimal right?

We finished our dinner and for some reason the subject of Patagonia, the region not the clothing brand, came up. I do not remember how it all unfolded from there but I turned to this guy knowing exactly where I was headed with this conversation and started off with:

“You ever been to Patagonia?’

“Yeah, I’ve been there.”

“You go there on a motorcycle?”

“Yeah” (with a bit of a strange look on his face)

“You ever been to El Chalten?”

“Yeah. I think I was there.”

“You broke down outside of Chalten. We picked you up hitchhiking with your tire in hand and took you back to your motorcycle.”

(Him now looking intently at me)

Me continuing…”You were with your girlfriend but there wasn’t enough room in our car so she stayed behind and we took you to your bike”

(Clearly I struck a chord)

Him: “Was the motorcycle yellow?”

Me: “Hmmm. I can’t remember that. But I remember you got shook down in Venezuela by the cops and it was your scariest country in South America.”

Billy: “What’s your name?”

Him: “Daniel”

All of us: “Oh my God, you are the guy we picked up.”

Him (Daniel): “Are you sure it was me?”

Billy shows him the selfie I took of all four of us next to his broken down motorcycle and he confirms, “Yeah…that’s me and that’s my motorcycle.” We all about die from the sheer impossibility of it all.

We spend the next hour or so, reminiscing on that fateful day, how it all came to be, what happened after and how incredibly remarkable it was all four of us were sitting together again in a Bedouin tent in the remote lands of Wadi Rum, Jordan. Life doesn’t really get any more bizarre than this. It is difficult to write this one off as a mere case of coincidence. I’m not spiritual really, certainly not religious and even less so superstitious but this one has certainly left us all stupefied.

February 25, 2002

Authentic As It Gets

We woke in the middle of the night to heavy rain falling on the roof of our tent. I remembered that Mumu, one of the Bedouin owners of our camp, had said we were under a flood advisory. As I lay in our tent, images of flash floods sweeping down the canyon floor crept into my mind. It probably didn’t help that Mumu had shown me a video of heavy rains in the area at one point not long ago and how the canyon floor had turned into a roaring red rapid.

When we woke in the morning the mountains were obscured under a blanket of heavy fog and rain was still falling. Funny that we are here in the rain as Wadi Rum averages three days of rain a year. We got dressed to meet up with Daniel to recreate our selfie and to meet up with Mumu to find out what our plan was for today before we departed. We had originally planned a camel ride, all of us except Billy that is, but with the rain and cold we weren’t too sure about that now.

Last night Billy had asked Mumu how to tie his shemagh around his head the way the Bedouins do. Mumu told Billy his was a bit too small and that he would gift him a keffiyeh in the morning. True to his word, he had a camouflage green one that he quickly and expertly tied around Billy’s head -perfect for Greer Billy thinks. In return, Billy gifted Mumu his flashlight, a rechargeable 1,000 lumens torch that would light up the entire valley floor, just about.

Mumu suggested we wait and see about the weather if we wanted to ride a camel but in the meantime he wanted to gift us a small side trip. He said his cousin would come to take us out to a truly authentic Bedouin encampment to see the real way these nomadic people live.

His cousin Faisal was the real deal. He wore a long red and white keffiyeh with the agal ring around his head and a heavy thick Bedouin robe with a thoab underneath and sandals on his feet. His deep mahogany skin was worn, he smoked like a chimney and had a smile so genuine and warm he immediately felt like a friend. We hopped into his pickup truck and off we went into the desert to some unknown place, at an unknown distance, for an unknown time – a real adventure I assured my crew!

Faisal drove like he was participating in the Dakar rally, taking unmarked forks left or right with no hesitation. Something tells me he could make this drive in the thick of a moonless night without his lights on! He was a man of few words but spoke English well enough to communicate with us. We pulled up to a few ramshackled tents and got out of the truck.

There were goats, chickens and a donkey on one side and camels on the other. A woman was speaking in Arabic, clearly caught off guard that she was having visitors. Faisal told us we could take a look around and then join him in the tent to sit by the fire and drink tea. A few flakes of snow actually began falling at this point and the ever so dainty dusting they left on the rock features was magnificent, allowing for a definition in depth that is otherwise difficult to distinguish.

The wind really whipped at us and it wasn’t long before we were sitting around the fire drinking tea with Faisal and a young boy.

I asked Faisal if this was his home and he said no, that he lives in Rum Village now but he had lived here like this as a child like his father and grandfather before him but his parents moved to the village for Faisal and his siblings to go to school, never to return to a nomadic life. While I think it is wonderful that education is given such an importance, it is also a shame that traditional ways of life are lost. It was interesting because in Rum Village there was written on a wall, “Education takes you out of the darkness and into the light.”

Faisal told me these people were his cousins – everybody we met from the workers to the guides all called each other cousins. They said there were hundreds and hundreds of cousins, reminding me of some of the heavily Mormon towns in Utah or then again, perhaps a Phelps family reunion!

As we warmed at the fire, I had some serious reservations about the tea we were about to drink. The cups were “washed” in a plastic bin with beige colored water. The water for the tea was poured from a 40 gallon plastic jug once used to hold some sort of oil. The water was put on the fire where I had hoped to see bubbles rising but I was going to have to settle for steam – and some serious hopeful thinking. I had read and had been told how incredibly rude it is to turn down an offer of tea, especially if you are sitting in someone’s house like we were, so a “no thank you” was not an option, no matter how sincere and polite it may have been!

An hour later, we left to go back to camp and grab our things. It was still raining and cold so we decided the camel ride was off the table, much to Jenny’s disappointment. Though I was up for the challenge of trying to ride a camel, after having just been bounced around in Faisal’s truck, I figured my neck and back were probably holding on by a mere thread before giving out, so I thought it best to skip it as well.

Mumu met us in the village to hand us off to a taxi driver that is his good friend and was insistent on giving us our money back for the prepaid camel ride. We refused the money instead asking him to please share it with all of his workers and thanking him for the extra trip out to see the traditional Bedouin Camp – something we all enjoyed and Thies even commented on the ride back that he really liked it.

The one hour ride to Aqaba was a gorgeous drive through a canyon between two sets of jagged mountains streaked black with basalt and red with iron ore intrusions.

It wasn’t until we got to Aqaba that the rain finally let up We could see the streets were covered in dirt that had washed from the garden median into the road. Security at this hotel was just as severe as in Amman, which of course we welcomed. Upon checking in, the front desk clerk said that they had received more rain over the last ten hours then at any other point in the last eight years. Wow! So glad that wasn’t the case in Wadi Rum because for sure we would have been washed away.

The hotel is very nice but it certainly was a bit of a let down. The funny thing is Billy was upgraded to the Presidential Suite – the one room I had specifically said we did not want. The view from the hotel is great, overlooking the Gulf of Aqaba, an offshoot of the Red Sea. Here you can see four countries at once – Jordan, Israel, Egypt and Saudi Arabia – pretty cool. We watched the sunset over Mount Sinai and since the restaurant at the hotel was unexpectedly closed that we wanted to dine at, we opted for room service since we had a dining room table. We enjoyed a casual dinner in our room overlooking the lights of Israel reminiscing of our time in magical Wadi Rum.

February 15, 16 and 17

“How many hotels in how many days?”

And we’re off… on another grand adventure to an area of the world that might not be considered by many as top of their bucket list. We are excited and certainly a bit nervous, but I think that is to be expected. There are lots of things we are looking forward to and of course there are the unknowns – which there are in all trips – but maybe more so in this part of the world.

Our first stop is a few days in Istanbul followed by ten days in Jordan and two nights in Budapest. We had lots of concerns about travels to this part of the world. When we heard of the demise of Suleimani we thought for sure our trip was done. As we sat and waited and watched the steps of all involved, we felt ok. When Trump’s new “peace plan” between Israel and Palestine was offered up, we sat and waited again. When the coronavirus started spreading, we sat yet again. Part of me thought there’s a message… but the rest of me knew that I couldn’t read into happenings that way. I read many reports from just returning Americans from Jordon, all proclaiming no issues for them, everyone was very friendly and welcoming. They don’t like Trump and his politics but they have no issues with Americans at all. Of course, we aren’t naive enough to realize that is the case for everybody and we certainly understand there is a risk for terrorism but we, as a family, like we always have, sat down and discussed it, concluding there really was no reason not to travel.

Our trip began with staying the night at JFK before our morning flight to London Heathrow. I had booked a room at the Marriott Courtyard but Billy suggested we should stay at the new TWA hotel – he thought it would be a neat experience and a fun way to start off our trip. We arrived at 6:30 and were immediately struck by just how cool this hotel is!

They have done a great job bringing the era of 1950s air travel back to life. It is an instagrammers dream and the people watching was far beyond entertaining. There are multiple areas to dine and drink but the highlight is an original 1957 Constellation airplane stationed outside that has been turned into a cocktail lounge.

My mom told me that when she left for Africa in 1956 from La Guardia airport, she flew on a TWA Super G Constellation. Her flight had to stop for refueling in Gandor, Newfoundland; Shannon, Ireland; Paris and finally Athens before she transferred to Ethiopian Airlines for the rest of the trip – can you imagine? It would be fun to bring her there to see it all again!

Our morning flight to Heathrow was uneventful but arrival at 10:00 pm threw us off a bit. We had an eleven hour layover and by the time we got to the hotel the kitchen had closed. Dinner ended up being Domino’s Pizza – something Billy and I haven’t “dined” on since college and Jenny had never had.

We woke Monday AM and found that I had an email from British Airways saying our onward flight to Istanbul had been cancelled – end of story, no alternative given. I called and spoke to an agent who asked me how flexible we were. Expecting perhaps he would suggest an alternate flight that left a bit later and required a stop, he instead offered up a flight that would get us to Istanbul on Thursday! Mind you that’s three days later and is the day we leave for Amman. I quickly let him know that was not an option and relayed the flights on Turkish Airlines that they could put us on instead if there was no British Airways flight until then. After some back and forth he agreed and so we were looking at almost twelve hours to kill before our new flight time. We all went back to sleep since we hadn’t had much the night before and decided after showering that we would go to Windsor Castle for a few hours.

We called an Uber, arrived in Windsor 20 minutes later, grabbed a quick bite and hit the castle running. I had been there when I was fifteen and remembered how grand it was but it was fun for Billy and Jenny to get to see it. We saw the lavish state apartments, the queen’s dollhouses which we all said Sib would love, and then St George’s Chapel where Harry and Megan were married (where we of course lit a candle for my dad).

(No pictures allowed inside).

In and out in record time thanks to low crowds, we made it back to Heathrow with three hours before our scheduled flight.

We went to check in at the ticket counter to get our boarding passes and discuss our luggage that we hadn’t seen since we checked in at JFK as it had been checked thru to Istanbul and the guy totally blindsided us. He said we didn’t have seats. We were standby because BA can’t just go giving away their seats. He said they were oversold and there were others in front of us in the same boat. I told him I had confirmed with Turkish myself this morning and I had a record locator number that Turkish Airlines had given me to confirm my booking. He replied, “I am Turkish Airways and I say no seats.” OK buddy… screw you…so we went to a kiosk and checked in there using the Record Locator number they had given me earlier and bingo – we got boarding passes. In a hurry to get thru security before he figured out what we had done ( although we were well aware we couldn’t count our turkeys until they hatched- he could always yank us off the plane) we went to check on our luggage situation at the international transfer desk only be told again they were oversold and we didn’t actually have seats. We acted dumb but this guy was very nice and helpful and somehow after twenty minutes of phone calls, confirmed our seats – phew!

When we boarded the plane we checked the app to see where our bags were and they were still sitting where they were this morning. Needless to say, we weren’t feeling positive nor thrilled with the idea of another day in the same clothes we had left CT in two days previous. As it turned out – no bags and no indication of when we might ever see them again.

There had been a cute family sitting in the row in front of us who we chatted with upon landing and complimented the children on their stellar behavior. They were so cute! The man saw us sitting in the baggage office and came in to speak to us. He lives in London, does a lot of business in the States but was born and raised in Turkey. He wanted to offer his telephone number in case we needed anything, had any questions or just wanted to meet up. His name was Hayati and it’s times like these that your faith in the kindness of others gets restored. It was perfect timing…

It was beautiful coming into Istanbul and seeing all the mosques lit up at night – there are so many of them!

But by the time we got checked in at the hotel it was 3:00 AM. The hotel is beautiful – a brand spanking new JW Marriott in an old renovated building with views of the nearby Galata Tower and clear across the Bosphorous to the Hagia Sophia -simply stunning.

We were welcomed with passion and appreciation by the staff and upon entering our room, there was two plates of lovely desserts waiting for us – the best baklava I have ever tasted!!!

I washed clothes until 4:00 AM, drank a glass of wine and then collapsed into bed to post this. I worry we will end up sleeping most of the day away but I’m determined to get up and get out of here to go out and explore. The weather is supposed to be stellar in a time when it is normally cold and rainy or even snowy. We are looking forward to checking it all out and soaking up the culture here.

February 18, 2020

Bazaar Istanbul

I set an alarm for 9:45 this AM in order not to sleep until dinner. It wasn’t easy waking up but we rallied to get to breakfast before they stopped serving. It was an incredible spread on the top floor with a beautiful view.

We were out the door by 12:00 walking in the crisp air of a beautiful sunny day. Walking along, it didn’t toke long to realize that we were in a predominantly Muslim country. The majority of women were wearing headscarves and clothing that covered all of their bodies while plenty dressed al in black with their faces covered as well.

Yesterday on the plane flight, Jenny pointed out that the seat back entertainment console had a channel that was the countdown for the next prayer as well as a screen that showed where Mecca was in relation to the plane – a first for us for sure.

Our destination was the old section of Istanbul to walk the ancient roads. I had originally had a plan for us but with the delay, I decided better to just let the day unfold as it may be instead of try and force something that should have been.

We immediately walked across the Galata Bridge that spans the Golden Horn. We loved watching the hundred or so fisherman lined up side by side tossing their lines into the waters below hoping to catch a puny fish. The dichotomy of people was an interesting statement.

The waters of the Bosphorous and the Goldon Horn are a beautiful cerulean color. There were thousands of clear jellies floating along that we could see from high above. We came across our first Mosque and Jenny said immediately that she wanted to go in. Since we had no baggage, we had no head wraps so we had to make a quick stop to buy some. Of course there was one next to the mosque and at $3 a piece, it was not an issue to purchase ourselves one since ours were who knows where!

The mosque had a sign for the tourist entry where a notice was posted to remove our shoes. Reminiscent of Myanmar we thought but there our socks too needed to be removed, here they could stay on but the females needed to cover their hair. This Mosque, the name I do not know, was as plain as and drab as any office building in middle America. We didn’t stay long, before setting our sights on the Egyptian Bazaar, also referred to as the spice market.

The spice market building was quite beautiful inside. It had one long middle street with all the shops open on the sides. It was busy but not so much so that you couldn’t see.

It didn’t take long for one of the sales guys to pull us in to his shop. His tactics were smooth yet humorous, not pushy nor overbearing, persistent yet respectful. Billy was quite active here, choosing some mint tea he had been given a sample of, as well as a peppercorn mix. He tried to persuade me to look at the other floors of Turkish rugs but that didn’t happen. He was a real affable guy and we enjoyed the entertaining time spent here.

Onward to the Sulaymaniyah Mosque I had read about as being lovely we stepped out into the packed streets of the shopping corridor where vendors stores were hawking everything from wedding dresses to silk flowers, scissors to traditional dress costumes, shoes to pashminas – each store specializing in only one item. We wondered how they stay afloat with so many of them competing selling the same stuff.

Istanbul is built on hills and we were encountering our first one as we climbed up towards the Mosque with the reward being an incredible view!

The Sulaymaniyah Mosque is 500 years old and has stood through turmoil and earthquakes. It was beautiful inside, not lavish like the great cathedrals but had an understated elegance with stained glass windows, tile inlay, arches and domes and chandeliers that appeared to almost be floating. We came in just at the end of prayer where the men pray in the great room and the women pray in separate enclosed rooms all the way in the back of the building whose glass windows are covered over with a very intricate wood lattice work. Certainly interesting.

There was a volunteer tour guide there who approached us and gave us a quick history on the mosque. He spoke of America as following that of the Ottoman Empire and ruling many lands. He asked us, referring to us as brother and sisters, if we were religious to which Billy replied, “No, but spiritual.” Jenny and I also replied no but told him we respect and welcome everyone’s beliefs – to which he quickly agreed and went on and in about tolerance and respect but then went on to explain how Judaism is incorrect in this way and that way – so much for his speech on tolerance and people respecting one another.

We enjoyed the peaceful grounds of the Mosque and decided to go see another one. The second mosque Sehzade Camii, was similar to the first but had no other people in it when we visited which was a nice surprise.

Walking through the neighborhoods was very enjoyable. We haven’t been stared at like I thought we would, though I’m sure it is coming in Jordan. I have heard very little English spoken, seen only one tour group and felt like there aren’t many Westerners here that aren’t of Turkish origin. It has been very pleasant and we have felt welcomed every place we have stepped into.

Scenes from around town:

We decided since we were in Istanbul, we should see the Grand Bazaar – a legendary sight that is known for being overwhelming to the senses. As it turned out it was quiet and pleasant and the much hyped touts trying to get you to buy their rugs weren’t out in force. The bazaar has over 4,000 shops in it, employing more than 30,000 people. It is an indoor labyrinth of alleys and walkways that leave one confused as to how to get out! It’s a good thing we still have no luggage because Jenny saw so many boho things she knew would look “just perfect” in her room!

We stopped for snacks of kebabs and then headed to the famous Hafiz Mustafa for a box of baklava and other Turkish pastries of which the names and ingredients are unknown to us but the taste is sublime.

As we were walking back across the Galata Bridge, Billy erupted with how much he was “digging Istanbul.” He likes the vibe here – go figure. Once at the hotel we had hoped to find our luggage awaiting for us but to no avail. We enjoyed a drink in the top floor lounge overlooking the Bosphorous and Asian side of Istanbul until we could no longer stand the cigarette smoke – crazy it is still allowed here.

Dinner was at Ahente Para way way way up on the top of a long steep climb – one that really worked the glutes! We ordered a few mezze plates but found ourselves exhausted from our travels and lack of sleep.

Billy decided to head back to the hotel and Jenny and I went clothes shopping for all three of us. Our travel insurance had kicked in now so we stocked up on some basic essentials to get us through a few more days .

Back at the hotel Billy ran into a colleague from – Alcon. I swear he runs into people he knows at the craziest of destinations!

By the time Jenny and I got back it was almost 11:00. We walked 10 miles today and were completely wiped. The front desk guy said that the airlines told him our bags were coming on the flight that landed at 11:00 pm – fingers crossed!

February 19, 2020

Misunderstood Understandings

We ended up with a late start this morning, mostly due to me trying to get the blog done. I had given it my best effort last night but after multiple times of nodding off and lines of random letters being recorded, I succumbed to the demands of the sleep god and rapidly hit REM. Around 2:30AM both Jenny and I woke up by chance and watched as a large fire burned across the Golden Horn in the area we had walked around in yesterday.

It was 12:30 before we headed out and wouldn’t you know just as we were leaving, we were informed our luggage had arrived! Yippee!!!

We wasted no time making our way to the ferry terminal where we planned to catch a boat across the Bosphorous to an area known as Kadikoy. Since Istanbul is the only city in the world that spans two continents, we figured we should partake in its uniqueness and visit Asia today as well!

We were having a heck of a time trying to figure out the ticket machines when a nice young guy came over and helped us out. Everyone we have encountered in Turkey has been very friendly so far, well everyone that is except that jerk Mr. I am Turkish Airlines. Yeah! But who’s laughing now? We made that flight didn’t we? HA! And really, he wasn’t even in Turkey; he was probably just a bitter Londoner!

There were two adorable girls at the ferry terminal, maybe late teens early twenties who were handing out samples of, go figure but, Oral-B toothpaste. They asked us where we were from, then from what state. Their English was exceptionally broken but the one managed to tell us that her boyfriend has spent two summers working as a bartender in Connecticut of all places! As we walked away they high fived each other and giggled with delight over their ability to have a conversation with a few Yanks.

It was too bad a heavy mist hung low this morning as the views were wonderful and on a clear bluebird day I’m sure they would be spectacular.

The first thing that struck me shortly after we disembarked was almost none of the women on this side wore head wraps and there were plenty of short skirts, tight clothes and colorful hair. In my totally unscientific estimate I would say 85% of the women yesterday were covered and less than 5% today were – quite interesting.

We enjoyed a nice walk through a very nondescript area that happened to follow along the coastline. Once we got into the lee, it was downright warm to the point we had to take off our jackets. We delighted in the feel of the sun, the quiet leisurely pace and the removed feel of the local neighborhood area.

Kadikoy is known as the boho area of Istanbul, hence why we ventured there and while there was a very small area with that vibe, we wouldn’t have recognized it as such had we not been told. We enjoyed the street of vintage stores, purchasing a few postcards and a couple of old coins with holes drilled in them for Jenny.

We stopped for lunch, which really turned out to be an early dinner because by the time we were finished it was 4:30. The food was fine, nothing worth describing in detail or photographing but it did its job, especially after we had waited a ridiculous amount of time for it, watching every table that came in after us receive their food and we still waited… Billy remarked that that seemed to be the theme of our trip so far – “misunderstood understandings.”

We thought we had ordered our food but apparently we hadn’t; we thought (because we were told) our luggage was coming yesterday at 5:00PM but apparently it wasn’t; we were told we had confirmed seats on the Turkish Airlines flight but apparently we didn’t; we asked if the lip balm Jenny was buying was clear, we were told emphatically it was, but apparently it isn’t because after application Jenny looked like Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? Oh well c’est la vie!

As we walked along the bustling streets, we entered the market place area. It’s always so much fun seeing how the locals shop and what is clearly the important staples. There were your obligatory fruit and vegetable stalls, a few meat stalls, lots of fish stalls, olive and other brined items stalls and lots of delicious bread and pastry stalls. Billy was keen on going into the pastry stall when he saw the huge variety of cookies available. The guy behind the counter couldn’t have been cuter, insisting on giving us cookies to try before we bought some, and even asking to be in my picture. So fun and delicious and special.

We ended up running for the ferry back making it with exactly 8 seconds to spare (there’s a countdown clock as you board but don’t worry there was another one twenty minutes later but it seemed like a fun thing to do).

Back on the European side, we walked back across the Galata Bridge, this time on the lower level past the row of seafood restaurants on our left where the employees were standing waving their colorful, laminated picture menus, begging you to dine in their establishments. On our right were the lines and sinkers of the fisherman above. We had a good laugh about how much fun it would be to tug like hell on their lines leaving them to think they had caught a fish far larger than the seven-inchers their buckets were full of.

Walking into our room, we were all three giddy with excitement over the sight of our suitcases. We had made due just fine; none of us had complained. You can’t be a traveler and not be flexible. You can’t say you want to see the world and not be able to roll with the obstacles that inevitably accompany that desire. We could have missed out on two great days in Istanbul if we had focused on our missing suitcases. Instead, we dealt with the hand we were given and made the absolute best out of it – that’s the way we Merricks roll! But nonetheless, contact lenses, skincare products, and blue jeans were a welcome sight!

Jenny and I went out for a quick “photo shoot,” leaving wiped out Billy relaxing in bed. There was a cool area we had seen from the breakfast room above and so we went to go find it even though the sun was pretty much set.

We found some other street art while we were out too.

By 7:30 Billy was asleep, and Jenny wasn’t far behind. I, on the other hand, was nowhere near ready for bedtime. I cancelled our dinner reservation and decided to go for a walk to get some better, closer nighttime pictures of the mosques. I ventured to just the other side of the Galata Bridge, enjoying the walk and vibrancy of this city. The fisherman were still out, though not in the numbers we saw in the daytime and loads of people were walking every which way.

It was a great day in Istanbul. We were on two continents in a matter of four hours – how could you not love that? Because of our delay, our itinerary of planned visits got messed up. The sights I had originally planned to see on Monday are best seen early in the AM before the crowds arrive – that wasn’t an option for us jet lagged fools on Monday. And those same sights were closed today on Tuesday. We have tomorrow, most of the day as our flight to Amman isn’t until 9:15PM, so that’s our plan for tomorrow. Up and out early but… I know how that goes… so we will see!

And a few more random photos from our walk about today:

That’s a Cat on Top of the Vine-Covered Tree

February 20, 2020

The Biggies

It was an early morning for us today- out the door just before 9:00. We used the leftover money on our travel card from the ferry to grab the tram to Sultanahmet; what a nice and convenient way to travel.

Today was going to be a day of Istanbul biggies- the famous landmarks everyone says you must see. The weather was chilly with overcast skies and rain forecast in the near future but we figured we could knock most of the sights out before the skies opened up.

Our first of four stops was the Blue Mosque built in the early 1600s for Sultan Ahmed I. It has six minarets and five main domes. The inside was similar in design to the mosques we went to on the first day but on a much grander scale with more mosaic tile work. It is difficult to appreciate the full beauty of the inside of the mosques because as visitors, we are relegated to the very back and can’t walk around much of the inside.

It’s interesting how many mosques there are in Istanbul- 3,113 according to my research! It seems everywhere you look, there’s a mosque. It kind of reminded us of all the churches on Santorini.

Our next stop was the Hagia Sophia whose name means “holy wisdom.” It was originally built as a cathedral in Constantinople (now Istanbul) in the sixth century A.D. but has also served as a mosque and is now a museum. When it was first constructed, Constantinople was the capital of the Byzantine Empire. This state, officially Christian, originally formed the eastern half of the Roman Empire and carried on after the fall of Rome. It only became predominantly Muslim after 1925.

Unfortunately, the inside is undergoing extensive renovation with half of its interior covered in scaffolding and cloth covers but what we could see was simply stunning. The stone floors with their 1400 years of history have been worn smooth, especially the marble thresholds that have depressions in them now. The stained glass windows, iron work and intricately painted tiles were a real sight to behold. The beauty of it all was there were very few people to contend with – a real treat for sure!

From there we walked across the street to the Basilica Cistern, an underground chamber that more often than not is filled with water, but this time it was almost dry. The cistern was dark and very damp as one might expect with the constant dripping of water from the ceilings above. There are hundreds of stone columns and arches holding up the earth above that have been lit in a delicate way giving the place an almost romantic feel.

On our way to our final stop we passed this gal wearing a vest that said “Security” on it. We were cracking up that she was probably imported from the States and someone thought they were getting themselves some ferocious pit bull but instead ended up with this precious beast who was desperate for Jenny to pet her and who was just as desperate to climb the gate and love on her…

Our fourth stop on the Istanbul biggies tour was Topkapi Palace. We were very pleasantly surprised to see no lines at all to buy tickets. I had read to get there early, before all the tour groups, and you could have the place to yourselves so we didn’t dilly dally this morning!

I had also read to make your way to the Harem first so as to also not contend with all of the tour groups. As it turned out not only did we not have to contend with any tour groups, we didn’t have to contend with anybody else at all. Us and one other family of three were the only ones we saw – a super duper treat!

The harem is a large complex made up of baths and chambers, courtyards and passageways, with a few large “meeting” rooms interspersed. While only a few pieces of furniture are in here the highlight is the simply gorgeous mosaic tile work, intricate mother of pearl inlay and gold leaf accents all making a lavish feast for the eyes.

We wandered the rest of the grounds of the palace, popping our heads into some of the various buildings – housing the likes of antique armors, clocks and watches as well as artifacts and relics sacred to the Islamic faith, including a gold cast of a footprint of the prophet Mohammed.

By this time the forecasted rain began to fall and the thought of wandering the streets, getting drenched and being cold, did not appeal. We were relieved to see that our early plan was a good idea because upon exiting the serpentine of ropes for purchasing tickets were completely full now! Yeah us!

The fun thing about Istanbul, for Billy especially and today’s stops in particular are that James Bond “From Russia with Love” was partially filmed here. He was so excited when Jenny told him about the filming locations. He is a huge 007 fan and watching the movies is one of his and Jenny’s favorite pastimes.

We used up the last of the money on our travel card for a tram ride back, deciding to just go back to the hotel where we could relax and enjoy lunch upstairs overlooking the Bosphorous, Golden Horn and the Hagia Sofia before heading to the airport for our flight to Amman. We had a delicious meal, excellent service and really enjoyed having the entire dining room to ourselves.

Back in the room, we decided a nap was in order as we were all beyond tired. The room has been too warm for us every night and none of us have had our best sleep. Couple that with days of travel, a change of eight time zones, miles of walking, and keeping some crazy hours and voilà, we all passed out.

Once at the airport we marveled again at just how enormous this building is. Billy said he doesn’t think he’s ever been in a space that’s as big as this. It was interesting because security is right when you walk in the door, the first security checkpoint that is. I am assuming that is in response to the terrorist bombing that took place at the old Istanbul airport lobby a few years ago. Of course something in Billy’s bags got flagged and they spent quite some time determining if he could fly with a lighter or not – ever the boy scout he is. What I can’t believe they didn’t take was his rather large pocketknife. They seemed more interested in his nail kit. I suppose if it had been in his carryon, he would have lost it at the second x-ray screening.

On the car ride up to the airport, Billy reiterated how much he liked Istanbul. He said the lay out of the city, the history and the culture made for a really fascinating few days. Of all the places my maternal grandparents traveled to, Istanbul had been their favorite. Funny that it seems to be one of Billy’s too. Jenny and I both really liked it as well. For a quick visit we got a good taste and experienced things we have never before, especially the mosques and heavily muslim culture. We never once felt the least bit unsafe or unwelcome nor did we feel like we were intruders in their world. Istanbul sits at the crossroads of not only two continents but two very different cultures. It really is a captivating city and one we would all gladly return to to explore in more depth.

October 22, 2019

“Why Riga?”

Leaving The Netherlands after eleven days was sad for me and beyond difficult for Jenny. Our time spent with our “family” there was very special and once again, the hospitality went beyond! Billy joined us for the final two nights which was wonderful as he get to see everyone again and meet new people he had never met before.  

Some Highlights from our trip:

A trip to my father’s childhood home

 

Jenny and her boyfriend Thies standing in The Netherlands, Belgium and Germany!

 

Giethoorn

Heusden

 

The funny thing is everyone kept asking us, “Why Riga?” Well, you know us, we go places that aren’t as on the beaten path but that wasn’t the reason this time. Billy has always said he wants to go to Riga but when you ask Billy, “Why Riga?” He really is not too sure why. He thinks it came from a book he read once. So we don’t really know why Riga but we are nonetheless excited for two new countries and in an area that we haven’t been to before.

Our flight from Eindhoven to Riga on Wizz Air was a breeze. Wizz Air is a low-cost Hungarian airline and while the seats and interior felt pretty worn, the female pilot did a great job getting us through some pretty good turbulence and rough landing conditions! 

 I was prepared for our arrival in Riga by previously downloading the Bolt app (the Latvian equivalent to Uber). I had read all about how badly the taxis scam you here and was glad to see it reconfirmed by the signs posted everywhere in the luggage claim area. Our Bolt driver spoke no English but lucky for me he spoke Spanish so communicating was no problem. Unlucky for us was when we were just nearing the Airbnb rental, Jenny gasped and started digging through her back pack. Of course my heart started pounding as I am asking her what she was looking for-my thought is her passport. Turned out it was not her passport but her raincoat which she left on the plane along with her wallet, driver’s license, debit card and 50 euro in it.

We dropped our bags at the apartment and set out to find some food and wifi so we could figure out how to see if the coat was turned in at Lost and Found. After some initial challenges, Billy got through to the airport in Riga and shocking to us, they had Jenny’s coat and her wallet. Billy volunteered to go back to the airport to get it while Jenny and I grabbed some supplies for the apartment.

After our early morning, we all took a quick nap and chilled for a bit before heading out for dinner at Neiburgs. It was a very quiet evening, but our dinners were quite good and we enjoyed the walk back home through the winding cobblestoned streets of Riga. Our brief introduction to Riga certainly left us intrigued and we laid out plans for what we would like to visit over our next two days.

October 23, 2019

“Getting to Know Riga”

Our Airbnb is quite spacious and very nice-two bedrooms, two bathrooms in an old historic building with exposed brick walls and wooden beams. It was very inexpensive (like $80 a night) and is really perfect with one caveat-it is located one floor above a bar where they party hard until 2:00 AM (4:00 AM on the weekends).

Those are our bedroom windows above the doors!

The noise level was hovering at tolerable as we all fell asleep last night but it escalated as the night progressed and as such, we all slept in a bit this morning. I went out for coffee but returned to let Jenny try and get caught up on some school work. We didn’t end up heading out until almost noon and of course by that time we were hungry.

Jenny had wanted to go to the Central Market, so we decided that would make a great first stop. The Central Market is housed in and around five 1930’s era German Zeppelin hangars. Each one houses a mainstay of the diet-fruit and vegetables in one, fish in another, meat in another, breads and dairy in the other with the fifth one’s interior currently under construction. A stop at a local market is always top on Jenny’s list of things to do while we are in foreign lands. She always says there is nothing like seeing the foods that people eat to give you an even better insight to their culture. 

We stopped in the food court first to fill our bellies with some local cuisine before making our way through the stalls.

We joked about how unbelievably fresh the fish were, literally trying to launch themselves from the water tanks behind the display cases while their brethren lay gasping for air having been recently laid out on beds of shaved ice. I always think the markets will end up bothering Jenny but she really accepts them for the bastions of culture that they are-even tolerating seeing all the parts of her beloved piggies on display (I will spare you the pictures)!

Fish roe

The second one from the bottom had us laughing and guessing what kind of cuisine exactly they would serve until Billy suggested perhaps it was food from the Caucasus Region-duh!

After the market, we decided to stay in and around the immediate area of Old Town Riga. Riga was founded as a port town in 1201 and UNESCO has designated its Old Town as one of their sites of culture. We figured we would wander through the streets and turn here and there as interest captured us, but we also had a few planned stops for the day.

The first was to go to the top of the tower of Saint Peter’s Church. The original church had been totally destroyed during WWII, so the current edifice was built thereafter however, it was still lovely inside with its mostly brick nave and dark wooden altar. But the real gem was the view from the top! Wow! So nice with all of the red tile roofs and the spires from the many churches. The juxtaposition of old and new actually worked, for the most part and only seemed to interrupt one vantage point.

You can see Central Market

Our walk from there took on a mind of its own as we weaved in and out of twisted cobblestoned streets, turning down ones that were photogenic or appeared to have something of great interest at the other end.

We stopped by the Swedish Gate, the only gate of the Old Town wall that still stands today, and so named for the courageous Swedes who protected Riga in 1710 during the siege of the Russian Empire.

We stopped for cappuccinos and a sweet (or two) along the way before coming to the second planned stop of the day-the Museum of the Occupation of Latvia. 

The Museum is being temporarily housed in the former American Embassy. A note on the door warning one that they would need to heave the doors open was the only outward sign of the building’s former purpose. Apparently following 9-11, the embassy beefed up its security with bullet proof doors that are still in use as the museum has decided to keep them as a reminder to all who enter of current world tensions.

The museum was somber, to say the least. We certainly didn’t expect it to be uplifting but wow, it was a shocking narrative. Latvia was brutally occupied for over fifty years, from 1940-1991, by both Germany and the Soviet Union, losing more than 1/3 of its indigenous population during that time. A horrible time in world history; a time that should never be forgotten. Their hopes for independence were realized in 1989 when the “Baltic Way” (a human chain of more than 2 million people, holding hands through the three Baltic States of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania) brought world wide attention to their plight-a true testament to the strength of man’s determination.

From the museum we walked on passed the National Theater and Riga Castle (closed to the public now) and on to the “Three Brothers” some of the oldest buildings (early 16th century) still standing in Riga. We headed back towards the apartment, stopping for another cappuccino and by this time a cocktail for us before making our way to the apartment to chill for an hour or so before heading for dinner.

Riga Castle

Three Brothers

Our dinner this evening at Restorans 1221 was delicious. We actually couldn’t stomach dessert as we had stuffed ourselves with appetizers and entrees.

After dinner, we enjoyed another walk home through the charming streets.

St Peters Church

Jenny went to do some school work and Billy and I went to the Armoury Bar under our apartment to see what it is all about. As soon as we sat down at the bar, the bartender took our order and then asked Billy if he wanted to see an Uzi-a decommissioned one but still. There was something uncomfortable about sitting in a bar while handguns and uzis were being crossed across the bar-even they no longer have their firing pins! Not something you would ever see in the States-that’s for sure!

Some of our observations from today were:

-Dark shoes are the footwear of choice-Jenny and I certainly stood out in our white sneakers!

-The Latvians are serious, the restaurant workers show little enthusiasm or friendliness, though we have managed to sway a few with our sincere enthusiasm

-Navigating through the crowds of locals is a bit challenging-they don’t concede any space and they exchange no pleasantries with you along the way

-We are bike rider deprived-no one rides a bike here!

We have enjoyed Riga so far. It is a beautiful city with lots of charm. Wandering the Old Town has felt perfectly safe-even crossing over into the Central Market area was not a problem. The weather has held out for us. After almost eleven constant days of rain in The Netherlands, Riga has remained dry, albeit chilly. The Baltics in October was a BIG gamble weather wise-so far so good even with snow in the forecast for next week! Fingers crossed for us!

 

October 24, 2019

“Another Day of Reflection and Uplift”

This morning was another later start, and after a breakfast at a semi-decent bakery, we headed out for our planned trip. Our morning consisted of grey skies again, a bit of a bummer as it really does create a bit of a somber feeling here, but still we were glad it was not raining, as we had expected to be the case.

Our first stop was the Freedom Monument which was erected in 1935 and has been Riga’s central landmark for almost a century-amazingly surviving Latvia’s occupations and WWII. It is a roughly 130 foot tall granite and copper work of art with the top depicting a woman holding up three golden stars, which represent Latvia’s unification of the historical regions of Kurzeme, Vidzeme, and Latgale. There is a two man honor guard standing watch at the base of the monument.

Our next stop was the Riga Nativity of Christ Cathedral, the largest Orthodox church in Riga, originally opened in 1884. It is a work of art from the outside and although the cathedral has survived both world wars, in the early 1960s Soviet authorities closed the cathedral and converted it into a planetarium, called the Republic House of Knowledge. The restoration back to house of worship began in the late 1990s and today it has been restored to its former glory.

We entered and were immediately struck by the singing and chanting going on somewhere where we could not see the participants. As we approached closer, we realized there was a funeral taking place. There were seven mourners standing alongside the body of an elderly gentleman while three men and two women, clearly of the church, sang songs and chanted prayers of some kind-the sounds were mesmerizing. 

Jenny has never seen a deceased person before, so for her, it was almost hypnotizing listening to the beauty of the rhythms, echoing through these chambers and watching the man lie in view for all who entered the sacred house to see. She was really captivated by it, in a peaceful, empathetic sense; and believe it or not, it was hard for both of us to pull ourselves away from the scene.

From there we set our sights on one of two planned destinations for today, a museum known as the “Corner House”-the former KGB Operative Headquarters in Riga. So as most everybody knows, we are not museum goers in the traditional sense, but there are museums that tend to catch our fancy; this being one of them.

We arrived having missed the last English tour by 15 minutes. The next scheduled tour was going to be in Latvian, so we decided instead to look into the exhibition prepared on the first floor which tells the story about the activity of the State Security Committee (KGB), during the occupation of Latvia.

When I suggested to Jenny we would have to skip the tour of the basement and cell blocks as the following 2:00 tour was in Latvian, with the subsequent English tour not being held until 3:00, she said we should take the Latvian tour-even if we would have no idea what was being said, at least we could see it. I understood at this point, that she really wanted to see what this place was all about, and I will admit, I was not surprised given her future interests in career paths. So, I approached the tour guides to let them know that despite our lack of the Latvian language, we would be taking the 2:00 tour whether we could understand a lick of what they were saying or not. They looked at me as though I was crazy but I explained that we would rather see it than not, to at least have an understanding of what happened here and with that, they kindly offered that if no one showed up for the 2:00 tour, they would give it to us in English-and so it was!

In 1940-1941 and 1944-1990, chekists (aka KGB officers) imprisoned, interrogated and, executed citizens who were considered to be opponents to the occupation regime here, inside the Corner House. Over 47,000 people were imprisoned here at one time or another. 

Both Jenny and I steadied ourselves with deep breaths as we descended into the depths of prison cells, where unspeakable atrocities took place. To take the time to describe what these people endured would require pages of script. Suffice it to say, in the most simplistic, yet respectful way possible, it was sheer hell. 

Our visit to the Corner House was a revelation on Latvia’s recent past. Yesterday our tour of the Museum of the Occupation of Latvia was somber, today our tour was haunting-yet actually fascinating in a macabre sort of way. The tour serves as a memorial for those who suffered within those walls; a disturbing reminder of a dark period in the city’s history that as I mentioned yesterday, and was reiterated by our guide today-should NEVER be forgotten nor repeated.

The good news was once we emerged from the depths of the cell blocks, the sun was shining and the sky was a brilliant blue! What a profound feeling it was to walk out from the dark, dank cellars of this building into the fresh air and sunshine-it certainly gave us a whole new respect for our freedom and offered us the chance to reflect on the few who might have been as lucky, but more than likely, were not…

We had to go back for pictures of the church with the now blue sky!

In the early 1900’s Riga became the European city with the highest concentration of Art Nouveau architecture with around 50 Art Nouveau buildings of high architectural value in the medieval part and more than 300 in the rest of the Historic Centre. Seeing these buildings was our intended next stop. While the buildings are scattered throughout Riga, there is one area in particular that holds the largest concentration of these particular architectural gems.

We all really enjoyed this mental uplift from the museum we had just left. But, it was closing in on 4:30 and we were all getting a little tired of being on our feet and a bit thirsty. We stumbled upon an ultra cozy bar where we grabbed some beers, fries and cappuccinos while watching a rerun of the Vuelta de España bike race and then a vicious, yet almost comical match of USA vs China in table tennis. 

Our dinner reservations were for 7:00 so after our drinks, we hightailed it back to the apartment, to shower and change before making our way to dinner at Rozengrals. This is the sort of venue we would NEVER attend-a medieval-themed restaurant where the servers are in costume but the setting had been too much to pass on and the reviews had actually been quite good. As it turned out, the setting was stellar, the food was OK but the service was beyond subpar. We certainly did not let it wreck our evening and to recover from it, we grabbed a scrumptious dessert in an equally enchanting setting!

 

Our two days in Riga has been perfect. There would be no reason to spend a third, unless we left the city. The sun coming out today and the blue skies lent a different all around feel for us. They say the city is dying on the vine, that the residents, especially the younger ones are fleeing. It seems evident in the lack of pedestrian populations you encounter on the streets. The one thing that has been so nice, is the complete lack of tourists-especially the ones with the selfie sticks. The Bolt driver told Billy that Americans never come to Riga-we are not too sure why but we certainly did not mind being in the supposed, very limited minority. 

Tomorrow we hope to see more of the country as we take a three hour bus ride from Riga to Vilnius, Lithuania. 

October 25, 2019

“Vilnius by Bus”

We walked to the bus station this morning, pulling our suitcases behind us, feeling a bit like vagabonds as we stopped in the grocery store to stock up on provisions for our four hour bus ride. We got to the station about 30 minutes early, where we sat back and watched people come and go-I honestly believe we were the only foreigners there and certainly the only Americans.

Our Lux Express bus was only half full and it lived up to its name. For 28 Euro a piece, we had large recliner chairs, wifi, monitors in the seat back for games or shows, and coffee service-a deal we all thought. 

The route to Vilnius is pretty much direct but not on a highway like one would expect. Instead, we travelled on two lane roads the whole way. We were a bit surprised there was no highway between the two capitals and wondered why. A highspeed highway would probably cut the travel time down in half when you take out the time for slowing for roundabouts, left turners and stoplights. 

The countryside was sparsely populated and we only passed through a couple small towns and even smaller villages. We saw few people out; even the designated bike lanes were completely devoid of any riders. The landscape shifted back and forth between vast fields of farmland and forests of pine and birch. Except for two major rivers, there were no other real waterways crossed. 

The weather was dreadful-about as close to raining as it could get without actual drops falling from the sky, leaving the view obscured beyond a few hundred meters, making it difficult to get a good feeling for what the countryside actually looked like. 

Fields of yellow flowers-can’t you see them?

The bus ride was uneventful, thank goodness as I had my concerns about Jenny or I getting motion sick, but we were both perfectly fine.

Arrival in Vilnius was to building after building of Soviet-era block style apartment housing-not quite so welcoming. But it quickly gave way to a more modern and built up city with an actual downtown. Compared to Riga, we saw fewer rundown areas housing equally rundown homes that once shone in wealth and glory. And just an interesting side note that Jenny came across-those Soviet-era housing neighborhoods were used in filming the disturbing but riveting miniseries, Chernobyl.

At one point, the bus pulled into a parking area, came to a stop and people started getting off. Billy and I started wondering if maybe we were supposed to get off too. We decided I should ask before we ended up somewhere we weren’t supposed to be like Belarus. The driver said something I couldn’t understand and then, “Next stop, coach station.” OK the coach station must be the bus station so on we went. 

After arriving at the central bus station, we hailed a Bolt and made our way to the old town section of Vilnius where our hotel for the next three nights is located. Hotel Pacai, a Marriott Autograph Collection Hotel is a new hotel built in seventeenth century buildings. It was such a great point redemption that it made it difficult to justify paying for an Airbnb. 

The Hotel

Our immediate reaction was that old town Vilnius is more upscale than Riga-it is far more refined with the sidewalks in good repair and the buildings all polished off just so. There appears to be more wealth here with stores housing names like Burberry and Prada. Jenny said that Vilnius is the biggest tech startup hub in the Baltics and has one of the most advanced broadband systems in all of the EU, making sense for the clear difference in outward wealth between the two cities.

After grabbing showers, we headed over to D’eco Restaurant for dinner. It received great reviews and was right around the corner. Dinner was very good, service was a bit uneven and it was the first place we have been where there was a spot on the slip to add a tip-highly uncommon in the EU where they actually pay their employees a living wage.

When we emerged from dinner, the mist had lifted and the stars were starting to come out. We are hoping tomorrow will bring clearer skies for us to set out and explore old town!

 

October 26, 2019

“Vilnius/Riga, Vilnius/Riga”

Wishes for a day of blue skies was not to come true but it wasn’t raining and wasn’t nearly as gloomy as yesterday-so we will take it! After a nice simple breakfast at a cute kind of tacky cafe, we started off for our self-made foot tour of Vilnius using points on a tourist map to make our way along.

Vilnius Historic Centre is also a UNESCO World Heritage Sight. With its beginnings around 1000 AD, but with no real town being developed until the 13th century, by the 15th century Vilnius was the capital of the largest country in Europe, the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.

There is definitely a difference between Old Town Riga and Old Town Vilnius-the streets here are wider and more open. There are many more people here and lots of tourists groups taking walking tours-but none with the dreaded selfie sticks. There is more color worn and more friendly faces though Vilnius has just as much a shocking and disturbing past as Riga.

In September 1941, two ghettos were established in old town Vilnius. The larger ghetto housed about 30,000 Jews, mostly skilled laborers and specialists. while the smaller housed 10,000, mostly elderly and the incapacitated. Three months later, the occupants of the smaller ghetto had been completely eradicated and this ghetto ceased to exist. From December 1941 until September 1943, the remaining occupants of the larger ghetto were spared as they were forced into labor but on Sept 23 and 24, the ghetto was emptied forcing the 14,000 occupants into concentration camps and labour camps. In early July 1944 the Red Army approached Vilnius and the last remaining Jews were killed off. When the Nazi occupation was done, only 2,000-3,000 Vilnius Jews had survived from the pre-occupation numbers of 50,000. If that doesn’t give one pause as they walk through the streets, not too sure what could; lest, again, we should never forget.

We entered the Orthodox Church here to draw comparisons to the one in Riga. It is simply fascinating just how ornate they are inside. Jenny said that of all the house of worship she has ever entered, which surprisingly has been a lot, she thinks she enjoys the Orthodox Churches the most.

We wound our way along, exiting the old town through the Gate of Dawn and turning down a pretty nondescript road where we did encounter many buildings that were pretty rundown.

We came across an abandoned church-St. Church of the Heart of Jesus, completed in 1756. It was a great photo op and we all wished we could have a look inside, but alas…

This area of Vilnius was seeing a lot of construction in the form of refurbishment of old buildings, that I’m sure will one day be beautiful apartments. Off to the side, was a small park with the remains of an early 17th century walled fortification and a stunning view beyond. Unlike Riga, Vilnius is built partially into hills.

In looking at the map, I realized we were looking down over an area of Vilnius Jenny had just been telling me about a few minutes previous.

The Republic of Užupis is Vilnius’ boho and artistic enclave. It had at one time been the roughest neighborhood in Vilnius and home to the red light district.

Nowadays it sports artsy scenes and a rather independent vibe.

It has its own president, flag, and constitution (a pretty whacky one at that), which is displayed in over twenty languages along the wall of one of the main streets.

The Constitution Plates

The hand with the hole means no bribes can be taken. This is their flag.

Walking past a cute eatery, we saw people noshing on delicious looking pizzas, the kind whose uneven crust looks to have been formed with love and whose edges were darkened in just the perfect amount of places, so we decided to stop for some. It ws a nice spot, sitting outside-a tad chilly but the heaters were on so we were all comfortable, and the pizza was delicious.

After lunch, we made stops at more churches and then on to the Palace of the Grand Dukes and Cathedral Basilica then turning back down into the heart of old town and on to the hotel. In Riga, we had covered about five miles a day, here we came in just under 4 miles.

Jenny and I picked up our computers and headed out to a coffee house to get some work done while Billy showered and napped. We enjoyed our lattes and cappuccinos and a hot chocolate that was really nothing more than a cup of melted chocolate that we had to use a spoon to eat it. Talk about a sugar high!

We had a nice dinner again, in a small restaurant, down a charming street. Jenny was psyched as she is three nights for three with having carpaccio!

Jenny and I have decided we like Riga better than Vilnius. Riga feels more authentic and cozier; It’s more edgy and raw, with few tourists. It feels like it is meant to be lived in with more cafes and coffee shops and less trinket stores. Vilnius is lovely, with an incredible diversity of architecture that surprisingly escaped much damage from occupation. But Riga wins out for us. And what about Billy? He said to ask him when we get home.

 

October 27, 2019

“A Visit to the Countryside”

Our skies this morning were cloudy but showed some promise of clearing. We woke earlier than what has been normal as we had breakfast plans this morning. Last night, walking home from dinner we passed a place called Holy Donut, and as you all know-we love our donuts! It’s amazing the things Jenny will rise and shine early for!

Jenny and I headed out first to secure a table and some donuts just in case this place is some sort of cult favorite. We snagged the last table inside, ordered up four donuts to split between us all plus an açai bowl for me. Billy joined in shortly thereafter, as the line was forming out the door, and we indulged in the Lithuanian version of donuts-a bit dense but good, with the star being the cinnamon donut followed by the apple fritter.

And look…blue sky!

Returning to the hotel to drop off our computers after Jenny spent some time working on schoolwork, Billy suggested we go out to Trakai to see the castle. We had only been in the city since arriving, beside our fog shrouded drive from Riga to Vilnius, so a trip to the countryside sounded nice.

Us just being silly waiting for the Bolt driver

Our Bolt driver picked us up right in front of the hotel and as soon as we got in, he asked us where we were from. When we told him the US he asked, “Chicago?” We told him no and then he asked, “Arkansas?”… Arkansas? Where did that come from-nobody ever throws that one out there. Turns out his son had gone to the University of Arkansas, and he had gone to visit him there, along with Chicago and Colorado-a rather eclectic mix of places.

Along the Drive

The drive to Trakai took about 35 minutes and both Jenny and I were feeling pretty car sick by the time we arrived. We were happy to be on solid ground but disappointed to see the ridiculous amount of people there-almost all families with lots of children. As we walked along there was an accordion player playing for money and a younger woman stopped to give hime change. When he spoke to her in Lithuanian, she said, “Sorry I only speak English.” He asked where she was from and she replied, “America.” To which he starting playing America the Beautiful-a touching experience!

The Trakai Island Castle was first built in the 14th century, though it was almost completely destroyed during the 17th century and left to rubble before being renovated and rebuilt, beginning in the 19th century. It looks almost completely new and while it was architecturally pleasing, the rest of it was ho-hum. Funny thing is Jenny had said that the castles she has seen on our recent trips to Europe have left her disappointed-add this one to the list.

We spent all of 45 minutes there before we called for a Bolt driver to take us back to Vilnius-and wouldn’t you know it was Arkansas!

Once back in town, we grabbed a snack and drinks while the rain began to fell. We had been very lucky up to this point so as we sat inside and watched the people pass by the windows of a local cafe, with their umbrellas and head scarves, we were content.

We returned to the hotel to shower and let Jenny get more work done (can you tell that perhaps she didn’t get as much work done in The Netherlands as she should have) before making our way to Gaspar’s for dinner.

The restaurant was about a 1/2 mile walk from our hotel, in a direction we had not been yet, through quite winding streets. It always amazes me walking down these dark roads that we pass so many single women walking down them-you would never see that in any city in the US.

Gaspar’s is an Indian influenced restaurant, and our meals of chicken tikka, curry, schnitzel in Indian spices, etc were outstanding. Jenny declared it the best meal of our stay in the Baltics, and Billy agreed. The only problem was we stuffed ourselves and our walk back home was done to some moaning and groaning.

We leave early tomorrow for a final night in The Netherlands. Our original plan was to spend our final night in Amsterdam to check out the University of Amsterdam, but Jenny decided it wasn’t necessary. We had made a quick trip to the University of Leiden earlier in the trip to attend an info session on the International Relations Program they offered, and Jenny decided that was the place. We also looked at University of Groningen, which she also liked but Leiden has all the academics she wants. So, because none of us are fans of Amsterdam, we decided to spend some more time in Leiden seeing the sights and more of the University, as well as for Billy to get a chance to see it since he was not with us on our earlier trip.

The great news for Jenny, is Thies is going to join us, which of course we are looking forward to it as well!

October 28, 2019

“Charming Leiden”

It was a very early wake up call this morning-5:00 AM-to get to the airport in time. We had no idea what to expect as far as traffic, lines, etc and since it was Monday morning, we thought better to play it safe. Turned out, we were more than good-the Vilnius airport was dead. We laughed at the flight information board-it was extremely antiquated-more like a train station than the modern tv screens used today in most of the airports of the Western world.

Our flight was on Air Baltic today, the flagship carrier from Latvia. The flight was fairly full but comfortable enough for my crew to sleep!

I couldn’t get over all the wind turbines I could see as we approached Denmark-there were hundreds of them in the sea and hundreds more once we crossed over the land-wow!

A rainbow for us upon landing!

As soon as exited baggage claim, Jenny and I went to find us some golden bottles of the brown chocolatey goodness known as Chocomel.

Billy found Thies in the main hall of the airport and we all set out on the train to Leiden. 20 minutes later we arrived. walked the ten minutes to our hotel, Hotel d’Oude Morsch-a refurbished army mess hall right at the old gate to enter Leiden.

We dropped our bags and Billy and I headed out one way, while Thirs and Jenny headed another way. As typical for us, we just walked along with no real destination in mind except to see more of the town Jenny hopes to call home for the next three years.

Leiden is a beyond charming town, with all the character of Amsterdam but none of the crowds of tourists. It is a college town, the university having been found in 1575 with one in ten people being a student. It is architecturally rich with many of its 17th century buildings still in tact, along with earlier centuries-some dating to the late 14th century. It also boasts itself as the birthplace of Rembrandt as well as the place the Pilgrims originated their trip from-yes those Pilgrims-who knew they were living in Leiden when they decided to depart for new lands.

Billy and I enjoyed walking through the town, stopping eventually for a delicious lunch of the traditional Dutch foods of bitterballen and uitsmijters.

We stopped in a church where I lit a candle for my dad, the last of many lit in every town of our trip. I told him I was sorry he wasn’t here to see Jenny and hear about her future plans of hoping to attend university in The Netherlands but more importantly that she was head over heels for a Dutch boy and one from the family from some of our oldest and dearest friends-my dad would be beyond tickled and so proud! Lots of things came together this summer for all of this to be happening-some good, some bad but it was all serendipitous, because we are walking the canals of Leiden right now.

Right after leaving the church, walking on a quieter side street, rounding the corner we ran into Thies and Jenny, smiling and holding hands-so nice! They have covered just about as much as ground as us (six miles when it was all said and done) and were headed to have coffee with Thies’ old Latin teacher who is now a law professor at the University here.

We returned to the hotel to relax and clean up for dinner. Thies and Jenny joined us for a nice meal at Waag, a building dating from the 16th century that once was the customs house. Dinner was good and both Billy and I enjoyed spending time with just Thies and Jenny together.

Our walk back was full of laughs as Jenny was hitting her after dinner high. I love that she doesn’t have concerns over being silly or worries what other people will think. In this day of everybody being so concerned about getting “likes” and being on trend, it’s refreshing to see her carefree spirit.

We had a great family trip. The Baltics were great to see-so unique with all of the Soviet influence but unlike Slovenia, I feel no draw to return. Our trip to The Netherlands was wonderful on so many levels and deeply meaningful in a very personal sort of way. To quote a woman I adore, life is “Prima.” For Jenny especially, except when it’s time to say goodbye…

May 18, 2019

Bellissimo Venezia

It will be ten years next month that my father passed away. There is hardly a day that goes by that I don’t think of him, miss him desperately and think of what fun he and Jenny would have together. They were kindred spirits, what with their adventurous streaks, both always up for a good time.

They also shared their patriotism. My father was a proud American; the flag flew everyday at our home growing up-it was raised with our morning coffee and lowered at sunset, with little fail. But as proud as my dad was to be to be an American, he still had devotion to the Netherlands and was a Dutchman at heart, always rooting orange, blue and white!

So for multiple reasons, I decided to go to the Netherlands this year. I wanted to take Jenny back to a place where a quarter of her roots are from. A place I have such fond memories of. A place where so many dear friends of our family live. A place my dad’s 92 years old twin brother still resides. A place where I could feel close to my dad in a manner that is different then when I return to Greer. I wanted to spend time with people who are as comfortable as an old pair of jeans and as fun to be with as watching “Elf” at Christmas time. I wanted Jenny to experience it as well, now that she is old enough to remember it and mature enough to appreciate it.

So our initial plan was to go to the Netherlands, to reconnect with family and friends, to check out some colleges and to deliver to the Dutch Resistance Museum in Amsterdam, something that had belonged to my father, that we found in an aged folder, in a half-broken file cabinet drawer in the storage room in Greer. It was something we believed should be preserved and the best place for it was the museum dedicated to those who served in the Resistance. My father and grandfather both played key roles in this organization, an incredibly dangerous position that so many honorable men and women took, rarely ever having spoken of their service, fading into history at the close of the war, while to this day still almost completely unrecognized for their service to mankind.

So we set out to go to Eindhoven but during the planning realized that while we were there, we might as well take advantage of the opportunity to see another country. We had the time, so I let Jenny choose and she chose Slovenia, a country that was formed from the former Yugoslavia that just happens to be drop dead gorgeous, at least from the images we saw online. It is off the tourist grid for now, no cruise ships dock there and it appeared to have everything that we tend to enjoy in a foreign country, including some of Europe’s best fly fishing! 

Slovenia is a not-too-easy-to-reach place when originating from the US, with out having to either make multiple stops or pay a hefty fare-neither of which was appealing, so I found the best alternative I could. I would get us as close to Slovenia as possible, making only one stop and keeping the price within check, since this flight would not be a miles redemption flight. We would fly into Italy!

Arrival into Marco Polo airport after sitting in cramped, hard-as-rock seats, for almost twelve hours was a bit of a bummer as it was raining. We had seen the forecast before we departed so while we were not surprised, we were not prepared to have our raincoats in our carry on bag because arriving into Venice is like arriving to the islands-deplane directly onto the tarmac. Immigration was the snappiest we have ever encountered anywhere and our bags were already spinning on the carousel when we walked into baggage claim. We were out the door and handing over our prepaid voucher for our speedboat ride from the airport to the door of the Hotel Danieli within 30 minutes of touchdown!

The skies had let up and while still overcast and dreary, we were able to pop out from the cabin and watch as Venice came into view-the scenery was gorgeous and we certainly felt like we were in a Bond movie, speeding along the lagoon in a private shuttle.

The salmon colored building is the Hotel Danieli.

We were whisked into reception where, based on Trip Advisor reviews, I was anticipating a cool reception, but to the contrary. We were warmly greeted, thanked for our loyalty to Marriott, and assured there would be no additional charge for the third person. We knew ahead of time we had been upgraded to a suite facing the lagoon but oh my… we weren’t prepared for how lovely it was. Minutes later a bottle of wine and box of cookies arrived as a welcome gift. This is really how Marriott should treat their elite members and it quickly made up for the fiasco we had encountered in Cambodia at the Courtyard!

Our living room aka Jenny’s bedroom

The view out of our room-fantastico!

We were all exhausted so with the rain pouring down and the unfathomable amount of tourists moving about below our balcony, we settled in to the views of the lagoon and the Giorgio San Maggiore directly in front of us and listened to the few gondoliers serenading their passengers who braved the wet weather to take a ride. I counted eight cruise ships in port when we were coming in for a landing and Jenny saw one more off the other side of the plane so we knew it was going to be busy but holy cow it was insane.

After freshening up, both Jenny and Billy proceeded to pass out. I, on the other hand, determined to get on Euro time as quick as possible, wandered the halls of this beautiful 14th century building, taking pictures, admiring the views and eventually settling down in one of the cozy chairs in the Bar Dandolo for a…Prosecco of course-when in Rome right?

Billy and Jenny woke in time for us to make it to our reservation for dinner. I had chosen a place close by that had solid reviews in a small local restaurant. Jenny was thrilled that they had beef carpaccio on the menu. Our dinners were good-not fantastic but we were all so tired we really couldn’t have enjoyed anything more.

After dinner, we enjoyed strolling through the narrow streets of Venice, now that the cruise ship passengers had returned to their vessels. We rambled over bridges while a light mist fell, and dusk turned into night with the amber glow of the trattoria lights reflecting off the canals; it lent a different feel to the never ending stream of people we had seen from our balcony earlier in the day. We let Jenny lead the way, all the while knowing we were getting lost in the labyrinth of alleyways that make up Venice’s streets.  The evening was magical, in a pleasantly surprising way, as we were all a bit skeptical of whether we would enjoy Venice or not; so far so good!

Once back at the hotel, we were welcomed back with two lovely boxes of chocolates left on our bed. We took one more look at the stunning view off our balcony, but it was only a matter of minutes before jet lag got the better of us and we all fell sound asleep.

 

May 19, 2019

In Search of Peaceful, Authentic Venice

This morning I woke up at 7:30 and flew out of bed. I wanted to get out before thousands of cruisers descended on Venice to try and enjoy it in the tranquility I was sure it possessed. My crew wasn’t budging so I set off on my own. I took a quick glance out the window and it appeared only overcast so I left my raincoat and headed out. By the time I reached the lobby, the skies had opened up and it was bucketing. I grabbed an umbrella from the hotel and made my way to Plazza San Marco, which was just a few doors down. I passed by the famous Bridge of Sighs, so named as the prisoners would cross it and be able to take one last glance at the beautiful San Giorgio Maggiore, for which they would sigh knowing they would never see it again before being executed-so romantic, right?

As I made the corner into the square, I was immediately struck by the sight of emptiness. The entire square had three other people in it-absolutely incredible. To be standing here in almost total isolation was a true wonderment. 

From the plaza I continued on through the streets, over more bridges and then turned out to the Grand Canal where I got a perfect view of Santa Maria Della Salute with its multiple domes standing guard right at the canal entrance. The view was breathtaking; Venice is certainly a unique city. 

It wasn’t long after that Billy texted to say he was up and ready to go but Jenny hadn’t budged. I told him I would walk back and meet him and to let Jenny sleep and she could text us when she was up. Saint Mark’s Square was beginning to fill up by this time and I was thankful I had seen it empty. Billy and I retraced the route I had already taken and then continued on a bit further to the Accademia Bridge from where the view was even more spectacular-actually, I don’t think there is a bad view to be had in Venice.

Not long thereafter Jenny texted she was up, so we decided to walk back to the hotel to meet her for breakfast and plan the rest of the day. By the time we reached the square the people were out in full force; I felt like I was in a completely different place then the one of tranquility I had stood in early this morning.

Breakfast at the hotel was a real treat-sitting up against the window looking out over the lagoon noshing on fresh fruit and yogurt with a few pastries thrown in for good measure!

With the help of the concierge, our plan to get away from the crowds was laid. We would take the #1 vaporetto all the way up the Grand Canal to the final stop of Piazzale Roma where we would disembark and then make our way down through the the Dorsoduro district which many of the cruise ship passengers seldom travel to. 

The ride up the canal was a wonderful way to see more of Venice and to experience a bit of a more local way of life. Upon disembarking, we got a quick lay of the land as this was where we were to return to tomorrow to meet our shuttle van to drive us across the border to Slovenia. 

Our walk down the Dorsoduro was very pleasant and certainly felt very authentic. We had no plan on where to go, we just turned down roads that looked appealing. More than once we ended up on dead end alleyways that terminated at a canal but always it was worth the extra steps because the scene was always charming. 

We stopped for a cappuccino and some beers in Campo Santa Margarita and enjoyed watching daily life go by. The weather up to this point had been drizzly but no downpours.

Following our pit stop we thought we would make our way to Basilica Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, a large church built in 1492 that the concierge had recommended seeing. We chose to head there without the aid of the map or GPS and 30 minutes later, ended up right back in Campo Santa Margarita to which we laughed and celebrated with a delicious gelato! We were struck by the number of banners we saw in this area opposing the large cruise ships-clearly we agree with them. While it can be said the cruise ship industry brings money into select hands of the local economy, it destroys the areas authenticity and has far more negative consequences.

Off we went again, this time with the aid of a GPS to at least get us going in the right direction. We came upon San Pantaleon which we had passed before but whose doors had been closed then, but were now open so Jenny and I went in. San Pantaleon dates back to 1161 and was a beautiful church (no pictures allowed) where Jenny and I each lit a candle-me for my father and Jenny for Cliff, our dear friend in Greer who recently, unexpectedly passed away.

30 minutes later, and a few more dead ends, we reached the basilica. The doors were open so we paid the entrance fee and were immediately wowed by its beauty. It is mammoth in size with soaring ceilings and large monuments built to various people whose names I did not recognize. We enjoyed walking in silence through this sacred place, admiring the works of art and the two large organs that sat on either side of the wooden choir-one can only imagine what it must sound like in there when the organs are being played. We lit more candles before walking out into…fleeting sunshine; perhaps it was a message from those we remembered…

As we continued to make our way along, the crowds slowly grew heavier and as we approached the famed Rialto Bridge, we encountered loads of people. I am not too sure what the draw is of the bridge but it certainly was a main attraction. We stopped again for another cappuccino and adult beverage and enjoyed sitting outside even if there was a bit of a chill.

By the time we made it back to the hotel, we had covered almost eight miles. Pooped, but in need of dinner we took the concierge’s recommendation and walked through St Mark’s square where we entered a restaurant that, at first appearance, seemed to be nothing more than a tourist trap with the posted sign that it was approved by Princess Cruises. Too tired to change plans, we went with it. As we were being shown to our table, the host kept calling out that we were the party, “Dominique from the Hotel Danieli.” I couldn’t figure out why he was making that announcement to all the waitstaff except that maybe they wanted to make sure that we were pleased.

Our dinner was quite good and the staff could not have been friendlier. Jenny of course was thrilled with carpaccio, once again. As well as, we had watched the waiter making steak tartare for another table and were intrigued with their methods. I was telling Jenny how tartare had been one of my dad’s favorites, and how excited he would get if my mom made it or a restaurant had it on the menu. The waiter, obviously appreciating our interest in his tartare making skills asked the table if they would allow him to serve us a small portion to taste, to which they obliged. Billy wouldn’t partake, but Jenny and I gladly did and it was delicious-raw egg and all-another thing my dad and Jenny had in common apparently-their love of raw meat! 

After our delightful dinner, and the joyful conversation in Spanish with the table next to us, an adorable couple from Miami via Venezuela, we walked out to find Saint Mark’s Square flooded. Jenny said she would take her shoes off to walk through but with all the pigeon poop that is all over the square and now in the water, there was no way I was going to let her do that! So I bought her a pair of knee high shoe covers to which she was thrilled as she danced around in the square, stomping in the water, merrily splashing away. It was a perfectly fun evening to end our stay in enchanting Venice!

 

May 20, 2019

Bovec Bound

I had left the decision to wake up this morning and get out before the crowds to Jenny. We would only realistically have about an hour to do it because we had a transfer to Slovenia today and since I had seen as much as I probably could in an hour yesterday, I was ambivalent. She said she would set her alarm and if she felt up to it she would wake me otherwise she would turn it off. All made perfect sense, except I forgot to plan for the latter and at 8:30 I awoke with a start, jumping out of bed announcing we had overslept and everyone had better get their asses up like now! It was a bit of a mad frenzy with packing bags and showering, and still trying to fit our gratis breakfast in-so much for Jenny’s request of a long, leisurely breakfast! 

As I was the first one ready, I headed downstairs to settle up and secure a ride to the Piazza Roma to meet our shuttle. They had told us it would take fifteen minutes to transfer and of course, in my mind, I added at least ten minutes to that time frame and was getting quite anxious when Billy and Jenny still weren’t in the lobby by 9:35. As it turned out, it was OK and we docked with two minutes to spare. We met up with our driver from Go Opti, and before we knew it we were off.

As we drove off, we all agreed that Venice exceeded our expectations. From everything I had read, I was prepared for us to be disappointed, which I think we would have been had we not gotten out of the area we were staying in. Being able to see Venice without the cloak of mass tourism made the difference for me. Walking the Dorsoduro neighborhood, made the difference for us. It really is one of the most unique places we have ever seen and is charming beyond words. I could spend an extended period of time there, even in the rain, that did not bother us, if only for the crowds.

(I will leave you with some additional pictures of Venice that I took and especially for the dog lovers-the last few are for you).

The drive was uneventful and with the continued dreary weather, it was almost boring. We enjoyed seeing vineyards and poplar groves and while our driver, Uros, was very cautious, he spoke little English so we couldn’t have any conversation with him. We arrived in Nova Gorica in the absolute pouring rain, trying to find our rental car agency. Uros was great stopping here and there asking for help until he was finally pointed in the direction of the VW dealership. We were surprised to see that the rental car agency was located inside, but thrilled to learn that our rental car would be a brand new VW. We were also shocked to see that a brand new Touareg costs over $100k! I signed on to be the designated driver and before long we were out the door. It cracked Jenny and I up that literally, I was out of the parking lot in seconds flat, with little idea of where we were going and Billy was in the backseat letting me know how different we are because he,“would have taken the time to adjust his mirrors, learn what all the buttons did, figure out the temperature control and windshield wipers, blah, blah, blah” Me? I’m a balls to the wall kind of gal…let’s go!!!

We thought it amazing how we had left the sea and the flat agricultural fields and within minutes of crossing the border, were in an environment that was lush and green. We felt more like we should be in South America somewhere than Europe. We quickly entered into a river valley with verdant mountains on both sides. The sinuous road followed along the cyan Soča River-a river we would basically follow to our final destination. Driving in Slovenia was easy enough, and cruising along in a stick shift VW was kind of fun-a throw back to my high school days (except this one had six gears instead of five).

The scenery the entire trip, at least what we could see of it, was gorgeous. The rain continued and with it came the ultra low-lying clouds which basically blocked any of the mountain views. We pulled into Bovec, our home for the next three nights, in less than two hours. We arrived earlier than anticipated and tried to find our AirBnb but we lacked confidence in the directions our GPS was giving us, so we opted to find lunch instead. 

Dobra Villa, was a very traditional Slovenian restaurant, but with a waitress that spoke perfect English-thank goodness! We all enjoyed our lunches and then made a quick stop at the supermarket-something we always enjoy doing but even more so this time as we basically guessed at what we were buying. Needless to say, people clearly thought I was nuts as they watched me act out a Goldilocks-like moment shaking the cardboard dairy containers to try and determine which one sounded thick but not too thick and not too thin, thus indicating cream. As it turned out-I nailed the cream but Billy’s grape juice turned out to be blueberry syrup-nothing a little water couldn’t fix!

After stocking up on the necessities, we headed back out to find our AirBnb. As it turns out, the GPS was leading us in the right direction but we were all cracking up looking at the directions it was giving us! 

Our apartment was cute, certainly nothing as plush as our previous accommodations, but fittingly perfect for us-two bedrooms, a nicely equipped kitchen, a refurbished bathroom, and a living room and dining room with a wonderful balcony looking out to what, I am sure, should be an incredible view. We did all love hearing the cuckoo birds though!

The bad weather was bumming Jenny out, so I suggested we just take a drive down to the river and get out to see some of the other natural beauty this area is know for. As we crossed the bridge, the river was a bit of a disappointment as well, as the normal turquoise color was discolored from all the rain that was causing the river to run at a much higher rate.

Determined not to let the weather get Jenny down, we continued on à la Venice style without any idea where we were headed. We drove through an adorable little village-each turn giving me pause whether it was one-way, whether our car would even fit between the buildings, and whether it was even a “road” and not some footpath.

When we finally cleared the village and continued on along the river, we found some solace in the nature surrounding us. As we rounded a bend in the road, I looked off in the distance and saw an absolutely incredible sight that reminded me of the grand falls of Yellowstone. Wow-was it incredible, and from this far away. The never ending rain had certainly created quite the spectacle for us!

Exhaustion had taken its toll on Jenny and so we decided that since we had had such a late lunch, we would skip dinner and just call it a night. Billy had an early call tomorrow to meet up with the fly fishing guide I had lined up for him, so we all just turned in!

 

May 21, 2019

Hoping to See What We Came Here For

This morning I drove Billy to meet his fishing guide, who he would be spending the entire day with in hopes of catching trout-including the elusive marble trout that is native to this area. I had a glitch with the guide when I confirmed with him from Venice as he told me I had never confirmed dates, and so we were out of luck. Needless to say, my head about exploded in the middle of the Bar Dandolo at the Hotel Danieli. Billy handled it well, and tried to calm me down, but I had all the emails confirming everything since I originally booked it back in February.  So I “kindly” forwarded there emails to him, and lucky for us, or rather for him, he realized his mistake and assured me there would be a guide there for Billy on the 21st.

The skies were overcast and the mountains were still shrouded in clouds but at least it had stopped raining for now. Jenny was really depressed about not being able to see the beauty that she knew surrounded us; if you have read previous blogs, you know the mountains are her peace and being in them always bring her to her happy place. Not about to allow that to get us down, I insisted she get moving, and we would head out to still have a marvelous day.

We decided to go back the way we had come in, to see some of the towns that we had driven through and stop at some of the picture worthy locales we had passed by. We decided we would drive as far as Tomlin and then turn around and make our way back, stopping along the way then. Of course, as soon as we got into Tomlin, we got off the beaten track-following small roads that were taking us up, up, up, into the mountains-past farmers and their cows, fields of wildflowers to views that looked out over the red roofs.

Back on the main road, we pulled over onto the side of the highway where there was a beautiful field and an old barn that looked too picturesque to pass up. We walked out and snapped some photos-to which we must have become a bit of an attraction as everyone was passing by honking and waving at us!

From there, we headed to Kobarid to have lunch at a highly recommended spot, but we arrived two minutes before closing and they were closed. Bummer!

We looked across the street and saw another restaurant that looked nice and because of the time and the fact we were starved, we decided to give it a go. The inside was decorated in a total nautical theme but very nicely done. The waiters all wore bow ties and long white aprons. They brought us a complimentary amuse-bouche which turned out to be fried cheese croquettes-of which two of the four were still frozen in the middle. “Uh oh,” we said, but neither of us had the heart to pull the shoot. As it turned out, our meals were very good-a meat and cheese platter for me (kind of hard to mess that one up) and a bolognese for Jenny. When the meal was over they brought us out two complimentary pitchers of some sort of liqueur that were about 20% and nearly 50% alcohol, according to the waiter. We poured enough to moisten our lips and then left it at that.

After lunch, we decided to make our way to the church we had seen at the top of the hill. It turned out to be an ossuary, dedicated by Mussolini, housing the remains of over 7,000 Italian soldiers that had been killed during World War I. The ossuary had been built around an original 17th century church. This entire area was what was known as the Isonzo Front (or nowadays in Slovenia as the Sôca Front). It was the home of countless battles during WWI, accounting for the deaths of more than half of the entire death toll for Italy during the war-roughly 300,000 soldiers. 

Our final stop was Napolean’s Bridge over the Sôca River. The original bridge was blown up by the Austrians during WWI and this bridge was built in its place by the Italians following the war.

We met up with Billy back at the apartment where he proceeded to tell us about his epic day of fly fishing. He caught over a dozen fish-the largest a big fat grayling, the most-rainbows of various sizes, the best-one marble trout of more than decent size.

Even though we were all tired, we decided we could not forgo dinner again and so we walked down to the restaurant that we had had lunch in yesterday as it was close and we were pleased with the selection. Dinner turned out to be delicious-veal with a mushroom sauce for both Billy and I and the meat and cheese plate for Jenny.

Our day today was wonderful, we loved all of the little towns and their beautiful churches. Most of this area was destroyed during WWI and has been rebuilt so it lacks the usual charm one finds in small European towns, but is nonetheless interesting.

We were bummed at the continuing weather. We came for the natural beauty, the mountains specifically, and while we have not been able to see them, the area we can experience is stunning. We are hoping that tomorrow will bring some clearing and we can actually see all that nature has to offer in this region. I told Jenny when she went to bed that I was going to wake her up the second I saw blue sky, as it was my birthday, I was anticipating good things-even though the forecast called for 100% chance of rain…

May 22, 2019

Birthday Gifts

Today is my birthday and I woke to find the best birthday news I could have ever received. One of my dearest friends, a woman I love and admire more than I can say, is in a battle for her life with a recent, shocking diagnosis of stage four lung cancer. I received word that after five weeks on a new targeted therapy, that the brain metastases had all but disappeared and the expectation will be for similar results in the remainder of the body. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday gift… I love you my dear friend!

We woke up to a tad of blue skies but we could actually see some of the mountain tops. It was amazing to realize how deep in the valley we were. I waited an hour or two, in hopes the mountains would clear some more but clouds kept coming and going so, as promised, I woke Jenny so she could see some of the snow packed mountain tops.

The forecast was still showing rain and the radar was pretty much confirming it but we decided to try and get out into the mountains to see what we could-clouds be dammed! We stopped at the market for some car provisions, not knowing how long we would be gone or where the next provisioning stop would be and headed out.

Bovec lies just outside of Triglav National Park, named after the highest peak at 8,592 feet, so it wasn’t long before we entered the park. Our first stop was to see where Billy had fished yesterday, as the pictures certainly made it look appealing. The river was gorgeous and had already dropped a few feet from the day before since the rain had let up. It was absolutely incredible that you could see the huge trout swimming around in the pools. Billy had not bothered bringing his rod with him on our road trip because a fishing license in Slovenia is over $60 per day-ouch!

We continued on until we came upon a beautiful church where we stopped. As we walked around the graveyard, Jenny quickly noticed the gravesites and how nice they were that they were solid tops and had built in planters. The cemetery was an original WWI cemetery but was used today as well. It was a beautiful and peaceful spot.

The mountain tops would poke out here and there as we drove further into the Soča Valley but still there was no moment of total clarity. Our spirits were being lifted though as we drove higher. The road was a wild one with a 14% gradient and 26 hairpin turns to the top-I can’t ever remember having to downshift into first gear while still accelerating in order to keep from stalling!

Another stop, on a point looking out back over the valley we had started to ascend from and a chance to honor the man who first explored and then wrote about this area of the Julian Alps, Dr. Julius Kugy. 

On we climbed until we saw an actual pull off where we stopped and walked out on a platform that jutted out over the valley below-if only the mountains could be seen. There were scant signs of them and while we could make them out some, it still wasn’t very clear. As we walked back to the car, we passed a couple having a picnic and we all stopped to see that they had a carton of Chocomel! Oh how we can’t wait to get to the Netherlands and open up one of those bright yellow cartons of chocolatey liquid goodness!

From the look out point, we could see the top of the Vrsîc Pass just up from us so we knew that would be our next stop. It was probably less than a mile’s drive but how quickly the terrain changed from a mixed deciduous forest to an alpine meadow one-with the dainty alpine flowers and purple heather covering the ground, along with snow! We pulled the car in and made our way over to a point where…mountains…we could see them! Yes-finally! My second  birthday gift of the day!

Heading back down over the other side was another set of 24 hairpin turns, these all laid in cobblestone! We marveled at the bicyclists climbing this pass-a la Tour de France style, as well as the convoys of motorcycles, Porsches and souped-up Audis and VWs. It is clearly a favorite drive of those with performance vehicles!

The reaction when you see cars driving like 60mph in the same spot I never got out of second gear in!

A few more stops, including at the Russian chapel built by the former Russian prisoners of war who were used to build the road. The chapel was a means to honor their fellow diseased and suffering comrades. And of course, to stop and smell the flowers, well really just admire them but still!

At the bottom of the pass we came into Kransjka Gora where there sat the most beautiful, crystal clear lakes. It was then that the rain started again but we had seen mountains! Maybe not in all of their glory, perhaps partially enshrouded but still it was better than we had expected and we were thrilled with what we got.

We took the drive back over through Italy, through the old border crossing and down into Bovec, in the absolute pouring rain. We felt pleased that we had seen what we had since the weather here had looked like it never cleared much. As we were getting ready to leave for dinner, the rain stopped and then a rainbow appeared-a third birthday gift, perhaps from my dad…

We chose the best restaurant in town for my birthday dinner, which turned out be exquisite-in every way. It was a set menu and we all three ate every last tasty morsel from the venison appetizer, to the trout and asparagus second, the duck and potato main, and the desert which was some concoction of cheese, pepper, ice cream-all matched with incredible Slovenian wines, eaten in a lovely setting looking out at the now clear mountains. A final birthday gift on a truly magnificent day!

May 23, 2019

My, Oh My…Blue Skies

After three nights in Bovec, our schedule was to move on to Ljublana, the capital of Slovenia. Our original plan was to drive to Most na Soči and take the car train. It sounds pretty straightforward except this particular train runs through the mountains in a tunnel for the better part of 30 minutes. You drive your car onto a train car and then choose to either remain in your vehicle or ride in the front train car for the time through the tunnel. A unique experience for sure!

But…we woke up to blue skies-not a rain cloud in sight- and the very last thing I could imagine was to sit in complete darkness when we finally had some sun. So the decision was quickly made to go to Ljublana over the Vršič Pass-the very same windy road we drove yesterday! You have to be nuts, or desperately seeking mountain views to subject yourself to that road again but I am afraid we are both. We figured we could finally see the mountains in all their glory and experience the Julian Alps in the way we had hoped to. Since we had already made the stops, and were at least familiar with the road, we thought it would not take us too long to retrace our steps, and we would have the added benefit of the natural beauty surrounding us.

But…first things first…we needed to stop for some sustenance in the form of the bakery at the supermarket. With zero Slovenian knowledge on our parts and a much better command of the English language on the baker lady’s part-we managed to round up a few different items including donuts and blintzes. The funny thing was as we were driving and Jenny bit into her O-shaped sprinkled donut, there was some sort of jelly in the middle. I about crashed the car from laughing when a severely disappointed Jenny adamantly insisted, “What the heck. A hole in a donut should be the universal symbol for NO filling!” But of course, the question remained…how did they get the jelly into a donut that has a hole?

Our drive to the top didn’t take us long and we all marveled at what a difference a day makes. It is a bit of a surreal feeling stepping foot in a place that you have been before but never really experienced as far as the physical layout. We loved every minute of it and once again, gave kudos to Jenny for a great spot for a vacation.

 

Some of these photos are the same ones we took yesterday but I had to post them again, with blue sky and visibility.

After we left Kransjka Gora, the rest of the route was all new territory. Our goal for the day was to visit Lake Bled, a large glacial lake about an hour north of Ljubljana with the only natural island in all of Slovenia. 

The lake is surreal, tinted a color blue we have never seen before except for maybe at a Disneyland ride. Even the many glacial lakes we have seen in Patagonia, didn’t hold a candle to the color of this one-I like to think of it as bubblegum blue.

We drove up to the castle that overlooks Lake Bled, originally built in 1011, but clearly not in its original state. The location was stunning, but except for the stunning view, there wasn’t much of a castle to see.

We sat at the cafe for a refreshment and a piece of the famous delicious Bled Cake-a confectionary that is similar to a Boston Cream Cake but with no sponge and is ultra light in density. We took in the incredible views and from our perch, at least a hundred feet up, we could see fish schooling in the lake below-Billy was beside himself watching them swim around!

Wanting to get a different perspective on Lake Bled, we decided to drive around the lake, looking for a place to stop. Away from the town and the castle, there were fewer people. We enjoyed a walk along the boardwalk that lined the shoreline, eventually plopping down on a bench for a rest and to just relax in what was really an awe-inspiring location.

The remainder of the drive into Ljubljana was uneventful in the sense that nothing major occurred but it is always interesting trying to decipher what all the signs in a foreign country mean and trying to figure out whether a solid white line that abruptly turns into a solid yellow line means we can stay in that lane or not. Thank goodness for me, I had two great copilots who keep very calm and helped me navigate the somewhat nerve wracking situation. 

As we neared our apartment, I was a bit nervous for the fact that there was graffiti everywhere-and I mean everywhere.

I was able to parallel park the car into a minuscule spot in front of the building and we entered into a rather dank set up.A three floor walk up-with our 45 lbs suitcase was no easy task, but the apartment was brilliant with two extremely oversized bedrooms, a modern kitchen with dining able and a lovely balcony.

As Billy and I went downstairs to unload the last bits of the car, we decided we should try and find a place to buy a couple of beers. The building has a florist on the ground floor, so we went there to seek some information but I ended up asking a guy who looked to be about 25 if he spoke any English. His response was, “A little.” When I asked him where there was a grocery store, he offered to walk me there because he was headed in that direction. Turns out his little bit of English was an understatement as he was using terms like ratio and optimist. He pointed us in the right direction and gave us a recommendation for dinner. He could not have been nicer and was really the first truly friendly Slovanian we have encountered. Everyone else has been pretty unexcitable, with little expression to the point that they seldom returned a friendly smile.

Turned out the suggested restaurant was unable to accommodate us, so I was able to find another one in its place. The manager made me a deal that if we would be in by 7:00 and out by 9:00 we could have a table-no problem I assured him!

Čompa was a hole in the wall place, whose outside gruff appearance could not have been more contrary to the hidden charm of the inside.

When we sat down, an unassuming lady in a formal chef outfit (but not the tall white hat-French style, think more floppy hat, worn to the left style), came over to the table and gave us some pointers on the menu. Everything was expected to be shared family style-they had warm starters, cold starters, mains and side dishes. She went over the vegetable sides that they had in season, and how they were prepared-all sounded delicious. She then touched base on the mains-there were various cuts of beef, a local pork that was a bit fattier than the usual and there were a few selections of horse…yes horse! That took me back for a moment (or two) but understanding the cultural differences, I held no judgement. The lady chef, who actually turned out to be the owner-Mila, was very kind in recognizing that, “Americans typically have a hard time with that one but for Slovenians eating horse is part of our heritage.” No problem-just not for me (this coming from the girl who ate Bambi, Daffy and Nemo for dinner last night).

Our entire meal was fantastic, the wine spectacular and Mila was just wonderful. We felt very fortunate to have been able to snag a table as countless people entered and were turned away!

 

Another delicious dinner in Slovenia, where I had read the food is pretty blah but we have not found that at all, in fact our last three dinners have been outstanding!

May 24, 2019

Lovely Ljubljana

This morning we woke to pure blue skies-not a single cloud to be seem-yes! Billy hurried and readied for his second day of fishing in Slovenia, while Jenny enjoyed a leisurely morning. We had no plan except to go to the old town and walk around and to get lunch at the local food festival that takes place Friday in the main square.

By the time we got into Ljubljana historic district, it was close to 12:00 and it was pretty packed with people. We strolled along the river, stopping for a cappuccino and to locate a few shop we wanted to stop in. Continuing on, we were amazed to see how many people were out sitting in the restaurants that line the river. 

We made a few stops in some of the stores, buying a cute pair of sandals made in Italy and a piece of pottery from a co-op that benefits people with disabilities. Of course, it wasn’t long before we were hungry so we decided to try the food festival that is quite popular here.

This little lady was so cute, she reminded me of Oma, my dad’s mother.

There were probably 30 or so vendors selling everything from traditional Slovenian foods to a myriad of foreign ethnic foods. Our first stop was for a serving of roast pork (literally it was like suckling pig but on a bbq instead of a spit) with cole slaw and roasted potatoes-all delicious until Jenny saw “piggy whiskers” attached to the skin. I laughed telling Jenny that yesterday she said she had seen every farm animal in Slovenia but a pig-well today she saw her pig, it just wasn’t in the exact form she was planning on.

Next food stop was for Egyptian shawarma- a delicious concoction of sautéed spiced chicken and onions, arugula, shredded carrots topped with a yogurt sauce wrapped in a warm grilled pice of flatbread-delicious and so filling, we had to stop eating there!

We walked around a bit more, enjoying the sights of the lovely compact old district and then headed back to the apartment to drop our bag off and take a few minutes to get out of the sun and cool down-it had actually gotten warm enough where that was necessary. Just as we were leaving, Billy came in so we got the news on another day of epic fishing. He caught more fish then he could count, many of them on a technique that is considered all the rage now-Czech nymphing and then a bunch on a dry fly-his favorite technique. They ended back up by Lake Bled, in stunning water, with loads of fish-a pretty perfect day.

We left Billy to shower and relax while we headed up to an area called Metelkova. This was a former army barracks that has been turned into an artist colony. As I said, Ljubljana has a lot of graffiti-everywhere but according to the locals it is considered street art, even if some of it is not so nice. Well this place, was full of that and other artistic expressions. Jenny was a bit nervous to walk all the way in and around as there were some interesting looking characters so we stayed on the outskirts. There is no doubt that with all of our travels-Jenny has learned an unbelievable amount of street smarts-which is great! The thing is, Ljubljana is one of the safest cities in the world with an almost negligible crime rate. We have seen no beggars, no gypsies, no scam artists and only one person who appeared as though they were in a fairly derelict condition, so all the graffiti which usually points to crime ridden areas back home, really is just street art! I’ll take graffiti over gypsies and scam artists, any day!

We had fun posing in front of all the other street art as we walked along the streets.

We stopped in a cafe just down the road from our apartment to sit outside, under the awning and enjoy the breeze that had picked up. I told Billy to meet us there when he was ready so we could head to dinner from there.

Dinner tonight was at the restaurant the local had suggested but it was not as good as we had hoped-nothing bad, just nothing rave worthy.

We all enjoyed strolling back along the river, in the pedestrian only part of town. Billy is looking forward to seeing more of it in the day tomorrow since for his birthday, he will be hanging out with us!

 

 May 25, 2019

Birthday Number Two

It was another beautiful morning here and of course, it was Billy’s birthday, so we decided we’d go out for our first breakfast of the trip. Every other morning we had breakfast at home or grabbed something from the grocery store but today we decided on a true breakfast at Ek, just down the street. Billy and Jenny ordered eggs benedict and I had a yogurt bowl with fruit and granola-all very good. The color of the egg yolks here are that beautiful orange color-the kind I only find when I buy them from a local house that has chickens of their own!

We decided to skip option #1 after we read the translation.

After breakfast, we decided we would go to the castle that has loomed over Ljubljana for the last 900 or so years. It was an easy ride up the funicular, giving us our first views out over the beautiful red roofs of Ljubljana. It was too bad that the mountains off in the distance were covered in clouds, but really…no complaining here!

We climbed up to the top of the lookout tower, with me holding the map over the corner of my eye, acting like a blinder so I did not see just how high up and how steep the stairwell was. The view from the top was spectacular-a 360° view of all of Ljubljana and the gorgeous countryside-all the way out to the mountains (just not the peaks today). Really spectacular and worth the price of entry alone for the view. We have decided that the castles in Slovenia, are pretty lame. There is really very little to see in them, unlike the castles of some of the other European countries we have been to-oh well-I guess you can’t have everything.

We enjoyed the stroll back down the hill and walked along the streets of the old town, through the Saturday market, across the Butcher’s Bridge, aka the Bridge of Love, with all the locks hanging that the lover’s put on to demonstrate their eternal love and then throw the key over into the river. Jenny was funny, pointing out one and saying that that guy must not have been too sure about his relationship as he used a padlock with a dial combination.

By this time we were ready for lunch so I chose a restaurant that looked like it had a full menu-a total carp shoot. Turned out it was a delicious lunch with extremely friendly service and free entertainment in the form of Hare Krishnas dancing through the streets.

We could have lingered over lunch a little longer, but the skies were darkening and a quick look at our radar suggested we were in for some storms. Even though they have developed an ingenious system of umbrella gutters so the outside tables can still be used in the pouring rain, we opted to head back to the apartment for a nap for the birthday boy. It wasn’t even seconds after walking in the door that the clouds unloaded.

See the waiters attaching the gutters!

A few hours later, and just in time to head out for dinner, the skies cleared. Jenny navigated us to dinner and at one point we were sure that perhaps there was some mistake as to where we were headed, we had the feeling we were walking the streets of Beirut in the 1980s, not in the 21st century EU, but Jenny was spot on. We spied the sign for the restaurant Luda and had a good laugh that they had laid out the welcome mat for Billy on his birthday, as we entered into their building on two wooden planks spanning a ditch. However, just like two nights previous, what waited on the other side of the door was far different than the facade, except this time the inside was modern and sleek.

Our waitress was a cute young girl, with a bright blue bob. She was very friendly and chatted with us concerning the restaurant’s concept, which apparently keeps reinventing itself. It was a small place, with only 7 tables allowing for them to serve everything fresh from the markets. They had a very limited menu with the choices consisting of fish dishes only. Our dinner was delicious-we all had tuna crudo for starters and shared a bowl of charred tomatoes in some fish something or another foam. For dinner it was octopus for Billy, trout for me and shrimp pasta for Jenny-all outstanding! We split two deserts-a cheese platter and a spice cake, topped with fresh strawberries and a yogurt foam with hazelnuts-again outstanding! Including a bottle of wine, our total dinner tab was Euro 101!

Our time in Slovenia had come to an end. Tomorrow we catch a flight to Amsterdam. We have loved everything about Slovenia-it is definitely a country I would love to return to and do some hiking in-especially on the hut to hut routes in the Julian Alps. Ljubljana itself has a lot to offer-it is charming and safe with excellent restaurants and friendly people. It is less than an hour to world class fly fishing and incredible skiing. We loved how dog friendly it was-we have never seen so many different breeds of dogs in one place-you name it, we saw it-including shar-peis and basset hounds as well as some really big ones we had never seen.

We learned more about the history of Yugolsalvia and saw the impacts that the years as a communist/socialist country had. We actually overheard an interesting conversation with a local who was speaking of how awful it was under that rule but that under the EU, they feel like their culture is being wiped out. I can understand and see where he is coming from. It’s sad to think that that is true. Culture is intrinsic to travel, at least the kind of traveling that we do. I can’t imagine a world without it. It would be like the only flavor of ice cream to be had is vanilla or if everything in the world was only shades of grey. Cesar Chavez once said, “Preservation of own’s own culture does not require contempt or disrespect for other cultures.” We have worked hard to teach this to Jenny, through our words, our actions, and most importantly our travels. What a far more peaceful world we would live in, if only this thought process was the norm.

While our travels have been beyond educational, for all three of us, they have turned into so much more. As a family, we have so much fun together. With all of the time that Billy is away from home, for us to spend time together, away from the things that can distract us or we have come to depend on, brings us that much closer. Our travels are bonding. We are grateful for the opportunities we have to spend this time together because as I think we all know, life is short, and we never know what’s in store for us just around the corner. We would trade anything we have in this world for guaranteed time but that’s not an option so instead, we will take advantage of our time now, as much as we can.

December 19 and 20, 2018

One Flight, Two Flight, Three Flight…Four?

It’s with extreme excitement and honestly, some nerves, that we set off on another family adventure together.

None of us have been to Asia before, and of course we all have said we would love to go. It seems to be the recommendation that first timers to SE Asia, go to Thailand, and while I looked into it, it wasn’t what we were looking for. This was Jenny’s trip to decide on and she really wanted to see Vietnam, especially the rice paddies and Halong Bay, as well as Angkor Wat in Cambodia. But the timing in winter for Vietnam wasn’t right to see those sights and really from day one her first choice was Myanmar, formerly known as Burma. Why Myanmar you ask? Well, when we were in Patagonia a few years back and we ended up spending the day hiking with a guy named Christopher, he had told us about Myanmar and how incredible it is. He had said it is off the beaten path but is more rapidly becoming a destination. His thoughts and stories put a bug in Jenny’s head that never left. When she saw images of Bagan, that sealed the deal; Myanmar was her pick, along with Cambodia.

So with that, my research began, and I came up with the travel plan-one focused on cultural immersion through interaction with locals, visiting both ancient and religious sights, and provide us an opportunity to give back by volunteering.

We had a hefty travel itinerary just to get here: a two hour train ride to Boston, a six hour wait there (our original departure time was 1:30 AM from Boston but it was delayed until 3:40 AM) then Boston to Hong Kong, a 15 hour flight, then a three hour layover there with a 2 1/2 hour flight continuing on to Bangkok, Thailand. Another four hour layover and then our last leg was an hour flight into Yangon, Myanmar. We left our house at 7:30 PM on Dec 18 and arrived in Yangon at 7:00 PM on Dec 20. We have been in four different time zones and door to door was 35 hours-yowzer!

Our flight was on a 777 that had us chasing darkness the entire 7,964 mile trip from Boston, over the North Pole, down through eastern Russia, Mongolia and on into China. It was not until we were an hour from Hong Kong that the first rays of light rose from the horizon.

I managed to score three business class seats using miles so we were lucky that we could stretch out, sleep, wake, eat, and sleep some more, all in good comfort. It certainly helps to make 15 hours on an airplane manageable!

Unfortunately, our approach into Hong Kong was cloudy so we couldn’t see much. We were two hours late but we still had about 3 hours until our next flight, but we had to clear immigration, collect our bags, check back in for our next flight, and clear security. We managed all of that with some time to spare so we grabbed some water and snacks and enjoyed looking at all of the shops and the extensive Christmas decorations!

Our flight on low cost carrier Air Asia was unexciting but boy was the Bangkok domestic airport an incredible sight-some really great people watching there. Wild thing is that there is a golf course that acts as a divider between the runways, with no nets or anything to catch any shanked balls!

We relaxed in the Priority Pass Lounge for an hour or so which was a very nice reprieve from the chaos of the terminal. The slight decompression provided us the opportunity to realize that the jet lag was catching up to us!

Our flight to Yangon was also on Air Asia. We watched as they brought a woman aboard who must have been 100 years old, carrying her like you would if you were moving a dead body! Unreal!

The final leg of our trip was to hire a taxi to take us to our hotel for the next two nights. Walking out of the terminal we were greeted with lots of taxi drivers all asking if we needed a ride. I did all the research on this ahead of time and knew to go to the official taxi stand to hire a cab for a fixed rate. Once in, we headed to the Savoy Hotel-a relic from the British Colonial Days. The drive in was a nightmare with the traffic but as soon as we arrived…ahhhh….we were greeted with cool towels and some fresh fruit drinks. The GM came out to say hello, a super nice guy from…wouldn’t you know-the Netherlands! We are very happy to have finally arrived-35 hours after we pulled out of our driveway!

Our schedule in Myanmar is two nights Yangon, two nights Bagan, three nights Samkar Lake, and three nights Loikaw. Followed by five nights in Siem Reap, Cambodia. I have lined up local guides at most places-all found through word of mouth on the internet, no large tour companies. It was a priority this trip to travel responsibly and stay as locally as possible (though there are a few exceptions), but most importantly to make sure our money makes a positive impact on those who are trying to better their lives.

This will be a trip that I am sure will take us outside our comfort zone at times. Of course there will be a language barrier, but I am feeling fairly confident that we will find enough English spoken to get by. I am also expecting it will be an assault on our senses-in many, many ways-some great, some probably not so good. But most importantly I am hoping this will be an education like none we have received before in our travels. I’d like to think every trip changes us to some degree, for the better of course, and I am hopeful this one will be no different. What we will take away from it remains to be seen; how it will shape our thinking and our future travels is the real question.

December 21, 2018

Cultural Immersion is an Understatement

Our first impression of Myanmar is that it is not as stuck in time or as much of a third world country as we had expected.

Our plan for the day was to head out and see some of the highlights of Yangon.

Yangon was founded as Dagon in the early 11th century by the Mon, who dominated Lower Burma at that time. Dagon was a small fishing village centred about the Shwedagon Pagoda. The British seized Yangon and all of Second Anglo-Burmese War of 1852, and subsequently transformed Yangon into the commercial and political hub of British Burma, being known then as Rangoon. It was only after their independence from Britain that it was referred back to Yangon.

Our driver, Zaw, picked us up promptly at our arranged time of 10:00. Our first stop was the train station where we were going to ride the circle train for an hour or so-this was something that was actually Billy’s idea!

From the moment we stepped out of the car, we realized immediately that this was going to be cultural immersion in the strictest sense. The circle train is exactly as it sounds, a train that starts and ends at the same station taking three hours to complete the circuit. It is ridden strictly by the locals of Yangon and is by far the best way to immerse oneself in the daily life of the Yagonites.

The entire ride was beyond eye opening. It was a fascinating hour and an experience like no other we have had, so much so we could hardly take our eyes off of the images passing by to capture a picture.

The train slowly made its way through areas where amazingly every little open air stand selling food being cooked in large pots was being patronized. There were hawkers that would come through selling peanuts, fresh sliced fruit, tangerines, bottles of water, etc. They were mostly young kids who should have seen in school but were obviously trying to earn a few kyats.

With all of the visible poverty we were never approached once for money; we never saw any beggars. We never once felt uncomfortable or the least bit nervous. The people were all so friendly-smiling and even giving up their seats insisting we sit down. The one thing that was clearly evident though, was that everybody was fascinated by Jenny- boys and women alike. Zaw was shocked to learn Jenny’s hair color is real and that she had only just turned 16. People were staring and watching her but never making her uncomfortable.

After an hour or so, we hopped off the train and grabbed a taxi to take us back to the station where we had left the car. I paid the taxi driver and then handed him a dollar bill. He stared intently at it, running his fingers over the front and then turning it over and looking at the back-it was obviously a foreign object to him. I said, “OK?” And he turned around to me grinning ear to ear. He obviously spoke no English, but just shook his head up and down beaming with delight. Jenny said how awesome the exchange was; she was right.

From there we headed into the historical area of Yangon, which boasts the largest number of colonial-era buildings in Southeast Asia. Many of the buildings are faded from what must have been at one time, very colorful but almost all are covered in dark mold. When you walk past ones with the door open, the distinct smell of mildew radiates from them.

We went inside the original telegraph building that is still in use as a post office and checked out some of the old typewriters, etc that they have on display.

We walked into the memorial park and enjoyed the views of the buildings that encircled it. We were quickly approached by a group of young boys, aged 5 to 10 I would guess. They quickly asked us where we were from, how long we were staying, where we were going, etc. The one boy’s English was exceptionally good and we had fun talking and laughing with them.

We continued on walking around Sule Pagoda, a large gold leafed stupa that acts as a traffic circle in the maddening Yagon traffic.

From there we headed to Ragoon Tea House to seek relief from the heat and humidity and have a bit to eat. Zaw joined us for lunch where we stayed for about two hours, discussing the differences in our cultures and traditions (which are numerous), sharing photographs, and answering questions each other had about life in our respective countries.

After lunch we headed to Kan Daw Gil Lake to see the large floating dragon pagoda. Yagon has many parks and lakes and was at one time referred

to by the British as the Garden City of the East. After a brief stop there, we went to see the enormous sitting Buddha-a rather new monument. It was housed in a massive pagoda like building where you could only enter barefoot. There was an area in front of him, where many people were sitting in the ground praying and chatting.

Next stop reclining Buddha. An even bigger Buddha than sitting Buddha. That was quite a sight, and while it was under construction, with the craziest bamboo scaffolding I have ever seen, it actually made for a cool photo. This was an enormous building that has been maintained by a very wealthy Myanmar man.

There were hundreds of much smaller sitting and standing Buddhas lining the length of his body, alters burning incense and candles and views out over Yangon.

On the outside there were a few small souvenir shops where we stopped to buy a souvenir to take home. We also were treated to a Myanmar tradition of having Thanaka pasted on our faces. Thanaka is traditional for women and children to wear. It is made from the wood of the Thanaka tree by grinding the roots and bark of the tree into a fine powder and mixing it with water forming a paste that is then applied to the cheeks, predominantly, to help protect their skin from the sun.

One of the things Zaw said, was how traditional the country still is. He said most people have not lost their desire for tradition-yet that is, even though outside influences are filtering in. I would say 90% of the men, including Zaw, we saw were wearing longhis (large pieces of fabric whose two corners are tied into a knot and worn like an ankle length skirt).

Our final stop was the crown jewel of Yagon’s sights-the Shwedagon Pagoda.

How old the Schwedagon Pagoda is not really known as no documents exist telling of its construction. Historians and archaeologists maintain that the pagoda was built by the Mon people between the 6th and 10th centuries AD. But local lore says it is about 2,600 years old-making it the oldest Buddhist pagoda in the world. It is 326 feet tall. The main gold-plated dome is topped by a stupa containing over 7,000 diamonds (the largest of which is a whopping 76 carats), rubies, topaz and sapphires, the whole giddy concoction offset by a massive emerald positioned to reflect the last rays of the setting sun. Shwedagon Pagoda is the most sacred Buddhist pagoda in Myanmar, as it is believed to contain relics of the four previous Buddhas of the present kalpa.

We arrived at dusk, apparently one of the best times to be there as the floor is cooler to walk on in your bare feet and there is not such a glare from the gold. The main stupa was under construction which was a bit of a bummer but there is so much to see that it was OK. This complex is a real treat for the eyes-everywhere you looked there was something that caught your attention -truly remarkable.

We took our time walking around while Zaw explained the different meanings of the various shrines, etc we were seeing. Jenny tried her hand at ringing the gong and Billy even got in on the action by bathing a Buddha with water. We sat down for a few minutes to just rest and take it all in when a monk approached Zaw and they began to chat. He quickly turned his attention to us and what followed was an hour exchange that delved deep into tradition, culture and religion. It was all quite remarkable and there is no doubt, we are all the richer for it.

Our day turned out to be one of the most real, fascinating and rewarding days we have spent in our travels.

December 22, 2018

The Jewels of Bagan

Our morning began at 4:30 this morning in order to catch a 6:30 AM flight to Bagan. The streets of Yangon are far different at this time a day-that’s for sure, but what amazed us was all of the people that were out at Inyo Lake Park-walking and jogging and just hanging out- in the dark.

Our flight was on a 76 passenger prop plane-they apparently are the work horses of Myanmar air travel!

The views from the window showed a rapidly changing landscape from a waterlogged delta, to a more lush land to a much drier, flatter terrain with mountains off in the distance. The views coming into the arid terrain of Bagan were incredible. All of the famous towers from the thousands of stupas and temples spread out over 16 square miles came into view; a few remaining hot air balloons lingered above them.

We got a kick out of the off-loading process as a shuttle bus picked us up and drove us to the terminal-that was a couple hundred feet away. We grabbed a taxi and headed off to our hotel for breakfast and to relax before meeting up with our guide at 11:00.

The hotel grounds are lovely and our room perfect.

We met up with Ei and headed out to visit some of the most famous temples and stupas. As we entered the archaeologiacal zone, we were immediately struck by the scene of hundreds of pagodas, spread out in every direction. They were all of various sizes and architecture, some built as stupas some as temples. They are not fenced off or inaccessible-they are available to everyone to walk around and into, to enjoy.

Our first stop was Gunyaukgyi temple that is famous for its 11th century frescoes with over 500 images of Buddha. This was a nice introductory one as it was not very crowded. We removed our flip flops, as is mandatory, and proceeded inside where we were immediately met by a large sitting buddha and the incredible frescoes. No pictures allowed in here and frankly it was a nice change just to take in the stories that Ei shared.

It was here that I quickly realized that we were really something of an attraction to the locals. Immediately the school groups that had come from the distant villages were looking and smiling at us, they actually reached out and touched me as they passed by. We waved and said, “Hi!” to which they rapidly responded with immense grins. They would nudge each other when one saw us and the other didn’t, clearly whispering to them to turn and look. It was fun how incredibly responsive they were to a simple gesture of smiling, waving or a warm greeting.

Ei said that to the children, a foreigner is something many have only heard of and never ever seen. They were beyond fascinated!

Our next stop was Ananda Temple, the most revered of the temples. It is also one of the largest with four enormous standing buddha’s at each cardinal entrance. The story behind it is long and detailed but one of the coolest things was that one of the buddhas’ faces changes as you approach it. From far away it is a smiling buddha but as you get closer, it looks to be more neutral and when you stand underneath him, his eyes cast down upon you and his mouth turns more into a frown-it feels as though he is judging you. Apparently this was done to help keep the King in check as he would pray at the Buddha’s feet and the citizens would be further out in the corridor where Buddha seemed happy.

It was an absolutely incredible edifice, remarkable to realize it too was from the 11th century, and though it had sustained substantial damage in the 1975 earthquake it had been restored.

Myanmar is in an earthquake zone and in the last 45 years, there have been two major ones-1975 and 2016. It is believed that there were originally 4,000 pagodas in Bagan that were built over a 300 year span between the 11th and 14th centuries. The 1975 earthquake wiped out 2,000 of them so around that same number stand today. Some are undergoing renovations, others are left to crumble.

All of the temples have vendors out front selling their goods. It was shocking to us how polite they all were. A simple “No thank you” was either recognized as such or replied with a “Maybe Later?” Everybody is basically selling the same things but Jenny eyes a few things and then had fun in her exchanges with the sellers.

It was here at Ananda Temple that an almost strange phenomena began. It started off with one small group of girls, who asked our guide if they could have a picture taken with us. Of course we thought it a bit strange but they were so polite, about it that we obliged. Within minutes, some parents asked us to take pictures with their children, and then a group of older ethnic hill tribe ladies asked, and then a group of boys and then some more girls and so it went as we walked around the inside of the temple, following the corridors, we were approached. Our cheeks hurt from smiling and we got an unwanted taste of what celebrity life is like-even Billy too-a few groups pulled him into the shots as well. We didn’t mind, we actually found the whole thing entertaining but it was just as foreign to us as we were to them.

Our next stop was for lunch and since we were traveling in an area with a rather high risk of getting ill from food or water, I had done a lot of research ahead of time (we needed no repeats of Peru for Billy). So when I made it clear to our guide we needed to eat someplace reputable to Westerners, her suggestion hit the mark and was one of the places on my list-a vegetarian restaurant called Be Nice to Animals. We grabbed a table in the shade under a giant bougevvilla vine and enjoyed a cold beer, some delicious food and a great conversation with Ei.

Following lunch, we made our way to a clustered complex of Pagodas that was far quieter than the previous one and where we encountered some adorable children hawking their goods, including some hand drawn cards with a few of the symbols of the days of the week that are so important in the Buddhist religion. It was nice just to wander this complex in a bit more solitude.

Another quick ride and we found ourselves at Manuha Temple home to an enormous reclining buddha. The name “Manuha” was given after the Mon king from Thaton who was held captive in Bagan by King Anawrahta. Legend says that Manuha was allowed to build this temple in 1059, and that he constructed it to represent his displeasure at captivity.

We also happened upon a group of monks that were receiving alms in the form of money in the pavilion of the temple. Myanmar is 90% Buddhist and everywhere we stopped we saw monks of varying ages. There are even female monks, though we saw far fewer of them and only in Yangon so far.

At this point, Jenny was starting to fade quickly, as I think Billy was too, but Ei had suggested we could stop at one more temple, the largest in Bagan, and then watch the sunset from atop one of the pagodas that you are still allowed to climb and since that is an iconic activity in Bagan, Jenny insisted she wanted to do it.

Dhammayangyi Temple was built in 1170, and is the largest temple in Bagan.

Our final stop was for sunset. The main temple in this complex was under renovation but the smaller one was available to climb.

We made our way up the very narrow, very steep stairs and were greeted with a view out towards the Irrawaddy River and mountains beyond.

We took a seat on the edge and enjoyed our conversation with Ei as well as the silence that occurred between topics.

As the sun lowered in the sky, the color of the pagodas really began to take on the ochre glow they are famous for. The sunset was brilliant bright orange and yellow as it slipped behind the mountains.

While the sun was disappearing in the west, the full moon was rising in the east-truly spectacular!

 

December 23, 2018

Myanmar Memories…How Could It Possibly Get Any Better?

So I think by now everyone knows I’m afraid of heights-as a matter of fact last night I had to come down the pagoda’s stairs on my butt-going up is always so much easier! And perhaps you know I am not a great lover of flying-ironic right? And I think you all also know that Jenny has a way of, thankfully, getting me to do things I would otherwise not do (ie walking on glaciers, zip lining etc). Well, this trip proved no different.

When we decided on Myanmar, Bagan was the one destination that was of the utmost importance to her-check, no problem. But along with that came the request to go hot air ballooning over the archaeological zone. This was met by me with a quick and firm, “Are you kidding me? Ballooning in Myanmar? That is the last place I would let us do that-sorry no way.” End of story, right? Wrong!

As I began my research for Bagan everything I kept reading said you must take the hot air balloon ride-MUST! So, I figured reading up on it wouldn’t harm me and in my thorough research I would find the excuse I needed to prove my position. There must have been horrible accidents. They use shoddy equipment with poorly trained pilots. There must be no oversight or licensing or regulations. There must be something to justify my firm “No!”

Nope…nothing of the sort. They are licensed by the government under strict safety standards. All the pilots are from the UK, Australia, US or Spain with years of flying experience in not only their countries but in Africa and Turkey as well. There has never been one accident in all of the years of flying, and so it went….I came up empty handed.

OK. Next step-Trip Advisor reviews-surely someone has reported questionable safety practices or protocol. And wouldn’t you know there were some one star reviews but not for the reasons I was hoping for. The one star reviews were clearly written by fools who were mad that the company had canceled their flights the morning of when they deemed the flying conditions unsafe AND they gave them full refunds. Wait, what? People are mad about that? That is exactly what I would want to hear. I was losing hope I would have a leg to stand on.

But never one to take defeat easily, I came up with another solution to my dilemma, although in the back of my mind I was having a hard time not agreeing with how spectacular it looked-the images on my computer screen were swaying me.

In my last ditch effort to make sure my feet were going to stay planted on terra firma in Myanmar, I decided we would give Jenny the option between hot air ballooning or … I was certain she would go with Option B…of course she would, right? Nope! No such luck. There was no hesitation in her answer, “Ballooning in Bagan.” Defeat…

So why the long introduction? Because words can not describe how fantastic our flight was, so instead of a long description on that, I will let the pictures try to convey just how breathtaking it was. I loved every second of it but mostly I loved looking over at Jenny, eyes gazed downward, filled with wonderment and amazement! Thank you again Cheech for your spirit of adventure and always giving me the confidence that I can do it!

Back on terra firma, Billy turned to Jenny and I and thanked us. He said that it had probably been the most amazing thing he has ever done. Yessss! That that could become addicting-Uh Oh!!!!

I could end the day here. But the rest of our morning and afternoon was nothing short of memorable in different ways as well.

Our hotel offered a spa, that looked so lovely and zen like so Jenny and I decided to get massages. Our bodies were already hurting from sleeping on the rock hard beds that they have here in Myanmar and with the constant going going going and crazy waking hours, I thought an hour of relaxation and pampering, at the dirt cheap price of $23 was worth it. I even bet Jenny that she would fall asleep!

Wait, did I just say pampering? Ha!

Jenny and I were basically assaulted by two Myanmar women who could probably rip a 2×4 in half with their bare hands. They yanked us, pushed and pulled us, twisted us into pretzels, bent our extremities, used their feet as weapons of torture-pushing way too near places they shouldn’t have been. Holy crap, I thought as I lay there. What did we sign up for? This certainly didn’t imitate the picture advertising the “traditional” massage! At one point I had to bite my lip-partly because of the pain but mostly to stop myself from cracking up as I thought about asking Jenny, “Are you asleep yet?”

I suppose the upside is that Jenny and I got an ab workout afterwards laughing our a**es off at the “massage” we just suffered through. Note well taken, never to be forgotten- pay attention to your global location when you sign up for a traditional massage-in Sweden I think they are a good thing, in Southeast Asia-not so much. I think perhaps we should have opted for the aromatherapy. Whenever you have to take an Aleve immediately following your massage, well, that’s not a good sign!

For the afternoon, we decided to rent a tuk-tuk and drive to some of the other pagodas we missed yesterday that Ei had recommended we see. It was a different experience, zipping through the streets of Bagan in a turk-tuk with our friendly driver Phyu Phyu. The first stop was Bu Paya that sits high up on a bluff overlooking the Irrawaddy River.

By Paya was packed with locals when we got there and once again we became the main attraction. Mother’s literally pushed their kids in front of us, shy girls held their phones up and pointed to us, others positioned their children near us to get us in their shot.

The view over the Irrawaddy was beautiful. The scene below us was what I would envision for a major waterway in Southeast Asia. A flotilla of colorful river cruisers lined the shore. Cargo barges being pushed up river and long tail boats buzzing in all directions.

It’s amazing how beautifully dressed almost all the Myanmar women and girls are. They wear either ankle-length longhis or tailored dress suits in all of the brilliant bright jewel tones, all hand stitched with various designs-so elegant!

Deciding it was hot and too crowded, our faithful driver pulled up and we hopped in and headed out to one he said would not be so crowded-and he was right! We found solitude and shade and with only two people wanting Jenny’s photo. This temple had beautiful frescoes inside as well, some looking more heavily influenced by China. We lingered in the shade, under the pavilion, enjoying the cooling breeze and reliving our incredible morning flight.

As we got ready to leave, a lady selling some longhis approached Jenny and offered to thanaka her face. She was a friend of Phyu Phyu’s so Jenny took her up on the offer and was delighted to see that she had done it in the shape of leaves. Of course she offered to show us some longhis and traditional blouses which we actually were interested in and of course we walked away with some things. She was so sweet I couldn’t resist!

Lunch was at the same vegetarian restaurant as yesterday-when you can be pretty sure you didn’t get sick from some place-it’s always a smart idea to not tempt fate!

We asked Phyu Phyu, who had been born in Bagan, to take us to one of the temples he likes-that wouldn’t be crowded. Turned out Abeyandana Temple was next to the one we had climbed last night but was quiet and serene and it too had frescoes inside. Built in the 11th century by King Kyansittha for his queen the murals depict scenes from both Buddhism and Hinduism.

Outside the temple there was a lovely lady sitting selling items made from jade. Myanmar is famous for its jade reserves and Billy saw some things he liked. We sat on the step and chatted with her and her brother for over an hour, about life in general. She said she had only completed eighth grade but her son was attending the university to become an engineer. By the time we left we had purchased quite a few items. She said she felt blessed by us and so she asked Jenny to choose a bracelet to have as a gift for the good fortune we had brought her. It was a very kind gesture and when we tried to politely decline, she insisted.

Our last stop was at the Bagan House lacquerware shop. I had read about it and knew they had a huge workshop where you could see the items being made from start to finish. Phyu Phyu said it was a must so off we went.

We walked in through the gates to a beautiful courtyard where two adorable young girls approached us and asked if they could give us a presentation on the 6 week process it takes to produce one piece. The one girl was in training and was so cute how she presented the information.

There was a man sitting up on a table next to her who demonstrated the first steps to it peeling the bamboo into long super thin strands with help from his bare feet and then coiling them into the object they will permanently become. The man was cute, smiling with his bright red Bittle stained teeth and his black horn rimmed glasses. A master at what he does, I can only imagine the years of hard work he has put into it.

We enjoyed walking around, stopping at each station watching the various artisans at work. The gift shop was ridiculously enormous and we enjoyed picking out a few things for keepsakes and s few to take home as gifts.

By this time, we had stayed over our four hour rental and headed back to the hotel where we showered and collapsed.

We have been going nonstop since we left home, with a lot of early mornings and are a bit sleep deprived. Jenny couldn’t fathom going out for dinner and frankly, neither could Billy nor I. We decided to snack on foods we had and go to the restaurant for some drinks snd a slice of cake to go.

But…as we neared the pool we could hear Christmas carols being sung by children. A stage had been set up where local kids where rehearsing for the Christmas Eve party the hotel was hosting the following night. I texted Jenny it was taking place and wouldn’t you know, she dragged herself out of bed and joined us.

Her sheer delight in her face as she watched them intently singing to us, could not have been a more perfect way to end one of the most memorable days we have ever have.

Merry Christmas Eve!

 

December 24, 2018

How in the World Did You Find This Place?

Another early wake up this morning to get to the airport for our flight to our next destination-Samkar Lake. We arrived an hour before flight time only to be delayed two.

Our 30 minute flight was great and on our descent into Heho, the landscape changed quickly. Jenny and I both said it reminded us of Peru-the patchwork quilt of orange, red, brown and green fields.

We had a small glitch at the airport, our hotel was supposed to have someone there to meet us holding a sign with my name. We saw no one. I asked the tourist office if they could call, and we spent the next hour trying to figure out who we were supposed to ride with. When I thought we had it straightened out, Billy, always the one to think people have ulterior motives, was not comfortable with the situation-back to the office again, more phone calls, and yes-the man that had said he was our ride was indeed, even though his sign said he was picking up a Luigi something or another.

I had prearranged to stop for lunch at a restaurant I had read about from TA, as I knew we would be hungry and indeed we were. The restaurant turned out to be off the beaten path, up a long driveway in the hills with a distant view over Inle Lake. We were the only ones there which made me a bit worried, as right before we left I had read one review of people getting ill. Turned out it was not a restaurant per se, but just someone’s house with a large beautiful second story veranda, overlooking their organic vegetable and fruit gardens. I was a bit cautious what we ordered-everything cooked and it was all delicious, including the ice cold Myanmar beer.

Our driver then took us into the village of Nyaung Shwe where we met with our boat driver- a young guy with Betel stained teeth and his son of maybe 10 years on board with us. No English spoken here, but he quickly got our bags on board and we were off. (Betel is a nut that the locals chew, similar to chewing coca leaves in South America. It stains the teeth a bright red color).

The scene at the boat jetty was one of any stereotypical Asian river scene. Long-tail boats everywhere, moving cargo and passengers along the chocolate milk colored river. This boat was probably 30 feet long and 5 feet wide-gunwale to gunwale. It had four adirondack style chairs lined up one behind the other with the driver in the rear operating the incredibly loud air-cooled engine.

Our 3 1/2 hour boat ride from Inle Lake to Samkar Lake was spectacular. We passed by fisherman who row the boats with one foot wrapped around their oar, while standing and balancing on the tip of their shallow long-tail boat. They use either cone shaped hard wire nets or a hand held spindle (an early model of the modern day reel) to catch fish.

We went through the floating g gardens-a large village laid out in a grid in the middle of the lake where all of the vegetables, tomatoes especially, are grown hydroponically-absolutions remarkable!

We passed pagodas and temples, some solo out in the lake similar to a lighthouse, some lining the distant shores.

From Inle Lake we followed the small water outlet south. And I mean small-sometimes the width was no more than two feet, a few times it disappeared completely having been swallowed up by the ever shifting water hyacinth. Thank goodness our trusty driver knew his way.

There were times that there were small grass berms across the narrow waterway and our driver would just gun the bow right over them and lift his engine using the long handle of the tiller to clear the boat-wild!

About three hours into the ride we came to an area of hundreds of stupas built one right next to the other. Our driver pulled the boat over and we followed the sound of chanting and found a monk leading a group of children in prayer. Not wanting to be obstrusive, we moved on. Tarkaung was a mystical maze of wonderment!

We continued on and came into Samkar Lake, a large lake surrounded by verdant mountains on both sides. Our hotel, Inle Sanctuary Phayartaung, lies on the very south end. We approached through a channel marked by 12 foot high bamboo poles that have equally as long poles tied to them horizontally holding along the water line to keep the hyacinth from choking off the channel.

Pulling up to the dock, motor shut off, we stand up and the first thing Billy says is, “How in the world did you ever find this place? WOW! “

Our host for the next three days, Aung Min, greeted us warmly and with sincere apologies for the mix up at the airport, with which we had laughs and decided that hence forth I would be known as Luigi!

We sat and had a cup of his tea with him and his darling wife, Gaw. We soaked in the incredible beauty that surrounded us as well as the fantastic accommodations that were to be our home for the next three days.

We had a fantastic dinner prepared by Gaw of curry pork, sweet and sour chicken, smashed potatoes, sticky rice and bean soup-all delicious!

We have no plans while we are at Samkar, except to experience the local village life and relax in the natural beauty. Jenny had concerns there wouldn’t be enough nature on this trip-I think that today has put her mind at ease. She is in her element here, frankly we all are.

 

December 25, 2018

Mingalabar and A Very Merry Christmas

This morning we slept in and enjoyed a few hours extra sleep, even with the Myanmar roosters that like to get a very early start!

We had a delicious breakfast before heading out to walk around the village with our ultimate destination being the monastery.

As we walked the streets of Lwe Nwe Phayartaung Yay Seit village, it was clear we were the only foreigners around. People were looking at us intently but were all too happy to return our greeting of, “Mingalabar” with warm smiles and waves. Children would come running up waving and calling out to us. It was so cute!

We turned up a steep hill, passing the government run schools where we could hear classrooms full of students reciting their lessons in unison.

We reached the top where there was a beautiful octagonal temple with statues of Buddha at each of the cardinal direction entrances.

We continued on until we came to a large field with a huge covered pavilion with tables and benches set up. We saw groups of children starting to make their way across the field towards us, followed by more and then more and more. Around this time a girl of maybe 18 years approached us and began speaking with us. She was a volunteer here at the monastery, she explained. She told us that the monastery takes care of close to 1,000 children-feeding them three meals a day and housing them. They attend the government school for education but get their meals and housing provided for by the monastery. The monastery also takes care of about 40 orphans, mostly aged 3-5 years.

The young lady asked if we would like to take a look around, to which we happily agreed. She took us to the outdoor kitchen first where she showed us the rice steamers-these were incredible, each steamer held eight 24” round pans of rice stacked one on top of another like a tower, and they had at least ten of these steamers. We watched the women and men working preparing the curry for the lunch meal. As soon as one meal is finished, preparation on the next meal begins, breakfast prep begins at 1:00 AM.

We walked past a large building that we were told is the computer building of HPs and Lenovos, donated by a wealthy American. We walked on to the water purifying building that a weatlthy Englishman had donated. When he came here ten years ago, he watched the kids drinking from the lake and noticed that many had skin issues and the such. He decided that that could not continue so he built a purification system for them, bringing the water in from underground springs in the hills. It is now the main money maker to help underwrite the cost for the meals for the monastery-selling bottled water.

Our guide also explained to us that the monastery has electricity thanks to the brother of the wealthy businessman who brought in the computers. The entire village is without formal electricity. A charitable organization brought in some solar power for the village but there is no electricity. The businessman paid to have lines run from the hydroelectric dam down from Samkar Lake.

From there we returned to the pavilion where the children had gathered for lunch. The head monk, who founded the monastery 46 years ago, was also enjoying his lunch. He invited us to sit down and they immediately brought us tea, avocados, and bananas to eat. He asked us to stay for lunch but we had to decline him (not an easy thing to do) as we had told the hotel we would be back for lunch and they were preparing it for us already.

After seeing the selfless work this monk and all of the volunteers do, we told them we would like to make a gift to them. We were taken into the monk’s office where he joined us and we made a donation of all the US cash we had on us at the time. It was placed onto a silver platter where the three of us then kneeled, and with all of our hands on the platter handed it to the monk who said a prayer wishing us health, wealth and good fortune for the future. What an incredibly moving experience it was for us and how perfect to spend our Christmas giving to something that does so much good for so many children-truly inspiring. We hope to figure a way to make an annual gift to them; it is so deserved!

We headed back to the hotel where we enjoyed a scrumptious lunch of Shan noodles-something this area is known for.

We relaxed on the verandah for a bit before Jenny and I became restless to go back out and mingle with the people. This time though, Jenny brought her instant camera to offer photos to the villagers. Needless to say, it was a huge hit with young and old alike. The older people especially giggled and laughed at themselves-while one older gentleman in particular, who spoke some English, likened himself to “James Bond.”

Because Myanmar had at one time been under British colonial rule, and by the way, known then as Burma, there is a small percentage of the much older generation who can speak English. The next two generations speak little to none, and the youngest generation are again being taught it in school.

All told Jenny gave out over fifty photographs. It was such a rewarding experience to give pictures to the villagers, most who had never seen ones of themselves. Two ladies even asked for an instant picture of Jenny and I, which we obliged.

Back again at the hotel we relaxed some more, only to get the itch to return to the village but this time without the instant camera. We just wanted to wander along. Now that it was later in the day, many of the children were out and about. Everyone of them waved at us. Kids and adults alike were running out of their houses or calling from their upstairs windows, “Mingalabar!” Kids would say, “Hello, where you come from?” “Where you go?” Literally every household waved at us-it was really a moving experience and though I had my phone with me, I could not bring myself to take one picture. It was just too special.

Our interaction with the locals has been like no other. Coming into this trip we weren’t too sure what to expect except from those who had been here and said how fabulous it is. We couldn’t agree more-it is beyond our wildest imagination!

 

December 26, 2018

Life in Perspective

This morning I woke up with the roosters crowing and the sound of what reminded me of a pit car rally with a dozen or more long-tail boats arriving for the five day market that takes place right next door to the hotel. I peered out the window to see what had the makings to be a glorious sunrise, so I hightailed it out of the room. Indeed the sunrise was glorious with Venus still sitting high in the sky.

I walked over the elevated boardwalk to the market and could not believe how bustling it already was at 6:15 AM. Many of the stalls that were empty last night had been filled to capacity now. Every good imaginable, from foods to consumer goods to prepared meals was available.

The streets were lined with women wearing their brightly colored head wraps, who had come from neighboring villages or from high in the hills. They sat on the ground with their fresh produce laid out in front of them.

A few had clearly never seen a westerner before as their eyes about popped out of their heads. They giggled and laughed at me and then with me as I laughed along.

When I squatted down to take a closer look at what one of the ladies was selling, something wrapped in a banana leaf, she offered me a handful of peanuts that she was selling. I tried to decline them but she insisted, miming that they were from her to me and that I was supposed to eat them.

Once peeled, they were a bit strange, slightly slimy but sweet. It was a kind gesture from someone who had so little and was selling them to just give them to me for free.

I ran into James Bond, he asked me where I was from. He said America is a “good country” and gave me a big thumbs up.

I returned from my walkabout and waited for Billy and Jenny to join me for breakfast. After another delicious breakfast, we headed out for the day’s small adventure. Billy wanted to hike up to the hot springs that were about an hour’s walk through the adjacent village. It was hot as the sun was high in the sky and there was little shade but we wanted to get out into the countryside. Unfortunately, we forgot to apply sunscreen for which we are paying for now!

The walk along the country roads was peaceful, and we enjoyed admiring the various colorful flowers and butterflies.

The hot springs basically bubbled up from the ground and formed small pools. Nothing really to see but I suppose a bit different.

The walk back was great though, as we figured out a shortcut through a farmer’s field and straight through the main street of the village. If people in the village our hotel is in were not used to westerners then I can assure you the neighboring village of Yay Pu were even more shocked by our presence. As a matter of fact, we did not cross paths with one other westerner on any of our walkabouts-not one!

Yay Pu village was quite a bit different then ours. The houses seemed more traditional-elevated and made out of bamboo and fronds. The walk back was a bit cooler, with some more shade and by the time we made it to the hotel we were famished and thirsty.

We had a delicious lunch of stir fried Shan Noodles with chicken and vegetables, and a chicken and taro root soup.

Following lunch, it was time to relax a bit-in the shade of our back deck overlooking the hyacinth and grasses looking on to Samkar Lake in the distance.

Of course, Jenny and I got the itch to walk into the village again-we just can’t resist! Once again, we were warmly greeted by all of the villagers. We were invited to join a group of boys having an absolute ball playing volleyball, we declined. Our hearts were melted when two little girls followed us down the road a ways and then handed Jenny a flower. A bit later two little boys came running out of their houses at both of us-full force and threw their arms around our legs.

Jenny said that this is really the way life should be-kids running around, laughing and playing-no fences and no worries. Playing sports for fun-not for competition, imagine that? Innocence allowed and encouraged.

We decided that these villagers were far richer than we were in so many ways. Being in this village, has certainly put life into perspective…

 

December 27, 2018

Today We All Hate Goodbye

Another early wake up for me to watch the sun rise over this magical place. The fog rising from the lake along with the long rays of golden light gave a mystical feel.

I wandered over the bridge, through the now deserted market and on to the main road, where there was hardly a soul in sight. Yesterday at this same time, the village was buzzing with the market; today all was quiet. I sat down on the bare floor of one of the market’s stalls to wait and watch for village life.

Houses here have no heat and with Samkar Lake being in the hill country, at an elevation of just shy of 3,000’, it gets really chilly in the winter-like 50°. I watched as villagers emerged from their homes to collect whatever they could find-dried leaves, cardboard, old rice sacks- to burn for warmth. Ladies would go to the lake with a bucket to bring back water, I would assume to use for cooking rice.

I watched a man and his baby leaving by ox cart and as I sat there quietly he caught sight of me, even with the glaring sun and greeted me with a big wave and, “Mingalabar!”

As I sat in otherwise silence, I heard singing coming from the lake. I made my way down through the heavily rutted alleyways of the market to find a fisherman laying his line out, singing to himself. I squatted down behind a wall and listened for some time-the scene was mesmerizing. So simple yet so incredibly beautiful. He too saw me and waved and greeted me.

Back at the hotel, Billy was already out on the verandah so we sat down for coffee and I shared my pictures and videos from earlier.

We enjoyed a final delicious breakfast of Gaw’s wonderful cooking. I have broken all my rules here-we have eaten eggs, chicken, and raw tomatoes-all with zero issues under Gaw’s stringent hygiene regime.

For the last few hours, I had wanted to walk around the other side of the village to a goldsmith workshop and then on to a weaving workshop. We hadn’t gotten far when we watched a farmer herding a group of water buffalos-so cool watching them go right into the flooded fields!

We wound our way through the small streets, greeting everyone. It is so funny how at first the villagers stare at you completely stone faced with no expression except an intense stare. As soon as you greet them, their face softens and they get a big smile-flashing pearly whites or ruby reds, and then greet you with enthusiasm and sincerity.

After stopping to show half a dozen people the words Aung had written down for me, and then having four cute girls actually lead us there, we made it to the goldsmith’s house only to find an elderly lady tell them he wasn’t there. With the huge language barrier, the young girl told us we should come back but she didn’t understand when we said we couldn’t because we were leaving in a few hours. It made Jenny sad that the old lady was probably excited we were there and might buy something only to be disappointed when we never return.

We couldn’t find the weavers shop and when we showed the words to someone they took us to a store that only had three weaved items for sale.

We returned to the hotel and told Aung we had struck out. He asked if we wanted to go to the weaver’s workshop and since Jenny and I both did, he offered to have one of the guys take us up by “canoe.” We jumped at the chance to not only ride local style but see the workshop.

It was funny that even far off in the lake the kids would holler greetings and wave-our oarsman laughing at it. He brought us ashore perfectly and lead us up to the workshop. It was a small building with two weavers on looms and two little girls, presumably the ladies’ daughters, having fun spinning.

The selection was slim but we bought three shoulder sacks-the traditional bags they carry cross shoulder. They had a small one perfect for my phone that I got because when I wear my skirt-I have no pockets.

We walked back to the hotel-greeting everybody again-even though we had just greeted them 20 minutes prior and declining another offer to join in a volleyball game. The adorable young girls who have Jenny a flower yesterday, came running up and gave both of us flowers today.

After our final scrumptious meal of this leg of our journey, stir fried Shan noodles and a mustard green soup, we made our very sad goodbyes to the people of Inle Sanctuary Pharyataung-Aung, Gaw, San and Myu who had taken such good care of us and insisted we make ourselves at home-we felt like we were. We were going to miss all the homemade food and delicious fresh juices, the breathtaking views, our cozy bungalow, the incredibly friendly people of the village, the way we felt when we were there. Everyone knows Jenny hates goodbyes; today we all did.

This place, these people have touched us in ways unknown. Jenny asked if she didn’t get accepted into the NISL-Y program, could she come back here and volunteer at the monastery for a few weeks. What a wonderful idea!

We hopped in our long tail boat and made the one hour journey south through narrow water ways until we entered the very large Pekon Lake.

The ride was spectacular looking off to the rugged mountains that wear a mysterious veil of blue haze caused by the omnipresent smoke from burning fires. Every small village or high above it in the hills had a golden topped pagoda. I saw the first cross atop a steeple I had seen since we passed by the cathedral in Yangon.

Our drop off and pick up was flawless and before we knew it we were zipping along down what was apparently supposed to be a two way road, except it was only wide enough for one car. The bigger you were or the braver you were seemed to determine who got to keep all four tires on the smooth asphalt versus who ran two tires off the road all the while holding your speed steady. The consolation was that this was the first car we had traveled in that actually had working seatbelts-and my mom was worried about us traveling by boat!

Our home for the next three nights, Loikaw Lodge appears to be a winner. We have a beautiful room overlooking a small lake with the most glorious sunsets I have been lucky enough to witness in some time.

December 28, 2018

We started our morning with no plans but Jenny began to wonder if maybe we should do something in the afternoon. We decided on a tour to the Lisu Village, one of 135 ethnic tribes that live in Myanmar.

Not one to sit still, I decided I would walk to the market to buy some new flip flops as I broke my favorite ones yesterday crossing back over the elevated walkway. I also figured I could check out some of Loikaw town. Billy offered to join and so we left Jenny to chillax in bed and we headed out.

Truth be told, there is not much to write about on this front so I’ll just post a few pictures from our walkabout.

The afternoon, on the other hand, was beyond memorable.

Our guide, Jalieuw picked us up at 1:30 to make the hour and fifteen minute trip to the Lisu village in the hills of Kayah State. Every drive in Myanmar takes one past sights that are always foreign to us-take for example a flat bed truck carrying loads of people-crammed in so tightly that some are sitting on the edge with their backs facing out-on Myanmar ‘s bumpy roads-that’s a dangerous proposition. Or better yet, how about 5 people and a dog all on a motorbike zipping through town while the driver is talking on his cell phone!

 

We turned off the highway onto a small one lane dirt road, passing fields of dried up corn and rice. Arriving in the small village of traditional style homes we were met with silence, save for the occasional crowing rooster or snorting pig. We followed Jolieuw through the streets until we reached a home that he said we should come into. We took our shoes off and made our way upstairs to the open air veranda where a village elder was sitting on the floor.

She got up and spit the bettle out of her mouth over the railing and then sat back down, inviting us to have a seat on a very low lying bench-knees to chin style.

The woman’s jet black hair was pulled tightly back, her dark skin creased with time and her mouth and what few remaining teeth she had were stained ruby red. She looked to me to be older than the 72 years she said she was. She wore her traditional dress of woven red cloth decorated with colorful stitching at the cuffs. Under her black skirt, she had on what we might call leg warmers that coordinated with the top. She had small tattoos along her cheekbone and wrist, apparently that would protect her from anyone who wanted to “bewitch” her.

She told us about her family, her life here and that she was happy we were there visiting with her. Not long after, three boys showed up, intrigued by the foreigners who had come, and clearly a bit mischievous as confirmed by Jolieuw’s nickname for the one, “Naughty Boy.”

We asked the lady if she would like a picture of herself and she said yes. She would like it to pass down after she is gone she said. She sat stoic as Jenny took her photo but as she watched the image slowly appear her eyes widened and she giggled with delight saying how happy she was. She said she wasn’t so pretty with her brown skin and wrinkles, that our fair skin was much more attractive, but she delighted with the image she held in her hands.

The young boys now crowded around her and were awed by what they saw.

Jenny offered to take their pictures, along with two more boys who showed up, and they all happily agreed-some with very serious faces, others, especially Naughty Boy, smiling big.

After 25 minutes or so, we gave the elder the gifts we had stopped and picked up at a roadside market-cooking oil and dried rice noodles. She was appreciative and wished us well for a long life and safe journey. What a truly wonderful experience.

We walked through the village, Jolieuw pointing out various aspects of village life, all the while being tailed by the group of frolicking boys.

At one point we came to a ravine that had a few logs laying across it that we were to cross. I made the boys cross ahead of me because I did not want them pushing quickly behind me. They basically ran across as though they were in a field. They got a good laugh at how very slowly I crossed and were equally amused by Billy.

We stopped to admire pumpkin seeds drying in the sun, along with beans, corn and chilies.

An older lady approached us and immediately took a liking to Jenny. We offered her a photograph and when she saw it, she disappeared quickly returning with a beautiful smock. Before we knew it, she was dressing Jenny in it, adorning it with a beautiful belt, similar to a western concho. Jolieuw told us that the belt was very special and held great meaning to her. She told us we should take a photograph of Jenny wearing it. She also said she would like to have a photograph of she and Jenny together-which of course we were all to happy to do. She gave Jolieuw a pumpkin to take home, thanking him for bringing us to the village-a kind gesture.

Our last stop was at another elders home except this woman lived in a truly traditional style home-a one story, one room house with a dirt floor. One corner had the “kitchen” while an elevated bamboo bed lined the knee wall. The ceiling of the entire room was pitch black from the smoke that now burned our eyes and lungs. Except for a door on one end and the unintentional openings between the bamboo walls, there was no ventilation.

She was also dressed in traditional clothing in lovely shades of purple but she wore a head wrap, that looked similar to a terry cloth towel. She sat on a low bench and chatted with us about her life-she had been married and divorced three times. She had one child with each husband of which one was living.

She would get up every now and then to tend to the fire-a small flame that was kept going by two 3-foot long logs that she would push further in towards the center leaving them sticking out. She would then add some more water to the kettle that was on the flame as well.

She also was very excited with her picture and the gifts we had brought. She thanked us for coming and asked for us to please return to see her.

Nothing would bring us greater pleasure than to do just that.

On our way back to the hotel, we made a stop at a cave that houses over 65 Buddha statues. It has beautiful stalagmites and stalactites and we had fun trying to find all the buddha’s.

We returned to Loikaw Lodge just in time to watch another incredible sunset from the comfort of our room-wow! Myanmar stuns!

 

December 29, 2018

Laughter is its Own Language

This morning we were met by another guide, Maung, to take us to the three day market in Demawso before heading to visit two more hill tribes.

Demawso Market was certainly about as shocking a cultural immersion experience as one could ask for. The sights, and sounds and smells were a real assault to our senses. The outdoor market was at its busiest on Saturday morning and there was no shortage of things to see. We were the only westerners there and were again, something of a curiosity.

We stopped to watch a lady making a salad with beef skin mixed with coriander, lime, spices, shallots and chile’s-it looked and smelled delicious-but I didn’t dare. She asked Maung where we were from and then wanted to know my name. When I told her, she repeated it perfectly and then asked Maung if I was Catholic. Interestingly enough, though Myanmar as a whole is 90% Buddhist, Kayah State is 60% Catholic and 35% Buddhist-with the remaining 4% being Animist and 1 % Muslim.

We came across a vendor selling small song birds-swallows and sparrows, that were reportedly great eating. They were still alive, their feet tied together to bamboo so they couldn’t fly away-Jenny couldn’t look. And while I did not appreciate the sight, I recognized it as a cultural difference and make no judgement. We realized then that the children we saw back at Samkar Lake that were walking around with a slingshot were bird hunting.

The meat and chicken for sale was a source of bewilderment as well. It appeared every part of the animal was available, sitting out in the sun for everyone to touch while haggling prices. The amazing thing was there were no flies like one would expect.

After leaving the market, we headed for the hills to visit the Kayan Tribe, also known as the Long Neck Women. There are multiple theories that anthropologists have as to why the women wear the incredibly heavy brass coils that give them an elongated neck look-in fact the weight of the coils compresses the collar bones and rib cage; they do not actually elongate the neck.

It has been thought that it was protection from tiger attacks, or that it allowed the tribespeople to recognize their members if they were kidnapped by other local tribes. More common is that it shows their belief in their origination from the dragon.

The drive was incredible, passing through valleys surrounded by small, heavily treed, conical mountains characteristic of karst topography.

We arrived into the village of Panpet and were quickly struck by how commercial it felt, almost a bit too touristy for us. In fact, this was the first place we shared space, so to speak, with another Westerner. We were welcomed into the home of one family which was certainly different from our previous home visits.

We met with two well-known Kayan women, both weavers and musicians. While it was interesting, it did not feel too authentic, but that was about to change.

Back at the hotel, I had met our guide first. Waiting for Billy and Jenny to come down, we began to chat. Maung is a Kayan, and though he lived in a refugee camp for many years, he still has some connections there. He told me his great aunt lived in a village near where we were headed and when he saw my interest, he asked if I thought we would like to visit her, to which I had replied of course.

We drove further into the hills before we turned off onto a small lane, covered red with dirt. We stopped outside of a traditional style house and made our way through the yard and up the stairs where there was a group of children sitting on the landing eating sunflower seeds.

We made our way inside; the first large room was completely empty except for a rattan mat. We went through a small doorway into another room where there was a beautiful woman sitting, tending a fire. Maung warmly greeted her as she did in return. She invited us to sit down with her, so we gladly did. Again, we learned of her life and more about Maung’s. When she learned we were from America she asked if we knew her sister, Maung’s grandmother, who had fled there along with her husband many years ago.

Her own husband had died more than a decade ago as well as some of her own children. She has something like 48 grandchildren and 23 great grandchildren living now.

Her home was incredibly sparse, save for the large pots of fermenting rice wine. Even the sleeping room, only had a small mattress and some colorful blankets-that was it.

Our visit here was as authentic as it gets. Maung’s lovely great aunt, both humble and welcoming, was afraid we might be hungry and offered for us to stay for lunch, which we respectfully declined.

Upon leaving there were many kids in the yard and around our car. Jenny offered them a photo and everyone except one lined up for their picture. It was such a hit and met by so many laughs.

The second village we visited was home to the Kayah tribe ( not to be confused with Kayan), which only opened to outsiders three years ago, but they have quickly figured out that they should capitalize on the public’s interest. Even though there was a fee to wander the village, it did not feel commercialized in the least bit, nor did we see any other Westerners.

Maung took us to the home of an older couple, who invited us to sit down in their outdoor space where we were treated to some traditional music and songs. When I asked what the gentleman was singing about, I was told he was thanking us for coming to his village. The woman was dressed in traditional attire with the heavy earrings and necklace made of silver coins-Indian rupees actually. Her knees were adorned with the black cotton coils that the Kayah tribe is known for wearing.

After leaving their home we made our way to another woman’s home who was as adorable as the day is long. She took such a liking to Jenny and her fair skin and kept saying how beautiful she was.

She too invited us into her home where we watched her spin cotton into long threads that she would eventually dye black and tie around her knees. She spun each one of us a thread that she then tied around oh wrists, a simple yet thoughtful gesture.

She was curious if we had only one child, who would take care of us when we got old. We laughed about the advice she offered up-Jenny needed to make sure that her future husband likes her parents-come on, how could they not? We laughed at how she called Billy out for being tired-he was. We laughed at how incredibly limber she was she could bend in half and grab the bottoms of her feet. We laughed at how incredibly rigid we were, we could barely get our hands passed our knees. It was a very sincere yet fun time that we spent in her home. She was a doll and when we walked out, Jenny said it made her miss Nana.

Our time spent with the ethnic people of Myanmar, as well as out two guides, was a truly magical experience. To see such kindness in welcoming us into their villages and homes, and sharing with us their culture and traditions, was beyond rewarding. Though the town of Loikaw left us no impression, the surrounding tribes certainly did.

December 30, 2018

Today We Have Heavy Hearts

We had an early morning again, this time to catch one of our three flights of the day to get to our next destination of Cambodia.

We arrived at Loikaw airport where the airline was using a computer to check us in, and immigration was recording everything by hand in a large ledger book. The local airports we have flown in and out of have been quite something-white boards to keep the arrivals and departures up to date, my bag got flagged for a bottle of water, but Jenny’s did not (and actually I had two but they only asked for one), metal detectors to get into the waiting area but the backdoor was open to the outside; all so funny.

Our flight to Yangon was easy, on another one of the prop planes that are actually incredibly quiet. We all remarked how elegant the flight attendants uniforms are on the various Myanmar airlines.

I can not express how sad we were to leave Myanmar. The landscape, the culture, the food, but most importantly the people struck a deep chord with us. If it were closer, we would return often-that is for sure. But even with it so far away, I can not imagine never returning. When we do, we hope to find it just as we left it, though we wold be fool-hearty to believe in would be. Until that time comes, we will hold tightly to our memories of the smiling faces of the beautiful people and allow the sounds of “Mingalabar” to reverberate in our ears and in our hearts.

Some images of Myanmar:

 

December 31, 2018

A Hero Among Us

I woke up at 3:30 this morning following a dream I had about someone who I loved dearly that passed away more than twenty years ago. I had not dreamt of her in quite some time but she came to me last night, hugging Jenny and telling her how nice it was to see her again. I tell you this because it is not so strange to have dreamt of her, I tell you this because after laying awake following the dream, I realized that today was her birthday. I tell you this because of the symbolism I found in that dream. Today we were going to do something she would have been proud of, something she felt strongly about, something she dedicated her life and legacy to.

We were met downstairs at 8:00 AM by a lady named Ponheary Ly. Ponheary was born and raised in Siem Reap and has been a licensed guide here since 1999. She was petite and attractive, with a wonderful smile and gentle demeanor. I immediately felt a connection to her and knew we would have a great day.

We jumped in the van and headed off to purchase our tickets to enter the Angkor Wat complex. The first temple we were planning on visiting was scratched when we arrived to a mass of cars, tour buses, motorcycles and tuk-tuks, as well as hordes of tourists, almost all of whom were from China. Ponheary said for us to go to another temple-we agreed without hesitation!

The second temple, appeared not much better with the above chaos but we decided to give it a whirl. Bayon was built towards the end of the 12th century and is a marvel in depicting the daily life of the Khmer people.

The reliefs were incredible in their detail, and it was amazing how intact they still were.

The temple is known for all of the smiling Buddhas (which apparently have a striking resemblance to King Jayavarman VII, who built Bayon).

The temple was visually stunning but difficult to enjoy as much as we would have otherwise without the crowds, but Ponheary did an excellent job working her way around the people to give us a good overview.

The next temple we went to was way older then Bayon. Bantea Srey was built in 967, dedicated to the Hindu god Shiva. It was clearly different from Bayon, this one being done on a much smaller scale and reddish in color.

It was hot here and the crowds just as heavy but again Ponheary maneuvered us through with expertise-giving us just the right amount of information, not inundating us with too much, or depriving us with too little.

In between the temples and walking along, we learned much about Ponheary’s life. She speaks French, English and Russia (having lived there for one year). She lost her father, grandfather, uncles and aunts to the Khmer Rouge. She watched as atrocities happened to her mother by the same forces. She went through what thousands of other innocent Cambodians did, but she came through it with a mission to rise above it. She became a tour guide and it is while doing this, she noticed the children hawking items to the tourists and begging for money, instead of attending school. Her father had been a teacher and even though the war prevented her from completing school beyond grade 7, she more than understood the power of education-thus the impetus of change was born. Her destiny was to alter the course that too many of Cambodia’s children were on. Ponheary has diligently followed through on that mission without fail ever since.

What you don’t know, but we already knew about our “guide” for today, is Ponheary really isn’t a tour guide any more. She has far bigger things she does with her time. What is that you may be wondering. Well, would it surprise you to learn that this extraordinary woman, humble and demure has spoken at UN conferences, UNESCO symposiums, received numerous awards, been written up by National Geographic and was one of ten finalists for CNN’s Hero of the Year, just to name a few?

Up to this point we already felt beyond lucky to have spent a few hours with Ponheary, but we were about to be blessed beyond belief by the next two hours of our afternoon.

We pulled into the driveway of a pretty stucco building where we immediately saw the children, dressed in their blue and white uniforms, milling about. Exiting the van with Ponheary, they were quick to recognize us as the foreigners they had been waiting for. We heard students reciting lessons in one of two rooms that are the school’s classrooms, while Ponheary was warmly greeted by her students and the van driver unloaded the stash of backpacks we had purchased for the 99 children that make up the grade 4-6 class here.

Ponheary gave us a tour of the current building-two classrooms-one much larger than the other, one computer lab (stocked with pcs), and an outdoor kitchen for providing the students with meals. The property the school sits on belongs to the older lady who lives next door-she actually came over and brought Ponheary a bag of freshly harvested greens from her garden; pending funding, they have plans to build a new building to include a community center (which the school has already defaulted to on weekends and in the summer) in the rear of the property.

The school operates in conjunction with the government schools providing the students that show the most capabilities and determination with extra schooling, meals, supplies, and sometimes even bikes, that the students need in order to succeed. Here they have four classes-English, Science, Music and…Chess. Chess? Yes! A brilliant addition that, as Ponheary was quick to point out, requires you to really use your mind-her students have taken numerous first and second place awards in tournaments hosted by organizations from the UK.

Besides operating this school, which provides classes in the AM to kids in grades 1-3 before rotating with grades 4-6, Ponheary provides opportunity right through high school for the highest academic achievers, and for others still provides for their years at the university in Phnom Penh, including a new laptop to take with them and helps to find sponsors for them if they want to continue on to get their masters and doctorates; as well as she provides dormitories in Siem Reap for children who go to school in Siem Reap but whose family’s live in the country. I do her and her fabulous organization no justice in my simple explanation but suffice it to say, what she does for thousands of children, is nothing short of a miracle-and did I mention how humble she is?

When the children were done with their lessons, they lined up in order, single file to await the moment they had been waiting for.

One by one their names were called and they walked up and chose a new backpack that would be theirs to keep. After each child carefully selected their new backpack, they brought their hands together similar to the hands of prayer and said “Thank you,” to us.

When all the backpacks were handed out, the kids all held them up and thanked us again.

We were then treated to something even more special than watching the excitement as they transferred their supplies from their old tattered, literally falling apart backpacks to their brand new ones.

We were treated to a mini concert of singing accompanied by some playing ukuleles. First song up, and the tears starting forming- “You are my Sunshine.”

This was followed by “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and then a beautiful Khmer song. All so touching and real.

When it was all said and done, our hearts were melted by these beautiful children who are trying so hard to overcome so much adversity-some stories, which I won’t share, to horrible to comprehend. And here is this beautiful soul, in the form of Ponheary Ly, who never asked for credit, who did not even know that a woman from Baltimore had nominated her to CNN until she watched the video clip in New York at the CNN awards ceremony. Who is so selective in who she accepts money from for fear the donors are more interested in using her organization as a bragging board than being interested in the well-being of the children.

Ponheary is a remarkably courageous, selfless woman, who is always quick to give credit to others including Lori Carson, the foundations president, who started it all by forming the 501c3 in the US, as well as the foundation staff and school’s teachers. It was a truly inspirational afternoon that proves that one person’s determination can change the course of many. You are to be commended, Ponheary!

Please read more about the Ponheary Ly Foundation and some of her accolades at the following websites. If you are going to Siem Reap, please consider volunteering with or donating to this extraordinary organization. And if you don’t have the time or aren’t going but moved by one woman’s mission to help change lives through education, consider giving-she’s even a registered 501c3 in the United States.

http://www.theplf.org/wp2/

and

http://edition.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/06/18/cnnheroes.ly.cambodia/index.html

and

https://worldofchildren.org/honoree/ponheary-ly/

 

 

January 1, 2019

Could We be so Blessed…Two Days in a Row

Today was supposed to be a take it easy at the spa and the pool day but yesterday when Ponheary dropped us off, she said she was free today and if we would like, she would take us on the tour we had booked for the following day through her guesthouse, Seven Candles. We were flattered that she wanted to spend another day with us, and since we connected with her so well-we jumped at the chance.

Our plan for today was to go to Kampong Khlang fishing village on Tonlè Sap Lake, followed by visiting one of the outer temples-Beng Melea.

The traffic leaving out of Siem Reap was horrendous-Jenny likened it to the Jersey Turnpike over Thanksgiving weekend. The difference being that this road is a two lane road, well it usually is. Today the road got expanded to five lanes, all going one direction, which needless to say caused some serious issues-at one point we were in the same spot for at least fifteen minutes-people were taking photos and video of the traffic jam. Apparently, people were headed back to Phnom Penh after the long weekend and were in a hurry. It really was very amusing watching people create lanes on the sides of the road.

Because we were stuck in so much traffic, the ever flexible and resourceful Ponheary said we should switch plans and do the temple first because we could take backroads to get there. Agreed! The drive was certainly backroads but beautiful.

We reached Beng Melea about an hour and a half later and were a bit bummed to find the parking lot so crowded. The good news was that the temple grounds are fairly large and the majority of the tour groups don’t really stop-they just walk along quickly snapping pictures and keep on moving. That worked to our advantage as Ponheary is like us, she likes to soak in her surroundings.

I mentioned before that she is a perfect guide for us-not feeling the need to be talking incessantly, allowing for time of reflection for her as well as for us to enjoy. Beng Melea, she said, is her favorite temple. It is in the jungle, but not as much as it once was when Ponheary first visited it more ten years ago. Back then, Ponheary came out here and explored the ruins by hand and foot and had to be careful of undetonated land mines.

Today, the temple is completely unrestored with much of its original structure standing in heaps of immense stone. Strangler figs choke the trees and threaten the remaining walls. Similar to Ta Prohm, which we visited yesterday afternoon following the backpack distribution, Beng Melea feels more like an adventure than the other temples. An elevated walkway has been built to help negotiate through the rubble, taking a little of the Indiana Jones feeling away.

Jenny quickly decided that this too was her favorite temple/she loved the shade the jungle canopy provided, the fact that though crowded it still allowed for us to find ourselves alone now and then, and there were corners one could retreat to to find solitude.

Following Beng Melea and a stop for lunch, we made the hour drive to Kampong Khlang fishing village on Tonlè Sap Lake.

Tonlè Sap is the largest freshwater lake in SE Asia, designated a UNESCO bioreserve in 1997, its surface area fluctuates between 2,500 sq km to 16,000 sq km, depending on the season. Because Kampong Khlang is the remotest of the fishing villages located nearest to Siem Real, it is the least visited and still very authentic.

Our drive into the village was like nothing we had ever seen before. The homes are built on stilts some thirty feet above the current water level- which fluctuates between 1 meter and 10 meters-again depending on the season.

The first thing that struck me was the immense amount of plastic pollution-never, ever have I seen anything like it. After this trip to Asia, I have decided that plastic is the invention of the devil, an ecological poison-I can assure you, my consumption of plastic, though already minimal, will be even more so.

This entire village depends on the waters of the lake and the fish that live there. We stopped the car to get out and see how the fish is dried and smoked to prepare it for selling. Unfortunately for us, the spot we stopped was also where they prepare the other fish parts that are used to make fish paste and fish sauce. When the van door slid open, we all about died from the putrid stench, but we held our breaths and emerged to take a look at what drives the economy of this village.

Continuing on down the road, we reached the boat launch where we picked up a boat to take us out onto the water to get a different perspective and to see the magnificent Tonlè Sap. Riding through one of the inlets, looking up at the structures now sitting high above us, one got the feeling for how hard this community works.

We passed the permanent stilted structures and came upon wide open fields, hundreds of acres in size, that were in the process of being planted. In the rainy season, these fields are fifteen feet under water; ten years ago, these fields were dense jungle. Hard to imagine but the dense jungle here floods six months out of the year, to within ten feet or so of its treetops, resulting in an image that is reminiscent of the mangroves of the tropical flats.

We continued on past the floating homes of the fisherman who move further and further out into the lake as the water depth drops. These people live on floating homes, making themselves gardens, raiding chickens, caring for pets, etc. The children attend a floating school-so wild!

By the time we made it to the mouth of the inlet and the lake, the wind had picked up and waves were rolling in. We did not venture far but were able to determine that we could not even see the other side of the lake-it was that big. We did watch as a young boy was braver than us, “sailing” his bucket through the choppy murky waters.

We returned to the dock, after tying the boat up for a bit of a geographical history lesson on the water system from Ponheary.

Back at the hotel, we made our goodbyes to our new friend. Ponheary said she wanted to keep Jenny here; hard to say that we blame her.

And some photos from Ta Prohm Yesterday Afternoon. Ta Prohm was the sight for a scene in Tomb Raider.

January 2, 2019

Now We Are Talking

Today we actually made it a take it easy day. Jenny slept in until after ten and met us downstairs for breakfast. I had scheduled us spa appointments for what I had hoped would be a far more relaxing experience than our previous spa. It’s hard to not take advantage of the very low prices for spa appointments in Asia; we normally wouldn’t pamper ourselves like this!

Following our appointments, which were indeed relaxing and exactly what we were hoping for, we met Billy by the pool for a snack and hang out time.

We had delicious dinners the two previous evenings at Genevieve’s which is run by an ex-pat from Australia. He gives a percentage of all his profits to his employees, trains them in proper hygiene and service in hopes that they will develop the skills to one day start their own business. Tonight, we had dinner at Marum, which also helps train Cambodians and supports local artisans. Our favorite dessert of sticky rice with mango was delicious at both places-but top prizes go to Genevieve’s.

A tuk-tuk ride through Siem Reap is really quite an experience. Our awesome driver Dan #9 told us, “There are no rules here. Well, actually there are, but no one follows them and no one enforces them.” Nice! Right?

The roads are all two way-some with dividers but that doesn’t appear to mean anything. You can have traffic going both ways on each side of the road-but it is almost like controlled chaos-even at the intersections with no lights or stop signs.

People ride with their infants strapped to them, or if there is more than one person on the motorbike, the passenger holds them. The young kids are either sandwiched between or if they are too young to sit behind and hold on to their parent, they ride standing up in front of the parent, holding onto the handlebars. Women passengers ride side saddle, not even holding on to the driver. It is difficult to comprehend it all but it is how they do it. And in the two weeks we drove all around, we never saw an accident, once.

Notice the traffic coming at us-we are on the wrong side of the road

 

See the kids at the end of this video

Intersection Chaos

Riding Side Saddle

We are enjoying Cambodia, though Siem Reap is a bit too large for our taste and way too touristed. It’s funny how the city is overly decorated for Christmas-almost to the point of being gaudy.

The friendliness of the locals is hit or miss-many of our smiles and waves go unreturned. The good news is we have not seen the begging we read of or the scams we heard about. It feels like most of the people are just out, going about their day, paying little attention to us.

Just some scenes from around Siem Reap

 

January 3, 2019

Ta-ta

Our last full day in Asia so we decided to start it off by waking up at 4:30 AM to meet our trusty driver Vy, to take us to Angkor Wat for sunrise. I had read conflicting reports whether it was worth it or not but Billy liked the idea of getting there early before the crowds so we thought why not!

Vy was right on time and off we went through the already bustling streets of Siem Reap. As we turned towards Angkor Wat, we laughed that it was like a tuk-tuk brigade with everyone headed to do the same thing. The only difference was it was couples and families, not huge tour groups of rude people who push in front of you to get their photo before moving on.

Back at Beng Melea the other day, Jenny found a large strangler fig vine off in the corner that she sat on and swung from, relaxing in the shade. She looked so cute, I took a picture and before we knew it, a couple from a large Chinese tour group came over and stood there staring at Jenny. When she didn’t really respond to his stares, he gruffly motioned to her to move so he could pose his wife there on the vine. I kid you not, five minutes later she was still sitting there posing for his camera-so unbelievable!

Since we had not been to Angkor Wat before, we didn’t know exactly where to go, and since it was pitch black dark, we followed along with everybody else and then split off where a few others were going. We found ourselves on the shore of one of the reflecting pools and camped there. As the first rays of light began to show on the horizon, the outline of Angkor came into view. The sunrise itself was a bit lackluster but seeing Angkor Wat for the first time, slowly emerging from the dark, was as exciting for us as it must have been for the children to slowly watch their images appear on the photos we had taken.

From first impressions, Jenny thought it looked smaller than she had imagined-like Mount Rushmore, she said. We walked along the outer galleries which was almost devoid of tourists, allowing for a peaceful experience and enabling us to shoot some photos with the morning sunlight, free of obstacles.

As we got to the far corner of the grounds, I saw something moving on the dirt road that runs to the side of the complex. Trying to figure if it was a dog, I watched as another one moved and then another. Oh my goodness, they were monkeys-macaques really and it was a very large troop of them, including some with tiny babies clinging to their mama’s backs and bellies.

Jenny was beside herself with excitement. She had wanted to see monkeys on this trip but I hadn’t thought we would be anywhere where they were. A few of the sights I had read about that had monkeys, we were not going to and somehow I never read about the macaques here.

We sat and watched them for a while moving about and swinging in the trees, little ones wrestling on the ground.

At one point, some foolish American tourists took out bananas and fed them to them-why do people think that is OK? It was not but a few minutes later that an unsuspecting couple walked along the street with a plastic bag and before they knew what hit them, a macaque had run up and ripped the bag away from them. When the man tried to take the bag back, the macaque flashed his ridiculously sharp set of teeth and growled at the man, who wisely backed down and settled on defeat. We then heard another group of tourists turn to them and say, “Don’t you know not to carry a plastic bag with you?” Apparently the macaques have been conditioned by tourists who buy bananas from the market and carry them there in a plastic bag, that all plastic bags contain food.

After watching the monkeys for 20 minutes or so, we continued to walk a round and eventually entered inside to what had by this time become the maddening scene of tour groups. We quickly made our way through until we reached one of the back areas and pulled a “Ponheary,” perching ourselves on a spot and taking the grandeur of this place in.

It is hard to believe that Angkor Wat and environs were the largest pre-industrial settlement complex in world history. At its height, there was over a million people living there, today Siem Reap is home to just shy of 200,000. The intricacy and detail here left us in a state of wonderment-everywhere we turned we saw something that caught our eye. I can only imagine what it was like for the first set of western eyes to view it.

Jenny asked if we could go back and watch the macaques for a bit longer so we headed over to where we had last saw them. We watched as they groomed one another, and climbed the towers, chased each other and just hung out watching what was going on around them.

About this time, a couple walked up and were also watching them, taking pictures, when one of the macaques leaped from his perch and made a beeline towards the woman. She quickly became nervous when I noticed she was carrying a plastic bag. I warned her it was the bag they were after and so she dropped it as she was backing up. The monkey had it in seconds and again the man tried to take it from him to which he received the same response as the man before.

We watched with great enjoyment as the monkeys ate their bananas-the dexterity of their hands is incredible. The couple laughed about it and said it was worth the loss of the bananas (which they were actually planning on wasting themselves) to watch the monkeys but they were waiting for them to move on so they could get their bottle of water back.

Billy made a crack that wouldn’t it be funny if the monkey opened the bottle and drank it. Well, no sooner had he said that then the monkey did just that. He cracked the lid off in two seconds flat, bent over and drank the water as it flowed from the bottle. He then used the lid to scoop some water up and drink it like he was drinking from a cup-unbelievable!

After watching the macaques for another twenty minutes or so, we made our way out of the complex to find Vy, exactly where he said he would be waiting for us. We made our way to New Leaf Eatery for breakfast-avocado toast specifically. About this time, Billy said he wasn’t feeling very well. We decided to have Vy drive him back to the hotel and Jenny and I would walk around the old market area to do some shopping. We arranged a pick up time with Vy for an hour and a half later.

Back at the hotel, we had some lunch and then all crashed out for a bit-something I rarely do. We had arranged for tuk-tuk driver Dan #9 to pick us up at 4:20 to take us to the Phare Circus but unfortunately after our naps, Billy was feeling even more lousy. He decided to skip our final evening out. Jenny and I were bummed, but understood.

After picking up the tickets at the window, I mentioned to Jenny that I could ask Dan if he would like to take Billy’s ticket and join us. She thought it a great idea and so Jenny, Dan and I watched the circus. But, this is not a circus of animals, this is more like a cirque du soleil performance, but on a much more modest scale.

The show lasted just over an hour and it held our attention the entire time. The acrobats and dancing performed were incredible, if not a bit shocking that there was no safety net. The music was great and with our front row seats, we could literally reach out and touch the performers.

 

 

 

The second half of our final night was dinner at Cuisine Wat Damnak-considered to be one of the finest restaurants in Cambodia. We had discussed cancelling as it is a set menu of tasting courses and I wasn’t too sure Jenny would appreciate it all, but she insisted she wanted to go.

Dan drove us there and waited for us to finish. Our dinner lasted about 2 hours and we ate every bite of every single courses-12 different meals actually as they offer two different set menus and we ordered one of each so we could try everything. There was not one thing that wasn’t delicious, and there were a lot of interesting ingredients! At the end of the evening, the chef, who is French, came out and chatted for a few minutes and wished for Billy to feel better!

Our time here has been beyond memorable-thanks so much in part to Ponheary. We think about these people and all that they have suffered through over the years. Many of the Cambodians that we hired, or worked at the restaurants, etc, thanked us for coming to their country.

It is funny, none of us have been homesick or feeling like we are ready to get home, that’s not to say we have not missed people or won’t be excited to see our dogs again, we just have not been antsy to return.

Our first trip to Asia exceeded any expectations we had, surpassed all our desires, laid to rest our fears, brought sunshine into our lives, blessed us with new friends, and renewed our belief that there is kindness and goodness still left in this world.

As they say in Myanmar, “Ta-ta…Asia…ta-ta!”

July 16, 2018

The Mountains Are Calling

I decided to take the longer route to Mount Rainier this morning as I did not want to traverse the same stretch of highway I had traversed three times yesterday! I also did not want to have to backtrack once we reached Mount Rainier, nor did I want to travel on Forest Service roads so I settled for the longer way there. Our drive heading up the CRG was beautiful and once we crossed the Columbia into Washington, we thought it far prettier than what the guide books lead you to believe. Jenny said lots of people might find the dull landscape ugly and drab but she found the contrast of golden grass and evergreens beautiful.

As soon as we crossed over into Washington, we entered wind farm country. We saw so many of these behemoths crossing country last summer that they have become somewhat of a norm-we discussed that it was probably better those than the two massive dams we had passed on the Columbia.

The drive into Yakima was very scenic, passing by snow capped Mt Adams (the second tallest mountain in WA) and miles and miles of apple and cherry orchards.

We stopped at Panera and grabbed a salad to go for lunch and Dutch Bros Coffee for a peppermint bark frost for dessert-fueling us up for the hikes we intended on taking once we reached the park.

From Yakima, the scenery began to change quickly as we followed the aquamarine hued Tieton River up into the Cascades. When Mount Rainier first came into view, Jenny and I were gobsmacked, I literally swerved to the pull out for the oncoming traffic and we sat mesmerized for the first 30 seconds or so. Holy cow was it gorgeous-a sight that was beyond anything either one of us expected, a sight that stole our breath and very quickly our hearts.

The beauty of it all was it had just begun, we continued on our journey witnessing a plethora of beautiful waterfalls, thunderous rivers and melodic trickles, glacier studded mountains (besides the obvious one), old growth temperate rainforests with trees so enormous and thick that their canopy blocked any light from the sky and viewpoints that made my stomach tumble. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow!

Not too far inside the gate we stopped at the Trail of the Titons. I had read a bit about this trail and while I was intrigued by it, I did not want to spend much time there as I felt like it would be too similar to the Jedidiah Smith Redwoods but I knew it was a lovely walk and it crossed a scenic river and so I figured 40 minutes or so of our time here would be worth it.

As it turned out it was. Jenny enjoyed soaking her feet in the river-it was still 90 plus degrees out, plus a chance to walk amongst such unspoiled beauty, to marvel at and hug the trees that help give us life, to just stretch our legs in wondrous surroundings is always time well spent.

From there we traveled on to an area called Paradise-imagine that, who ever thought to name some place as beautiful as this, Paradise? I had wanted to do a few hikes in and around this area and even though we did not arrive here until close to 3:00, the hikes were short and the days are long so I felt we could knock them out with no problem. We checked in with the ranger who gave us the low down and off we set.

Our first hike was a one mile roundtrip to Myrtle Falls-an uphill hike on a paved path with total exposure and temps still well above 80, but it was short so we knew it would be fine.  The views of not only Mt Rainier but the surrounding mountains got even more dramatic as we climbed.

The wildflowers which had been beautiful along the road driving in, changed to an entire different type of flora-more along the lines of the subalpine type than the field of wildflowers type. There were purple lupine, Jacob’s ladder, speedwell and asters; fuchsia heather and magenta paintbrush; yellow stonecrop and monkey flower-all so beautiful!

Once the paved portion ended, we decided to climb a bit more and had it not been for the the other hike we wanted to do, and the advance in time, we would have loved to continue on for a while to get closer to the glaciers and ice fields. We did stop for a while and just soak it all in. Jenny asked me why it was we weren’t staying two nights here; the mountains were already casting their spell on her. “Mom,” she said, “This is it. This is everything we love.” She was right. She couldn’t have been more right.

Staring out at the forested mountains, Jenny said this is what she thought Oregon and Washington would look like and this is exactly why she chose this area to travel to. “A day in the mountains is like a cleansing of your soul,” my too-wise daughter announced. At one point, Jenny spotted a marmot running through the meadows and then I spotted another one. “If you want to travel some place beautiful, go where the marmots live,” Jenny declared.

When we returned to the parking lot, we saw a snowboarder there, I overheard him talking to someone and he said he had climbed up to 10,000 feet (the parking lot was 5,600’) and boarded back down-absolutely crazy! We looked for climbers but without the binoculars I had left at home, we were unable to see them.

Our second hike was a 1 1/2 mile hike with a 200 foot elevation gain out to a viewpoint that gives you the full view of Nisqually Glacier.  The meadows here were alive with thousands of dainty white avalanche lilies dancing in the breeze.

There were three viewpoints on this trail and each consecutive one was more jaw dropping then the one before it. By the final viewpoint the full forces of glaciation came into obvious view-lateral moraines, crevasses, till and scree, and the thunderous, sediment laden Nisqually River running out from underneath the glacier carrying a load so heavy the waters were colored like a coffee milkshake. And to top it off, there was the 14,410 foot tall Mt Rainier, the most glaciated peak in the US, an icon standing tall watching over its kingdom-all so grand and glorious.

Upon first sight, we said Rainier blows Hood away-sorry Oregon. Everything about it is so much more intriguing and magical, I suppose that’s why it is a national park and what led John Muir to say, “Of all the fire mountains, which like beacons, once blazed along the Pacific Coast, Mount Rainier is the noblest.” It is truly extravagance at its finest!

It was difficult to turn your back on the view, not only because something as fine and remarkable as this deserves your respect but because it was a feast for your eyes and a treat for your senses. As we pulled away from it Jenny every so subtly and assuredly spoke to the mountain, “I’ll be back some day. I’ll be back.”

And a few extra funnies:

July 17, 2018

Into the Deep Green Yonder

This morning I made breakfast for Jenny and I to have out on the front porch of our inn (it was a different set-up, an inn that had three rooms but shared a kitchen and all the other communal spaces). There was another gentleman there who I gave salutations to and as soon as he spoke, I recognized his English was being spoken with a Dutch accent. When I asked him the rhetorical question of if he was Dutch he of course answered yes. Turns out he lives in Eindhoven (where my dad’s brother and our good friends live). He recognized the last name of one set of friends but did not know the family. We enjoyed chatting about Eindhoven, and all the changes that is has under gone since we were last there.

Our destination today was yet another national park on the farthest side of Washington-Olympic. The drive out of the Cascades was beautiful as we passed the now milky green Nisqually River (in comparison to yesterday’s coffee color) as it emptied into Alder Lake, a beautiful tree lined lake that mimicked the color of the Patagonia glacial lakes.

We were lucky to have a final view of Mt Rainier, this time from the west side where a small church had set up a scenic vista spot for people to stop and enjoy “God’s masterful creation, if you are lucky enough to see it. But if you can’t see it due to clouds, go to this website (link provided) for a picture of what you are missing.” Kind of funny I thought.

According to the hosts of our inn in Ashcroft the mountain is frequently shrouded in clouds and up until two days before we arrived, had been in a semi perpetual cloud bank. How lucky we were!

From there until the national park the drive was unremarkable if not a bit depressing passing huge swaths of clear cut forests. Some were on the road to recovery, some looked fairly recently cleared and others looked to have been cut decades ago by the height of the new growth trees. I know this area has a long long history with the timber industry, and I do not pretend to know better one way or the other, but it feels a tragedy now to see such violations against nature.

As we drove into Olympia National Forest, it was like someone unplugged the mower and lined the highway with blue hydrangeas!

We entered the village of Quinault and headed straight to the ranger station where we spent quite some time chatting with a friendly ranger about  the best hikes for us to take over the next four days. We didn’t bring our normal hiking essentials-mainly life straws or camelbacks so we have to limit our hikes to ones that we can carry enough water with us. With that in mind, he gave us a few different options depending on how we are feeling each day. The incredible thing about Olympic is that there are many different ecosystems in the one national park and the hikes he suggested will highlight the big three.

We left there and made a stop at the world’s largest Sitka Spruce (and the 4th largest tree in the world) with a circumference of 58 feet, a diameter of 18 feet and 191 feet tall; it was fantastic!

After we headed to the hotel, our most extravagant stay of our trip-the Lake Quinault Hotel. It is a beautiful old lodge, one of the national park originals that sits right on the shore of Lake Quinault. The inside is very arts and crafts while the outside is a bit rustic woodsy, but it is well decorated and has many traditional native items in and around on display.

We grabbed a table on the deck overlooking the lake and enjoyed a lunch of delicious smoked salmon and chicken wings with a cold beer for me (since I did not have to drive any more). We checked into our lakeview room and had a good laugh. I never expect much from the national park hotels that are run by concessionaires but the last few times, we have been pleasantly surprised. This time was a bit of a change-the entire room, the bathroom especially is in need of a serious upgrade. How they feel they can charge the price they do is unexplainable except for the fact, they and one other little motel are the only game in town and in the park for miles and miles-oh well! c’est la vie.

We decided to do a smaller hike through the rainforest that started and ended across from our hotel. The trail immediately entered an incredibly dense vegetation of multiple variety of ferns, the largest clover I have ever seen, evergreens of seemingly endless varieties dripping in some form of Spanish moss, and a beautiful little creek twisting its way through. There were various flowering plants and shrubs and loads of berries.

Some parts had the vegetation almost as high as our heads and with the thickness of it it was difficult to see any possible predator out there. When we were at the ranger station the ranger told me there is a very healthy population of black bears in the park, back at the lodge there was a sign warning people one had been spotted on a trail just down the road and hike at your own risk. When I asked if we needed to carry bear spray, he said, “No they generally leave the people alone unless they are in need of food unlike the grizzly bear who will eat you just because you are in their way.” Nice!

I still made plenty of noise though, calling out to them and the cougars they warn about, unfortunately I think we disturbed the solace of the few hikers we encountered along the way but it certainly made us feel better.

After our hike, we returned to the hotel and spent some time relaxing in adirondack chairs on the shore of the lake. It’s amazing how dependent we are on our sight but it is equally amazing how without it we don’t even realize how much our other senses have absorbed. It is also amazing how much our brain processes it all. Sitting in an adirondack chair on the lakeshore, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I was immediately transported to another time years ago-the gentle breeze caressing my skin, the reverberating of the wind in my ears, the tender touch of the sun warming my skin, the music of the waves slowly breaking on shore, brought me to a time of such comfortable familiarity even while I sat on the shores of a distant land.

We sat there for almost two hours, until the fog rolled in and the wind picked up, and we got hungry for dinner. We had a wonderful table in the formal dining room, looking out at the beautiful view and our meals of salmon were very good. After dinner we took a walk on the trail that runs the entire circumference of Lake Quinault, though we just did a shorter walk out and back.

Jenny challenged me to a game of corn hole on the lawn so I took her up on it. I had Jenny at 20-0 before I sunk a bag and was sent back to 15. Jenny turned her game on and before I know it we were at 17-15, but I ended up winning with a four point toss, and did a small victory dance.

The hotel had lit a bonfire on the beach and there was a group of people sitting down and around it so we decided to go and grab a couple of empty chairs.

We quickly began chatting with the two couples plus the one couple’s son who is headed to Gonzaga this fall. We told them we are headed to Spokane ourselves to look at Gonzaga and from there we sat for the next two plus hours hearing funny stories about their children, life growing up on a farm in Ohio, and other mishaps in life. Most of the time, we were in stitches listening to their crazy antics-cracking up at things that were not necessarily all that funny but when they were presented in such a way you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. It was actually an incredibly enjoyable evening-nothing like a few hours of laughter to purify the body!

July 18, 2018

The Elusive Banana Slug

Breakfast this morning was a bit of a disappointment which was a bummer as we had been eating yogurt for days and were looking forward to something more bountiful. I suppose the good news is I did not have to put it all together and we did not have to do the dishes!

The morning was foggy, the first morning we have not woke to blue skies, but it was actually OK as it added to the mystique of the area. We had decided to get an earlier start than in days past even though we stayed at the bonfire laughing until a bit after 11:00.

Our explorations today were going to take us in search of two distinct creatures. First we were headed to the ocean tide pools in search of a starfish, then we were headed back into another rainforest in search of a banana slug.

Ever since Jenny was little and first encountered a natural tide pool, she has wanted to see a starfish, and they have always eluded her. I remember seeing them in Malibu as a youngster but it has probably been over forty years since I have seen a starfish in the wild on the California coast. The interest in the banana slug came from our walk the night before where we came across signs that were posted to inform hikers of various natural things to look out for and banana slugs were one of them.

So today, we were looking to explore two very distinct ecosystems in one day. Olympic National Park is very unique in that there are no roads through it, only one, two-lane highway that circumnavigates it, with out-and-back spur roads off of that. Its diversity is incredible, which explains why it is part of UNESCO and also designated as a World Heritage Site.

Our first stop was the ranger station closest to the marine part of Olympic. The ranger here gave us some different information than the other ranger, recommending Ruby Beach as the place to go for beauty and for starfish. The family we sat with last night told us they had spent some time at some of the tide pools near Ruby but never saw a starfish which left us concerned. As luck would have it though, we had perfect timing for the tide pools, because low tide was at 11:22 AM and it was almost a negative tide.

Upon arrival at Ruby Beach, there were plenty of cars but we found a spot and set out down the path to the beach. Our first views showed a beautiful rugged coast with a wide exposed dark sand beach, leading up to a stretch of cobbled river rocks, and then a substantial stretch of drift logs at the base of the headlands. There were numerous stacks scattered and with the low tide, we could see the rock formations that created the numerous tide pools.

The trail led out on to the drift logs and we hopscotched across them until we reached the rocks. Most of the people appeared to be going right towards the largest stacks so we turned left, where there were only a handful of others.

The skies were clearing but fog continued to roll low off the water across the sand.

As we approached our first set of tide pools, I spotted a bright orange sea star (we have since learned their proper name), clinging to the rock whenever the waves would roll back. We approached it but could not get close enough as there was a very deep moat that led around the rock and with the water continuing to roll in, it was too dangerous.

We continued on to where it looked like there was easier access to some more rocks and sure enough we spotted a second sea star, this time an ochre color.

There were thousands upon thousands of sea anemones, hermit crabs, mussels, snails and of course barnacles. The further we walked out into the rocks the more sea stars we spotted-besides the orange and ochre ones, we saw purple and maroon ones, they were literally everywhere. We laughed and wondered what those people from last night were talking about and what beach they had gone to because you would have to be blind to not have spotted one.

Jenny loves the tide pools. She loves exploring them and watching for every little thing that is there that most people, including me, would overlook.

These are barnacles, under the water, no bigger than my pinky nail that Jenny spotted-totally crazy!

As terrified of bugs as she is, the creepy sea creatures don’t seem to bother her. She loves running her hands over the squishy anemones or gently sticking her finger in them so they close.

This entire boulder was covered in aggregating anemones-they clone themselves to colonize certain areas!

She likes picking up the snails and humming to them to see if she can coax them out of their shells. She loves walking barefoot through the sand and stomping in the water. She appreciates the uniqueness of these small ecosystems and always jumps at the chance to explore them.

These are by far the best tide pools we have ever seen. I felt like we were looking at the touch tanks at Long Beach Aquarium. The vibrant colors of the anemones, sea stars and shells were unbelievable. I have never seen anemones that were fuchsia lined, and the neon greens were as brilliant as ever. There were some so huge they sagged under their own weight-so we dubbed these ones the “saggy boobs!”

We continued to explore the various rock groupings and just as we came around a rock something moving caught my eye-it was a sea otter sitting on the rock about 15 yards or so away from us. We watched him for a short period until he slipped away into the ocean, both excited from our extreme luck. Otters were completely extirpated from Washington by 1911. Today, there is estimated to be only about 1,000 sea otters along the Washington coast, growing from the 59 of them that were reintroduced in 1970 from the Aleutian Islands, so getting to see one in the wild was a real treat!

We enjoyed walking down to the other side of the beach, past the stacks where we saw a peregrine falcon and too many bald eagles to count. At one point it was only us-so very peaceful and relaxing.

We spent about two plus hours down on the beach so when lunch time approached, and knowing there was nothing available anywhere close, I ran back up to the car and grabbed the two packages of salami, cheese and crackers we had picked up plus the bag of cherries we got on our way out of Ashcroft and enjoyed a picnic lunch, sitting on a drift log overlooking the gorgeous Washington coastline-just perfect!

Our lunch log

When we left the beach, we decided to go back into the rainforest only this time up to the Hoh. The drive in was spectacular, especially as we followed the slate blue Hoh River-never seen a river quite that color before.

When we arrived at the visitor center, it was ridiculously busy but we found a parking spot, checked out the map and set out on combining two different trails for a total of a 2.5 mile hike. The hiking here was a bit different in that the forest was a bit more open and it allowed for a greater perspective on the actual environment than at Lake Quinault.

We were happy that the terrain was a bit more open as we felt like it would aid us in our search for a banana slug. When we entered the park gate here, the rangers told us two things. First, it had been so dry that the slugs are hard to come by. He had seen one on the trail the day before and when I inquired about what trail and where to look for them, he informed me it was hanging out on fresh bear scat-apparently they like the moisture. Opting to avoid any fresh bear scat, we decided we would search any other areas that we felt looked moist enough to entice a slug its way. The second thing he told us was how long it had been since there had been a Sasquatch sighting. The Pacific Northwest is home to Big Foot, in case you didn’t know (and I think flying purple elephants and unicorns too)!

The sign in the hut at the park entrance.

We were having a lot of laughs role playing our desire to see a slug. “Pssst… You!… Come here…,” using our finger to direct someone towards us, then looking over both shoulders, leaning in, raising our eyebrows and whispering in our best Tony Montana voice, “You seen any slugs?” Cracking up aloud afterwards. We are sure people probably thought we were a bit nuts but we didn’t care. Funny thing is we actually did end up stopping a few people on the trails and asked them if they had seen any slugs but no one had.

Our stop for the evening was in Forks, a bit of a run down lumber town now better known as the setting for all of the Twilight books. We did a run through looking for a restaurant for dinner with no luck. We made a U turn and went back with still no luck. We consulted Yelp and Trip Advisor, the best restaurant was a pizza place that when we pulled up to it we understood the review that was entitled, “Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover.” We passed on it and ended up at Subway-the best option we thought.

We took our sandwiches back to our B&B, where we dined on their outside porch, looking over the mountains and watching the hummingbirds at their feeder-a perfectly pleasant way to end our day of adventure and fun. It was a wonderful day exploring nature, communing with some of the strangest creatures on the planet, minus the elusive banana slug!

And some extras:

Foxgloves? growing on the side of the road-everywhere!

We have obviously been traveling some very dangerous stretches of highway! 🙂

 

And our text message to Billy 😦

July 19, 2018

Authentic

First things first-I have to correct my blog from yesterday-the otter we saw was a river otter not a sea otter and therefore is not quite as special but was still exciting, nonetheless.

Before we left home, I had read about taking some time to go to Neah Bay, a remote area of the peninsula that is located on the Makah Indian Reservation. When we arrived in Olympic the ranger had said it was a pretty spectacular place and then our host at the B&B in Forks also said it was worth a visit but we should make sure to continue on the visit out to Cape Flattery, the northwestern most point in the US. I left the decision up to Jenny because the plan for today had been to go to the mountains but she chose to drive out to the point.

The drive up until we reached the reservation was a bit dull as we continued to pass clear cut areas and tons of logging trucks. It did give us some more info on the logging process up here though. We passed a sign that said, “First Harvest 1930. Second Harvest 1984. Planted 1986. Next Harvest 2036. Jobs Grow With Trees.” I guess this is considered sustainable logging.

As the road turned to the coast at Clallam Bay, the scenery changed to one that felt almost tropical. At one point, we passed a monkey puzzle tree in the yard of a home, a throw back to our time spent in Patagonia.

Not long after we entered the reservation, we came upon the Makah Museum and the Makah Cultural and Research Center. I had read about this museum and our host had also spoken to us about it which had intrigued Jenny to want to go.

In 1970, following a particular rough storm where the headlands were severely battered, a hiker found wooden artifacts strewn along a beach. After contacting the Makah Tribe about it, the tribe quickly realized what had been found, an Ozette village that had been the subject of stories passed down through the generations said to have been buried in a great mudslide many years before, as it turned out through radiocarbon dating, it was some 500 years before. An 11 year excavation process began where salt water was used to rinse away the clay that had perfectly preserved over 55,000 wooden artifacts and 11 long houses, from half a millennium ago. The Makah then built the museum to house the collection and tell the history of their people, pre-contact, as whalers, sealers, fisherman, and basket weavers.

The museum was beautifully done (no photos allowed inside) and was really beyond fascinating to see all that the ancient people were accomplished at. There were replica canoes, dioramas and a full-sized replica of one of the long houses, along with a whale skeleton and of course, hundreds of artifacts. We enjoyed the time in the museum and it gave us some insight into the people’s land who we were visiting.

We continued our drive on to Cape Flattery where we parked and set out on the mile walk, through beautiful woods, along raised boardwalks, past ancient trees and listened as the sound of the ocean grew closer.

The point is literally that, a narrow point with sheer cliffs on both sides. Across a narrow passageway sat Tatoosh Island, an island still under Makah ownership but it houses the Cape Flattery Lighthouse.

The point sits with the Strait of Juan de Fuca on one side and the Pacific Ocean on the other. It has an exceptionally rugged coastline, with stacks and sea caves and no beaches. Its waters are home to a large marine reserve as well.

We watched a boat go in one opening and come out the other, and it was rough!

The rugged coastline

When we reached the final platform, there was a native Makah there named Spencer who acts as somewhat of a docent, giving information to the tourists as they come. He said he is actually paid by NOAA as he is supposed to count the sea mammals that he sees, but he also counts the humans as well. Jenny and I struck up a conversation with Spencer and before you knew it, we had spent well over an hour talking to him. I asked him if the Makah had a creation story and he said they believed that a star fell from the sky and married a wolf and then they created the Makah.

He spoke about pre-contact and how they depended on halibut as their mainstay. When I asked him if they still whale, he said the last whale they had taken was 18 years ago and that they had received so much grief, from the Sea Shepherds especially, that even though they are legally able to take a whale, they haven’t since then since they had agreed to hold off until a study was completed-they are still waiting for the study to conclude he said.

He and Jenny talked about his 92 year old mother and how the women of the tribe don’t want to move and so the Makah are losing the purity of their bloodlines with mixed marriages. He told Jenny that when hunting parties were out on the ocean and the weather would get bad, they would flip their canoes upside down and ride face down on the thwarts as the canoe would suction to the water this way and they had a greater chance of surviving the storm. He also told us that the seventh wave is always the biggest and when the fisherman would return they would watch the waves for a few minutes and when they saw one that appeared bigger than all the others, they would count the consecutive waves until the seventh one and then they would follow in behind it. He was a wealth of information that was all so fascinating. The entire experience was simple, unique and unforgettable; we truly enjoyed our time there.

As we were returning to our car, we rounded the corner and saw a gentleman squatting down taking a picture of something low to the ground. Could it be? Was it possible? YES! He was photographing a banana slug. Jenny and I basically shouted out loud and he and the rest of his party were intrigued by our response, they thought perhaps we were budding entomologists. We explained that we had spent a few hours yesterday in search of them but had never found them so we were just so excited to see one finally. They were still curious why we were so interested in seeing one.

As it turned out, we spotted three more along the trail on our walk up but none were as brilliant as the one the guy spotted. But, we finally found the elusive banana slug, some almost as big as Jenny’s finger-score!

We stopped back in Neah Bay for lunch at Calvin’s Crab House except we chose not to have crab, too much work, so I stepped out of my box and had fried halibut and chips and Jenny had a Caesar Salad with fried chicken. The halibut, though battered and fried, was absolutely off the charts delicious. We sat on picnic tables, overlooking the beautiful Neah Bay, watching a bald eagle that was sitting on a rock in the water-just perfect.

Our lunch view

Back on the road, we encountered a huge delay due to road work along the brilliant blue Crescent Lake and so decided not to make any more stops and just get to Port Angeles.

We checked into our very simple Airbnb and went out for dinner. Our meals were delicious-I finally had fresh dungeness crab meat and by the time we got home, our bed was calling.

Today was a very special day. It is not often you get to have an unforced, authentic conversation with someone who knows a totally different way of life then you do. I loved stepping away for a few minutes and watching Jenny interact with Spencer. She always shows such great compassion for what others are going through and great interest in what they are telling her; she is thoughtful in her responses and respectful in her choice of words. She is really like an old soul who never ceases to amaze me and continuously makes me so very very proud.

July 20, 2018

A Wolf Pack

Today was Jenny’s day to decide what to do and when so after a hearty breakfast, we walked around Port Angeles a bit looking at some of the shops. I had read Port Angeles lacked charm and had no real reason to stay here except to base yourself out of it for Olympic National Park or to whale watch, which we are doing. But, there are some hip clothing stores, an excellent grocery store, a few great restaurants that we have eaten at, lots of murals adorning the sides of buildings and flowers everywhere. It is not as bad as I had been expecting and we enjoyed checking out a few of the stores.

We walked down to the harbor area, where we passed Customs and Border Patrol where the passengers for the ferries arriving from Canada clear through, walked around the piers and into the National Marine Sanctuaries Olympic Coast site. As soon as we entered the door, the docent grabbed hold of us and led us around showing us the displays, asking us questions and giving us information. It was she who told me the otter I had seen was a river otter not a sea otter-apparently they go into the ocean as well. She also told me sea otters have no tail but I have since found out that they do, just not a long one like a river otter.

A jellyfish made from plastics found in the waters there.

Next we headed over to the Marine Aquarium, a very small one that has a few touch pools but loads of different creatures you would find in the tide pools. Many we recognized, some we did not, some would have been crazy to see-like a sunflower sea star (they have between 16 and 24 limbs) or a sea cucumber, but it was fun touching the sea urchin, having him close his spines around your finger! Jenny also had an opportunity to try her hand at operating an underwater remote vehicle but it did not seem to be working properly-oh well!

Yesterday as we were driving to Neah Bay, through the trees along the coast I thought I had spied a traditional canoe being paddled but there was no place to stop along the road to get a better look. When we were speaking to Spencer, we learned that indeed I had, that the local tribes were partaking in a traditional ceremonious canoe trip and they would all be converging at a small beach in Port Angeles today. I overheard the volunteer at the aquarium discussing it and it turned out we were adjacent to the beach they were landing at.

We headed over to the beach and could see that there were small canopies set up and people were gathering but we did not see any canoes. There were a lot of police officers around so I asked one of them about it and he said they should be arriving soon but we could drive out on the point over by the coast guard station and we could probably see them, so we did just that except there were no canoes to be seen.

Jenny decided we would stop and pick up lunch and then head up to the mountains of Olympic, even though they appeared to be shrouded in clouds. With lunch in hand, Jenny suggested that we should go back by the beach again to see if any canoeists had come in so back down to the beach we went and sure enough the first one was just pulling in. There were probably ten boys, no older than 16 maybe, the first to arrive, and they had just come 18 miles, across the Salish Sea from Canada. We watched the welcome ceremony from the tribespeople, singing and playing the drums, and then listened to the exchange of speeches-all very interesting. Since there were no more canoes in sight, we decided to continue on to the mountains and maybe we would see some on our return.

The drive to Hurricane Ridge, the highest point you can drive to is 17 miles from Port Angeles and goes from sea level to 5,242’ in about forty five minutes.

The new sign, notice it also has native language on it.

The road is exceptionally windy and there are few guardrails (which I have noticed is the norm for our national parks) but the views were spectacular, until we entered the clouds. We had decided that even if we got to the top and the view was socked in, it was OK because the drive up was pretty with all the wildflowers blooming.

As we neared the top, we popped through the clouds and there in front of us was a magnificent site, reminiscent of the alps. The Olympic Mountains lined up perfectly and all of the lingering snow and permanent glaciers were completely visible. We could even see Mt Olympus and its giant Bue Glacier without any problem.

We sat and had our lunch, enjoying the magnificent view amazed at the vastness of the mountain forests that were still totally wild with no roads cutting through them. The only possible way to explore them is on foot.

Our lunch spot

We took a walk on the few loop trails that there were, even though the clouds were so thick on that side. We headed up to the overlook and looked out at a wall of white, but there was a sign there showing us what we would be looking at if it was clear.

It is amazing just how close to the ocean these mountains are. We continued on the trail heading up further into the clouds, to the highest point-Sunrise Point.

While we saw nothing looking out towards the ocean, the mountains were still in view, and hiking with the clouds rolling over the spine of the trail was a surreal experience. I would have hated to get completely socked in because the trail was only about five feet wide with plummeting sides.

On our way down, out of the clouds we spotted a bunch of blacktail deer, including a spotted fawn and a few bucks with decent racks, grazing in the meadow. They seemed to have little fear of us humans as well as the marmot that was hanging out. You remember what Jenny said, that if you want to go someplace beautiful, go to where the marmots are-well she was right. It was really spectacular up top and we decided that we enjoyed the clouds, it was a different experience and added something to the hike.

We were happy though because the view we really went for, the mountains, was clear, it was only the view out towards the ocean that could not be seen until we got lower, below the clouds and it didn’t hold a candle to the one we saw above!

The mountains with wispy clouds

The view of the ocean, below the clouds

Back down the mountain, we parked and walked back down to the beach to see if more canoes had come in. There were about 15 lined up, with three more in sight, making their way towards shore.

Multiple traditional canoes

Most of the area tribes believe they descend from the wolf, notice the bows of these four canoes.

We watched each one’s arrival, listening to the exchange between the tribes, the gifts offered or the tale of their journey. Each time the drums would beat and the singers would chant and a small welcome speech would be given by both the guest tribe and the host tribe. We found it all very fascinating and watched for well over an hour until the final canoe arrived.

Culturally our day was very intriguing; it certainly gave us lots to talk about and to think about. At one point Jenny overheard a group of people saying they thought the ceremony was turning into a, “Reprimand of the white man.” Indeed, there was some of that in a few of the exchanges that we heard but I think it was misconstrued as two of the young girls welcoming the canoes, speaking their native language, were blond haired and blue eyed, clearly a descendant of the “white man” somewhere along the line and probably closer to what Spencer was talking about when speaking of the loss of pure blood lines.

Jenny and I discussed that this was a traditional custom they re-enacted , it was not necessarily meant for the glaring eyes of the public and they certainly have every right to condemn what has happened to them as a people and lament the things they have lost. Frankly, it is quite judgmental to be a voyeur on the one hand and then criticize what is overheard on the other hand. Ignorance isn’t always bliss.

A few more photos from the canoe trip:

The tribes people were wearing similar traditional hats to the ones here

A hummingbird or thunderbird

July 21, 2018

Thar She Blows

We woke to clear skies and calm winds-a great day for a boat ride out on the Strait of Juan de Fuca and the Salish Sea in search of marine mammals. We boarded our vessel and headed out passing numerous harbor seals bobbing in the frigid waters as well as the Pacific coast’s first permanent Coast Guard Air Station.

Once we were out in the middle of the Strait, the view back looking at the Olympic Mountains was spectacular. We could easily make out Sunrise Point, where we had been yesterday staring at the wall of clouds. Of course the perspective of the mountains and the peninsula from the waters showed just how truly immense both are.  How wondrous to be floating around on the ocean looking up at the snow capped mountains and knowing they can be reached in under an hour!

The seas were calm except for large rollers coming in so the conditions were right for spotting surface activity and it wasn’t long before I spotted whales. I could see their spouting far off in the distance and as we made our way over to them, we could see them begin to surface. There was a pod of five humpback whales in total, including a mama and her calf.

Whale diving down

Spouting

The smaller 16 person zodiacs that had come from Canada, were in such a lucky spot as a whale came up right next them-what a treat those boaters got, so close they could smell the whale I am sure, and probably almost touch it! We were close enough to hear their spouting and see their flukes coming up when they dove down but not so close as the other boats.

See how close the zodiac was-this whale has a white fluke underneath

Not so long ago humpback whales were wiped out of this area, there actually had not been a whale spotted in the Salish Sea (composed of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the Strait of Georgia and Puget Sound and all of their watersheds and waterways) since the early 1900s, but in 1995 a researcher spotted one and they have been returning ever since. On the flip side, the resident orca population has been dwindling and is now down to 78 whales. The oldest known wild orca is believed to have died last year.

We lingered for about thirty minutes in the humpback’s vicinity and continued to enjoy watching them as they surfaced and dove down. The captain decided to move on to an area known as Race Rocks, an ecological reserve where we saw humungous sea lions lazing about sunning themselves but no other whales.

Race Rocks Lighthouse

It was a beautiful day out on the water and a real treat to see the majestic humpbacks. We were a bit disappointed not to get to see any orcas but I can never complain when a day either begins or ends with a boat ride!

We loved this tanker because the life raft reminded us of the one in the movie Captain Phillips

Some sort of algae bloom near the shore when we returned. It wasn’t there yesterday.

We left Port Angeles headed to Port Townshend where we were to catch the 5:15 ferry to Whidbey Island and continue on to Bellingham. We reached the ferry terminal with plenty of time to spare and were put on the 3:30 ferry instead-yes!

Loaded and seated up on deck the captain came on over the loud speaker and told us there had been a technical break down and the ferry would not be leaving. We needed to return to our cars and proceed to back off the ferry! Once down there though the captain managed to turn the ferry around and we were able to drive off the one ferry and immediately drove on to the other ferry. We were so lucky because the 5:15 ferry was probably delayed until 7:30 now and there was still an hour and a half drive on the other end.

Whidbey Island

Our original trip had us heading to Vancouver at this point to meet up with Billy for a few days but his dates changed, we added on two college visits in Washington, and his sister is visiting from France the day after we are returning home so it couldn’t be managed and we had to cancel Vancouver. We will be visiting a dear friend/family member in Bellingham though, so I am very excited about that.

July 22, 2018

Nothing Like Old Friends

Lunch today was set for 1:00 so Jenny and I had some time before hand to do a few things. First things first, was a trip to Goodwill to purchase a duffel to bring home all of the driftwood we collected. Mission accomplished we continued on to the Fairhaven Historic District in Bellingham for a quick stroll around.

The area was very cute, old buildings having been revamped into cute boutiques and restaurants.

The streets are hilly and still have brick cobbles lining the middle of them. There were potted flowers and hanging baskets everywhere, adding to the charm of this area.

Our lunch dates today were Natalie and her daughter Sharon. Natalie is the widow of my second cousin, Dutch. They lived up in the mountains near Greer and were some of our closest and dearest friends. Dutch was a member of that group of men, I see more as a vanishing breed then a growing population. He was a true gentleman with a kind soul, a warm heart, he was patient and thoughtful, and had a sense of humor that could have broke old Sister Mary into hysterics even if she was in the midst of saying her penance. He was a story teller like no other and after having been a police officer, a county judge and served in the Korean War, he had plenty of stories to tell.

There was nothing I enjoyed more than sitting around a table listening to my father and Dutch trade stories and jokes back and forth for hours. Dutch passed away two years before my dad and he has been missed dearly ever since. After he passed, Natalie moved to be near her daughter and so she too has been dearly missed, as she is as kind and thoughtful and sweet as he was.

Natalie chose the restaurant for lunch today, a beautiful spot right on the harbor overlooking all the boats coming and going and a view across the bay to the mountains of the San Juan Islands.

A lovely spot to lunch with two lovely ladies. Natalie turned 89 this year and is just as beautiful a woman today as I always thought her to be. She is in wonderful health, both physically and mentally, which I of course, was delighted to see.

Our lunch was delicious and we spent time catching up on each other’s lives and our families’ lives. We reminisced a lot about old times in the mountains and how bittersweet it always is going back for me without them and without my father. Our lunch lasted a bit more than two hours and afterwards Natalie suggested a little walk outside along the bike path that runs along the harbor.

Our walk was nice, enjoying the warm summer sun and cool harbor breeze. Snow-capped Mount Baker was popping its top out over the hills, another beautiful Cascade volcano to admire.

Jenny spotted a seal looking around, seemingly watching the boats pass him in the narrow harbor channel. Our three hours with Natalie and Sharon were wonderful. It is affectting how you never realize just how deeply you miss someone until you see them again or if they have passed, until you sit and talk about them aloud again…

On our planned drive into Seattle, we noticed that there was some serious traffic building so we opted to get off and take a parallel route through the countryside. There was a Starbucks at the exit and of course we stopped to grab a drink for the road. Turned out it was the same one we had stopped at yesterday on our way up to Bellingham where we had had a funny conversation with Robby, the barista. He, like just about every other restaurant worker, asked us what we were up to. When we told him we were on our way to Bellingham he said,

“Oh yeah, that’s cool.”

“So you like Bellingham?”

“Ya… no…I don’t like that place.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“They try to be like a little Portland, acting like a cool liberal city but they are really more like a conservative police state.”

“Oh… well… I guess we are about to find out.”

Jenny and I laughed our way to Bellingham saying something bad must have happened to Robby there.

When we drove through this time, Colton took our order and when we pulled up to the window, Jenny asked if Robby was working. Turned out he was.

When he came over to the window, We said laughingly, “Yo…Robby,…it’s us. We’re back from Bellingham!”

“How’d you like it?”

“We liked it.”

“Well what did you do that made you like it so much?”

“Nothing really but we went to the Goodwill store,” really laughing now.

Obviously perplexed and laughing along with us now he said, “Well it seems like you girls have fun wherever you go.”

True that Robby, true that! And we laughed about Robby again, but this time all the way to Seattle.

Our Airbnb was perfect-very stylish in a great neighborhood near to UW (or U-dub as they call it). We dumped our bags and called an Uber to take us into downtown Seattle where Jenny had a short list of things she wanted to see. She asked if I minded if we had a late dinner and totally fine with that, she made an 8:30 reservation for sushi, something that sounded delicious to both of us.

Our first stop was Pike Place Market, a historic area right on the Seattle waterfront.

We walked around Pike Place and its famous farmer’s market but it was Sunday and it was late, so most things were shuttered. You could still get an incredible perspective of what things are like when the market is open, and how jumping it must be when it is full of patrons.

The “Gum Wall” is literally as it sounds; an area of Seattle that has been plastered by people’s already-been-chewed gum, beyond disgusting and I can only imagine that it is a hotbed for every infectious disease known to the CDC, and if they could, they would probably quarantine the entire length of the wall.

That is all chewing gum behind her!

Leaving the wall, we walked over to the original Starbucks-the founding storefront of it all. It was really so nondescript, just as one might have expected it to be. We took a few moments to take it all in and realize that magnitude of one man’s dream. Howard Schultz started an empire from one storefront; isn’t that the American Dream?

Dinner followed and it was delicious. After numerous dinners that left something to be desired-Subway, frozen pizza cooked on a BBQ, Five Guys, and even no dinner at all- we were ready for a really good, sit down and be-served-to-us dinner! Our sushi did not disappoint.

Jenny liked the parts of Seattle she saw. The last time I was there, was 6th grade-I enjoyed it then and I enjoyed it now. Our host told me not to spend too much time, unless I was ready to be enchanted. There is a nice eclectic mix to the city; it probably lives up to its reputation.

July 23 and 24

Want to Be a Husky or a Bulldog?

This morning was our tour of the University of Washington (UW), not necessarily a college Jenny had thought of but one I thought would be good to take a look at. It is a large institution both in size (bigger than Disneyland) and student body (almost 30,000) but it has an excellent reputation as a research institute, receiving 1.3 billion in research funds-the most of any US public university and is second in the nation only to Hopkins.

The campus tour was great, giving a really comprehensive overview of both the academics and campus life. There were certainly pros and cons. The large student body of course translates into larger class sizes, with an average of 45 and the largest being a whopping 750, making it a bit more difficult to build relationships with your professors. They are also on the quarter system which is a bit different than what we have encountered thus far.

The library

The campus itself was beautiful-architecturally, aesthetically and of course having Mt. Rainier in view on the horizon doesn’t hurt either. It was heavily treed, there were plenty of flowers. and lots of grassy areas.

Mt Rainier is there right off the little bumps in the green trees in the distance.

Jenny really liked UW, but the size was a drawback. There is a definite hem and haw on the size of the school that Jenny thinks she will be comfortable with.

Following our tour we headed to the airport. We dropped off our car and were a bit shocked to hear we had traveled 1,997 miles over the last 14 days! It goes to show how large our western states are, that we can travel that many miles in only two states and did it in only the western halfs!

We hopped a short flight, in a prop plane no less, to Spokane where we would be touring Gonzaga College. The flight over the Cascades was gorgeous! We could see Mt Rainier in the distance and Mt Baker up close. There were plenty of glaciers with their turquoise tarns visible with some still frozen.

Not often we fly props!

Spokane wasn’t too impressive, at least what we saw of it from the airport to the hotel. Our hotel was great and our dinner was good but the city didn’t seem to have any of the charm or vibe that Jenny is looking for.

Our morning tour was led by a rising senior who had a great sense of humor. She led us around the campus pointing out different buildings and giving a low down on campus life. We spent quite a bit of time learning about the sports life at Gonzaga, engineering and business-none of which interested Jenny.

Original building

The campus also wasn’t as attractive as we had hoped it would be. Except for the original two buildings, the rest were kind of blah. There were pretty flower beds and water features, but those won’t be there most of the school year. Couple that with the fact Spokane was a bit of a dud and Gonzaga ended up being the second school we can cross off the list even though it was the International Studies and Arabic programs Jenny is currently interested in.

Following the tour, we went to the church on campus, the only building not owned by the college. The organist was playing which is always a treat to hear, especially in a place as beautiful as the inside was. We lit a candle for my father, sat and listened to the organist for a bit, then took one more walk over to the student center to kind of confirm Jenny’s feelings.

For Baba

We finished the day, relaxing in our room since there was no real reason to brave the heat to explore a place I knew we wouldn’t be returning to.

Jenny said she was sad our trip was coming to an end and even though she had had a lot of fun, she missed Billy and the dogs and was looking forward to seeing them. She said she was going to miss me and did I think that was funny? Of course not I said. I understood what she meant. We had had fun together and enjoyed our adventures. Being able to just go and not have the weight that life brings on today, is freeing.

I am blessed my teenager wants to spend time with me, blessed she is happy to put the effort into our relationship and blessed we have become the friends we are. People say that it will all come to a screeching halt, that it should have by now-so far so good! We are still having a ball making memories. Memories that will last a lifetime and have shaped who we are and who we will become.

I have learned a lot about Jenny on this trip but more importantly I have learned a lot from her. There is an unbelievable wisdom, sometimes hidden, deep inside Jenny. It emerges at random times, often catching me off guard. She says things that shock me, that make me laugh harder than I ever have, that are thoughtful, that are brutally honest and that are thought provoking. I am never bored in my time spent with her, in fact I am enamored by it all.

Jenny never hesitates in pointing out the things I could have done to be a little kinder, nicer, gentler, to a stranger and I honestly welcome that. It is clichè, but it is true, Jenny has made me a better person. She truly is one of the kindest souls I have ever known. To say I feel like the luckiest mom in the world would be an understatement.

June 24, 2018

Bear Spray 101

So we found ourselves with a free week stay at a Marriott Category 5 hotel and one free airline ticket to use before mid July. I did a search for all the Cat 5 hotels and found one in Missoula, Montana, a major fishing area and a town not too far outside Glacier National Park. I have wanted to go to GNP for the last twenty or so years but other places have always seemed to jump in its way but with all the bad news coming out with climate change I decided we needed to go now, while there are still glaciers to be seen!

Montana has always been a state that has intrigued me. A place of final frontiers and big skies, a contrast of wild territory and sedate settings, an amalgamation of natural beauty and ancient history and home to a plethora of rivers chock full of trout and forests full chock of wild animals.

This was an area sacred to the Native American tribes that inhabited this land long before any European settler laid eyes on it. The Blackfeet especially, were protective of their lands and seldom welcomed outsiders to them.

As an interesting sidebar though, there was one outsider named James Willard Schultz that was welcomed, a hunter and trapper who married a Blackfeet and went on to become a well known historian and author of the Blackfeet, and is credited with giving names to dozens of geographical features in Glacier National Park. James and his wife Natahki, had a son who they named Hart Merriam Schultz, but was better known by his native name-Lone Wolf. After James’ wife died, he left the Blackfeet homelands and built a cabin in a remote area of Arizona, high in the White Mountains. The cabin still stands in that remote area of Arizona, now known as Greer, about 1/8 mile down the road from our cabin. The Schultz’s, both James and Lone Wolf, were our neighbors, so to speak, and his cabin is now a museum known as the Butterfly Lodge Museum which today memorializes more of Lone Wolf’s life as a well known painter.

The flight in, following the Clark Fork River was a bit hairy with mountains out both sides. I wouldn’t want to fly in with low visibility knowing that! Everything is so green-the landscape so far is just as I envisioned it.

The color is off-the hills are super green!

Our trip started off on a low point, with Billy landing first to no luggage. A huge bummer of course with his camera, fishing gear, and our bear protection. So after trying to figure out where his bag was, with not much luck at all, we headed to the hotel to check in and then go out to supply up for our trip. First stop Albertsons for the essentials-snacks, toiletries for Billy, beer and wine. Next stop, more essentials-the liquor store for a bottle of bourbon. Final stop, the must haves in this country-bear spray and a bell. Everything you read about hiking in Glacier says to take bear spray with you and know how to use it! We asked our questions, learned how to use (not like we will remember what they said when a monstrous grizzly bear is running 10 feet a second at you), and walked out feeling a little bit better.

There are three things in life that don’t make me happy-heights (which you got to admit, I am getting better with!), confined spaces and grizzly bears. The thought of running face to face with a grizzly makes my stomach turn. I have often wondered where that fear came from and I think it stems from when I was a very little girl, maybe 3 years old, in Greer. I can remember my Papa telling me not to go up on the hill behind the cabin because there were “Indians and bears up there.” I assume he must have told me that to keep me from wandering off. Funny thing is I went on to become fascinated by Native American culture, even focusing on it in my degree, but terrified of bears-but really only grizzlies. To this day, I still hear his words every time I start off for a hike up that hill!

We had originally thought we would go to the downtown area of Missoula for dinner but we were all starting to fade from exhaustion and our bellies were growling. The hotel is an area that has no charm, off the side of a highway with your typical chain hotels and restaurants. That’s OK though, because it was just a base for sleeping as our days will be filled with other activities and it was free. We did a quick Yelp and Trip Advisor check and settled on a Japanese place down the street-Japanese in Missoula? Yeah I know but Arby’s, McDonalds, or the Olive Garden weren’t jumping out at us. Dinner was hit and miss-some things delicious, other things not so much. We returned to the room and collapsed into bed after pulling the blackout shades because at 8:00 it was still sunny out!

Our plan for tomorrow is to A. watch the You Tube video on how to use the bear spray, B. watch the video again and C. go to the airport and look for Billy’s bag before heading out to Glacier!

June 25, 2018

A New Favorite

This morning we took our time heading out, after having breakfast at the hotel and making some phone calls concerning the reimbursements for Billy’s lack of luggage as well as where the luggage even was. We received word that the luggage was on its way to Missoula, via PHL and DFW, and Billy should receive it at some point today.

But… before we left the hotel we watched the video for how to use the bear spray one time, two times, three times and then we watched a few more YouTube videos on how to survive a bear attack-all very uplifting and motivating to head out into the hinterland!

We took a look at the paper map I got from AAA before leaving CT and decided to take a different route, the one marked as scenic, from the one the GPS was suggesting. The drive took us by the banks of the Blackfoot River, which meandered its way east through verdant valleys and mountains. We then headed north towards Glacier following along a beautiful stretch of highway that crossed through state forests and ran along windswept lakes. We continued through a large swath of agricultural area that was stunning with its vibrant yellow fields of blooming canola.

We passed a sign for Garnet Ghost Town, a place Jenny and I had read about before leaving home and decided to hang a U-turn (we couldn’t call it a road trip if somewhere along the line I didn’t make a U-turn), and go back and check it out. We paid our fee to park and walked down the path to the ghost town.

In 1895 gold was discovered in what is now Garnet and turned the once small mining town into a boomtown, that included 4 hotels and 13 saloons-very hard to imagine standing there looking at it now. The town had its ebbs and flows over the years with many people just closing the doors to their homes leaving belongings behind; by 1947 the last resident died. After that looters came through and the BLM purchased the property and preserved it for generations to come to get a perspective on mining towns of days old.

Back on the road and two and a half hours later, we entered Glacier and headed straight for the hike to Avalanche Lake. The drive in was stunning with roaring rivers, enormous cliffs with waterfalls pouring down their faces, towering trees and lush forest floor. We got lucky and found a space at the parking lot, we loaded up our packs, clipped on our bear spray and started off along the Trail of Cedars-a beautiful walk along boardwalks that rambled through a forest

of immense cedar trees whose floor was carpeted by every sort of green fluara possible.

The trail wound it’s way along a thundering river that eventually climbed higher toward alpine areas; it was more of an ascent then we had expected. At one point this woman was passing us on the trail and in response to my ubiquitous, “Hello!” she responded “Suck it up. You’ve still got 35 minutes to go.” I flipped around to Jenny and we looked at her with this incredulous look, and I responded, “Ok thanks…Buttercup.”

Another 10 minutes later this guy passing us throws his arm out and says, or at least so I thought, “Hey! Bear!” Turns out he was from Nashville and in the combination of his southern twang and my hypersensitive concerns of bears, I was mistaken and what he really said was, “Hey…Bill Merrick!” Turns out the guy was an associate from Alcon and he and Billy have had numerous opportunities to hang out. I swear we can’t go anywhere without Billy running into someone he knows, at least 90% of the time.

By the time we reached Avalanche Lake, we were beyond impressed with the beauty that lay before our eyes. We sat on the shore of this incredibly bucolic glacial lake, completely surrounded by towering mountains whose faces were dotted with various sized glaciers and tens of waterfalls cascading from one to another, eventually draining into the lake that lay at the base of the mountains.

We stayed for an hour or so, drinking in the beauty and relaxing with the sound of the roar that carried across the lake as the waterfalls tumbled down-at times it was difficult to tell the difference between the roar of the wind and the roar of the water.

The hike back was quick, as it was mostly downhill and we found ourselves back at the hotel quicker than we anticipated. We headed straight to the restaurant for dinner where our famished bellies were happily satiated by a shared appetizer of smoked trout, followed by bison meatloaf for me, an elk burger for Billy, and a free range beef burger for Jenny, all topped off with a heaping bowl of huckleberry ice cream-yum!

We were blown away by the beauty here. Jenny said Montana might have just passed Utah as her new favorite state-so much beauty out west, so hard to choose. We all agreed the west is majestic in a way that no place else in the US compares.

June 26, 2018

Don’t Mess With A Mama

We had spoken to the ranger on our way in yesterday about what hikes to do today. I knew about a few and was guided by his expertise into which ones would be best. One was closed due to snow conditions, one was partially closed due to snow conditions and bear activity and the other was open. We chose to hike the trail that was partially closed, the trail to Hidden Lake. We were going to go as far as the overlook as the part beyond that was closed due to unsafe trail conditions and numerous bears in the area.

The ranger had recommended that we get to the Logan’s Pass parking lot no later than 8:30 so I told my crew breakfast was going to have to be at 6:30…ouch! But, they agreed that an early start and guarantee of parking was worth it. We enjoyed a hearty breakfast before packing up the car, including Billy’s suitcase which had been delivered last night, and hitting the road.

Sunrise Lake MacDonald

Two weeks before we left, I had been checking Glacier’s website to see if the famous, “Going to the Sun Road” was opened and it wasn’t until the day before we left that the park road opened-Lucky us! The road is a modern wonder, cut into the hillside allowing the waterfalls to pass underneath it, or sometimes weep down the sides. It zigzags up the sides of the mountain until its highest point at Logan’s Pass at 6,646’. All the time the views are dramatic if not a bit nerve wracking!

We reached the parking lot at 8:40 and found plenty of spaces available. We exited the car to temps in the low forties, and winds blowing close to the same number. We added a few layers, lubed up on sunscreen, clipped on our bear spray and headed out for our hike-a 3 mile round trip hike, gaining about 800’ in elevation. Normally that wouldn’t be too bad, even in that higher elevation, but the entire trail was snow covered, save for maybe a couple hundred feet of it, and walking uphill in the snow adds a bit of challenge to it.

The footing was slick and a bit tricky to keep from falling but going up wasn’t as difficult as we thought. The amazing thing was watching people hike up with skis and snowboards-it is almost July isn’t it?

Once at the top, the views were outstanding but Hidden Lake was unfortunately hidden, but in a different sense as it was still ice covered.

Can you see the lake?

The bits of earth that were showing here were flora of the alpine vegetation-small dainty plants with even daintier flowers and trees that appeared stunted.

Here we encountered three scraggly mountain goats who were happily munching away on the flora in between sharpening their horns on the small trees. It is amazing how they seem to have no fear of people. I overheard a guy saying that in the summer, they bring dogs up to scare the goats into relearning to be afraid of predators-apparently they have even lost their fear of natural predators.

We enjoyed the views from the top, but were starting to feel quite a bit chilled, especially our bare hands so we decided to head back down. We knew the descent was going to be far trickier than the ascent as the snow was softening up, becoming much slicker. There was one section were walking both up and down was really a bit terrifying as we were walking across the fall line, making it much harder to center yourself and keep from slipping. A fall here would most likely not have ended well and we were all aware of that.

At one point, we watched a handful of youngsters run down the mountain and none of them fell; I on the other hand took a small tumble. Jenny decided to try this method and sure enough claimed it to be far more sure footed. After my fall, I decided to give it a try and I too felt far more stable, so she and I ran down the steepest parts-Billy wasn’t really on board with it!

The hike was awesome; different from any one we have ever taken and we appreciated that. I’m sure when the lake is thawed the view will be superb!

We continued our drive on down the mountain until we got to our next hiking destination, a trail that ran along the shores of Saint Mary Lake, passing by three different waterfalls.

The trail started off with a steep descent through incredibly thick vegetation-the kind you can be sure a bear is hanging out in foraging for berries in. It was here that I started calling out to the bears of Glacier National Park in hopes of not surprising them (one of the three reasons bears attack), and I certainly had no intention of us happening upon and startling an unsuspecting bear.

Funny thing is we happened upon a doe doing exactly that and she honestly could have cared less about us, though I assure you she heard us coming. We literally had to walk a bit off trail to get around her because she just didn’t budge and was clearly not interested in the fact we could reach out and touch her.

The first waterfall was a thunderous cataract and with the steady winds, we refreshed ourselves in its cooling spray. It is amazing how deafening the sound of water can be!

We continued on the trail getting higher and higher above the teal blue lake when we arrived at the junction of another trailhead. The additional waterfalls were still over another mile and a half away, we had already gone a mile and a half which would have made a six mile round trip hike. Billy said his legs were pretty wiped out from our morning snow hike-he should have run down like us, we used far less muscle power trying to steady ourselves-so we decided to turn around and skip the other two falls.

We continued our drive out of the park and headed north towards Canada where we re-entered the park at Many Glacier. We had all said that much of the west side of Glacier reminded us of the Lakes Region of Patagonia-the lush spruce forests tinted five shades of green, the teal hued windswept lakes surrounded by imposing mountains, the wild flowing crystal clear rivers tinted iridescent blue from the glacial sediment that is suspended in its water, and the continuous winds. When we hit the pothole strewn, washed-out, east entrance road, we felt like we had hit Southern Patagonia. The lakes on this side were more of the milky green color with three foot waves rolling down them. The rivers were just as wild but the mountains seemed far more rugged. While the grandeur of it all was comfortably familiar, it was still as exciting and thrilling as the first time we laid our eyes on such landscapes.

We checked into the Many Glacier hotel, an old Swiss chalet style historic inn built in 1915, located right on the shore of Swiftcurrent Lake, where our fourth floor walk up room gave us an incredible view over the lake and Grinnell Peak.

We decided with plenty of daylight left (it doesn’t get dark until 10:00) to take a short walk to Fishercap Lake where the bellhop told us is frequented by bears and moose.

We grabbed a beer, a bit of wine and our bear spray and started out for the short walk. We saw what appeared to be an unmarked trail that led to the edge of the lake so we took that and found ourselves on a small beach where two wildlife photographers told us they had seen a mama moose with her calf only twenty minutes earlier amongst the willows. We sat, sipping our cocktails and enjoying the scenery hoping for the moose to return when a ranger and her daughter came through the woods.

We were having a nice discussion with her when all of a sudden the moose popped back out from the willows behind the ranger maybe thirty yards away. The moose was clearly agitated that we humans were there and she began making a beeline towards us in a hurry. The ranger instructed everybody to backup and keep a distance of at least twenty five yards so we jumped into the woods and got behind some trees as the mama was clearly getting more irate by the second and charged the photographers, grunting at them with her baby in tow. Wow! That brought back some memories for Billy from an all too close encounter in Wyoming-“Run Billy Run!” Thrilling yet a bit terrifying at the same time-you don’t mess with a mama and her baby.

We watched as the mama walked across the lake (the ranger said it’s only four feet deep) and her baby swam alongside her. Mama kept stopping to eat while the calf was swimming circles. We were surprised to see how long the mama stayed out there for and even more surprised at how long the baby did!

We returned to the hotel a bit jazzed and decided to have dinner in the Ptarmigan dining room where we secured a table window side with an incredible view! We enjoyed another platter of smoked trout-rainbow this time, and bison tenderloin for both Billy and me and a bison burger for Jenny. All very good and what with the company, the view and the reminiscing of our days adventures it made for a perfect evening. It was only topped by seeing a grizzly mama and her two cubs climbing the mountain across from the hotel, all from the safety of our hotel!

We are loving this trip so far. Glacier National Park has quickly escalated to the top for us. It’s no wonder with how it reminds us so much of Patagonia. We never thought we could find any place as pure and raw as Patagonia but it turns out we have-the only difference is there are predators here!

June 27, 2018

Bears, Bears Everwhere

Sunrise on Swiftcurrent Lake and Grinnell Peak

Before we left, I had done my due diligence in finding out what the best hikes would be in each location we were going to be staying in. I had spoken to the ranger the day before, because I had read about the various conditions before leaving home, but most especially I wanted to check with him about current bear sightings and closures as I knew warming conditions, would bring with it increased bear activity, and the Many Glacier area has the highest concentration of bears in contiguous North America.

Just days prior to our arrival, the 2.6 mile nature trail that starts and ends at the hotel and goes around Swiftcucrrent Lake, had been closed due to grizzly sightings and a moose carcass.

So from what I had read, the Grinnell Glacier Trail was the trail to take. There is the option of doing the majority of the hike by boat (saving five miles roundtrip) but we had not pre-purchased the tickets and we missed the waitlist so we decided to hike the whole way there and see about taking the boats back.

We started off, down the same trail that had been closed days earlier, with a sign now posted warning of recent bear activity, and me calling out very loudly to any bears that might be listening. We passed numerous people, some with very small children and some with no visible bear spray…CRAZY FOOLS!!!

The nature trail was beautiful following the shore of the Swiftcurrent Lake and eventually turning to go up and over a small steep hill before coming to the shores of Lake Josephine.

Lake Josephine

We continued on following the shoreline from high above as we made our way deeper into the valley towards Grinnell Glacier. The trail had a fair amount of exposure on it but the views were spectacular-the turquoise color of the lake off to the left and the sheer mountain face dotted with wildflowers off to the right with numerous waterfalls carving their way down the face to the lake below, made for a picturesque scene.

The trail was carved into the side of the mountain with multiple waterfalls trickling down and crossing the trail before continuing their flow to the lake hundreds of feet below. The higher we climbed the barer the landscape became, which made it easier to spot bears but there were also many blind bends on the trail now so calling out became mandatory. The trail was well traveled but this is the very trail that a few years back a father and his daughter were mauled when they came face to face with a mama and her cubs on one of these blind bends.

The views up to this point were spectacular but after one more bend Grinnell Lake came into view below and Wow! The entirety of the majestic view in front of us was almost overwhelming. Grinnell Glacier is barely visible as it sits at the base of a cirque but Salamander and Gem glaciers are. The three glaciers feed the multiple waterfalls that tumble hundreds of feet down into the opaque turquoise Grinnell Lake. It’s no wonder it inspired the namesake, famous conservationist and founder of the Audubon Society, George Bird Grinnell to push Congress to make this area a national park. It truly has to be one of the most awe inspiring natural places in the world.

We could have stopped there but we knew the trail was open a bit further and we wanted to know that we had completed the trail, so on we climbed. We reached the area where the trail was closed and the ranger was trying people away. Thirty minutes prior, two bears had come through on their way down to the mountain. Happy us had missed them!

We ate our snacks and drank in the beauty of the views, sitting in silence, phones and cameras away and letting our senses soak up all that there was to offer.

We had missed the 11:45 return boat trip and decided to not wait around until the 2:45 boat trip, as it was only 12:30, so we decided to hike back along the opposite side of which we came on Lake Josephine. This was clearly a less traveled trail and the bushes on either side were almost shoulder height high. At this point, Jenny suggested I take the bear bell out again and she pulled her bear spray out of its holder and held it in her hand for the duration of the trip. We sang and called out to the bears and laughed and laughed and laughed, which was helpful in taking that feeling of discomfort away.

We were shocked when we came across a petite solo hiker who had no bear spray visible. Again! What is wrong with all of these people? Trust me, we were not just being overly cautious. Every single trailhead says you should carry bear spray, every convenient store and hotel gift shop sells the stuff, every park employee, including the hotel security guards carry bear spray, even the wranglers on horseback had bear spray. We returned to the hotel unscathed 4 hours and 8 miles later where we overhead the employees saying a mama grizzly and her baby had just come right through the grounds there. It seems the bears are everywhere!

The hike was most certainly the highlight of Glacier for all of us. It is difficult to put into words something that strikes such a chord with you. We have such a strong appreciation for nature and find comfort in all it has to offer. There is something to be said for spending time somewhere that brings such peace and serenity to your life.

We decided that our hard work was due a reward so we headed to the convenient store in the park where we knew we could indulge ourselves with some huckleberry soft serve, and wouldn’t you know along the way we passed a bear jam!

Our five hour drive back to Missoula was a stunning one. Every bend in the road I could hear Jenny saying, “Oh wow. That’s so pretty.” We passed Flathead Lake, the largest natural lake west of the Mississippi River, and at 192 square miles, it is immense. The drive actually flew by because the scenery was so incredibly captivating that we all forgot about how long the drive was.

Back at the hotel, with take out Chinese food in hand, we all agreed that Glacier National Park was a stunner.

June 28, 2018

A Little Bit of Tennessee in Montana

This morning was another early day as we had various activities planned for the day. Jenny and I dropped Billy off at the Grizzly Hackle Fly Fishing Outfitters before heading south to Lola, Montana where we were going to be doing a horseback ride. Up until our arrival on Sunday, Missoula had been having heavy rains and flooding issues from snowmelt so we had some concern about the quality of the fishing when we dropped Billy off, but I had lined up one of the best outfitters in Missoula, so I had faith that they would know where to find the best water.

Jenny and I had agreed to challenge ourselves by taking a ride today that would take us into new territory-we were going to be riding Tennessee Walking Horses. Neither of us have ever ridden them before but I was familiar with them and their specialized way of gaiting.

It is an interesting choice of horse to use on a ranch that offers mountain rides as Tennessee Walking Horses are known for their speed and their ability to cover a lot of flat ground and were originally bred for use on plantations, They have a fast-walk as their normal everyday gait compared to a quarter horse that can be a whole lot pokey!

We were given a very short lesson in a round pen where we were instructed to use two hands on the reins, more English style but the reins were not connected to each other. After the brief lesson, we loaded the horses up into the trailer and headed out with our guide Sierra to the Lolo National Forest where we would ride through the forest that both the Nez Perce and Lewis and Clark had traveled extensively.

The vegetation here is far more diverse than the mountains around Greer. The forest has cedars, hemlocks, pines and fir trees along with a myriad of flowering bushes, grass varietals and wildflowers, all growing very close together.

Getting used to the horse’s gait didn’t take too long and we both rather enjoyed the speed and smoothness of it all, we even managed a few canters. The ride lasted a bit more than two hours and most enjoyable-we were happy to have had the opportunity to try something different from that which we have become accustomed to.

After riding, we set out to find some lunch and did in the way of a Brazilian restaurant styled after a Chipotle. The food was very good and again something completely different. Our guide had told us about an ice cream place that is old style Missoula and that we needed to go there for a cone, so not wanting to ignore a local tip, we headed there next. Jenny had a mint cookie ice cream and I had huckleberry-both very good.

We decided that since Billy wouldn’t be returning for quite some more time, we would walk around the historic area of Missoula and check out the shops and just get a feel for the town.

We stopped into a vinyl record store that ended up having the best prices for vinyls we had ever come across, it was also the most chaotic one we had been in, but we managed to score some great records at awesome prices.

We enjoyed stopping in some of the other funky stores and having a coffee in a really cool coffee shop. Missoula is a neat town though Jenny did make some comments about their being some “scary dudes” here.

We met up with Billy around 6:00 at a restaurant his fishing guide had suggested. He had a great day on the water with Matt, who turned out to be from Maryland and wouldn’t you know had a connection to a family that had been Billy’s neighbors growing up.

They had chosen to fish the Clark Fork River, about 60 miles West of Missoula where the water wasn’t running as high and the river is a favorite of many local guides. Turns out Billy had a great day on the water catching about 30 pan-size rainbows and west slope cutthroats, all from within two pockets.

He really liked Matt and that is great because we are all fishing with him tomorrow.

June 29, 2018

Jenny is the Winner

Today’s plan was to meet up with Matt for a day’s fishing on the Blackfoot River. Our weather up until today had been beautiful and we were very lucky that we had clear skies for our trip through Glacier. Today, we woke to overcast skies, chillier temps and the threat of rain.

The three of us were going to float in one drift boat, something we had never done before, and something we knew might be a bit tight. We have always had to hire two boats but this outfitter allowed for three of us to float together.

Jenny and I took the bow, while Billy took the stern. Jenny had said from the get go that she wasn’t too sure if she would fish but Billy and I knew that she would eventually take a rod.

Matt was great, guiding us gently and with humor and enthusiasm. I had made it known from the get go that I always have had an issue with setting the hook. Nine times out of ten I lose a fish because I set the hook too early and end up ripping it out of the fish’s mouth. The good news for me was that was precisely what Matt told us to do-set the hook like you are backcasting-hard and fast!

Right off the bat, Bily hooked into a fish that Matt thought was a Bull Trout, an endangered native fish, that is the holy grail to the local guides. Unfortunately, he lost it; but then I did too on for my first fish on as well as the subsequent five or so fish. Meanwhile, Billy got on the board with a bunch of fish and I was still at zero and Jenny hadn’t even tried yet.

We stopped for lunch on the bank of the river where Matt fed us a delicious chicken caesar salad with chips and cookies. We walked along the river bank, one of the only ones clear of water as the river was still running pretty high, and came across a nest from one of the plovers that was hanging around the area. It is really amazing that they lay their nests right on the ground. with zero protection from predators. We were so relieved that we saw it and had not stepped on it while we were walking around!

Back on board the boat, we convinced Jenny it was time she tried to catch a fish. She semi-reluctantly took the rod and began following Matt’s guidance to a tee. She missed the first two hits-they were so subtle but then whamo! She did a perfect set and got what turned out to be a beautiful west slope cutthroat; AND she beat me on the board. With that, she handed me the rod and sat down to try and warm up a bit.

My turn next and it wasn’t too long until I also landed a fish-finally on the board!

Handing the rod back to Jenny she fished for a bit longer before once again, she did a perfect set and she was hooked into a beautiful fish. Matt was so gentle in talking her through the steps to take as he was trying to stay calm in his excitement for her and the fact the boat was traveling down through some smaller rapids dotted with large boulders at that time. With his expertise and Jenny’s calm disposition and ability to follow directions, she landed a gorgeous 19-inch, fat, brilliantly colored rainbow.

Back to my turn, I caught another fish, a very nice size fish but Jenny’s was still bigger, and Billy continued to keep catching some as welll. Jenny got the rod back but after a while the cold got to her and she handed the rod back to me. I caught one more as Billy had continuously caught fish. The day ended up with:

Jenny-2 fish

Dom-3 fish

Billy-something like 15 fish

All of us got one really nice fish but Jenny’s fish was by far the biggest and she landed it in the most difficult of situations-You go Jenny!

Our float trip was awesome. We certainly enjoyed the thrill of it all, the incredible scenery, the camaraderie with our guide and the feeling of accomplishment that came with it.

By the time we got back to town, we were all a bit tired and we decided to grab a beer and split some nachos at the local brew pub.

Afterwards, we walked down to the old carousel and watched the kids going round, trying to be the first one to grab the brass ring and marveling at how incredibly fast this particular carousel seemed to go.

We then walked over to the riverside walk that runs right alongside the Clark Fork River through downtown Missoula and watched the surfers take to Brennan’s wave-a $300,000 man-made wave in the middle of the river, named after a Missoula native that died kayaking in Chile in 2001. It is pretty wild watching people surf in the middle of a river in a land-locked town, but you have got to love their resourcefulness.

This day is always a tough day for me, the anniversary of my father’s passing but I know my dad would be tickled by the adventures Billy, Jenny and I have together. It was a great family day today, sharing firsts with Jenny. We had lots of laughs and lots of high fives. The smile on Jenny’s face when she landed that beauty was priceless, as I am sure the smile on our faces beaming with pride were equally as priceless!

June 30, 2018

On the Trail of Lewis and Clark

The day we arrived, Jenny saw a sign advertising ziplining and asked if we could do it. One of the local ski mountains has it set up on the lower section of their mountain so in looking over their web page it seemed safe and appeared to be in a pretty area. We drove up to Snowbowl in time to make the 10:30 zip and were excited to find out we were the only ones there so we would have it all to ourselves.

The three guides were young and fun, they suited us up with a harness similar to one you would use for paragliding, gave us some safety tips and we were off hiking up the mountain with our heavy equipment slung over our shoulders to schlep them easier.

The first zip line was more of a quick lesson on the three positions they wanted you to assume-the most important one was the tuck at the end when you come flying into the landing area and hit the pads and giant springs that absorb the impact.

There were three more zips, each one progressively longer that brought you flying close to 35 mph through the tops of tall fir trees all with beautiful views. You didn’t go as fast as the one at Sunrise near Greer (that one’s close to 50 mph) and they weren’t as long as the one we did in Costa Rica (one zip was almost a mile), but they were fun and the guides were really outgoing and they were having a blast, so it added to the whole experience.

We left there and made a stop at the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation headquarters. The dioramas were amazing as were the trophy heads hanging on the wall which included some of the largest elk ever taken (at least since records have been being taken), including the #1 and #2 largest elk, along with the #12 taken in Arizona. A really interesting stop!

We decided that since we had no plans for the day, we would drive south through the Bitterroot Valley to Darby along a stretch of road that many told us was one of the prettiest in the state and the most quintessential Montana.

Once we were out of Missoula. and through Darby, the land opened up to a large prairie maybe 10 miles wide as we followed the Bitteroot River through the valley with the abruptly rising snow capped Bitterroot Mountains on the western side and the gentle hills of the Sapphire Mountains on the eastern side.

The Bitterroot is a bit of a geographical phenomena as it is actually a northward flowing river. The area was sacred to the Salish tribes that lived here and historical in Lewis and Clark’s journey to the Pacific. Today, the Bitterroot is the third most fished river in Montana behind the Madison and Big Hole Rivers.

We arrived in Darby about an hour and twenty minutes later and decided on lunch at the Blue Joint, we grabbed a table outside, ordered lunch and sat and watched small town life go by. Darby has a population of 720 people and certainly has that small town feel.

The restaurant/bar we ate at used to be the bank and when Jenny and I went inside to use the restroom, we were treated to a short tour by a local couple sitting at the bar. They pointed out the old bank vaults that are now used as the beer cooler and booze house. The area was at one time a huge logging mecca as evidenced by the signs supporting the timber industry and the dozen or so antique chainsaws hanging from the ceiling. A cool spot with good food and nice people-our kind of place!

After lunch, we took a stroll through town stopping at the Sacajawea Memorial Park and then Jenny and I went into a confectionary whose owner had clearly had a stroke but he was such a nice man and he was talking up his wife, the baker and chocolatier so much that we purchased a few sweet treats.

We exited the store to find Billy engrossed in a conversation with Carl, a local guy probably in his 70s, who had been watering the flowers in the park and stopped to talk to Billy when he saw him waiting for us. They had spoken the whole time Jenny and I were in the store, for about twenty minutes, and we continued to do so for another five minutes or so. He was an interesting guy, a true local character!

We got back in the car and decided to check out some of the fishing accesses just to see how the river looked. It is a beautiful river, perfect for floating!

We had passed a sign that said “Knife Sale” which of course intrigued Billy. He wanted to go check it out because he envisioned elk antler handles and hand forged blades at a discount so we turned down a side street into a residential area that was a bit shady looking and arrived at the house. The man had a table set up outside his camper selling knives made in China. He was a disabled vet and before Billy got out of the car I told him he had better buy something! He and Jenny went to peruse the offerings and chatted with the man for a bit. Billy settled on a knife for $30 and when they turned to leave the man gave Jenny a knife that said, “World’s Greatest Dad,” and told Jenny, “You know what you need to do with this.” It was a very nice gesture.

Heading back home, we stopped in Hamilton to check out the Daly Mansion. Riverside, is a beautiful 40 room mansion built by the widow of Marcus Daly, a copper magnate to be used as her summer residence from 1910 until her death in 1941. We had missed the last tour for the inside and the grounds were closing in twenty minutes, but we had enough time to walk around and enjoy the beautiful gardens and the largest cottonwood trees I have ever seen.

Instead of heading back the highway we came down, we took the country roads back which gave us an even better perspective of Montana. We passed through cute towns, especially Stevensville whose Main Street was awesome! We would have definitely stayed to walk around if it wasn’t already getting late.

The last stop was to try and see Traveler’s Rest State Park, the only confirmed camp site of Lewis and Clark, but the gates were closed-oh well…

We returned to the hotel and went out for a light dinner to the same place we had a few nights ago, followed by ice cream at Sweet Peaks-a totally awesome ice cream joint where we got a scoop of Grand Fir Chocolate Chunk-chocolate ice cream infused with pine extract and needles from local fir trees-absolutely delicious!!!!

Another fabulous day in Montana!

July 1, 2018

Jenny, a Griz? I Doubt It!

This morning we decided to grab breakfast out at a place better than ihop or the free breakfast offered by the hotel. We went downtown to a place I had read about and had a hearty breakfast to prepare ourselves for the flight home.

Passed this train on our way to breakfast.

Billy’s flight was out three hours before ours so we dropped him at the airport and bid him adieu. Jenny and I then drove to check out this crazy hippy bus called the Ghetto Gypsy, we had seen parked. Turns out it is a business and can be rented for different events-totally crazy!

From there we drove through a residential area of Missoula where some of the larger older homes are located. It was a beautiful neighborhood with all the homes immaculate with lush green grass and gorgeous flowers beds and pots. Why is it that mountain towns always seem to have the most bountiful yards?

We were close to the University of Montana and still had a few hours to kill so we decided to walk around the campus and check it out. It’s not really a contender as far as Jenny is concerned but it’s always neat to see another campus, to give you perspective and a point of comparison.

Jenny is so excited to get out of high school and go to college, so it’s fun to walk around and share her enthusiasm.

From there we went to check out a few other stores and get a cup of coffee at the same coffee shop we stopped in before. Just as we sat down, I got a text from Billy that his flight had been cancelled due to an ill flight attendant and the airlines was working on getting him home today. Poor Billy…he has had some bad luck with traveling lately! Jenny said it was karma for walking past the piece of trash on the trail in Glacier that she then stopped and picked up. She said the karma came back around to her in the form of a venti chai latte from Starbucks-we had ordered and paid for a grande but they accidentally made her a venti-karma? Maybe. Too funny!

We enjoyed our coffee and then watched as some unsavory characters milled about on the streets, including the same “scary dudes” from a few days before, and the woman screamer, but this time there was a new guy. We watched as he pretty much was trying to hold himself up using the wall and getting into it with some of the other street people. We waited for what we thought was enough time for them to be gone but when we walked out of the coffee shop, we turned right and saw a group of them sitting on the ground, so we took a quick left and came upon a bunch across the street, another quick right and we quickly crossed the street where we saw the new guy standing there shaking a small tree with all of his might. Another quick right and we were in the clear.

Montana was a great trip, it had something for everyone and lots for all three of us! The beauty of Glacier National Park and Jenny catching that big trout, will not soon be forgotten.

As an after note, we were sitting in Minneapolis and Jenny opened her carry on, and look what made it through security! Crazy thing is the guy in front of us had his butter knife taken away. Not really very comforting….

May 26, 2018

Lucky Us!

When we did our cross country drive to Arizona last summer, the return drive had us going through Utah where we stayed a wonderful night in Moab. We were all enchanted by the red rock country, Jenny especially, and spoke of the need to return and explore it more. Since we had an extra long weekend over Memorial Day, we decided to head back to red rock country via a nonstop into Vegas. The only catch? We would have to travel on Billy’s birthday. The good news was that we would be landing early enough to enjoy a meal at one of the excellent restaurants in Vegas-sushi we decided-Billy’s favorite!

Our dinner, while ridiculously expensive was absolutely delicious. I had used a free night certificate that was going to expire soon so our hotel was free and thus allowed the splurge for a memorable meal. With satiated bellies we were all asleep before it was dark!

This morning had us up and out the door by 6:15. We had decided over dinner last night, that we would make the trek to Bryce Canyon National Park (a four hour drive) and then head on to Zion (another 2 hour drive). Zion is only 2 1/2 hours from Vegas so we were going the really long way but we figured we were here so we should see it and we are all road warriors so time in the car is no big deal to us.

The drive from Vegas to the Arizona border was about as boring as my college psychology professor, but after that the scenery picked up. As we drove north on I-15, we marveled at the change of scenery we experienced along the way-all of it various shades of green- olive mountains, emerald fields, and almost turquoise rivers. We were entertained for a long stretch watching a crop duster flying acrobatically low across the ground then banking straight up to the heavens, only to repeat the death-defying feat moments later.

As we drove higher and higher, we suddenly busted through the verdant vistas we had been enjoying to shocking crimson hills, seemingly carefully etched in wondrous shapes. The contrast of colors-the shockingly red hills, the smattering of deep green bushes against the azure sky was a remarkable sight!

As we approached the entrance to Bryce National Park, we encountered what we feared would set the tone for our trip-long lines, hordes of people and little solace. The car line was ten deep in four lanes across but I moved to the far right where I saw a ranger who appeared to be letting cars through and I was hoping that our annual pass would do the trick-bingo! We were waved right through. But a minute later we encountered the next back up at the parking lot of the visitor center. I told Jenny and Billy to hop out and I would just keep driving in circles until they were done but a few minutes later, Bingo! I got a front row spot-lucky us!

The ranger inside told me that I should go and park in the lot a few miles away and take a shuttle into the park if we had any desire to see anything. She said I’d never find a parking spot if we drove in on our own but if we insisted, we should try to park at Sunrise Point.

A few minutes later we approached the turn off for Sunrise Point and I suggested we just give it a try for the heck of it. We drove in to find a line of cars that we slowly inched along with when bingo! A car leaves and we grab their shady spot! A few minutes later I overhear the parking ranger saying they closed the entrance to the parking lot because there were too many people and not enough spaces available. Lucky us!

I asked that same ranger to clarify a hike the other ranger had told me about. He recommended we do it in the reverse of what we were told because, he said, the ascent from the valley floor would be more gradual in the counterclockwise direction-something that sounded far more appealing to all of us.

There is something about walking through a thick forest of tall trees only to be met abruptly by an abyss as far as the eye can see to put into perspective just how truly minuscule we are. Those last steps after clearing the canopy, to a wide open space of seemingly never ending chasms has always captured my imagination. I think of the initial pioneers, who carved the “roads” west and what they must have thought when they came upon that. Ohhhhhhh sh@t… is what comes to my mind! I think after coming to terms with the obstacle that lay ahead, they must have thought, it a most bizarre but wondrous sight.

Our hike down was steep with switchback after switchback taking us further below the rim and deeper into the land of hoodoos. Each one unique, like a fingerprint, some standing sentry alone, others poised together, and some with tops that look as though the next great gust will certainly push it over. Such a unique place.

Once to the bottom, the trail wound through a more forested environment whose shade brought nice respites from the blazing sun. We were amazed at the various people that were out hiking-loads of family, some with kids too small to walk but most with wee ones who were delighting in their adventure, very senior couples who I was amazed by, the perpetual hikers, and of course many foreigners-Chinese, Japanese, Indian, French, Italian, Spanish, South African and Dutch. I recognize the language the moment they speak it, a mother tongue I never learned but one that resonates with my heart when it is spoken. I also always greet my Dutch “kin,” usually to their wonderment.

The ascent up, 660 feet, was not nearly as strenuous as the descent going down. We felt for the poor souls who were going the opposite way. Once to the top, we walked along the rim trail for the full overview of the magnificent canyon below. We stopped to take photos and I said what a true treat it was to be able to witness something so lovely and truly special.

We decided that the little over three mile hike we just completed was spectacular and knew it was considered the jewel of the park, so the decision was made to not venture any further into the park but to start our journey on to Zion. I thanked the parking ranger again for his fantastic advice to do the trail in reverse, and we headed out.

The drive along the beautiful greenish hued Pine Creek, meandered through a lush valley all the while with the beautiful mountains on both sides was lovely. I suggested Billy could take a little cat nap but he responded, “And miss this. No way!” As we began to drop down into Zion, the soaring white and red rock mountains began to appear-what an amazing view. The rock looks like giant rippled sand dunes in varying shade of grey, white, pink and red that have been frozen hard over time.

As we slowly zigzagged our way through the canyon, we came upon The trailhead for the short Canyon View trail that I had read about. People said it is usually a good one to go to when the park is busy, that it is usually not too crowded but that was not the case today. I turned into what small area in the pull out I could manage and hoped someone would come soon. Bingo! A few minutes later we were in-Lucky us!

The hike started with steps going up, built into the rock and then took a sharp right turn following high above Pine Creek. On one side, the rocks were close enough to touch, on the other, a drop off into Pine Creek Canyon. At points, handrails had been hammered into the rock to act as a barrier and to probably give acrophobic people like me a sense of security.

At one point the mountain face became so steep that wooden planks were laid down on top of metal grating which was then screwed into the rock face to act as footing. Not my ideal trail but surprisingly, I managed OK. The trail wound through caves, past lush mini grottos and over rock worn smooth by the test of time and probably millions of hiking shoes!

 

Half a mile later we arrived at the viewpoint high above the road below and looking out at some of the more famous geographical features in Zion-the sentinel, the beehives, the streaked wall and the altar of sacrifice ( so named one would assume, from the streak of red running down from the top). The sun was in our face so the view wasn’t as amazing as I would assume it otherwise would be, but spectacular nonetheless.

A quick return to the car and the drive through the Zion Mount Carmel tunnel-a 1.1 mile long tunnel, built in the late ’20s, that is credited for taking Zion from a completely isolated park to the ridiculously busy one it is today, and we arrived into the town of Springdale-our home for the next two nights.

We checked in, got settled and then took the free town shuttle up the road to dinner-The Spotted Dog Cafe. Our meal was very good-smoked trout and artichoke appetizers plus a game meatloaf, duck breast and pesto pasta for our entrees. As our mojo was fading, we headed back to the hotel to get the sleep we needed to take on our seven mile hike tomorrow. But first we all marveled at the beauty of the setting sun on the tips of the crimson walls surrounding us, truly spectacular…

May 27, 2018

Wrecked, in a Good Way

Today was a planned day-a long hike to take in all that is Zion. In my compulsive preplanning stage, I came across a trip report where someone had hired a shuttle to take them to the rim above Zion canyon where they could then hike back down to the bottom. It sounded perfect to me-a hike that is not out and back on the same trail, that gives you a different prospective, and the first three miles at least should not be too crowded.

The drive up to the trailhead was a repeat of yesterday’s drive in, only in the opposite direction and only I wasn’t driving this time so I got the wonderful perspective of being a passenger. It was insane the lines we past for people to get on the shuttle to take them in the park (we heard later the lines were up to two hours long), so I was very thankful I had planned the hike this way.

Not too long after we passed through the Zion Mt Carmel Bridge, we turned off the highway on to a dirt road. The drive was beautiful through many private ranches until thirty minutes later we came to the trailhead. The shuttle dropped us off and before we knew it, we were left to our own devices to make our way back down to the main canyon following the East Mesa Trail.

The walk along the high rim country reminded all of us of Greer-the air was still a tad bit crisp, the sky was as blue as a pair of original 501s, the sun was heating the downed pine needles giving them that distinct smell, and the wind in the tops of the pines sounded like the ocean; it brought us all to a happy place!

We passed bright yellow false sunflowers, wild purple lupine and pink geraniums, dainty white rock daisies and prickly pear cactus with fuchsia flowers. The greenery was of a variety unfamiliar to me, save for the pine trees and junipers. Off to both sides were views out over equally impressive canyons-all carved from the force of water.

As we drew closer to the “star of the show,” we recognized that fact the land area was getting smaller and smaller. The canyons on either side were coming closer to the main trail. We could also tell because we joined with another trail and we began to encounter more and more people. We only saw a handful on the first three miles, leaving us to hike in solace.

As we emerged from the trees, all of Zion Canyon lay in front of us…wow! We hadn’t actually seen any of this part yet (the entire main canyon of the national park), so to see it from 2500 feet above was mesmerizing. The grandness of it all, with its imposing sheer white, black and rust rock walls was magnificent.

From where we stood on top of Observation Point, we looked down on the famed Angel’s Landing. We could see the lines of hikers backed up waiting for their turn to cross the spine of the rock, holding on to nothing but a chain. I was much happier with our decision from where we were perched.

We found a nice place in the shade, away from the precipice that was bringing nausea on watching all the people standing right on the edge of it, and settled in. We were enjoying the moment, munching away on our vegetarian sandwiches when Jenny suddenly says, “Oh mom,” in this tone that you know means there is something that she knows that I am not gonna like. “What?” I ask trying not to panic too quickly. “Oh mom,” she says again. Now the heart starts racing a bit faster. “What?” I ask again in a more forceful tone. “What is it?” Slowly her hand goes up, out comes her pointer finger and she says, “I think that’s the trail over there,” pointing across the chasm that divided us. I stand and look and see brightly colored shirts moving on a trail that is clearly cut into the mountain with a long steep drop off on the side. I take a deep breath and defiantly say, “There are trees on the side of the trail. I will be Ok. It’s only if it is total exposure that I’d freak out.” “Oh mom,” she says again. “I’ll be Ok,” I assure her again. “Uhm mom, I wasn’t pointing to that part of the trail. I was pointing to the crack in the rock.” “What do you mean, the crack in the rock? How can there be a trail in the crack of a rock?” Looking even harder all I see is a sheer rock face. “You see that crack over there? Look at it and just below that to the right. You see that V carved into the rock? I think that’s the trail,” Jenny says, almost afraid that she’s right. In total disbelief, I stare even harder until sure enough, I see people moving on it. There isn’t a tree or a bush anywhere. It is literally carved in a zigzag down a sheer rock wall face-nothing but exposure. I sit back down in total silence and finish my sandwich. Then say, “I think I’m gonna vomit.” Jenny offers me a cookie, as though that might fix everything and I say, “Well, I have no choice. I’m just gonna have to suck it up and do it.”

See the < on the right side of the stone face? That’s what Jenny was pointing at-the trail!

The first part of the trail was as I had suspected, even with the two thousand foot drop offs, I was OK. The trees and bushes provided the barrier I needed. But after that holy cow…was that a different story. The trail was about five feet wide but at some points it was no more than three feet wide. The exposure off the one side was total insanity (though I think Angel’s Landing is even worse). I hung tight to the rock wall, as did Jenny because I warned her she had better if she didn’t want to be embarrassed by me freaking out at her if she got too close to the edge!

 

There were only a few times I actually made audible gasps but besides that, I actually did just fine. As we traversed the escarpment, the views of the rugged canyon kept changing but each was equally majestic. Down, down, down we went. We reminisced about one of our hikes in Patagonia where we were wishing for some more uphill to take the pressure off our knees and toes-we found ourselves wishing for the same now. The sun was scorching and there were few spots that relieved us from its relentless beating. As such, I was astonished at the number of hikers going up with nothing more than a small bottle of water.

We eventually entered a beautiful slot canyon where the cooler air and flatter terrain was a welcome respite. We thought perhaps we were near the bottom but after another turn we came out looking over the road below, with still almost a thousand feet to go down another set of vertical switchbacks.

There’s the trail and that tiny thin green line behind the tree is where the road is.

By the time we made it to the bottom, we had descended four miles and 2100 feet in just about two hours.

We grabbed a park shuttle back to the visitor center and then the free shuttle back to the hotel. Billy and I grabbed a beer on the deck while Jenny cleaned up. We walked across the street to the Spur and Bit, had a great Mexican dinner and then back to the hotel where I left Jenny and Billy in the lobby for a little father daughter time to play a few games of pool.

We were in bed by dusk and all agreed it had been a fabulous day. A day spent with family surrounded by the wonders of nature, not too much more one could ask for!

May 28, 2018

Wrecked Yesterday, Obliterated Today

This morning was an early call, we planned to be out the door with bags packed by 7:00 AM. We were driving to Zion Lodge where we would spend the night tonight and because of that, we were able to park our car there and pick up the shuttle from there to the trailhead-a huge time savings! Our destination for the day was The Narrows, the one thing Jenny had specifically requested to do on this trip. We had picked up the necessary gear yesterday-neoprene socks, water boots and a wading staff. We had received conflicting reports whether or not the special gear was necessary but I had decided, overkill in these situations is always better than underkill.

We arrived at the trailhead a little before eight with maybe a dozen other people. The air was cooler than crisp and there was a steady breeze with overcast skies. The first mile of the trail was a paved path that followed along the banks of the beautiful, gin-clear Virgin River. It had a turquoise tint in the deeper spots and frankly reminded us of so many of the wild rivers we had seen in Patagonia. Along the sides of the trails, were hanging gardens of ferns and wildflowers with very small springs erupting from the rock above.

Where the Riverside walk ends, The Narrows begins. We wasted no time hopping in the water and starting the trek up the Virgin River Canyon. The initial shock of cold water quickly subsided as we rapidly became accustomed to the chilly temperature. There was about twenty of us that entered the water at the same time but we quickly upped our game to get in front of them so we would not be traveling in a pack with them the whole time.

Our initial exposure to the canyon was utter fascination. There is nothing like being at the base to give you the perspective of just how immense the walls are. Yesterday we were at the top, today the bottom. Every turn brought on the “Oh Wows” and “Spectaculars.”

The hike winds it’s way through the canyon floor, traversing the river bottom. There are times you must cross the river to reach the dry land, sometimes its ankle deep and sometimes mid-thigh but all the time you are walking on river rocks and even though the river was gin clear, it was at times difficult to judge the size and shape of where you were placing your foot. The good news was that the gear was awesome-boots with support for the ankles and sticky rubber soles and the pole which kept us upright as we moved quickly up river.

Our thirty minutes of pushing hard paid off because for the remainder of our trek we were by ourselves almost the entire time. It was glorious…beyond glorious…it was truly magical!

We arrived at the junction for Orderville Canyon around 10:00 and decided to press on for another hour, through Wall Street and Floating Rock. We had been told there was no more high ground (not that any of the ground had been really high), and that area became more dangerous in case of floods.

The outfitter yesterday had given us the site to check for the weather forecast and this morning it had said 40% chance of thunderstorms beginning at noon-making for a possibility of flash floods. Some place you do not want to be is in one of these slot canyons during a flood. Unfortunately, deep in the canyon, we had no service to continue to monitor the radar and because we could only see a slight slice of the sky, which remained grey, we had to rely on the initial forecast and thus it was prudent to turn around. We had traveled three miles up river, far further than most people travel and it had remained that there were few other hikers than us.

On the return, we were astounded by the numbers of people now in the Narrows-it was truly disgusting. We literally passed hundreds and hundreds of people. We saw people trying to hike it in flip flops and bare feet and people carrying their kids (who had regular sparkly street shoes on)-outrageous! We were so thankful we went early and got out when we did. We would have had a completely different experience otherwise!

We grabbed the shuttle back to the hotel, picked up the car and drove to town where we had a tasty lunch at Thai Sapa. We returned our rental gear, checked out a few shops and returned to the lodge to enjoy the beautiful surroundings and some time on our deck looking at the beauty that was there.

Dinner was at the lodge, thank goodness I had made a reservation ahead of time because people were being turned away and there is no other option in the park-you have to drive to Springdale. Dinner was good-but the view sitting outside and the company was what really made it spectacular.

Yesterday Billy said we wrecked him. Today he said we had obliterated him-poor guy. In all fairness while both Jenny and I were fine yesterday, we definitely felt it today after all that pushing against the current. Still we said, it was all totally worth it-We’d do it again in a heartbeat!

May 29, 2018

Just One More Hike

Another early morning was in store for us-Jenny’s choosing again. Our flight out of Vegas wasn’t until 4:00 so we had a majority of the day today to explore some more. There was another hike we were interested in doing, as well as a stop at Valley of Fire State Park, an hour outside of Vegas, and the topper for our vacation-a late lunch at In-N-Out! We planned our schedule down to the half hour so we could fit it all in but it required a 6:30 AM wake up and strict adherence to the times.

We decided on grabbing some breakfast at the lodge so we could make it through until our planned 2:00 meal. This took a bit longer than expected but we still were thinking we had plenty of time. Our hike today (can you believe we opted for another hike?), was to the Emerald Pools, billed in the hiking pamphlet as a leisurely family stroll.

The Lodge and the View

We hit the trailhead across from the lodge and quickly began a steady ascent. The views as we climbed were picturesque-we looked out to Angel’s Landing (we could already see the people on top and it was only 8:00 AM) and Observation Point, as well as the trail we came down on. We were laughing that if someone had pointed up to the top of Observation Point and then told us we were going to hike down from there in under two hours, we would have thought them crazy!

See the mountain in the back? That’s the trail across the ridge line and then down the right side.

The trail was certainly steeper than we had anticipated but as we neared the 3/4 mile point, we came upon the first pool. We pretty much had the place to ourselves and what a treat that was. The pool is fed from a spring that cascades down from the overhanging cliff above. The trail actually winds behind the waterfall as it plunged to the pool below. There was a decent stream of water today and one can only imagine how it might look with a high spring runoff. It’s hard to believe that you are actually in the midst of a desert when admiring scenes such as these.

 

Jenny Catching Water Drops

We continued around the pool to be met by several sets of steep sets, all carved from rock and all covered in a loose coating of the sand. Much of the red rock in Zion is Navajo Sandstone-a relatively soft sedimentary rock that breaks down fairly easily when any abrasion occurs, thus the sandy trails.

The middle of the Emerald Pools was a smaller pool being fed by a spring that ran gently from the base of the hill across the rock into the pool, until it overflowed as the waterfall we had just walked behind below. Jenny said the small ripples that had been carved into the rock look so perfect as to be man made-but I reminded her, it is Mother Nature though that does a superior job in creating the jewels of nature, not man; man merely draws inspiration from her and copies it.

The pool reflected the cliffs from way across the other side of the canyon just splendidly, while the sound of the trickling water created a zen like atmosphere that one could sit down and enjoy if not for having to adhere to a blasted schedule!

So, on to the upper pool we went but now the trail turned to mostly sand and there was no more shade to be had. We quickly heated up as we continued to hoof it up hill as we recognized our time was beginning to run thin. We made it to the top pool which was sitting directly at the base of an enormous rock wall and though was not quite as spectacular as we had hoped, it was serene nonetheless and we were the only ones there! Jenny spied a couple of frogs sunning themselves on the face of a rock which was entertaining to watch as we cooled ourselves in the shade for a short time.

 

Noticing the time, we realized we had to make haste and move like the wind to get back down to keep our planned departure time of 10:00. Twenty minutes later, we descended the 400 feet it had just taken us over an hour to climb (we stop for too many darn photos)!

We hopped in the car (about 25 minutes late-unexpected showers delayed us) and bid our adieus to Zion. Jenny said she thought Zion was the prettiest place she had been, outside of Patagonia-it’s difficult to not agree. Utah, she declared, is now her favorite state.

We gained an hour of time when we crossed into Nevada but it still left us tight on time. We turned into Valley of Fire with about 45 minutes of time to work with. We had pretty much figured it was going to be a drive thru viewing anyway as temperatures were in the high 90s. There was one spot Jenny had wanted to see and when we stopped into inquire with the ranger, he informed us it was an hour round trip with total exposure, no shade anywhere. That quickly sealed the deal and we opted to drive the scenic loop in our perfectly air conditioned car.

Having just spent four days in some of the most scenic and breathtaking red rock country anywhere, we knew Valley of Fire would not even be able to compare but it wouldn’t be fair to hold it to such judgement. Instead we found the uniqueness in its simpler, less formal formations. The rock reminded me of when I was a child at the beach, building sandcastles and after using a cup to build my castle walls, I would then take wet sand and dribble it on top to form the turrets. The red rock here was brilliant in color containing lots of small holes and caves which had been carved into it by the forces of wind and rain. From a far, Jenny said, they looked like cliff dwellings, but on a smaller scale-she was certainly correct. The hills had softer features, character if you will, that was neither grand nor majestic but intriguing instead. The really wild thing was the rock looked as though it had been plopped down with no rhyme or reason on this otherwise flat desert area.

We enjoyed our drive through the park and exited right on schedule! Billy found the nearest In-N-Out, where we concluded our vacation by indulging in a delicious cheese burger-yummy!

All three of us loved our trip. There’s nothing like the beauty of nature to bring peace and calm to your life. Days spent in the wonders of the natural world are like a resetting of body and soul. The sore aching muscles aren’t even a bother when they’ve come by exertions brought on by the challenges of trying to conquer nature. The famous author Edward Abbey once said, “Wilderness is not a luxury, but a necessity of the human spirit.” I think we couldn’t agree more!