Author: Wandering Amerrickans

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!

March 29, 2018

Austin, the capital of the Lone Star State is a booming area known for its music and food scene. Except for driving through Texas and flying in and out of DFW dozens of times, Jenny and I haven’t been here (Billy of course has many times), so we chose Austin as another one of our long weekend, get-to-know-the-US, destinations. Up until the day we arrived, Austin had seen a deluge of rain, up to 5 inches in 24 hours, but the weather had moved on for our arrival. We awoke to bluebird skies, dry air with a slight chill in the air and a steady breeze-our favorite conditions. Our hotel is located on the banks of the Colorado River and Lady Bird Lake, so we walked along the foot trail and crossed the River to the downtown area to go have breakfast at a spot Billy had selected.

The food was fine, nothing to write home about but it filled our hungry that bellies that never had dinner the night before! Billy had read that one of the top bike shops in the US was located in Austin and was just a short jaunt from where we had breakfast, so after paying homage to a statue of Willie Nelson, we made our way to Mellow Johnny’s Bike Shop.

Mellow Johnny’s was founded by Lance Armstrong, someone I am no fan of. ts name actually a play on the French words “maillot jaune”, meaning “yellow jersey”; and just an added bit of info the name of the adjoining coffee shop, Juan Pelota, is a play on Spanish words “one ball”. The humor of that is about the only redeeming thing I can say about him! The bike shop was cool, located in a historic warehouse building and Billy and Jenny had fun “shopping”-jenny insisting that Billy buy a jersey instead of a t-shirt. Since we had gone in a completely opposite direction of what I had thought we would do today, I went with it and changed plans. Leaving the bike shop we continued along 6th Avenue, clearly a road meant for those whose sole purpose is to drink the night away bar hopping from one establishment to its neighbor.-not exactly our cup of tea. We arrived at our next destination, Waterloo Records-the best record store in the city. They had a huge selection but most were new, and we were most interested in used. We did manage to pick up a few -Led Zepplin, Bob Marley, Flatt and Scruggs (an old bluegrass duo), a double album of Dick Clark’s classic rock n roll choices and a few other never heard of bands that Jenny bought more for the cover art than any knowledge of the actual music.

We headed out from Waterloo further north and a bit west towards our next destination-Hope Outdoor Gallery. Along the way, we walked through a lovely neighborhood of older elaborate homes on one side and arts and crafts style bungalows on the other. We all said it would be a nice neighborhood to live in if we should ever find ourselves moving to Austin.

Hope Outdoor Gallery is really nothing more now than a tiered graffiti park found on the remnant foundations of a hillside complex of some sort. At one time, it was an actual gallery of murals done by local artists but since the announcement that the walls would be torn down it was left to anybody who has the inclination and the $6.99 to buy a can of spray paint, which by the looks of things appears mandatory to leave it behind when you are done. It was an interesting photo op, and I knew one that both Jenny and Billy would appreciate with their new cameras and for Jenny especially, the Instagram worthy pics!

From the top of the hill, we caught our first glimpse of the capitol building. It looked like quite the edifice from our perch and having heard so much about it, we decided to forgo the plan to Uber back to the hotel to drop off the records which were quite cumbersome and instead walk to the capitol building. We had a nice walk and actually came across our first batch of blue bonnets-so dainty and beautiful. I can only imagine what acres and acres of these azure beauties look like.

The ochre capitol building was really quite a sight, looking something like the nation’s capitol, though actually taller, but with Goddess of Liberty at the apex. We strolled along the grounds, through the park-like setting, admiring the various monuments and statues along the way before deciding it was getting late and we were getting hungry.

A quick review of Trip Advisor and we settled on a restaurant called Eureka, less than a block from the famous Driscoll Hotel. Lunch was quite good, in an industrialized space that seems to be ever popular nowadays. Following lunch, we decided to have dessert at Voodoo Doughnuts (located two doors down). VD is the legend, the shop that pretty much started the donut craze (sort of like the Sprinkles of cupcakes) and a shop Jenny and I have been waiting to try. We entered to find a hefty line but figured we would tough it out. Billy didn’t last long before he headed out the door as the line was about as slow as slow could be and at one point I finally texted Billy and told him to head to the hotel if he wanted and we would meet him there. He assured me he was fine; he was across the street at the Chuggin Monkey having a beer listening to some band killing their version of Dolly Parton’s Jolene-too too funny!

After 25 agonizing minutes, we finally made it to the cashier and ordered four donuts-Mexican chocolate, rainbow sprinkled, Captain Crunch, and the Voodoo Daddy (a donut shaped like a voodoo doll with chocolate frosting and jelly inside with a thin pretzel stick jabbed in its gut-nice!).

The donuts were actually quite good, with the preference going to the simpler of the four we tried. We ranked them third or fourth in our highly scientific, “Best Ever Donut Survey.” After our gluttony almost got the better of us, we went to fetch Billy at the Chuggin Monkey and head to the hotel. The band was ripping when we got there and they were every bit as good as Billy had assured me in his texts.

Of course the walk back included multiple stops for shopping-a very large Patagonia store and a killer Yeti store-with its own bar, were the highlights.

Upon dropping our bags, soothing Jenny’s blistered feet and allowing Billy a nap, we had little time before dinner (yes, another meal!). I left Jenny and Billy to finish their chilaxing and went down to the terrace that overlooks Lady Bird Lake to have a glass of wine and enjoy the absolutely postcard perfect weather Austin was having. After wandering the streets for near to five miles, the time sitting and watching all the kayakers, SUPers, and paddle boaters was enjoyable.

As time was now running short for our 6:15 reservation, we grabbed an electrified six seater golf cart that was out front waiting to take us the mile and a half to the restaurant. We laugh that we haven’t been that ripped off by a taxi since our cab ride in Portugal, and we speak the language-$20 plus tip (the return ride was $7 with Uber)!

Dinner was at a restaurant called Odd Duck, and how did we come up with this place? Well, there’s a story behind it: While waiting in line to buy some water and nuts at one of the kiosks at BWI, a young girl of say 16-18 years had two items. She asked the cashier how much the bag of peanut butter M&Ms were and upon hearing the exorbitant price, she stated she didn’t have enough money and so pushed them aside and paid for the bag of nuts. The gentleman standing in line behind her and in front of me, picked them up and told the cashier he would pay for them for her. The young girl turned and looked at him with an incredulous look, clearly astonished that a total stranger would shell out $8.00 for the snacks and wide-eyed said, “Really? Wow, thank you!” After she walked away I commented to him what a very nice gesture that was, to which he remarked, ”I like helping kids out.” I replied, “It all comes back around one day.” He shook his head and then said, “Yeah, I was poor once too…” When I made my way back to Jenny I told her the story, to which she was in awe I then pointed him out, because as it turned out he was on our flight.

Our numbers for lining up on Southwest were B35 and 36-not great and usually numbers that mean seats together will be found in the very back of the plane. As we boarded and started our way down the aisle, I saw a window and middle seat open at row 15, “Sorry, I’m with my family,” the woman stated. “Uh, yeah, me too,” I thought and refrained from shouting, “That’s not the way it works!” Row 19 the same set up, this time an elderly gentleman says, “This seat is taken for my wife,” pointing towards the door and some not even present on the airplane yet person. Moving along and growing quite irritated to Row 24, a middle and aisle, “My daughter is coming-she’s in the back of the line.” Right, so unfortunately that means she’s behind us and Southwest is an open seating policy…We move on. Row 26, a few from the back, there is the gentleman from earlier, seated on the aisle with the two adjacent seats open. I call to him, acknowledging him aloud to Jenny as, “That nice man that bought the M&Ms for the girl,” and almost imploring I ask, “Are those seats open?” “Of course,” he replies. “That’s twice in one day,” I tell him. “We just got turned down for seats from three other people. It’s gonna come back to you big time!” He was born and raised in Austin, heading home to his family and so I ask him his favorite dining place, “The Odd Duck,” he says, “The menu is a bit out there, but it all works.”

So that is how we end up dining at the Odd Duck and the food? It was delicious our favorites were the jerk quail, redfish ceviche, and the wagyu beef with mushroom croquettes, and the frozen lime margaritas made with mezcal and chiles! So the kind man, I never did get his name, did right by us-twice!

Our first day in Austin was a great success. We only stayed in the downtown area but enjoyed ourselves, as always. We contemplated renting a car tomorrow to go to the hill country but we haven’t even set foot in the ultra hip SoCo neighborhood of Austin, so that’s the plan tomorrow.

March 30, 2018

Today was a very late start-we didn’t make it out the door until 10:30, even though we were all asleep by 9:00 last night. Jenny chose the breakfast spot this morning-Blenders and Bowls, the top spot in Austin to get an Açaí bowl. The bowls were delicious, topped with fresh berries, honey and hemp granola and almost as good as the ones we had for breakfast every morning when we were in LA!

Since the restaurant was on same side of the river that we were on yesterday, and not the side we were exploring today, we decided to take an uber down to the far end of Congress Street and walk back, shopping and eating to our hotel.

Congress Street was hopping by the time we started around 11:30, with people already queued up twenty deep at some of the restaurants. Congress street has a good mix of shops on it, all independent boutiques, many carrying some locally crafted items, and Jenny thought it reminded her of Melrose Ave in Los Angeles but it is nowhere as gritty. I was actually surprised how clean Austin is and how very few homeless people we have seen. Actually, everything about Austin has been surprisingly pleasant. We were all surprised at how green and lush it is. From our ninth floor windows looking out over the verdant rolling hills one could mistake it for New England somewhere. So completely different than the parched landscape of the panhandle, and the area around Dallas.

Upon exiting one of the stores we heard what sounded like a marching band and turned to see two giant bunnies marching down the sidewalk with the band following and a plethora of dogs, many decked out in costumes with coordinated owners. There was a chow dressed as Paddington bear, a bulldog as Slash from Guns N’ Roses, a golden retriever as a lion, a Fench bulldog as Superman and the best of all was the cart with a pair of chihuahuas dressed as WWF wrestlers and their matching owner, oh and miniature horses in costume as well-too funny!

We had planned on having lunch at one of the many food trucks but none of the ones we saw jumped out at us. Then we saw Guero’s Tacos which had been recommended to us but the wait was upwards of half an hour so we settled for lunch at the Standard Cafe (turned out to be more a brunch menu) but was very good nonetheless.

Jenny had read about a donut place that she thought we should go try after lunch so we headed that way. We really enjoyed the walk through this neighborhood west of Congress. The homes were a mixture of arts and crafts bungalows, Victorian, modern, and a few homes that looked like perhaps the same people were still living in them that lived there 50 years ago-a true gem of an area!

The donut place was an old airstream that has been parked in a lot, next to a taco trailer (why didn’t we know about this before?), set up with picnic tables and umbrellas, with lights hanging above-so cute and so Austin. The donut menu was extensive, about 20 to chose from, and all were made to order. So I don’t think I can accurately explain how absolutely sinfully decadent these donuts were, unlike any we have ever had, and they easily knocked Voodoo out of contention for top three and may almost be the best ever-they were that off the charts! I am not even too sure of the ones we ordered but man oh man…heaven on earth!

Of course, we were now stuffed (I was feeling very grateful that I had had a cabbage salad for lunch), but we managed to continue our now slow, waddle back to the hotel.

We stopped at Allen’s boots, one of the most famous booteries in Austin. I just love the smell of leather and wow, was the inventory impressive, as Jenny said, “It certainly blows Allred’s away.”

A few more stops and before we knew it we were back at the hotel. Everyone was ready to take some time off our feet, in some AC, and I had been wrangling with a pounding headache following breakfast, that nothing I took seemed to ease the pain of.

We had been in Texas and had yet to eat Tex-Mex or BBQ, so after some discussion we decided it had to be BBQ for dinner. Franklins has been suggested but they don’t do dinner, so we relied on Trip Advisor to help us out. Black’s BBQ was about half mile away, good solid reviews but didn’t take reservations so figuring we could beat the crowds we headed out but with an initial stop at the Yeti Bar.

Our plan was a good one, but we weren’t the only ones thinking that. When we arrived there was already a queue but since we were there we sent Jenny to grab us a table and we grabbed two beers and waited in line. The restaurant serves cafeteria style, and while the process is a bit slow, it works.

While waiting in line, a younger guy asked Billy if he fishes (I guess the Patagonia fish baseball cap and fly fishing shirt was a bit obvious). One thing led to another and Billy finds out the guy is from Baltimore and of course the inevitable question of where he went to school came up, with the obvious answer of…Gilman. So of course the next logical question to follow was,”Who was your fourth grade teacher?” And while this guy had only attended Gilman for high school, when Billy told him he was Bill Merrick’s son, his response was, “Mr. Merrick is a legend.” I swear we can’t go anywhere without running into someone from Gilman. So much so that when we got to the table finally I said to Jenny, “Guess what just happened?” and her response,”You met someone from Gilman!”

We enjoyed the walk back along the river stopping to pay homage, this time, to Stevie Ray Vaughn. There was a music festival going on riverside so we danced down the trail on our way to our final stop-the Congress Street Bridge.

The Congress Street Bridge is home to one of the world’s great natural spectacles occurring every dusk from March thru October-1.5 million Mexican free-tailed bats leaving their roost for the evening. We, and a thousand or so other people, watched in awe as these little guys took flight for the night. After about fifteen minutes we called it quits, even though they were still emerging. It is really quite a sight, akin to the swallows returning to their roost on Great Island in the CT River. There is nothing like nature to put on an incredible show!

March 6, 2018

“Unexpected Happenings Bring Unexpected Surprises”

It is always a lesson in flexibility and a challenge to one’s sanity when trying to travel out of New England during the winter, within the constraints of school holidays. Of course, this winter has proven no different. Jenny and I were scheduled to leave for Jacksonville (our gateway to Savannah) on Wednesday afternoon after the school day was over. She was to miss a half day of school on Thursday and that was it. Well, Monday morning we woke up to the news freaking out about the newest nor’easter that would be arriving, dumping up to a foot of snow with the heaviest arriving at, you guessed it, our scheduled departure time. With the apartment already paid for, Mimi scheduled to join us, no other weekends in the foreseeable future to reschedule to, and Southwest basically saying we should reschedule, we did. Unfortunately, the afternoon flight on Tuesday was not available and so it left us with little option than to either cancel on Mimi with no idea when we would see her again and forfeit all our prepaid expenses (I always buy travel insurance for our international trips but hadn’t even thought to do so for this one) or to gamble that the weatherman was actually correct and Jenny would have no school on Wednesday or Thursday due to the snow, leaving her with only one day missed. I took the gamble as even if Essex didn’t get the snow hyped, Hartford was pretty much certain too which would leave us without our flight to Savannah. So far, gamble paid off…snow day Wednesday

I had little time to try and rebook flights, cancel and rebook car reservations, airport hotels, try to add a night to our airbnb and figure out an itinerary for our new found extra day and a half. Once I completed rebooking most of the aforementioned, we set off for Florida, leaving our house at 5:50 in the morning. We landed in Jacksonville at 1:20 and headed for the rental car counter. After having been forced to choose a minivan in my last minute rebooking, we were happy to talk the counter agent into letting us choose a different model for our trip; a sleek Nissan Sentra (or something similar-I don’t really know). We exited the airport and made a beeline for I-95 South (yes south, the opposite direction of Savannah) towards Ormond Beach, our first stop for the day.

Why Ormond Beach you ask, when our trip was to see the sights of Savannah? Well, last month I unexpectedly received an email from a gentleman who is a journalist at the Daytona Beach News-Journal. He found me through my ancestry.com family tree, after looking up my second great grandfather, Florian Alexander Mann,. Florian was the founder of the Halifax Journal, the newspaper that was the precursor to the present day Daytona Beach N-J. The journalist, aka Mark was wondering if he could use the pictures of Florian I had posted and asked if I would consider contacting him. After lengthy discussions with him and subsequently the Halifax Historical Society, scanning and then sending additional photos I had of Ormond Beach taken in the late 1800s, the area had been on my mind.

Ormond is just north of Daytona, sitting along the intercostal waterway, a part of the Halifax River at that point; 75 miles to the south of Jacksonville. Our initial stop was Pinecrest Cemetery, just north of Daytona. The recent discussions and reviewing of my ancestry table had reminded me that I had relatives buried there. We pulled into town and thought perhaps it was a bit of a rough neighborhood as we passed lots of bikers and loads of bars. It wasn’t until we turned down Main Street that we figured out that there was a Harley Davidson rally taking place. Luck was on our side today (both the good and the bad); the good-there was a parking spot right in front of the cemetery entrance, the only parking spot we saw; the bad luck-it was a spot about two feet longer than the length of our car, with a stack of barricades to the front of it and a row of about 20 highly-coveted Harelys lined up behind it AND the owners of all those Harleys were seated directly across the street on the outside patios, drinking beer and looking directly at me. No pressure! Confident in my abilities of parallel parking (I grew up in LA after all),  I put the car in reverse as Jenny hashed out the escape plan should all this motorcycles fall like dominoes. It was a good one but something tells me, we would not have made it very far! Mission accomplished; I turned to the bars and saw that literally everyone had stopped and watched me park. I opened the door, stood up and gave big thumbs up and a smile to match to everybody watching, only to receive slight nods in return-come on guys how about a little something for the effort or at least the balls it took trying!

The row of Harley’s behind me!

Pinecrest Cemetery is the oldest burial ground in Ormond. I am sure It was lovely at one time with its enormous live oaks and palms, but everything was a little dried up and there was quite a bit of rubbish lying around (it turned out that this was a bit of a derelict area).

Once in the cemetery, I realized there was no information office to help in locating the gravesites we were looking for. The good news was the cemetery wasn’t really that big so we systematically made our way around until Eureka! (of course it was almost towards the very end). There were the graves of my 2nd and 3rd great grandmothers, two  2nd great aunts along with their husbands and children. Just this summer, I found a photo of my 3rd great grandmother and now I was standing at her final resting place, though it really isn’t very restful along the edge of the fence with all the cars zooming past.

Thirty five minutes later, we hopped into the car-I waved goodbye to my new found friends, they simply nodded in return, I wished I had had the gumption to peel out just to have a good laugh, but alas, I was not that brave!

Our next stop was a drive through Tomoka State Park, along the Halifax River. Back at the airport in Hartford, I emailed Mark and asked him if he could tell me where he thought some of those 1880s photos were taken. He suggested that they looked as though they were near to present day Tomoka State Park along the Halifax River.

Along the drive, Jenny and I marveled at the changing landscape and just how beautiful and almost mysterious like it was. We marveled how driving down I95, which was only about 2 miles to the west, one would never know that this sort of landscape was actually in Florida. It was truly beautiful with all of the palmettos, palms, and live oaks with their draping Spanish Moss forming thick walls on either side of the road and a heavy canopy overhead.

The word Tomoka had been resonating in my mind since I read Mark’s email; for some reason I knew that word had some association with one of my second great aunts (Florian’s daughters). When we pulled up to the gate at Tomoka State Park, the ranger told us where to go and said at the end of the road there was a statue of Chief Tomokie where we could park and walk. We were running short on time (daylight hours really), so I told Jenny we would just drive through the park, but as we were driving the word statue kept coming into play with the the word Tomoka in my head. The drive through the park, along the white sandy roads and the same mysterious flora was beautiful, Jenny kept hoping we would see an armadillo, while I was hoping for a bear. We arrived at the ridiculously large statue and I noticed there was a plaque so I told Jenny to hang on while I went and read it because I was sure that was the connection I was trying to establish. Alas, no mention on it of any family members, just the name of the artist and the donors. Still, I was certain that there was something there.

Statue-for perspective the fence around the base is about four feet tall.

Jenny and I decided to take the scenic drive back up to St. Augustine, where I had decided we would stay for the night and so we followed the route suggested by Mark. It was extraordinary lovely, winding through marshes and along river ways, following the Ormond Scenic Bird Watching Route (shout out to you Dickie-you should do it sometime). watching people fish and kayak and just enjoying the beautiful day.  The road eventually ended up following the coastal route along the rugged Atlantic coast right up through various small beach oriented towns eventually ending up in the heart of St Augustine’s historical district. It was at this point that I decided that maybe we should figure out where we would be sleeping for the night (up to this point I had not had an opportunity to secure a room for us for this evening). I asked Jenny to check Trip Advisor and when a room showed up at the Marriott, I gave them a call and was able to book us in at a somewhat discounted, last-minute rate-phew! Sleeping in a minivan would have been one thing, but the Nissan Sentra…I don’t think so!

Upon entering St Augustine we were taken by the sudden transition of funky beachy encapments to a compact urban area, dominated by Spanish style architecture. Heading down the main road into town, standing before us was a beautiful sprawling edifice built in what one, today, would consider the old Hollywood style (but really I think Hollywood copied it from this). It was built in a manner that pointed to you, beckoning you to investigate its origins and purpose. Even in the fading light, we could make out the burnt orange stucco exterior, Spanish tile roof, towering spires, formal gardens, and looming bell towers. Jenny immediately recognized it as Flagler College and after quickly agreeing with her we both stated aloud how absolutely remarkable it was!

I couldn’t get the car parked and us checked in quick enough to start exploring this intriguing area. Both were quick and easy and upon checkin were offered a free appetizer in the bar. Gladly aking them up on their offer, Jenny was tickled to death to see they had beef carpaccio as an option and I was tickled to death to see that they offered a Provencal rosè!

Dinner, we decide would be less formal and so I left it up to Jenny to find us a place. After a quick scouring of Yelp, she suggested a place called Prohibition Kitchen that was currently receiving rave reviews. We headed out from the hotel into the now darkened streets and commented on how quaint the area seemed. We reached the intersection of St George Street, and were just about to turn when a sign and then its accompanying building caught my eye; Trinity Episcopal Church. I stood staring at it for a minute, wracking my brain trying to place it, when I finally recalled that my great uncle had been married in this church and I had recently (in searching through photos for Mark) had come across a picture he had sent to his parents with the wedding inscription on the back.

After snapping a few photos, Jenny and I continued on to the restaurant where we proceeded to have a delicious dinner, in a warehouse style space whose character was oozing from its floorboards, accompanied by a wonderful folksy trio playing on stage and fantastic food…que bueno! (remember St Augustine was founded by the Spaniards after all!). While we lingered over a decadent cookies in cream milkshake for dessert, Jenny suggested that we should take a tour of the college campus tomorrow-a prospective student one versus one designed for those merely interested in its history and architecture. A great idea I thought, especially to use for comparison sake to the four other colleges we have already toured.

Upon returning to the hotel, I still could not shake the feeling I had concerning one of my second great aunts and Tomoka. I pulled out my computer and starting Googling the names of my aunts and Tomoka until BINGO, I got the hit I was looking for. One of my 2nd great aunts had written a book entitled, “Florida Under Four Flags,” apparently it was part of the inspiration for  the artist’s massive sculpural undertaking. Thank God for Google, otherwise I would have hardly slept a wink!

For a totally unplanned and unexpected day, Jenny and I had a lot of fun. Billy had decided earlier on that he was not going to join us on this trip and with all the changes and hassles, it probably worked out for the best that he didn’t, though we once again missed him on one of our adventures. As of this writing, he is home with our four-legged girls riding out the nor’easter, and once again (only four days later) without power!

March 7, 2018

“Ticks Can Actually Be a Good Thing”

With a 9:15 college tour start time, Jenny and I were up and out the door by 8:00, headed to a breakfast place Jenny had found on line. Breakfast is Jenny’s favorite meal to eat out, so she always likes finding restaurants that are highly rated. Maple Street Biscuit Company was just a few doors down from our starting location and directly across the street from Flagler. As one could imagine from the name, the menu is heavily centered on biscuits, in fact all of their menu items come on top of their homemade flaky disks. Jenny ordered one with pecan smoked bacon, cheese and egg with a side of sausage gravy and I had one with a fried goat cheese medallion, and chicken smothered in a house made pepper jelly-both knock your socks off delicious! One thing we loved about the restaurant was the way they let you know your order was up. Each day, they have a new question they ask and your answer is what they holler out to let you know your order is ready. Today’s question was, “What one thing would you take with you if you were stranded on a desert island?” Not realizing I was answering for both of us, I responded quickly with, “A bottle of wine.” Needless to say Jenny was not amused, but the others diners certainly were when the kitchen called out, “Order up for a bottle of wine!” Hey, I certainly thought it was better than the other answers we heard called out-“Biscuits” (OK kiss asses) and “Computer” (really?).

Last night when we pulled in and Jenny immediately recognized the building as Flagler College I wasn’t surprised by that (though Billy said he had never even heard of it before). Flagler is consistently rated as one of the top three most beautiful college campuses in the world by various publications. High on Jenny’s priority list for where she will attend college is that it must be aesthetically pleasing, so she had seen it many times before during her searches for the most beautiful college campuses. However, she had never considered it because it was below the Mason-Dixon Line (and that is really more the defining line of the extreme heat she wants to avoid, more than anything else).

We met with the admissions counselor who went over the basics with Jenny, via a slide show presentation; and so the boxes began being ticked: average incoming freshman GPA and SAT scores-tick, 20% of the student body volunteers in the community (many with local animal shelters)-tick, international studies majors are required to do a study abroad program-tick, gap years are recognized-tick, time should be enjoyed going to the beach and surfing, versus trying to overload yourself with academics-tick! After about a half hour with the admissions counselor, we met up with our student tour ambassador, Dominique (ironic right), to start the tour of the campus.

Flagler College began its life as the Ponce de Leon Hotel, really a resort, built in the Spanish Renaissance style in 1885 by Henry Flagler, a railroad magnate. Since it began its life as a resort, it was built to the finest standards and luxuries so one can imagine how lovely it must be on the inside, however we were not prepared.

As we walked from the meeting place to the back side of the main campus building, we came into the area where the students hang out the most. A beautiful outside area with seating and courtyards, grassy areas and a beautiful gazebo with tall palm trees and flower gardens-tick. Dominique was telling us that this is where they do the de-stressing days before exam week-they set up bounce houses, bring in therapy dogs, have yoga activities, etc-tick! We looked in on the art studios, science labs, mailroom, medical clinic, etc. Dominique told us how the professors are awesome, that they all want you to succeed, their doors are mandated to be open for at least two hours every day for students to call on them, many usually give out their numbers so you can contact them if you are having a hard time with material and most give you bonuses on assignments for going to the Student Resource Center to have your work checked and get some extra help before turning in your assignments-tick, tick, tick!

We then headed into the building that houses the freshman girls dorms and the dining hall-as I said, we were not prepared. The doors open up onto a four story rotunda, marble floors, and mural painted ceilings by known artists. There was a grand central staircase that lead to a landing with another set of staircases going off to either side leading up to the dorms. Straight ahead was the dining hall a room straight out of a Harry Potter set with its Tiffany windows, soaring ceiling and selection of foods that seems to satisfy every craving. Oh and you can dine there without any limits-tick, tick and tick again! It was truly spectacular!

The last area we saw was where they have beach volleyball, the swimming pool (strictly for recreational use), gym and the student center with its Chick-fil-a and Starbucks-tick, tick tick! Oh and Dominique thinks they have a sailing club but if not, no problem, you only need six people to start a club-tick!

It was a highly unexpected and very successful tour. I think it could be a top contender…Mason-Dixon Line be damned!

After our tour, we walked around the town some more to get a better feeling for it. The one concern Jenny has, is that it is very touristy, but it is charming and there are fabulous restaurants, great music venues, and cute shops. For being the oldest town in America, it has held up just fine. We stopped in the college store to get a sweatshirt-I told Jenny she has to get a piece of clothing from each college we visit that she thinks may have potential, and after hearing back from the colleges and she makes her decision, she has to let us know by coming downstairs wearing the clothing from the college she chooses. The girl working there was so nice, a student at Flagler, and added great tidbits of information to what we had already learned. If everyone is as nice as the people we have met today, it is one more box-tick!

Lunch was at a restaurant suggested by the counselor and he did all right by us. The food was awesome. Jenny said it was the best salad she has ever eaten, a cornbread panzanella, while my jar of pickled Florida shrimp was equally as tasty! Over lunch Jenny mentioned how odd it was that had we not changed our plans for the snowstorm, we would not have come to St. Augustine and she would never have toured Flagler because it was off her radar. Things happen for a reason, I told her.

Before leaving town, I wanted to stop by the Cathedral to light a candle for my father and stop by the little Episcopal church we saw last night because in thinking about it last evening, I came to remember that not only was my 2nd great Uncle married there, but my great grandparents were too in 1900!

(Top two photos are the cathedral, the bottom is the inside of the little church)

Our drive up to Savannah was pretty uneventful. I had originally planned on driving to Jekyll Island and Sea Island to show Jenny where we had spent some time with Billy’s grandmother Bru, for two lovely March vacations but we didn’t have time.

We pulled into Savannah, unloaded, and moved in to the airbnb that would be our home for the next four nights. I had had a few concerns about it just from the photos that were on line but more from the lack of reviews it had, but it turned out to be fantastic. It is located in the old YWCA building, with the original basketball court floors. It is an awesome two bedroom two bathroom apartment, charmingly decorated with old lockers as a nod to its previous life, and a completely modern kitchen. A true find and a steal for what we would have paid for a hotel room. We really love it!

As Mimi had gotten up very early to catch her flight here and Jenny and I had had a full day, we opted for something quick and totally casual for dinner-The Flying Monk Noodle Bar. Dinner was a score as all of our meals were excellent-pho and a fresh coconut to drink for Jenny, Vietnamese spicy lemongrass beef over noodles for me, and a duck noodle soup for Mimi.

Of course no evening dining out would be complete without having dessert. Jenny found the place, FreezN, an ice cream parlor that starts with fresh cream, you choose the additions and then it is frozen on the spot with liquid nitrogen. The ice cream man removed his twenty or so rings before beginning the process, “just in case” he said!

It’s so fun to be having a girl’s getaway weekend with Mimi. We are looking forward to tomorrow, to walk, explore and enjoy the city, and spending time in each other’s company.

And just an update for those who have been asking. The linemen came and cleared the trees on other side of our driveway, opening the road and assuring that the lines were now dead. Billy can now get out of the house. They did not do anything to restore the power as of yet. Some power has begun to be restored in our town and the neighboring towns but they are saying to expect it to be at least a few more days!

And I guess you can assume, the flight Jenny and I were originally scheduled to take on Wednesday afternoon was cancelled. There was no school Wednesday or Thursday, so it looks like my gamble paid off; now let’s just hope that she is not going to be in school until the end of June!

March 8, 2018

“Ticks Can Be Good, Chiggers Are Not”

We started off late this morning because I thought it best to let Jenny catch up on some sleep and figured Michelle would wake up when it felt right for her, that meant we weren’t out the door until almost 10:00. Walking outside was a bit of a surprise as it was cold and very blustery (I find it hard to complain too much considering what the weather is like back home and knowing my poor husband is sitting in a house with no heat-and I hope to God not burst pipes too).

I was thankful that I had the right clothes for it as we walked along and watched the tour group kids shivering in their shorts. Last night Jenny had seen a donut shop across the street from where we had dinner, so we headed there in hopes of finding feathery pillows of deliciousness. Instead, the donuts were just ok, not bad but nothing I would rush back for and blow my caloric limit on.

We decided since it was so windy that we would walk in the opposite direction of the river, towards Forsyth Park to see the squares and admire the historic homes, that Savannah is famous for. Savannah has 22 squares, each one named for a historical person or event and many containing monuments or plaques to such. The first four squares were created in 1733 by John Oglethorpe, the same year he founded Savannah and the Georgia colony. The squares are all lovely with their monolithic live oaks, whose branches reach out to the farthest corners of the square, all dripping with greenish grey Spanish moss, rhododendrons bursting in pinks, whites, fuchsias and reds, white dogwoods in full bloom, and American pink buds with their oh so dainty flowers. Add in the dappled sunlight and it all makes for a surreal scene that exudes elegance.

I had wanted to do a house tour and the first one we came upon was the Green-Meldrim House. It was absolutely lovely on the outside, with its formal English style gardens, large front covered piazza, and wrought iron work. It is considered one of the finest examples of Gothic Revival architecture in the South. It was constructed in the 1850s for Charles Green, a cotton merchant and ship builder. Upon entering, it was really what you would have expected to see in a house of that time-simply lovely. One of the most interesting features of the house we thought was its entry way and its three sets of doors. The outside front doors opened inward and folded into a recession to create two closets. one on either side. There were then two pairs of pocket doors, one set glass the other louvres that could be pulled out depending on the time of year-really very ingenious!

The tour guide for downstairs was a rather snippy older woman with a wandering left eye, who threatened to flush Jenny’s phone down the “commode” if it made a noise (Jenny was merely holding it in her hand because she had no purse or pockets) and when I asked about whether the furnishing were original, I was told to not jump ahead of the tour, alrighty then, is this the Southern charm I keep hearing so much about?!? The tour guide for upstairs was a cute older woman who was very much interested in the furniture of the home. The one really cool thing we did get to see and look at (it was only us on the tour) was a stereoptican It came with the viewing glasses and various cards that would make the pictures jump out in 3D (basically the original View Master toy). It was quite fun to see that as the view master was one of my favorite toys when I was a child.

The tour was really just ok, run by parishioners of the church next door that now owns the home and uses it for various functions, including weddings and funeral receptions. It missed the majority of the history of the people who lived there, both the owners and the servants. The one interesting fact that was relayed was that during the Civil War, Mr. Green, afraid of having his house burned to the ground during Sherman’s March to the Sea, invited him to come and use the house as his headquarters. It was in this house that Sherman wrote and sent a telegram to Lincoln offering him all of the guns, ammunition and cotton in Savannah, as well as the city itself, as a Christmas gift.

After the tour we decided to grab some lunch and went for a place I had read about on various forums and blogs, that everyone seemed to love. It was not really the sort of place we usually enjoy (Jenny laughed because she said Robert Irvine from “Restaurant Impossible” would have been all over them for having carpeting on their floors-I agree-yuck!) and the food was only mediocre at best, even my fried green tomatoes were really ho-hum. We decided that Jenny does a much better job at finding restaurants than I do so I have put her in charge of our meals!

Following lunch, we walked down to the famed Forsyth Park, a sprawling park at the bottom of the historic district. Similar to many of the squares, but with an enormous fountain as you enter, it was a nice break where we relaxed and enjoyed the sunshine.

At one point, I pulled some Spanish moss from one of the trees and clowning around I draped it like hair over my head. I then placed it on Jenny’s head and was busy snapping photos when something in the back of my head dawned on me that we shouldn’t be doing that. Was the stuff poisonous? No that’s mistletoe. But what? At that moment a college age kid was walking by looking at us. I stopped him and asked, “We shouldn’t be doing that should we?” He looked at me, took his ear buds out and said, “I’m sorry what?” I repeated my question to which he answered, “Oh yeah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, there’s chiggers in the moss.” Jenny swung her head around and looked at me and adamantly asked me, “What are chiggers?” I sheepishly replied, “They are little bugs.” and the kid, he replied, “Yep, and they itch like hell!” I probably do not need to describe what followed, but we had a good laugh, in between itching our heads (oh the power of suggestion)!

We wound our back toward the river, zig zagging up and down quiet residential streets whose homes were lined up in perfect symmetry, each mirroring its neighbor in design and architecture, their American flags proudly displayed in unison. Overhead the canopy of live oaks was so thick that so little sun shown on the streets that the flickering lights of that replica gas light sconces on either side of the front doors, were visible as though it were evening.

We eventually came upon Lafayette Square and the adjacent Cathedral of St John the Baptist, done in French Gothic style with twin soaring spires that Jenny said were almost cartoonish in appearance. The cathedral was rebuilt in 1900, after a fire swept through the original 1870 church. Upon entering the first thing you come upon is the 8,000 pound, octagonal baptismal font, with small fountains flowing from each angle and a green and gold Celtic knot tiled on the floor of it, a nod to Savannah’s large Irish population. The cathedral wss very impressive and after lighting a candle for my dad, we headed out.

We returned to the apartment for showers and an hours rest before we were going to head out for dinner. I had reservations at one of Savannah’s best restaurants, the Olde Pink House, but I think we were all a bit tired and no one felt like having a more formal meal. We decided that dinner last night was so delicious, that we would go back for another round of noodles.

Dinner was delicious again and of course Jenny had another place in mind for dessert, another ice cream place but this time they pour the cream onto a frozen slab, cut in the additional ingredients and then use what looks like a wide putty knife to scrape it off of the slabs into cigar rolls of ice cream-unique and delicious! We enjoyed our walk back to the apartment, happily munching on our ice cream amidst the lights of the truly beautiful city of Savannah.

March 9, 2018

“Our Kind of Day”

This morning we decided that we needed a breakfast with a little more sustenance in it then a donut. We have walked past a restaurant two blocks from our apartment a few times that looked charming so we decided to go there. The menu at Collin’s Corner was exactly what we were looking for, with varied dishes and a long list of morning beverages. The place was packed and clearly a favorite of locals and tourists alike. Michelle ordered avocado toast and a vanilla latte, Jenny and I decided to split avocado toast and eggs benedict, her having a turmeric and ginger latte and me a matcha latte. All were fabulous-I actually completely cleaned my plate!

In reading up about things to do and see in Savannah, I came across the historic Harper-Fowlkes House which is now the headquarters of the Society of the Cincinnati in the state of Georgia, an organization that Billy is a member of. Mimi and Jenny were game to join me on another tour and since it was only a few blocks from the apartment, we headed over there. First impressions were how strikingly large, the Greek Revival style home was, with immense double-story columns and a curved staircase to the front door. Upon entering, we were escorted to the backyard to wait for the next tour begin. It was a lovely bricked yard with a fountain that had the Society’s eagle as it’s centerpiece. We had a nice chat with another couple from Connecticut and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on another chilly morning.

Our tour guide met us a short time later and began explaining how after the depression so many of Savannah’s old homes were neglected and then torn down, and how afterwards the beginnings of “progress” happened and such things as putting parking structures up over the squares began to take place until a few women banded together to put it a stop to it-thank goodness.

Inside the house, the main entry hall has one of the highlights and most unique features of the home, an elliptical opening that runs up three floors where a cupola was eventually added that brings light down through it. Our tour guide was an older gentleman who has an interest in history and did a wonderful job bringing the families that lived there to life. The story of the families, but most importantly the lady who would eventually donate the home to the Society, were fascinating. Alida Harper-Fowlkes was an early pioneer in the preservation of some of Savannah’s most important homes. She was a visionary before anyone else; saving ten homes from the “progress” that was happening at the time. She never had any children and upon her death left her home and everything in it to the Society with the stipulation that it may never be sold. We all thoroughly enjoyed the tour and felt like he we learned some additional things about Savannah.

After leaving the Harper-Folkes House we headed towards the Savannah River and the area we hadn’t covered yet. Walking along the streets we enjoyed all of the new squares we passed, the boutiques, restaurants and colorful characters along the way. We stopped at the famous Byrd cookie company, having been doing business in Savannah since 1924, but we weren’t overly taken by the half dollar size too-crunchy cookies.

As we neared the river, we could see that Savannah actually lies above the river on a bluff, sort of like the city of Santa Monica. The riverfront below is still with cobblestone streets and trolley tracks and the huge warehouses that have been converted into shops and restaurants. The steps down were marked as historic, and we were advised to use them at our own risk (they were incredibly steep). Jenny and I remarked on how different the Savannah River looked than the Mississippi as far as color, it wasn’t the same chocolate milk color however the amount of industry on it was impressive. We are so lucky and thankful that the Connecticut River, as large as it is, has no industrialization on it.

The walk along the riverfront promenade was enjoyable, especially as the sun was out warming us and offsetting the chilly wind that was blowing. We laughed as we came upon a fountain whose waters had been dyed green in honor of the upcoming St. Patrick’s day celebration. Have I mentioned that Savannah has a huge Irish population? It finally made sense all the Irish flags that we have seen!

Climbing back up the steps, and turning back towards the apartment, we came upon the Old Pink House restaurant, the restaurant we had cancelled dinner at last night. This morning during our tour, we learned that the Old Pink House, was not only one of the buildings but also one of the businesses, Alida Harper-Fowles had actually saved and operated. Curiosity got the better of us so we decided to go in and see if we could sit and get a cup of coffee. We were shown to the tavern where we enjoyed a rest and a refreshment before continuing on our way. Both he building and restaurant, by the way, were elegant.

Yesterday, we missed a few stores that I had meant to stop at when we were in the south end of the historic district, places I knew Jenny would want to see, so we decided we would go back there. It took a little extra effort since we had already covered this ground previously, but we were enjoying each other’s company, the sunshine, and the beautiful scenery along the way. As we were walking along, Jenny all of a sudden stops and in a voice of pure surprise says, “Oh my goodness.“ When I ask her what it is she is talking about she says, “Look down.” There at her feet, inscribed in the concrete was the word CHEECH, my nickname for her…

Our first missed stop was the SCAD store (SCAD stands for Savannah College of Art and Design). This is a shop that sells pieces from all fields of art of current students and alumni. There were some very unique pieces and both Michelle and I bought a little something, but the store I knew for sure that Jenny would love was V and J antiques, a store dedicated to antique prints and maps. Located in the basement of one of the beautiful brick homes, it was a small store but oh wow, was it packed! The maps were divided up into cities, states, regions, countries, etc, thankfully, so it was easier searching for specific ones that Jenny was after. She and I had a ball and Mimi seemed to enjoy it as well, helping us in our search for specific places. Really we could have spent hours in there-it was that awesome, but we spent maybe an hour and left with a small collection.

Happy with our newly acquired bounty, we turned around and headed back to the apartment to clean up before dinner. Our breakfasts were so good this morning that we decided on having dinner there tonight. Our meals were a solid good, Mimi and I both having duck and Jenny having roast chicken-clearly their strong point is breakfast/brunch but nonetheless we once again, enjoyed our evening together laughing and taking about all the places in the world, and in our own country, we still want to go. It is so nice that Mimi fits in so well with Jenny and I. It is always easy with her, never contrived.

A day filled with delicious food, beautiful scenery, interesting history, good friends, perfect weather, belly aching laughs, and a treasure trove of maps-WOW! What more could you ask for. Today was our kind of day!

March 10, 2018

“Two Wise Men”

Perhaps we were lacking originality or perhaps we felt our breakfast yesterday was so darn delicious, but we ended up at the same place again for breakfast but this time there was a short wait when we arrived, so we gave the hostess my cell number and walked over to Wright Square to await a text from the restaurant.

As we entered the square, I heard a man singing, in a deep deep bass voice, singing something that sounded like a church hymn. While Jenny and Mimi went and sat on a bench, I walked over to hear where the voice was coming from and there sitting on a bench, under one of the sprawling oak trees was a rather heavy set African-American man, missing a few of his teeth, burning incenses, weaving blades of sweetgrass into roses and singing his heart our for all to enjoy. He asked me where I came from, wanted to know why I had come to Savannah, how long I was staying and then he introduced himself. He told me his name was James, and he showed me the lanyard around his neck that was a license from the city to be a vendor, though it had expired at the end of last year. I read his name and announced back to him, “James Pringle, nice to meet you.” He responded by saying I said his name just like his teacher used to call it. He demonstrated to me how he weaved the roses, proud as a peacock that he could do it without even looking. He told me how he had learned from his mother and his grandmother, he was raised by them, because his father had left him when he was a boy and how he had cried so many times when he saw other boys in the neighborhood with their fathers, but he made it because he had two strong ladies. That his grandmother had always told him that if you do the right thing, good things will come to you. He also told me that he would like me to have the rose, no charge, but a small donation would be appreciated if I’d like, because that’s the way he easts and sleeps. He told me, “You see you can do anything you want to if you put your mind to it, you don’t need to get a gun and rob nobody. God gave us a mind.” I looked in his basket and saw only change plus one, one dollar bill. I took out a $5 and gave it to him. The text came through that our table was ready and so I told him I had to go and I went and got Jenny and Mimi but just as we were getting ready to cross the street, I quickly turned back around and ran back up to Mr. Pringle to say, “Thank you.”

Mr. Pringle reminded me of Ms. Betty Manigault, the lady we encountered weaving baskets on the street in Charleston. Both wise in ways that those born into privilege seldom can be, both having obviously lived lives that have been filled with hardship and pain, but both having the cheeriest attitudes and warmest demeanors I have yet to encounter in a stranger. It is meeting these people and the happenstance exchanges with them, that are truly the gifts of travel.

We had decided that today we were going to go outside of the city to get a better feel for the sea islands and the area and history encompassing them. Our first stop was Wormsloe State Historic Site, about 10 miles outside Savannah. Wormsloe was an estate built by Noble Jones, a man of varying occupations who arrived with James Oglethorpe in 1733. Today, the tabby walls (a type of concrete made with oyster shells), are all that is left of his original estate, and are the oldest standing structures in the Savannah area. The entry into the estate grounds is a site to behold, with over 400 live oaks lining the drive on either side. As Mimi said, the branches, outstretched from one side to the other look as though they are reaching to hold hands and in doing so, form a perfectly domed ceiling over the drive.

From there our next stop was going to be a cultural one of a different kind, Pin Point Heritage Museum. I had read numerous reviews on different sites about this place and had decided early on that we should see it. Pin Point is located on a marsh along the Moon River. It was founded in the 1890s by former slaves who had mostly come from Georgia’s Sea Islands. Since the area along the marshes were considered less desirable for development, freedmen were able to purchase property here at a fairly reasonable price. Today Pin Point is part of the congressionally designated Gullah/Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor, meant to help recognize and preserve the cultures and traditions of the Gullah/Geechee people, descendants of African slaves brought to the coast of Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas.

Pin Point had remained an outpost African American community, with one road in and one road out until 1926 when A.S. Varn built a crab and oyster processing plant there. Almost everyone in the community worked at the factory, in some form or another. Men harvested (oysters in the winter, blue crabs in the summer), women picked and processed, and even children did odd jobs. The work was tough but according to the employees, “Old man Varn was a good man.” The factory sustained the community for 65 years until it closed in 1985, leaving many unemployed for the first time in their lives, and with a deep sense of loss. Since then the community has struggled to retain its identity as it is the last community of slave descendants left living on a slice of Georgia coastline, all the other islands and coastal areas have been bought up by the wealthy and those historical communities have all but disappeared.

A tour of Pin Point can be done on your own or with a guide and with or without the 35 minute introductory documentary film. We decided to watch the documentary and then tour the buildings on our own reading the various placards and interactive displays.

The documentary was very enlightening, narrated by many current and former members of the community, including Chief Justice Clarence Thomas, who was born there and whose mother picked crab at the factory. The film explained how the Pin Point factory worked, and what the lives of the community members were like, as well as it touched on aspects of the Gullah/Geechee culture. It opened with a very memorable line from an elder community member, “Not knowing one’s own history is like trying to grow a tree without roots.” A wise man who understands that history, on so many different levels, is important…lest we forget.

Following the documentary, we toured the outbuildings including the crab boiling pavilion, pickling and cooling house, oyster factory and the deviled crab house.

The entire experience was as educational as I hoped it would be-for instance, do you know how much the shell of an oyster contributes to its weight? 80%. Do you know what the gullah word chillun means? children. Do you know what the name for the flat bottom boats are that they would use to harvest the crabs and oysters? bateaux.

We all really enjoyed this stop and it accomplished everything I hoped it would, and it certainly left us thinking…

We left from Pin Point to go and have some lunch and explore one of the nearby sea islands, Skidaway. It was not what I was expecting as the entire island is basically one gated community after another, pretty ironic after listening to the documentary about  the Pin Point community trying to hang on while the wealthy buy up all the coastline…

Private dock

We were very hungry by this time so we decided to grab some snacks from the grocery store and picnic in the only public place on the island, the Skidaway State Park. We paid our entrance fee, parked and began walking on the trail that the ranger said would be the best and most beautiful. It was one mile to the picnic tables where, she said, we would enjoy a riverside position seeing a multitude of shorebirds and dolphins. Well, I think she was a bit mistaken because the only thing we encountered were swarms of gnats which made eating rather difficult. The walk through the park, on the other hand, along the boardwalks and over the waterways was lovely and was worth the trek in.

We returned to the apartment with time to shower and decide on our restaurant for the evening. I had made reservations ahead of time at a very nice restaurant, but more recent reviews have said that the service was really lacking and dinners were taking forever to complete. With Mimi having a very early wake up call tomorrow and the fact she would be losing an hour of sleep, I thought we should skip it in favor of something that might suit our needs better. Mimi and I looked over a few menus on line and settled on a restaurant we had passed a few times and whose menu had something for all of us.

Chive was very swanky inside, a cross between a 70s nightclub and an ultra modern hipster hotel. We were all very excited with the menu and settled on our meals: for Jenny carpaccio (shocking, right?), tuna ceviche, and an arugula salad, mussels and crab salad for me and steamed clams and sashimi for Mimi. We had a good laugh about our meals though because five of the seven dishes, including the sashimi, incorporated grapes and strawberries (and they were never listed anywhere as any of the ingredients)-we decided there must have been a discount for buying them in bulk that week. Nevertheless, we enjoyed our meals and while I do not think we got back to the apartment any earlier than we would have if we had kept our original reservation, I know for sure that we enjoyed our meals more than we would have at the more formal place.

On the walk back to the apartment, Mimi said she was sad to be leaving us tomorrow, we couldn’t have agreed more. We always love spending time with her and we miss not seeing her as much as we used to. We all agreed that maybe this should be the beginning of a new tradition; we should do a girl’s weekend get away more often.

On a side note, it was difficult to remain having such a good time, knowing Billy and the dogs were home still with no power and freezing their butts off…sorry honey!

Don’t Do As The Fools Do

As part of our continued effort to see more of the United States, we planned a trip to the Big Easy, aka New Orleans. Billy was supposed to join us but unfortunately, he came home the night before departure sick as a dog.

Jenny and I arrived at 9:30 at night and with the darkness, we saw nothing of our surroundings. After checking in, I decided I would like a glass of wine but the bar in our hotel was closed so I was told to head to the Ritz Carlton which is attached to our hotel. As the elevator doors opened on the bar floor, it went from a stale silence to a definitive, unmistakable auricular confirmation of where I was! The brass band blasting was certainly as great a welcome wagon as the lab and pit bull that jump on me whenever I return from even the shortest of time away from home. The bar was hopping, with well dressed persons and an in–the-know clientele and while I certainly felt a bit foolish zigzagging my roller board through the crowds, I loved the jumping vibe of the place.

I had told Jenny breakfast was at 10:00, so there was some opportunity for her to sleep in in the morning. We were out the door by 9:45, with just the right amount of time to walk the eight blocks to Brennan’s. Brennan’s is a New Orleans institution-it ranks up there with Gallitores, Commanders Palace and Antoine’s. Jenny and I were showed to a lovely table where we proceeded to have a scrumptious breakfast-French press coffee along with Eggs Benedict for Jenny and for me a very decadent Eggs Soldour (creamed spinach topped with a slightly crunchy artichoke heart, topped with a poached egg and finished off with a creole hollandaise), with a delicious house made biscuit and jam for desert!

Following breakfast we began to make our way down the infamous Bourbon Street. I had decided that daytime hours would probably be the better choice of time to see it versus the evening hours. I certainly wasn’t interested in experiencing all the debauchery that is said to take place along this stretch of infamous roadway.

Bourbon street with all its glaring neon signs detract from any architectural prowess that the street might have so after a few blocks of walking the infamous street, we cut over to Royal street to continue our walking tour of the French Quarter.

Royal Street was more dignified and it was here that one really saw the architecture that this area is famous for. Many of the second floor apartments though had hanging baskets and railing boxes that were dead-kind of an odd sight. After a few blocks of it though, I realized it must have been from the unusual cold snap New Orleans experienced a few weeks back.

Before we left home, I had kept reading about all the different places you will see and hear street musicians and it was here, on Royale Street, that the encounters began. The first group was seven quasi hippies (four on brass, one on drums, one on strings and one bass) playing some upbeat jazz; a block later there was a father, mother and daughter (maybe 15) trio that were belting out some more lively jazz. A few more blocks and there was a duo playing hill billy country music-what? I think they missed their bus exit a few states north. They were really so out of place and clearly not as enjoyed by the passerby’s as there was but one small group of women listening and when I gave them a dollar, it was the only money in their tip bucket!

Jenny and I walked on, enjoying that the crowds of people had thinned out but in keeping aware of our surroundings there were still plenty of people about. It was fun to see so many buildings decorated up for Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday was three days ago), including the trees shining with their bounty of beads hanging.

Upon reaching Esplanade Avenue, I knew we didn’t want to cross over as this is the eastern edge of the French Quarter and the beginning of the Faubourg Marigny area, an area that though gentrifying, wasn’t advisable for us to walk into. When we turned down Esplanade at first glance it was a lovely street, with a beautiful center divider planted with native bayou plants but it quickly turned a bit dicey feeling-with the camps of homeless people, many of them young hippie types, set up everywhere. The good news is we were not alone as others were walking along too but I made a quick turn back into the French Quarter on Decatur and found ourselves at the beginning of the French Market.

The French Market is billed as one long flea market (though I would call it mostly tacky tourist crap) mixed with food stalls of the local sort. Here we came across the heaps of steamed shrimp and bushels of oysters that New Orleans is famous for-I told Jenny that dad would have been all over it as well as enjoyed the comical “motha shucker!”

We then happened upon the offices of the National Park Service’s headquarters for the New Orleans Jazz National Historical Park, and while I had forgotten to grab Jenny’s stamp book before we left, we went inside and stamped a sheet to add to our collection. We had just missed a group playing African drums inside but one of the ladies was still there and letting people know that we could hear the drums later at 3:00 at Congo Square in Louis Armstrong Park. She also issued a stern warning to us-make sure we don’t go down any dark roads, to stay with the masses of people-something else I had already read up on before we left home.

We continued on toward Jackson Square and the famed Café du Monde. Though neither of us were very hungry, upon arrival, Jenny and I took our place in line to get a seat and try some of their world famous beignets. We were definitely fuller than we had realized because neither of us could finish our pillows of fried dough dusted (smothered really) with powdered sugar. It is definitely something you do not want to eat if you are wearing black. It also stood to reason with the piles of white powder that was present at every table’s feet, why we saw shops with signs that said, “No eating beignets inside.” The verdict-we thought them just OK, we much preferred the ones we had at The Beachcomber in Crystal Cove, CA.

After our quick stop at Café du Monde we walked up to an overlook that looked out to the mighty milk chocolate Mississippi on one side and St. Louis Cathedral and Jackson Square on the other side. There was a nice breeze that we both enjoyed as when the sun poked out from behind the clouds it was hot.

Jenny and I headed towards St. Louis Cathedral, walking around Jackson Square admiring all the artists that have their pieces displayed. We came upon a shoe shiner who had a sign out that said, “I ain’t gonna ask you where you got your shoes from. I ain’t gonna try and scam you. I work hard for my money.” Apparently there is a scam that goes on where someone will tell an unsuspecting tourist that they will bet them that they know where they got them shoes-the answer you gots them on your feet-they then demand money for the correct answer. I had read about this too before we left home and was familiar with why he had this sign. If I had not been wearing sneakers, I would have gladly paid this gentleman to shine my shoes!

We walked into St. Louis Cathedral, the oldest cathedral in the United States-founded in 1720 by the French, and were immediately met by the candle offering. Finally, I can light a candle for my father in the South, remembering how many churches I tried to and failed in in Charleston. This cathedral certainly doesn’t compare to the ones in Europe but it was nonetheless serene.

Upon exiting, we were immediately met by a group of young boys playing some mean jazz. Every now and then another boy would show up and pull out an instrument and join in. They were really very good and Jenny and I enjoyed watching them for quite some time, that is until something else caught our attention-a couple walking dressed as a pirate and his wench, and let me just say both Jenny’s and my mouth dropped when we saw the size of this woman’s boobs. OMG!!

As we continued walking, our ensuing conversation certainly brought a lot of laughs, and we were beyond amused with ourselves. About that time one of the artist’s works caught our eye and we stopped and purchased two wood block pieces of a trumpeter that was reminiscent of Louis Armstrong.

Having had enough of the throngs of people we decided to walk over to the river and make our way along the river walk back towards the hotel. Once up on the levee, the breeze was so refreshing we took a seat and just enjoyed watching the paddle boats and barges moving up and down the river. The spot was also great for people watching-there are certainly some characters in this city!

Back at the hotel we relaxed for an hour or so before heading out to dinner. Dinner tonight was at GW Fins-the #1 rated restaurant on Trip Advisor and boy did it not disappoint. Our dinners were amazing! Jenny opted for three appetizers-tuna crudo, tuna tacos and red snapper ceviche. I had a shrimp salad with fried green tomatoes and a parmesan crusted speckled trout. We both ate every bite and when it came time for dessert I thought I was going to pass until Jenny insisted I didn’t and said we had walked four plus miles today so it was OK. Well, I am glad I didn’t because I ended up eating every bite of my coconut samoa as did Jenny with her salted caramel ice cream pie-wow, wow, wow!

As we exited the building, there was a marching band going down Bourbon Street with masses of people following along. Turning to go back the other way (keeping with my plan to avoid Bourbon Street in the evening), I noticed far far fewer people. Hearing the words of the woman from earlier in the park office in my head, I told Jenny we were headed into the debauchery that is Bourbon street to get back to the hotel. Of course we literally just turned the corner and some girl is flashing herself to receive the beads that are literally hanging off every street sign, wrapped around every pole and dangling from every fence post and tree branch. Oh well-so much for well intended plans-I suppose the old adages are smart to live by-better safe than sorry, safety in numbers and don’t do like the fools do!

Our first day in New Orleans was certainly an interesting one. Tomorrow we plan on going to the Garden District, a far quieter and more genteel area than the French Quarter. It has been quite an experience, and we saw things we haven’t ever seen before-including the good, the bad and the downright hideous! We were just sorry Billy wasn’t here to share it all with us!

Sunday, February 18

Send Them An Email We’re Coming and Don’t Do As The Fools Do, Part II

This morning Jenny and I were headed to Ruby Slipper Cafe for breakfast-an establishment far different than Brennan’s with an almost cult-like following. I had read about this app called No Wait before we left where we could put our name on the list without ever having to walk in the door, so we took advantage of that and put our name in as we finished readying in our room.

By the time we arrived at our designated time, there was a mass of people outside but we waited no more than ten minutes before being seated. The menu was eclectic with a very cajun/creole twist and Jenny and I decided we would split our meals. We had an eggs benedict (this time with applewood smoked bacon and roasted tomato on a biscuit) as well as french toast batons- simply delicious!

After finishing breakfast we walked a few blocks down Canal Street to grab the St. Charles streetcar to the Garden District. The St. Charles is the oldest continuously operated streetcar in the world, having been in operation since 1835 and was designated a National Historic Landmark in 2014.

The ride along St. Charles was pleasant, with the refreshing breeze keeping things comfortable and the unique setting passing by. I had decided we would get off at Jackson Street to go and see Buckner mansion, a home that has been used in, among other shows, American Horror Story. Buckner mansion was built in 1856 by the cotton kingpin Henry S Buckner, who happens to be my 3rd cousin five times removed (we both descend from my 7th great grandfather). It is an opulent mansion and was built to compete with Buckner’s ex-partner, Stanton, that had the most luxurious mansion of the time in Natchez.

Jenny said I should have emailed them to let them know we would be coming and would love a tour of the family homestead, just like we had done at Ashlawn/Highland and Morven…funny girl she is!

Almost across the street, the pink Trinity Church was letting out from Sunday mass. It was at this church in 1870 that the sister of my great great grandmother Jennie Buckner, was married in, having retained the invitation in the family all these years. It left me imagining if perhaps there had been a reception held for them across the street in the beautiful Buckner mansion.

From there Jenny and I zigzagged up and down through the Lower Garden District, enjoying the magnificent mansions with their wraparound porches, sweeping staircases, and second floor galleries. The architectural styles are varied but I think Jenny and I both settled on liking the plantation styles best. Every now and then there was a smaller bungalow or a pair of shotgun houses mixed in but for the most part, they were all big!Even here, away from the parade routes, the majority of the houses were decorated in some fashion for Mardi Gras. Some of the most opulent of mansions had beads hanging around their wrought iron fences and dangling from their trees.

The Garden District is the antithesis of the French Quarter-quiet, clean, and green (though it was sad to see how many dead plants there were-clearly banana trees, ferns, palmettos and palms do not appreciate the cold temperatures). We enjoyed our time walking through these mostly deserted streets and escaping the mayhem of the Quarter.

At one point, we happened upon the famed Commander’s Palace-a teal and white painted building with matching striped awnings, as the well-heeled were arriving for Sunday brunch. Across the street was Lafayette Cemetery, the oldest municipally owned cemetery with roughly 7,000 dead in its one city block. The cemetery is non-denominational and non-segregated and still has burials taking place today. We decided to go and walk among those eternally resting, admiring the ornate tombs, all of which are above ground and may contain up to 30 family members in one tomb. We recognized a few last names-Kemp and Phelps and wondered where, if anywhere, on our family trees they might be.

The sun was out and it was getting a bit warm so Jenny and I thought it would be nice to go sit in Audubon Park for a bit. Back onto the streetcar we rode up St Charles passing one enormous house after the other. All a bit different, each as equally lovely with only a few truly ostentatious ones scattered about.

We exited the streetcar right at Audobon Park, directly across the street from both Loyola and Tulane Universities. Jenny was intrigued by both campuses beauty but was quick to point out that there was no way she could go to school there as it was only February and she was already sweating! Looks like it is going to be a northern or western university for her.

We enjoyed walking along the shady paths under the huge live oak trees and over to one of the ponds. There were hundreds of ducks-not too sure what kind and at least twenty turtles, some swimming, some sunning themselves on a rock. Jenny got a kick out of all the turtles so we stayed a while to watch them.

Feeling the need to find a shady spot to sit, we walked over to a fountain and plopped down on a bench in the shade of an enormous oak tree. Sitting there contemplating our next move, a family walked up with their pug who was grunting something fierce. The owner walked the dog over to the fountain and plopped it in where it basked in the refreshment the cooling waters brought on. A few minutes later, an unexpected sight of a group of horseback riders ventured up and brought their horses over to drink. Now there was the pug in the fountain staring at these gigantic beasts that were drinking and nosing the water into waves-quite an amusing sight. I found it interesting that they were all wearing cowboy boots riding in Western saddles as I would have assumed that English was the preferred saddle of choice in these parts-go figure!

After being amused by the pug, horses and an additional dog who ran around and around in the fountain playing stay away from his owner, Jenny and I decided to find the donut shop we had heard was so good. We hopped back on the streetcar and exited a few stops down, walking back through the Garden District to Magazine Street, where we found District Donuts. The restaurant was hip inside with a warehouse vibe and furnishings made from reclaimed wood and metal. We ordered up three donuts to try, strawberry lemonade, brown butter drop (really an oversized donut hole) and brownie batter-Jenny enjoyed them more than I did. We decided that the donuts in Charleston and ones we recently had in New Haven far exceeded these.

We had heard Magazine Street was supposed to have some great indy boutiques and such but we couldn’t really seem to find them. We walked one way then turned and walked another but decided that it was getting late and we would just walk back up to catch the streetcar back to the hotel before heading to dinner. This turned out easier said then done as streetcar after streetcar was already packed by the time it got to where we were waiting. Finally, by the fourth streetcar, I told Jenny we were just going to have to get on and stand otherwise we might be there til morning! We ended up standing next to two couples, who were seated one behind the other. They actually “entertained” us on the ride back as the two women had clearly been drinking and were slurring their words and telling ridiculous stories.

At one point, the one woman asks the other, “Aren’t you wondering why I’m not wearing my wedding rings?” I’m thinking the same reason I’m not wearing mine-because the last thing I wanted to do was flaunt anything flashy in a city that is known to have such a high poverty level and crime rate, right? Wrong! She’s not wearing them because she smashed her hand through the wall and in the process lost the “$25,000 diamond.” She then goes on to say, as she’s got her arm hanging out the window pointing, “Oops, I just almost lost my $400 bracelet.” Ok so now that she has announced she’s got money to everyone riding the streetcar, I’m hoping that all those people realize that just because we are standing next to these fools, we are not with them! I made the mental note that if they got off on the same exit as we did, we would turn the opposite direction than they did!

I find all of these encounters great learning experiences for Jenny. I like her witnessing this sort of behavior (including the foolish girl last night flashing herself) because she can see firsthand what an idiot one can make of oneself with drinking too much.

Jenny and I had a good laugh after they got off because they had been having this debate about how to pronounce New Orleans. One of the men had turned to Jenny and asked her if she was from there, to which she of course replied no. Afterwards she said she wished she had said yes and had a little fun with him telling him that in order to sound like a local, you need to pronounce it Noh• Or•lee•ans…too funny!

Dinner tonight was unfortunately not anywhere as good as the night before. The service was completely nonexistent for the first 20 minutes after being seated (though they did apologize profusely as well as give us an additional appetizer and comp us a dessert). The menu was almost so avant-garde that you were really wondering what it was you had just ordered. The food was really just OK. Jenny and I opted to split a whole deep fried fish-a new experience for her but a dish that is common to the South. She was a bit surprised it arrived with its head and eyeballs still attached though she was game to eat it and actually enjoyed it.

Our walk back from dinner found us in stitches-laughing so hard I am sure people thought the both of us drunk. What were we laughing at? Well I really don’t know. We were just being silly, Jenny especially, but it was the perfect ending to a wonderful day, spent with my girl!

Monday, February 20

Educated in New Orleans

Jenny decided we were going to get up and out earlier today and had chosen a place for breakfast a short cab ride away. Willa Jean’s was a great space and had a great menu. We settled on splitting an order of the griddled banana bread and then an order of huevos rancheros for Jenny and avocado toast for me along with two milk honey iced lattes-all delicious, and as Jenny said it was deserved after having walked over six miles yesterday!

Overly stuffed, we walked back to the hotel to pack our bags and set out in time to catch the first tour of the day at the historic Hermann-Grima House. The 6000 plus square foot house was built in 1831 for Samuel Hermann, the wealthiest man in New Orleans at the time. It was built right in the middle of the French Quarter, just off of Bourbon Street in the Federal Style-a most unusual style for New Orleans at the time, but both the size and style were done to attract the attention of townsfolk. Following the crash of the cotton market, the Hermamns had to sell the home to pay off looming debts and the second owners, the Grimma family, kept it until the 1920s. The house is furnished with many original pieces and gave a good perspective on what life was like in those days, both as a wealthy family and as a slave. The docent was quite good and gave us a lot of historical background on New Orleans at the time, including the history of the large percentage of free colored people, the code noir, and the slave trade.

All the while walking around New Orleans, we kept seeing signs with voodoo this and voodoo that. Intrigued by this, Jenny had stayed up last night reading up on voodoo to get a better understanding of it. She gave me a lesson on it over breakfast-did I know that it really has nothing to do with black magic? It isn’t something to be afraid of. That it more a religion than anything else? She then asked if we could go to the New Orleans Historic Voodoo museum (asking to go to a museum is a first for her!)

Voodoo first came to Louisiana via West African slaves, but it became syncretized with Catholicism and Francophone religion, its beliefs are quite similar, as a result of the slave trade and forced conversion. The most famous Voodoo queen was Marie Laveau, a free woman of color (the daughter of a white planter and a black Creole woman), and a devout Catholic. She held incredible power throughout the community as a whole and as such people would ask her for help. Today, offerings are still left for her, in hopes of her help, at numerous places around New Orleans but none as much as at the Museum.

The Museum was small but interesting-an eclectic mix of African tribal artifacts and the makeshift shrines of offerings that have been set up in every inch of the place. It is always fascinating learning about other culture’s traditions and how they have weathered the course of time.

Truth be told, when the idea of the museum first came up, I was a bit uneasy about it. Everything I thought I knew about voodoo I had obviously “learned” from how it has been racially portrayed throughout history and of course by Hollywood. Over the course of time, it has been portrayed by both of the aforementioned to be something to be afraid of; fear begets fear.

I am so grateful that Jenny is inquisitive, open minded and most importantly nonjudgmental. She doesn’t turn her head or believe she is above those who are different or have different beliefs; she is accepting. So thank you Cheech for educating me to what Voodoo really is versus what I thought I knew it to be.

In hindsight, it seemed rather apropos to be getting an education at this time, as yesterday when Jenny and I were standing at the gates to the Buckner Mansion, I looked down and noticed part of a black and white tile mosaic covered by leaves. Brushing the leaves aside revealed a quote by the 18th century English poet William Cowper that has resonated with me since, “From education as the leading cause, the public character its color draws.” Hmmmm….

In keeping with the voodoo theme, we thought we would go visit Congo Square, the area where both free people of color and slaves would go to express themselves spiritually, especially through song and dance, before being outlawed at the beginning of the Civil War.

Today Congo square is part of Louis Armstrong Park-named for the renowned jazz musician. It is still the site where people come together to sing and dance in native tradition and gather to celebrate.

Following a relaxing 30 minutes or so in the shade, we decided to return to Brennan’s, for lunch this time. We enjoyed it again as much as the first time, and enjoyed watching the waiter flambé the bananas foster, a dessert that originated at Brennan’s, for our neighboring table.

Upon exiting, Jenny took a notice to the Louisiana Supreme Court building directly across the street. She asked if I thought it was open and if so if we could look inside. I was skeptical of it being open since it was Presidents Day but alas it was open and completely devoid of another soul, except the security guards running the x-ray machine. We walked into the small museum that was inside (I know, another museum) and were amused by the two different Merricks that had held a position in the Louisiana judicial branch. From there we walked the long marbled halls, lined by portraits of Louisiana’s judicial officers, until we reached the elevator to take us to the second floor law library. Hoping it would be pleasing to the eye, it simply wasn’t but it is simply amazing the amount of law books that have been published!

Upon exiting the library, Jenny wondered aloud what there was to see in the fourth floor “coat room” the guard had told us about. Cracking up, I told her it was not the coat room he had suggested we go see, it was the court room! Too funny! After having a good laugh, we stood in the doorway and Jenny very astutely pointed out how intimidating it must be standing there with those nine judges, in a semicircle, looking down on you.

The Courthouse was a total unexpected stop but turned out to be enjoyable. The guards were clearly perplexed why two people from CT, neither of whom were lawyers or attending law school (they asked) were interested in walking around a Louisiana courthouse so it was kind of an added bonus to leave them wondering.

We were now running short on time so we made a few quick stops for last minute essentials (chocolates and creamed pralines) and made a beeline for the hotel to grab our bags and call an Uber for our 4:00 flight.

So some final thoughts on New Orleans: It was the most culturally different, sometimes shockingly so, US city we have been to. Jenny said Dublin’s Temple Bar area has nothing on Bourbon Street, but to be fair to the Irish, we weren’t there at the peak of their drinking times! Everyday, a few times a day, while walking through the streets, we were met with serious gag reflexes with different smells that would waft our way-I can’t say that has happened any other place before. The music and street entertainment was great and the food was some of the best meals we have had in one place traveling! We always have fun together, and New Orleans was no exception. I can’t say that it is high on my want-to-return-to list, but we certainly enjoyed our time in the Big Easy, we only wish Billy could have joined us!

And for anybody who likes some good old country music, check out the song entitled Marie Laveau by Bobby Bare-my friend Julie shared it with me-love it!