Dear Reader,
Please forgive my failure to write yesterday. I was too exhausted from yard work. Even I have to devote some time to my place of residence before I can go out and have some fun.
It was on my first Greek cruise, the one we took in the middle of my chemotherapy, that we visited Turkey also for the first time. The cruise sailed out of Piraeus, Greece, the port city for Athens and it was a great seven day cruise stopping at Patmos, Rhodes, Mykonos, Santorini, Crete plus an overnight in Istanbul, which was fantastic, and Kusadasi, Turkey. This was a lot of stops in only seven days but we ran like crazy and saw everything on my list of sights worth seeing. Every place we went was special and unique. I'd do the same exact cruise over again.
Being a Historian I get a special thrill over the prospect of visiting ancient ruins. I've climbed ruins all over Europe and never miss a chance to see more. Turkey contains some of the greatest ruins of the ancient world and I couldn't wait to see them, the most famous being Ephesus, or Ephes, as the natives call it.
The ancient city of Ephesus was Greek, then Roman, and it is a vast sight which is highly recognizable for what it was. St. Paul preached against idols here in the theater, which is still very much intact. Caesar and Cleopatra strolled down the same grand marble street that we walked, only in their day it was covered to protect them from the sun. We weren't protected and it was very hot. A lot of the columns which once held the roof over the street still remain. The greatest sight is the library which has two full walls, three stories high, standing. Apparently prostitutes used to hang out in front to pick up a Brutus. There are inscriptions of names all over the walls and Julius Caesar's name is very prominently displayed over an archway on the side wall. I could have spent a week studying this sight but we only had one day and the heat was cripplling.
When I was studying up for our cruise I learned that the cheapest way to get from Kusadasi to Ephesus is by Dolmus, a public transportation bus. This sounded good to me though I could not find out exactly where to catch the Dolmus in advance. I figured, someone will know.
I eventually learned during the cruise that no one knows anything other than the information about cruise tours. If you don't get your own information in advance, you're either on your own, or booking a ship's tour. There's nothing wrong with ship's tours except the price, which is a lot higher than doing your own touring. However, ship's tours do offer such amenities as air-conditioning and a guarantee that you won't miss your boat. That's comforting but I'm on a budget so I plan all shore excursions myself.
When we arrived in Kusadasi we had to walk a gauntlet through a customs/giant gift shop to get to the main street. The streets are paved with marble and other shiny stone, just like in Ephesus. We wandered up the main street looking for the tourist office and a map. This we found and the nice lady pointed out where to find the dolmus. We followed her directions until we got lost and when John stopped to consult "the map of knowledge" as he likes to call it, a very nice looking young man dressed in grey slacks and a white dress shirt with tie came out of his shop and asked if he could help us. He said "I am a gentleman and can help you". We took him at his word and he did give us excellent directions.
As we approached the bus depot, which is a concrete divider in the middle of a busy street where the buses don't actually stop, they stop around the corner, we walked past a very inviting little restaurant/bar with outdoor tables and an awning above. It looked so appealing. The owner ran out and started chatting us up and invited us to stay and eat. We told him we had already eaten. He offered us a cold beer. That sounded so good! But no, we have to get to Ephesus. So he pointed out the buses, which are the size of a VW bus, and made us promise to return later for a beer. We agreed to this.
It was easy to figure out which bus to climb aboard. I just asked each driver "Ephes?" and on the second try got the right bus. I tried to ask how much but the driver just nodded so we sat down. The seats were narrow and it was difficult for John and I to stay on ours without falling off. More people got on after us and finally we were full and ready to go. The driver took off and we drove up into the hills of Kusadasi hitting speed bumps and potholes, though the city streets are pretty good. At a bus stop he picked up another passenger. We all squeezed together. Then he shouted out something like 50 lira and stuck his arm back while driving with the other. John put coins in his hand which the driver threw into his ashtray. Then more people started passing coins forward person to person to John who handed the money to the driver who was manuvering around corners and over bumps but somehow managed to count how much money everyone paid. It was pretty impressive.
When we were out of the city we rode for awhile along the coast only up on a cliff but it wasn't a sheer cliff and didn't seem scary at the time. I've been on the bus to Positano, Italy and that's scary! But it was quite hot in the bus and with all the people crowded in it got hotter. The driver didn't seem to care how many people were in the bus. He continued to stop and cram more folks on board as we bounced along on our way to Ephes. Of course, not everyone was going to Ephes. In fact, we were the only ones who did that day. And some people got off at various resorts on the coast, a huge waterpark attracted several, and their homes were along the way too.
The road turned inland and finally flat. The grass turned green and trees were a few yards ahead. This looked promising. When we reached the Ephes stop the driver advised that we should cross the road and walk up the gravel drive for about 2 kilometers and then take the dirt path until we reach the entrance. We started off on our quest for history down the gravel path which was tree lined so that wasn't too bad. But when we got to the dirt path it wound up around a small hill and got very narrow. There were tall weeds growing on either side and I started to get sand in my shoes but the worst part was our full exposure to the sun. It was directly overhead and since I was forced to wear a wig plus a hat sweat was pouring out of my scalp. We were prepared with our hats and water bottles but I had almost finished mine during the ride.
When we finally reached the entrance there is a rather wide paved road and a turn around but the gate was in the shade. There were no lines of people which surprised me and after a small fee we were in. The best news was that they have a restroom right inside the gate which was also in the shade. I threw cold water on my face and arms and refilled my water bottle at the drinking fountain. Those ancients thought of everything!
We also strolled the grand boulevard and sat in the theater, gazed in awe at the library and imagine hookers propositioning St. Paul, wandered through the remains of various shops and houses along the way and finally reached the temples beyond the end of the city. There were fields of rubble ruins beyond that point and a very large crowd of ship's tourists approaching from that direction. We wondered where the heck they had been and didn't find out until evening that there is another back entrance where the tour buses park so the tourists don't have to walk the 2 kilometers and the dirt path. So, they had air-conditioning too but we got to ride the Dolmus.
The grand street makes a large curve just past the library and begins a bit of an uphill climb. The street could be quite slippery and I imagined what it was like during rain. On one side was a large structure which had been a great house. It was under renovations and cost an extra fee to go inside so we decided to wait until next time to see it. They did have some of the beautiful mosaic floors on display.
I think my favorite sight was the ancient restroom. I've always been fascinated by how people throughout history went to the bathroom, where they went and what they used. The Greeks and the Romans had this all figured out way back when. This particular restroom was square and must have been very pleasant. There were toilets around three walls and a nice fountain in a square pool in the center. The back wall was reserved for the orchestra. It must have been offensive to make noises while using the toilets so there was a band of musicians who played to cover up the sound. I'm sure they also had lots of flowers or good smelling herbs in the place to cover the smell. Such civilized people!
We decided we'd had enough for one day and started the long walk back to the highway. There was nothing to sit on and no cover but we knew where it was and just had to stand there until another Dolmus drove by in the right direction, then flag him down. This time it was fully packed. I ended up sitting next to the driver in the front of the bus but later at a resort an entire family boarded with baby and baby carriage and everyone had to squeeze. I ended up sitting between the driver's seat and the passenger seat with the stick shift between my legs. Alright, this was a bit awkward but tell me that any of those people on the ship's tour could top that.
When we returned to Kusadasi there was still time to stop for that beer so we did. The owner was a great guy who talked incessantly about everything including New York City where he lived sometimes. His English was perfect and there was hardly any accent. He was fascinated with politics and told us all about Kusadasi. When winter comes, most businesses close down for 6 months. Most residents have to go elsewhere to work. That sounds rough. He said a lot of them go to Ireland because jobs are plentiful there. I had this odd image in my head of Dublin being overrun by Turks and having pub brawls over the beer. Turkish beer is quite good, I think. But people do what they have to do, and he seemed to really enjoy running his establishment. He gave us some free snacks too and they were outstanding. But, alas it was time to return to our cruise ship and perhaps take a swim and have another beer. Such is the tough cruise life.
To compare the cruise ship tour to ours I would have to remember their exact cost, which I don't but I believe it was around 90.00 Euros, which is more than $100.00 per person. The cost of taking the Dolmus to Ephesus, which is about 30 miles from Kusadasi, is only about $1.00 US. The entrance fee for Ephesus was one of the more reasonable ones at about $9.00 US. The beer, priceless!
Cheers,
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Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
It's the Worst Breakfast in the World
Dear Reader,
After 27 years of travels in Europe I still have many fond memories of our very first Grand Tour back in 1983. I spoke to you about it before and how very excited I was. Everything I saw was magical and wonderful. There were a lot of mistakes maken in the planning of that vacation but I was a novice, afterall.
I still remember how strange and exotic Amsterdam seemed to me on that first vacation. I'd never been anywhere like that before. Everywhere we walked along the crowded streets we would hear voices speaking "hashish" "marijuana" "joint"??? I'd look around curiously but had no idea where the voices were coming from.
All over town, especially in the Dam, the main square, ex-hippies or wanna-bes were playing guitars and singing old rock music. I remember distinctly one guy singing "Love the One You're With" by Stephen Stills. I found this amusing at the time. Afterall, it was the 80s and New Wave music had hit the scene.
John insisted we try Indonesian food while we were there. I found this a bizarre idea because I just couldn't wrap my head around the idea of eating Asian food in the Netherlands. But John was patient with me and explained again how Indonesia had been colonized by the Dutch and their food is a blend of Dutch cuisine and the native Indonesian food. John knew all about this having lived in Indonesia as a child for two years.
I agreed reluctantly to try Indonesian food and it was wonderful! We had a traditional rijkstaffel which is a feast consisting of small plates of spicy and flavorful dishes such as meat stewed in coconut sauce, chicken sate', all with a large platter of rice. I loved it and have been hooked on Indonesian food since then.
Another thing that we both noticed as unusual in Amsterdam are the people themselves. They are very large people as a whole. John is 6'5" tall but I'm only 5'3" tall and most people seemed to tower over John! You can imagine how I felt. On top of that back in the 80s a lot of them sported really tall Mohawk hairdos died in bright colors, hot pink, bright green, and blue. Some of the Mohawks were a good six inches tall adding to the height of the already tall people. Plus a lot of them wore Doc Martins, big boots with about a two inch heal.
John was really fascinated by the women with their tall Mohawks and thought they were very beautiful. He commented on one of them when she had to bend way over to board the tram we were on. I just remember getting on a train with a bunch of Boyscouts who must have been around the age of thirteen or fourteen and they were all giants. One approached my direction as I was walking towards the end of the car and, I kid you not, I was looking directly at his belt. John said that the Netherlands are the first country he ever felt normal in sizewise. That was nice for him.
Overall, the Dutch people we encountered were very friendly and all seemed to speak English which is nice as well.
When we first arrived in Amsterdam, we followed my list of bed and breakfast places and went knocking on doors. It was a bit disconcerting at first but we finally got used to something every landlord would say to us. Here's how it went: "Do you have a room available?" "Yes, we do, an excellent room." After asking about the price, I would ask if breakfast is included and the answer would invariably be, "Yes, we have the worst breakfast in the world."
When the first landlord we spoke to uttered that phrase, "We have the worst breakfast in the world." we took him seriously, thanked him and continued to the next place on my list. I had no idea that this was something they all like to say as some sort of joke. We were, afterall, pretty young at the time. But after the next landlord said the same thing, John and I started to get a clue.
To this day, I have no idea what they mean in Amsterdam when they tell you "We have the worst breakfast in the world." but take my word for it, it isn't. In fact, I really like the breakfasts in the Netherlands which consist of not only bread and jam and coffee and juice but also cheeses and meat cold cuts. It's rather nice.
So the next time you go to Amsterdam, please ask the landlord if they serve breakfast and let me know if they are still saying "We have the worst breakfast in the world." I quit asking when we go because I already know the answer. Also, be sure to try some Indonesian food. You'll thank me later.
Good Night
After 27 years of travels in Europe I still have many fond memories of our very first Grand Tour back in 1983. I spoke to you about it before and how very excited I was. Everything I saw was magical and wonderful. There were a lot of mistakes maken in the planning of that vacation but I was a novice, afterall.
I still remember how strange and exotic Amsterdam seemed to me on that first vacation. I'd never been anywhere like that before. Everywhere we walked along the crowded streets we would hear voices speaking "hashish" "marijuana" "joint"??? I'd look around curiously but had no idea where the voices were coming from.
All over town, especially in the Dam, the main square, ex-hippies or wanna-bes were playing guitars and singing old rock music. I remember distinctly one guy singing "Love the One You're With" by Stephen Stills. I found this amusing at the time. Afterall, it was the 80s and New Wave music had hit the scene.
John insisted we try Indonesian food while we were there. I found this a bizarre idea because I just couldn't wrap my head around the idea of eating Asian food in the Netherlands. But John was patient with me and explained again how Indonesia had been colonized by the Dutch and their food is a blend of Dutch cuisine and the native Indonesian food. John knew all about this having lived in Indonesia as a child for two years.
I agreed reluctantly to try Indonesian food and it was wonderful! We had a traditional rijkstaffel which is a feast consisting of small plates of spicy and flavorful dishes such as meat stewed in coconut sauce, chicken sate', all with a large platter of rice. I loved it and have been hooked on Indonesian food since then.
Another thing that we both noticed as unusual in Amsterdam are the people themselves. They are very large people as a whole. John is 6'5" tall but I'm only 5'3" tall and most people seemed to tower over John! You can imagine how I felt. On top of that back in the 80s a lot of them sported really tall Mohawk hairdos died in bright colors, hot pink, bright green, and blue. Some of the Mohawks were a good six inches tall adding to the height of the already tall people. Plus a lot of them wore Doc Martins, big boots with about a two inch heal.
John was really fascinated by the women with their tall Mohawks and thought they were very beautiful. He commented on one of them when she had to bend way over to board the tram we were on. I just remember getting on a train with a bunch of Boyscouts who must have been around the age of thirteen or fourteen and they were all giants. One approached my direction as I was walking towards the end of the car and, I kid you not, I was looking directly at his belt. John said that the Netherlands are the first country he ever felt normal in sizewise. That was nice for him.
Overall, the Dutch people we encountered were very friendly and all seemed to speak English which is nice as well.
When we first arrived in Amsterdam, we followed my list of bed and breakfast places and went knocking on doors. It was a bit disconcerting at first but we finally got used to something every landlord would say to us. Here's how it went: "Do you have a room available?" "Yes, we do, an excellent room." After asking about the price, I would ask if breakfast is included and the answer would invariably be, "Yes, we have the worst breakfast in the world."
When the first landlord we spoke to uttered that phrase, "We have the worst breakfast in the world." we took him seriously, thanked him and continued to the next place on my list. I had no idea that this was something they all like to say as some sort of joke. We were, afterall, pretty young at the time. But after the next landlord said the same thing, John and I started to get a clue.
To this day, I have no idea what they mean in Amsterdam when they tell you "We have the worst breakfast in the world." but take my word for it, it isn't. In fact, I really like the breakfasts in the Netherlands which consist of not only bread and jam and coffee and juice but also cheeses and meat cold cuts. It's rather nice.
So the next time you go to Amsterdam, please ask the landlord if they serve breakfast and let me know if they are still saying "We have the worst breakfast in the world." I quit asking when we go because I already know the answer. Also, be sure to try some Indonesian food. You'll thank me later.
Good Night
You Can Stay in My Chateau
Dear Reader,
One year not too long ago frustrated with our family during Christmas time we decided to escape and spend Christmas in our favorite city, Paris. It felt selfish and I had difficulty with the guilt of not putting on our annual Christmas feast and overall drunkathon but it seemed that no one cared anymore, so why should we?
We flew to Paris the day before Christmas Eve arriving on the day of. I had a nice chat with a local Parisian next to me on the plane who told me all about the Christmas Eve tradition of eating raw oysters. This I had never heard. He even gave me several recommendations for restaurants that might still be able to fit us in. They get booked up far in advance. As for him, he was picking up a case of oysters to take home and prepare for the family himself. A very nice man, indeed.
Upon arrival at Charles de Gaul airport we took the RER train into town. However, the ticket does not cover the metro so we had to get off at Gare du Nord to buy our metro tickets. We've done this before many times but this time the station was empty and quiet as a morgue. There were no ticket windows open anywhere so we decided to look for a ticket machine. They did not seem prevalent either. I think we were both just so tired and both coming down with colds that we couldn't think straight.
A young woman saw us standing around trying to figure out which way to go and she came up to us and asked if she could help. We told her and she pointed the direction of the closest ticket machine and gave detailed instructions how to find it. I'm glad I met her because I don't know if I would have ever found that one.
Once we found the ticket machine we had other issues. I think it was difficult to tell which button to push for credit cards vs. a pass or cash. I'm not sure. Like I said, I was bleary eyed. Then a very nice young man approached and asked if he could help us. We told him the problem and he did it for us while explaining how it worked. Normally I would have felt stupid not knowing because we've bought tickets from these machines many times before but in this situation I was just grateful. How nice it was of him to help strangers and obvious tourists.
We got to the Hotel St. Andre des Arts, where we had stayed three times before, and it was like a homecoming. The owner was there playing his jazz CDs and recognized us and offered a big greeting. We found our room which was in the loft, a six floor walkup. By the time we made it to the room we were so exhausted that we fell asleep. It had been an overcast yet warm and muggy day so we had all the windows open when this happened.
At midnight I awoke to the sound of Notre Dame's bells ringing. I couldn't believe it. We'd slept through our Christmas Eve dinner. Oh well. We agreed there was nothing to do about eating so we went back to sleep. Once again, we were unaware that we were about to be very sick and just thought it was unusually bad jet lag.
Christmas in Paris is extremely festive and the people seem to be overjoyed. Lights were everywhere. Each arrondisement (quarter) had it's own light display. I particularly liked the lights in the second arrondisement which were very old fashioned and hanging over the ancient streets. Up at Montmarte there were white lights on all of the trees and the stone pavements glistened. There was no snow but the views of Paris and around were glistening, even during the daytime. Of course the Champs Elysee was lit up for it's full length. Every tree had white lights all over it, not just a few but all of them. At one intersection there were Christmas trees arranged in two different traffic circles. They were quite large and flocked. After dark colored lights would rotate shining various hues of green, red, blue, purple, yellow on the white trees. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Another great display was at the Hotel Ritz inside their solarium. All trees were decorated and brilliant, some green and some flocked and they glittered reflecting on pools of water. It was a lovely sight.
By the day after Christmas we were both quite ill. It was sad to feel so bad in Paris and we did our best to keep our spirits up and enjoy ourselves. I thought it might be a nice change to go down the street to the Irish Pub and have beer instead of our usual French aperitif. This was probably a mistake because it was dark, packed and filled with cigarette smoke which made John cough and my throat hurt, but I wanted my beer so we looked for an empty table with no luck. I noticed a table which could seat four people squeezed together and only had two occupants, a man and a woman sitting across from each other. They did not appear to be in love so I walked right up and asked if anyone was sitting with them. They shook their heads and offered us a seat.
Hard rock music was playing rather loudly so communication was difficult. Neither of our companions spoke a word of English so I had to do my best shouting in French. The man looked like a fisherman. He had a heavy five o'clock shadow, a thick lamb's wool hat and fisherman's wool sweater on. He also looked rather dazed and confused. I mistakenly thought he was bombed. His companion was older, perhaps by ten years, and she was in business attire. An odd couple to say the least.
I was trying to explain to John where we were going to tour the next day but he couldn't hear me either so I got our my Paris Carte Musee blooklet which comes with the Carte Musee pass. This pass is one of the greatest deals offered by any city I've ever visted. It allows free admission to almost every major sight in Paris and also out of Paris including Versailles and Chateau de Vincennes plus Saint-Denis where all of the French royals are buried. The best part is you never have to wait in any lines, not even at the Louvre. Just walk right past the lines and show your pass and you can visit as often as you like. This is especially good at the Musee' D'Orsay where the line wrapped around the block the last time we were there. We walked right past them and showed our passes to the guard who lifted the red velvet rope for us to walk right in. The passes can be purchased for 1, 3, 5 or 7 days and it's worth every penny. The booklet that comes with the pass folds like an accordian down to the size of a credit card. The pages show all sights included plus their hours of operation, telephone number and address, bus and metro or RER information. It's a great little guide.
On the back of my guide booklet was a minitature of a painting by Picasso. The fisherman saw it and yelled Picasso! I looked at it and agreed that it was a Picasso. He got excited and yelled Picasso again. So I asked him if he liked Picasso. He was still perplexed and spoke to his friend in some unusual dialect that I didn't understand. She tried to explain to me in English which I also didn't understand. I looked and John and he was just as confused. Then he pointed at the picture and back at himself and said Picasso. Now I was worried. This guy thought HE was Picasso.
I looked at John and kind of nudged him a bit as a signal to drink up and let's get out of here. And then he spoke to me in normal French and said something very strange. He inherited a Picasso and it's touring in New York City as we speak. I was thinking, yeah, sure, you own a touring Picasso. Uh huh. He continued to speak slowly and more distinctly and was drawing on a napkin his story. As it turned out, a friend of his had recently passed away and left his Picasso to the fisherman. Not only that, but the fisherman also inherited two and one half chateaux. I asked him twice what he meant by a half chateau but he didn't understand. At least we were making progress.
He ordered us another round of beers and explained that he is a fisherman in Brittany and was in Paris today for the reading of the will. His sister-in-law, who lives in Paris, had accompanied him to help out. He had no idea his friend was going to leave him anything and was still in quite a state of shock when we met him. His sister-in-law confirmed this. I could tell she was rather excited about the whole idea. This guy is a commercial fisherman and owns his own boat but never had anything like a chateau before, much less two and one half chateaux. It was kind of funny and we all started to laugh about it.
We gave many toasts to him in celebration of his good fortune and had an enjoyable evening. Before we left he said very seriously "You can come to Brittany and stay in my chateau.". My eyes must have opened into quarters over that offer and I was immediately a little mistrustful being an American and all and disappointed because we had to fly home the next evening.
Finally the smoke and the drink got to us and we decided we had forgotten to eat dinner again so we should find a restaurant. We told them that we had to leave shortly. He wrote his name, Albine, and addres on the inside of my Carte Musee and said seriously if we ever were to visit Brittany to be sure to let him know and we can stay in his chateau. His sister-in-law, Manuella, also gave us her email address just in case. They were so nice and such every day working people that I felt extremely fortunate to have met them and made a connection.
By the time we flew home I was actually feeling better but poor John was really sick and coughed all the way home. We had such happy and fond memories of our Christmas in Paris though. So many kind and friendly people reached out to us during our visit. Even the waiters were especially friendly and outgoing for Christmas. I've never had any complaints about Parisians or the French in general and fail to understand people who do. This experience just reinforced what I believe to be true. People are the same everywhere and you must give them a chance to make a connection in order to find out this simple truth.
Bon Nuit
One year not too long ago frustrated with our family during Christmas time we decided to escape and spend Christmas in our favorite city, Paris. It felt selfish and I had difficulty with the guilt of not putting on our annual Christmas feast and overall drunkathon but it seemed that no one cared anymore, so why should we?
We flew to Paris the day before Christmas Eve arriving on the day of. I had a nice chat with a local Parisian next to me on the plane who told me all about the Christmas Eve tradition of eating raw oysters. This I had never heard. He even gave me several recommendations for restaurants that might still be able to fit us in. They get booked up far in advance. As for him, he was picking up a case of oysters to take home and prepare for the family himself. A very nice man, indeed.
Upon arrival at Charles de Gaul airport we took the RER train into town. However, the ticket does not cover the metro so we had to get off at Gare du Nord to buy our metro tickets. We've done this before many times but this time the station was empty and quiet as a morgue. There were no ticket windows open anywhere so we decided to look for a ticket machine. They did not seem prevalent either. I think we were both just so tired and both coming down with colds that we couldn't think straight.
A young woman saw us standing around trying to figure out which way to go and she came up to us and asked if she could help. We told her and she pointed the direction of the closest ticket machine and gave detailed instructions how to find it. I'm glad I met her because I don't know if I would have ever found that one.
Once we found the ticket machine we had other issues. I think it was difficult to tell which button to push for credit cards vs. a pass or cash. I'm not sure. Like I said, I was bleary eyed. Then a very nice young man approached and asked if he could help us. We told him the problem and he did it for us while explaining how it worked. Normally I would have felt stupid not knowing because we've bought tickets from these machines many times before but in this situation I was just grateful. How nice it was of him to help strangers and obvious tourists.
We got to the Hotel St. Andre des Arts, where we had stayed three times before, and it was like a homecoming. The owner was there playing his jazz CDs and recognized us and offered a big greeting. We found our room which was in the loft, a six floor walkup. By the time we made it to the room we were so exhausted that we fell asleep. It had been an overcast yet warm and muggy day so we had all the windows open when this happened.
At midnight I awoke to the sound of Notre Dame's bells ringing. I couldn't believe it. We'd slept through our Christmas Eve dinner. Oh well. We agreed there was nothing to do about eating so we went back to sleep. Once again, we were unaware that we were about to be very sick and just thought it was unusually bad jet lag.
Christmas in Paris is extremely festive and the people seem to be overjoyed. Lights were everywhere. Each arrondisement (quarter) had it's own light display. I particularly liked the lights in the second arrondisement which were very old fashioned and hanging over the ancient streets. Up at Montmarte there were white lights on all of the trees and the stone pavements glistened. There was no snow but the views of Paris and around were glistening, even during the daytime. Of course the Champs Elysee was lit up for it's full length. Every tree had white lights all over it, not just a few but all of them. At one intersection there were Christmas trees arranged in two different traffic circles. They were quite large and flocked. After dark colored lights would rotate shining various hues of green, red, blue, purple, yellow on the white trees. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Another great display was at the Hotel Ritz inside their solarium. All trees were decorated and brilliant, some green and some flocked and they glittered reflecting on pools of water. It was a lovely sight.
By the day after Christmas we were both quite ill. It was sad to feel so bad in Paris and we did our best to keep our spirits up and enjoy ourselves. I thought it might be a nice change to go down the street to the Irish Pub and have beer instead of our usual French aperitif. This was probably a mistake because it was dark, packed and filled with cigarette smoke which made John cough and my throat hurt, but I wanted my beer so we looked for an empty table with no luck. I noticed a table which could seat four people squeezed together and only had two occupants, a man and a woman sitting across from each other. They did not appear to be in love so I walked right up and asked if anyone was sitting with them. They shook their heads and offered us a seat.
Hard rock music was playing rather loudly so communication was difficult. Neither of our companions spoke a word of English so I had to do my best shouting in French. The man looked like a fisherman. He had a heavy five o'clock shadow, a thick lamb's wool hat and fisherman's wool sweater on. He also looked rather dazed and confused. I mistakenly thought he was bombed. His companion was older, perhaps by ten years, and she was in business attire. An odd couple to say the least.
I was trying to explain to John where we were going to tour the next day but he couldn't hear me either so I got our my Paris Carte Musee blooklet which comes with the Carte Musee pass. This pass is one of the greatest deals offered by any city I've ever visted. It allows free admission to almost every major sight in Paris and also out of Paris including Versailles and Chateau de Vincennes plus Saint-Denis where all of the French royals are buried. The best part is you never have to wait in any lines, not even at the Louvre. Just walk right past the lines and show your pass and you can visit as often as you like. This is especially good at the Musee' D'Orsay where the line wrapped around the block the last time we were there. We walked right past them and showed our passes to the guard who lifted the red velvet rope for us to walk right in. The passes can be purchased for 1, 3, 5 or 7 days and it's worth every penny. The booklet that comes with the pass folds like an accordian down to the size of a credit card. The pages show all sights included plus their hours of operation, telephone number and address, bus and metro or RER information. It's a great little guide.
On the back of my guide booklet was a minitature of a painting by Picasso. The fisherman saw it and yelled Picasso! I looked at it and agreed that it was a Picasso. He got excited and yelled Picasso again. So I asked him if he liked Picasso. He was still perplexed and spoke to his friend in some unusual dialect that I didn't understand. She tried to explain to me in English which I also didn't understand. I looked and John and he was just as confused. Then he pointed at the picture and back at himself and said Picasso. Now I was worried. This guy thought HE was Picasso.
I looked at John and kind of nudged him a bit as a signal to drink up and let's get out of here. And then he spoke to me in normal French and said something very strange. He inherited a Picasso and it's touring in New York City as we speak. I was thinking, yeah, sure, you own a touring Picasso. Uh huh. He continued to speak slowly and more distinctly and was drawing on a napkin his story. As it turned out, a friend of his had recently passed away and left his Picasso to the fisherman. Not only that, but the fisherman also inherited two and one half chateaux. I asked him twice what he meant by a half chateau but he didn't understand. At least we were making progress.
He ordered us another round of beers and explained that he is a fisherman in Brittany and was in Paris today for the reading of the will. His sister-in-law, who lives in Paris, had accompanied him to help out. He had no idea his friend was going to leave him anything and was still in quite a state of shock when we met him. His sister-in-law confirmed this. I could tell she was rather excited about the whole idea. This guy is a commercial fisherman and owns his own boat but never had anything like a chateau before, much less two and one half chateaux. It was kind of funny and we all started to laugh about it.
We gave many toasts to him in celebration of his good fortune and had an enjoyable evening. Before we left he said very seriously "You can come to Brittany and stay in my chateau.". My eyes must have opened into quarters over that offer and I was immediately a little mistrustful being an American and all and disappointed because we had to fly home the next evening.
Finally the smoke and the drink got to us and we decided we had forgotten to eat dinner again so we should find a restaurant. We told them that we had to leave shortly. He wrote his name, Albine, and addres on the inside of my Carte Musee and said seriously if we ever were to visit Brittany to be sure to let him know and we can stay in his chateau. His sister-in-law, Manuella, also gave us her email address just in case. They were so nice and such every day working people that I felt extremely fortunate to have met them and made a connection.
By the time we flew home I was actually feeling better but poor John was really sick and coughed all the way home. We had such happy and fond memories of our Christmas in Paris though. So many kind and friendly people reached out to us during our visit. Even the waiters were especially friendly and outgoing for Christmas. I've never had any complaints about Parisians or the French in general and fail to understand people who do. This experience just reinforced what I believe to be true. People are the same everywhere and you must give them a chance to make a connection in order to find out this simple truth.
Bon Nuit
Sunday, March 27, 2011
There's Never a Toilet Around When You Really Need One!
Dear Reader,
This is just a funny little story of another painful episode for my husband which took place once in Rome. Unlike the last painful incident I told you about, this time we were on foot in the middle of a huge city and it should not have been as difficult to find a toilet as it was on the road. If there's one thing I have learned from all our years of travel to Europe, it's always know where the toilets are. This knowledge will save your trip besides making it a lot more pleasant.
Back in the day before ATM machines were common in Europe, we were way ahead of Europe in that respect, people used to have to carry traveler' checks or exchange US dollars at a bank. Both methods were a real pain in the backside but traveler's checks were slightly better.
Almost everything in those days was cash only as well. The museums and other sights, inexpensive osterias and pizzerias, public transportation and even most small hotels and pensions required cash. But it's not safe to carry large quantities of cash around because of thieves and pickpockets which means you must cash checks frequently.
When you convert US cash, you always lose money in the exchange because the banks give you a lower rate. And don't even try to convert at one of those currency exchange booths on the streets, they give even a lower rate. Going to the bank used to be really frustrating because they never would keep the business hours promised. Even when the sign said they would be closed from noon to 2:00PM, you could stand in line until 3:00PM and later, wasting half a day's sightseeing just to get some badly needed cash. One time John had been standing in line for so long for the train station bank to open that he got in a fight with a guy who tried to cut in front of him. It's no fun to stand in any line in Italy because they all just push right past you, no matter how big you are.
Traveler's checks were a bit easier to use because you could cash them just about anywhere but get the best rate at the American Express office which stayed open all day. We were almost out of cash one afternoon while at the Spanish Steps so we went to the American Express office to cash a traveler's check. Of course, there was a long line. There always was a long line. It also moved very slowly for reasons unknown but I imagine a language barrier had something to do with it.
Eventually we made slow progress towards the front of the line. I think we were about 4th from the front when John informed me he couldn't hold it any longer. In fact, he was in agony he'd been holding it so long. I told him to go do his business and I'd hold his place in line. Our the door he ran. I hoped he found a bar or pizzeria nearby to use.
About 10 minutes later a very red faced John came back and said he'd had no luck at all finding a place and the American Express guy overheard him. He suggested John try MacDonald's just down the street. He gave John directions and off he went in a flash. When I finally caught up at the MacDonald's I was pleasantly surprised to find it enormous with a very large restroom facility. There was a line but lots of stalls and very little waiting. I was relieved to find this and hoped that John had made it in time.
When I came out I saw him smiling on the street and we sang a little "Life Is Worth Living Again". He was also impressed with MacDonald's restrooms and said MacDonald's saved his life. I have since read about this MacDonald's in travel guide books and thought at the time, I wish I'd had that information before John ran out the door that day.
Since that particular trip I have paid a lot more attention to such minor details as this. I know where the toilets are in major museums before I enter the door. I make sure a long distance bus or train we will be on has a toilet. And I practice the art of entering a bar and knowing right where to go to find the toilet as if I belong there. Fancy hotels are also a good place to find nice toilets. I even found a toilet for John on top of the Palatine Hill on another trip right inside of Augustus's Palace. That one was a real surprise.
When planning your next or first trip to Europe or anywhere, find out about the toilets. Do they have seats or do you have to stand? Do they require coins? Do they have toilet paper or must you bring your own? We carried toilet paper for years and still do just in case. It's all in knowing the little details before hand which will enrich your experience and I recommend taking the extra time to find these things out. You can thank me later.
Ciao
This is just a funny little story of another painful episode for my husband which took place once in Rome. Unlike the last painful incident I told you about, this time we were on foot in the middle of a huge city and it should not have been as difficult to find a toilet as it was on the road. If there's one thing I have learned from all our years of travel to Europe, it's always know where the toilets are. This knowledge will save your trip besides making it a lot more pleasant.
Back in the day before ATM machines were common in Europe, we were way ahead of Europe in that respect, people used to have to carry traveler' checks or exchange US dollars at a bank. Both methods were a real pain in the backside but traveler's checks were slightly better.
Almost everything in those days was cash only as well. The museums and other sights, inexpensive osterias and pizzerias, public transportation and even most small hotels and pensions required cash. But it's not safe to carry large quantities of cash around because of thieves and pickpockets which means you must cash checks frequently.
When you convert US cash, you always lose money in the exchange because the banks give you a lower rate. And don't even try to convert at one of those currency exchange booths on the streets, they give even a lower rate. Going to the bank used to be really frustrating because they never would keep the business hours promised. Even when the sign said they would be closed from noon to 2:00PM, you could stand in line until 3:00PM and later, wasting half a day's sightseeing just to get some badly needed cash. One time John had been standing in line for so long for the train station bank to open that he got in a fight with a guy who tried to cut in front of him. It's no fun to stand in any line in Italy because they all just push right past you, no matter how big you are.
Traveler's checks were a bit easier to use because you could cash them just about anywhere but get the best rate at the American Express office which stayed open all day. We were almost out of cash one afternoon while at the Spanish Steps so we went to the American Express office to cash a traveler's check. Of course, there was a long line. There always was a long line. It also moved very slowly for reasons unknown but I imagine a language barrier had something to do with it.
Eventually we made slow progress towards the front of the line. I think we were about 4th from the front when John informed me he couldn't hold it any longer. In fact, he was in agony he'd been holding it so long. I told him to go do his business and I'd hold his place in line. Our the door he ran. I hoped he found a bar or pizzeria nearby to use.
About 10 minutes later a very red faced John came back and said he'd had no luck at all finding a place and the American Express guy overheard him. He suggested John try MacDonald's just down the street. He gave John directions and off he went in a flash. When I finally caught up at the MacDonald's I was pleasantly surprised to find it enormous with a very large restroom facility. There was a line but lots of stalls and very little waiting. I was relieved to find this and hoped that John had made it in time.
When I came out I saw him smiling on the street and we sang a little "Life Is Worth Living Again". He was also impressed with MacDonald's restrooms and said MacDonald's saved his life. I have since read about this MacDonald's in travel guide books and thought at the time, I wish I'd had that information before John ran out the door that day.
Since that particular trip I have paid a lot more attention to such minor details as this. I know where the toilets are in major museums before I enter the door. I make sure a long distance bus or train we will be on has a toilet. And I practice the art of entering a bar and knowing right where to go to find the toilet as if I belong there. Fancy hotels are also a good place to find nice toilets. I even found a toilet for John on top of the Palatine Hill on another trip right inside of Augustus's Palace. That one was a real surprise.
When planning your next or first trip to Europe or anywhere, find out about the toilets. Do they have seats or do you have to stand? Do they require coins? Do they have toilet paper or must you bring your own? We carried toilet paper for years and still do just in case. It's all in knowing the little details before hand which will enrich your experience and I recommend taking the extra time to find these things out. You can thank me later.
Ciao
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Falling Down in Europe and Other Places - Chapter II Lake Lugano
Dear Reader,
Here's a story I like about another of John's great falls and you'll be glad to know no one was hurt. We had been traveling through Switzerland by car and then south into Northern Italy to see one of the beautiful lakes, Lake Lugano. Lake Lugano is very close to the swiss border. There are green mountains in the distance in the summertime and covered in snow in the winter. We were there in the early fall and it was beautiful and balmy weather.
Once we found a parking place we headed over to the water front to check it out. It is a very lovely place and quite formal in the way the landed gentry used to vacation on the Italian lakes during the grand tour in the late 19th century. There was a stone boardwalk along the lake's edge and across the street were old fashioned and very elegant looking restaurants and bars and tea shops. It almost seemed like an English scene rather than Italian, but then again, the English have always favored such spots for their vacations and have some influence.
Couples were out strolling arm and arm dressed up in suits and elegant gowns. Women sparkled with diamonds and wore large stylish hats to protect them from the sun along with their expensive designer sunglasses. John and I had already been on the road for over a week and were a little worn for wear. The weather was warm but not shorts weather so we were both wearing blue jeans and polo shirts and tennis shoes. I was beginning to feel a little out of place in this elegant city. We decided to just take a look at the lake, have lunch and leave.
The lake is quite large and very blue with a current causing visible waves. Swans were floating around on the surface everywhere looking so serene and special. You could tell they belong there. John took lots of pictures as we walked around until we reached the end of the walk where the boat ramp is. This boat ramp looked really old. It was made of stone and completely green from the moss or algae on it.
John and I had been pondering upon the water temperature trying to guess what it might be. This is something we often do when one of us is leading up to challenge the other to try something stupid. This time, I think John wanted to try something stupid because when I dared him to touch the water he headed for the boat ramp without hesitation. I realized he was really going to do it, at least get close enough to touch the water with his hands. I also realized he was still holding the camera so I yelled at him to stop and hand it over to me. With a very cocky attitude, he turned around and said "What do you think I'm going to do, Falllllllaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" as his feet slipped out from under him and he slid on his butt down the ramp up to his waist in water. This was too funny. Once I realized John was alright and so was the camera which I grabbed just as he started to fall, I started to laugh uncontrollably. I helped him stand up and he came sludging out of the water, tennis shoes squeeking, jeans hanging to the ground soaking wet. It was funny, really funny.
He started to walk away and I noticed that his entire back side was slime green from the algae. This was more than I could stand. I howled and laughed and so did he until we had to grab each other so as not to fall down from the effort. I started to tease him about how stylish he was in his wet jeans with the green butt and squeeky shoes. Every step was squish squish squish. It was just too funny. Then we noticed people were staring at us and not in a good way. Their expressions were harsh and disapproving and made us feel uncomfortable. It was if we had sneaked into a private country club and then broken all of their rules.
Well, as John and I like to say, "We've been thrown out of worse places than this" a backwards insult and we know when we aren't wanted so we walked straight to the car where John took his wet jeans off before getting inside, hopefully this distured a few snobs as well, and we left Lugano in the dust for greener pastures. And we did. We found many lovely and delightful places on that vacation and met many nice people. It just goes to show you not to judge people by one person or by one place. People are different and the same everywhere. Get to know them first before judging them. The people of Lugano missed out on a very charming and funny couple of Americans that day. Their loss.
Arivederci
Here's a story I like about another of John's great falls and you'll be glad to know no one was hurt. We had been traveling through Switzerland by car and then south into Northern Italy to see one of the beautiful lakes, Lake Lugano. Lake Lugano is very close to the swiss border. There are green mountains in the distance in the summertime and covered in snow in the winter. We were there in the early fall and it was beautiful and balmy weather.
Once we found a parking place we headed over to the water front to check it out. It is a very lovely place and quite formal in the way the landed gentry used to vacation on the Italian lakes during the grand tour in the late 19th century. There was a stone boardwalk along the lake's edge and across the street were old fashioned and very elegant looking restaurants and bars and tea shops. It almost seemed like an English scene rather than Italian, but then again, the English have always favored such spots for their vacations and have some influence.
Couples were out strolling arm and arm dressed up in suits and elegant gowns. Women sparkled with diamonds and wore large stylish hats to protect them from the sun along with their expensive designer sunglasses. John and I had already been on the road for over a week and were a little worn for wear. The weather was warm but not shorts weather so we were both wearing blue jeans and polo shirts and tennis shoes. I was beginning to feel a little out of place in this elegant city. We decided to just take a look at the lake, have lunch and leave.
The lake is quite large and very blue with a current causing visible waves. Swans were floating around on the surface everywhere looking so serene and special. You could tell they belong there. John took lots of pictures as we walked around until we reached the end of the walk where the boat ramp is. This boat ramp looked really old. It was made of stone and completely green from the moss or algae on it.
John and I had been pondering upon the water temperature trying to guess what it might be. This is something we often do when one of us is leading up to challenge the other to try something stupid. This time, I think John wanted to try something stupid because when I dared him to touch the water he headed for the boat ramp without hesitation. I realized he was really going to do it, at least get close enough to touch the water with his hands. I also realized he was still holding the camera so I yelled at him to stop and hand it over to me. With a very cocky attitude, he turned around and said "What do you think I'm going to do, Falllllllaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww" as his feet slipped out from under him and he slid on his butt down the ramp up to his waist in water. This was too funny. Once I realized John was alright and so was the camera which I grabbed just as he started to fall, I started to laugh uncontrollably. I helped him stand up and he came sludging out of the water, tennis shoes squeeking, jeans hanging to the ground soaking wet. It was funny, really funny.
He started to walk away and I noticed that his entire back side was slime green from the algae. This was more than I could stand. I howled and laughed and so did he until we had to grab each other so as not to fall down from the effort. I started to tease him about how stylish he was in his wet jeans with the green butt and squeeky shoes. Every step was squish squish squish. It was just too funny. Then we noticed people were staring at us and not in a good way. Their expressions were harsh and disapproving and made us feel uncomfortable. It was if we had sneaked into a private country club and then broken all of their rules.
Well, as John and I like to say, "We've been thrown out of worse places than this" a backwards insult and we know when we aren't wanted so we walked straight to the car where John took his wet jeans off before getting inside, hopefully this distured a few snobs as well, and we left Lugano in the dust for greener pastures. And we did. We found many lovely and delightful places on that vacation and met many nice people. It just goes to show you not to judge people by one person or by one place. People are different and the same everywhere. Get to know them first before judging them. The people of Lugano missed out on a very charming and funny couple of Americans that day. Their loss.
Arivederci
Friday, March 25, 2011
I'd Rather be in Greece than have Chemotherapy
Dear Reader,
My husband thinks I should mention to you all that my love for travel exceeds even any concern for my health. I don't know if I'd put it exactly like that but I guess in some ways he's right. It didn't even cross my mind at the time but I was diagnosed with breast cancer three years ago in January. Even though this is really scary, my first thought was "what about our trip to Greece in May?". It was to be our first visit to Greece and I was very excited about it so the news in that respect was devastating. All I could think about was to get past this thing so I could make my trip.
We had booked a 7 day Greece/Turkey cruise out of Piraeus, Greece, the port city for Athens. John had been worried about taking too much time from work at that time so rather than our usual three week vacation, we simply added an additional 8 days to tour around the Peleponese in Greece prior to the cruise. Still, it was a lot of hard work planning and trying to find decently priced accomodations in Athens and a rental car in Corinthos and how to tour Istanbul and Ephesus, Turkey and the whole thing.
I had already put a great deal of work into the vacation when I got the bad news. The tourism websites for Greece and Turkey aren't very good. They leave out very important details and information that a tourist needs to know before hand and this made the planning even more difficult than usual. And then there's the language barrier. I've always been able to get by with my French, Italian and Spanish. In Germany and the Netherlands a lot of people speak English so it's usually not a real issue but in Greece, what an unsual language! And Turkish, well it was all Greek to me.
The doctors said they would have to operate to remove tumor, which I expected, and also some lymph nodes to check to see if the cancer had spread. All I could do was to press them to hurry up and set a date for surgery so I could start treatment. By the end of February I managed to get my first operation out of the way but had some bad news. I had cancer in one of my lymph nodes which meant my cancer went up from stage I to stage II. It's kind of like getting a bad grade. In situ is like getting an A. Stage I is a B but when you get beyond Stage I, Stages II, III and IV, you're in serious trouble and will most likely die. That's what they don't want to say to you but you read it in their eyes and by their recommendations.
Because of the cancer found in my lymph nodes, my surgeon said he would have to operate again and remove more lymph nodes and more tissue just to be safe. He was very positive that he would not find any more cancer and convinced me it was just a precaution requested by the lab. I was fine with that and it was reassuring at the same time. So once again I had to push to get the second surgery moved up without a three week delay.
After the second surgery which took place at the end of February, I was ready to talk treatment with my new oncologist. She's not a very personable doctor, very cold and clinical and showed me charts and graphs about my prospects. She said without chemotherapy my chances of survival were about 30% but with my chances rose to about 70%. Then she recommended radiation therapy to follow.
I didn't want to go through chemotherapy for obvious reasons, the illness, the pain and the hair loss but she made it clear that there wasn't really a choice and who would sacrifice life for a great head of hair? It's hard to say but having had a great head of hair, it is what you are. My fabulous rich thick curly hair which had never been dyed or permed, was very special to me. I did not want to lose it. My doctor had no sympathy whatsoever so I went along with the program and agreed to the 16 weeks of chemotherapy, though I lived in dread of this treatment.
Then after all of that convincing, the chemo kept being delayed. I was anxious to start it right away to get it over with but this required phone call after phone call begging to get an appointment to start my torture with no results. Finally my oncologist said she must have an echocardiogram which is an invasive test where a tube is inserted into the arteries and radioactive dye is added. This is supposed to determine how strong my heart is. I refused to have the test. It was too invasive. This is the right of the patient. I asked my oncologist what she would do if I refused, refuse to give me the chemotherapy treatments that I needed? She then advised she would settle for a electrocardiogram which is similar to a sonogram, sort of. I agreed to this test and had to drive all the way to Folsom, Ca. for the test. It went fine and my heart is plenty strong. So there were no further obsticals to starting chemotherapy. Then it was a matter of my calling every day and pushing for an appointment. This was not something I wanted to do but I could see no way around it so might as well get it started as soon as possible so it can end.
The treatment can be long depending upon the medication or poison they give you. I was on two poisons at once for the first four weeks and then only one poison for the last four weeks. My first series of poisons for the first four weeks took approximately 2 1/2 hours total. But right before each treatment, they would have to draw my blood to test my white blood cell count to see if it was high enough to fight germs.If not, they wouldn't give me the chemotherapy.My first treatment went well and I was lucky to have my sister with me to keep me company and talk about all kinds of things. She also would bring me drinks and snacks that people brought in. The first drip they gave me wasn't too bad. It took awhile to finish but was fairly mild. But then they'd come with the Andriamiacide which is a very serious poison and shoot a giant syrnge into my IV all at once. I could feel it burn in my veins as it spread throughout my body. It was pink in color and also makes you pee pink.
I was violently ill after the first treatment until my doctor called in a prescripton for Emends. This pill really works. There are only three pills you take; one the day before chemo, one the day of chemo and one the day after chemo, and I never got sick again! It's great stuff though very expensive. It's definitely worth it. There were lots of side effects from these drugs that I had no control over but at least the nausea was gone. I still couldn't taste any flavor at all from food. The skin inside my mouth all peeled away. Nothing sounded good to eat except a chocolate milkshake and saltine crackers. Could a person feeling this way fly off to Greece for almost 3 weeks? Why not? Just reading about Greek food made me hungry and seemed like a cure to me.
John was going to his annual conference in April and that year it was in New Orleans. We love New Orleans and even though we go every year, who could miss out on an entire week in a luxury hotel? So I had already bought my ticket to accompany him. I told my doctor I was going to New Orleans after only 2 weeks of chemo and she just stared at me like I was crazy. She had already done a good enough job of making me feel crazy by that point that I didn't care one way or the other. I was going. And I did. I was tired and didn't feel much like doing a lot of excercise but I really enjoyed the room with a great view and reading by the window and sitting by the rooftop pool. These are things I rarely get to do when traveling. There's so much to see. I also went shopping for warmer clothes because it was a bit colder than usual but it was a laid back week and very pleasant.
When I told my oncologist about my Greek trip she would not give me the go ahead. All she would say was "This is cancer we are dealing with, you know." I knew that. She also warned me that my white cell blood count is low from the chemo which makes me supseptible to germs and diseases. The Neulasta shot received the day after chemo was supposed to boost my white cell count but was it enough? I finally asked her what would happen if I were gone for three weeks, missing one session. She hesitated to say and just said that treatments used to be every three weeks before they discovered the neulasta shot which enables the white blood cell count to return to normal faster allowing chemotherapy treatments every other week rather than every three weeks. This shot, by the way, is no doubt the most painful shot I've ever had in the arm. It takes a good ten minutes to administer and the liquid burns going in and through the veins the entire time. This certainly must have a worthwhile purpose.
So as I understood it, in the past I would have treated every three weeks rather than every other week until the invention of the neulasta shot. This gave me the security that I needed to know that it would be safe to be away for three weeks.What did I care if it took an extra week to finish? I would not allow this treatment to destroy my life and my plans so I told her I was going to Greece and would pick up where I left off. I was very determined to go to Greece and took precautions against diseases. I wore a mask on the flight and used wet wipes to wipe down the arm rests, seats, tray tables and call buttons on the aircrafts we flew. After that I wore gloves all the way to Europe. They were not going to say "I told you so".
I went to Greece without her blessing prepared with my wet wipes and gloves and masks and listerine and actually had a pleasant flight. There was no nausea all day and no other symptoms of chemotherapy. We were awake all night to get to London and had two more planes to catch in order to reach Athens but we missed our Swissair flight to Zurich which connected to Athens due to ground control at Heathrow Airport so we had a few hours wait and flew directly to Athens on British Airways. It was a rather rough start but it didn't bother me at all. This was all pretty normal stuff and not being sick made it actually fun.
We went on to have a terrific time in Greece and saw many ancient sights, beautiful islands, the great city of Istanbul and met a lot of interesting people. I would not have missed that vacation for anything in the world. It was a pure escape and very enjoyable. I didn't feel sick at all. John didn't fall down or anything but we did get terribly lost in the mountains of the Peleponnese and had a long and scary hairpin drive through very high mountains with goats leaping onto the road in front of us and a sheer cliff to one side. If we hadn't been so scared, I would have gotten some nice pictures.
By this time I had lost all of my hair and had to wear a wig for the duration of the trip,which was hot. In Turkey I dressed native in a long black skirt with a black scarf around my head and was able to get into the Mosques without question so I did not feel disabled in any way. I ate whatever I wanted and drank whatever I wanted and felt completely normal.
In July we flew to Ontario, California to visit my cousin's family as we do every summer. I was really looking forward to it that year because they were so supportive from the moment they knew about the cancer. I can't describe how good it felt to hear from them on a daily basis and the research and work they put into learning about the disease and the treatments. We had a wonderful and laid back weekend. I was worried about them seeing me bald and wore a hat in their swimming pool but finally I just took it off and dove in. No one said a word or thought I looked strange. It was a very happy time for me.
When we got back home, I resumed my chemotherapy and finished the last 8 weeks and then pushed hard to start raditaion therapy right away to get it over with before our scuba trip to Belize. Radiation lasted for 7 weeks, 5 days per week but my other oncologist thought it was a good idea for me to break it up so I went with John to Washington DC to his annual conference after the 4th week of treatment. This was not a problem and I truly believe that nothing I did that spring and summer caused any problems with my treatments. It was great to see our friends in DC and have a lot of laughs and do things like normal people who don't have cancer. We drank a lot and had great food. It was my chicken soup for the soul.
We also went scuba diving in Belize that October after all my treatments were over. I was still bald but had a nice little fine fuzz on my head and didn't care what anyone thought. It was like going home again and the diving was perfect. I'm so glad I didn't give up these trips that bad year. If I had, it would have been just a bad year, but it wasn't because I had an adventure and also was with friends and family whom I wouldn't have seen otherwise and who helped me through the worst part of it.
It's hard to give advice to people you don't know about situations you don't understand. All I can say is that for me, staying at home being sick and only going out for treatments would have been torture and I believe the results would not have been positive. Because I did not allow my illness to prevent my search of adventure and pleasure, it did not prevail. And I think I've beat this thing. It's been three years since the cancer appeared and no new tumors have been found. This is a very positive thing. And if it does ever return, I'll just do the treatments all over again because I am not afraid. The only thing I fear is being housebound and bored out of my scull.
Thanks for reading this non-humorous story. I promise tomorrow to bring something quite amusing to my blog.
Good night, and good luck
My husband thinks I should mention to you all that my love for travel exceeds even any concern for my health. I don't know if I'd put it exactly like that but I guess in some ways he's right. It didn't even cross my mind at the time but I was diagnosed with breast cancer three years ago in January. Even though this is really scary, my first thought was "what about our trip to Greece in May?". It was to be our first visit to Greece and I was very excited about it so the news in that respect was devastating. All I could think about was to get past this thing so I could make my trip.
We had booked a 7 day Greece/Turkey cruise out of Piraeus, Greece, the port city for Athens. John had been worried about taking too much time from work at that time so rather than our usual three week vacation, we simply added an additional 8 days to tour around the Peleponese in Greece prior to the cruise. Still, it was a lot of hard work planning and trying to find decently priced accomodations in Athens and a rental car in Corinthos and how to tour Istanbul and Ephesus, Turkey and the whole thing.
I had already put a great deal of work into the vacation when I got the bad news. The tourism websites for Greece and Turkey aren't very good. They leave out very important details and information that a tourist needs to know before hand and this made the planning even more difficult than usual. And then there's the language barrier. I've always been able to get by with my French, Italian and Spanish. In Germany and the Netherlands a lot of people speak English so it's usually not a real issue but in Greece, what an unsual language! And Turkish, well it was all Greek to me.
The doctors said they would have to operate to remove tumor, which I expected, and also some lymph nodes to check to see if the cancer had spread. All I could do was to press them to hurry up and set a date for surgery so I could start treatment. By the end of February I managed to get my first operation out of the way but had some bad news. I had cancer in one of my lymph nodes which meant my cancer went up from stage I to stage II. It's kind of like getting a bad grade. In situ is like getting an A. Stage I is a B but when you get beyond Stage I, Stages II, III and IV, you're in serious trouble and will most likely die. That's what they don't want to say to you but you read it in their eyes and by their recommendations.
Because of the cancer found in my lymph nodes, my surgeon said he would have to operate again and remove more lymph nodes and more tissue just to be safe. He was very positive that he would not find any more cancer and convinced me it was just a precaution requested by the lab. I was fine with that and it was reassuring at the same time. So once again I had to push to get the second surgery moved up without a three week delay.
After the second surgery which took place at the end of February, I was ready to talk treatment with my new oncologist. She's not a very personable doctor, very cold and clinical and showed me charts and graphs about my prospects. She said without chemotherapy my chances of survival were about 30% but with my chances rose to about 70%. Then she recommended radiation therapy to follow.
I didn't want to go through chemotherapy for obvious reasons, the illness, the pain and the hair loss but she made it clear that there wasn't really a choice and who would sacrifice life for a great head of hair? It's hard to say but having had a great head of hair, it is what you are. My fabulous rich thick curly hair which had never been dyed or permed, was very special to me. I did not want to lose it. My doctor had no sympathy whatsoever so I went along with the program and agreed to the 16 weeks of chemotherapy, though I lived in dread of this treatment.
Then after all of that convincing, the chemo kept being delayed. I was anxious to start it right away to get it over with but this required phone call after phone call begging to get an appointment to start my torture with no results. Finally my oncologist said she must have an echocardiogram which is an invasive test where a tube is inserted into the arteries and radioactive dye is added. This is supposed to determine how strong my heart is. I refused to have the test. It was too invasive. This is the right of the patient. I asked my oncologist what she would do if I refused, refuse to give me the chemotherapy treatments that I needed? She then advised she would settle for a electrocardiogram which is similar to a sonogram, sort of. I agreed to this test and had to drive all the way to Folsom, Ca. for the test. It went fine and my heart is plenty strong. So there were no further obsticals to starting chemotherapy. Then it was a matter of my calling every day and pushing for an appointment. This was not something I wanted to do but I could see no way around it so might as well get it started as soon as possible so it can end.
The treatment can be long depending upon the medication or poison they give you. I was on two poisons at once for the first four weeks and then only one poison for the last four weeks. My first series of poisons for the first four weeks took approximately 2 1/2 hours total. But right before each treatment, they would have to draw my blood to test my white blood cell count to see if it was high enough to fight germs.If not, they wouldn't give me the chemotherapy.My first treatment went well and I was lucky to have my sister with me to keep me company and talk about all kinds of things. She also would bring me drinks and snacks that people brought in. The first drip they gave me wasn't too bad. It took awhile to finish but was fairly mild. But then they'd come with the Andriamiacide which is a very serious poison and shoot a giant syrnge into my IV all at once. I could feel it burn in my veins as it spread throughout my body. It was pink in color and also makes you pee pink.
I was violently ill after the first treatment until my doctor called in a prescripton for Emends. This pill really works. There are only three pills you take; one the day before chemo, one the day of chemo and one the day after chemo, and I never got sick again! It's great stuff though very expensive. It's definitely worth it. There were lots of side effects from these drugs that I had no control over but at least the nausea was gone. I still couldn't taste any flavor at all from food. The skin inside my mouth all peeled away. Nothing sounded good to eat except a chocolate milkshake and saltine crackers. Could a person feeling this way fly off to Greece for almost 3 weeks? Why not? Just reading about Greek food made me hungry and seemed like a cure to me.
John was going to his annual conference in April and that year it was in New Orleans. We love New Orleans and even though we go every year, who could miss out on an entire week in a luxury hotel? So I had already bought my ticket to accompany him. I told my doctor I was going to New Orleans after only 2 weeks of chemo and she just stared at me like I was crazy. She had already done a good enough job of making me feel crazy by that point that I didn't care one way or the other. I was going. And I did. I was tired and didn't feel much like doing a lot of excercise but I really enjoyed the room with a great view and reading by the window and sitting by the rooftop pool. These are things I rarely get to do when traveling. There's so much to see. I also went shopping for warmer clothes because it was a bit colder than usual but it was a laid back week and very pleasant.
When I told my oncologist about my Greek trip she would not give me the go ahead. All she would say was "This is cancer we are dealing with, you know." I knew that. She also warned me that my white cell blood count is low from the chemo which makes me supseptible to germs and diseases. The Neulasta shot received the day after chemo was supposed to boost my white cell count but was it enough? I finally asked her what would happen if I were gone for three weeks, missing one session. She hesitated to say and just said that treatments used to be every three weeks before they discovered the neulasta shot which enables the white blood cell count to return to normal faster allowing chemotherapy treatments every other week rather than every three weeks. This shot, by the way, is no doubt the most painful shot I've ever had in the arm. It takes a good ten minutes to administer and the liquid burns going in and through the veins the entire time. This certainly must have a worthwhile purpose.
So as I understood it, in the past I would have treated every three weeks rather than every other week until the invention of the neulasta shot. This gave me the security that I needed to know that it would be safe to be away for three weeks.What did I care if it took an extra week to finish? I would not allow this treatment to destroy my life and my plans so I told her I was going to Greece and would pick up where I left off. I was very determined to go to Greece and took precautions against diseases. I wore a mask on the flight and used wet wipes to wipe down the arm rests, seats, tray tables and call buttons on the aircrafts we flew. After that I wore gloves all the way to Europe. They were not going to say "I told you so".
I went to Greece without her blessing prepared with my wet wipes and gloves and masks and listerine and actually had a pleasant flight. There was no nausea all day and no other symptoms of chemotherapy. We were awake all night to get to London and had two more planes to catch in order to reach Athens but we missed our Swissair flight to Zurich which connected to Athens due to ground control at Heathrow Airport so we had a few hours wait and flew directly to Athens on British Airways. It was a rather rough start but it didn't bother me at all. This was all pretty normal stuff and not being sick made it actually fun.
We went on to have a terrific time in Greece and saw many ancient sights, beautiful islands, the great city of Istanbul and met a lot of interesting people. I would not have missed that vacation for anything in the world. It was a pure escape and very enjoyable. I didn't feel sick at all. John didn't fall down or anything but we did get terribly lost in the mountains of the Peleponnese and had a long and scary hairpin drive through very high mountains with goats leaping onto the road in front of us and a sheer cliff to one side. If we hadn't been so scared, I would have gotten some nice pictures.
By this time I had lost all of my hair and had to wear a wig for the duration of the trip,which was hot. In Turkey I dressed native in a long black skirt with a black scarf around my head and was able to get into the Mosques without question so I did not feel disabled in any way. I ate whatever I wanted and drank whatever I wanted and felt completely normal.
In July we flew to Ontario, California to visit my cousin's family as we do every summer. I was really looking forward to it that year because they were so supportive from the moment they knew about the cancer. I can't describe how good it felt to hear from them on a daily basis and the research and work they put into learning about the disease and the treatments. We had a wonderful and laid back weekend. I was worried about them seeing me bald and wore a hat in their swimming pool but finally I just took it off and dove in. No one said a word or thought I looked strange. It was a very happy time for me.
When we got back home, I resumed my chemotherapy and finished the last 8 weeks and then pushed hard to start raditaion therapy right away to get it over with before our scuba trip to Belize. Radiation lasted for 7 weeks, 5 days per week but my other oncologist thought it was a good idea for me to break it up so I went with John to Washington DC to his annual conference after the 4th week of treatment. This was not a problem and I truly believe that nothing I did that spring and summer caused any problems with my treatments. It was great to see our friends in DC and have a lot of laughs and do things like normal people who don't have cancer. We drank a lot and had great food. It was my chicken soup for the soul.
We also went scuba diving in Belize that October after all my treatments were over. I was still bald but had a nice little fine fuzz on my head and didn't care what anyone thought. It was like going home again and the diving was perfect. I'm so glad I didn't give up these trips that bad year. If I had, it would have been just a bad year, but it wasn't because I had an adventure and also was with friends and family whom I wouldn't have seen otherwise and who helped me through the worst part of it.
It's hard to give advice to people you don't know about situations you don't understand. All I can say is that for me, staying at home being sick and only going out for treatments would have been torture and I believe the results would not have been positive. Because I did not allow my illness to prevent my search of adventure and pleasure, it did not prevail. And I think I've beat this thing. It's been three years since the cancer appeared and no new tumors have been found. This is a very positive thing. And if it does ever return, I'll just do the treatments all over again because I am not afraid. The only thing I fear is being housebound and bored out of my scull.
Thanks for reading this non-humorous story. I promise tomorrow to bring something quite amusing to my blog.
Good night, and good luck
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Falling Down in Europe and Other Places - Chapter I
Dear Reader,
I'm sure at one time or another you've had a fall or at least tripped while traveling, which I know from personal experience can be embarassing but as long as no one gets hurt it can be laughed about later. My husband has certainly had his share of falls and other accidents on our travels and I've had a few myself lately. This was one of his worst.
We were up in Vancouver, Canada just being tourists but of course, being us, we had to find odd things to do. John and I had just finished a nice lunch and inspected some of the shops on a little island right in the middle of the city but the name escapes me at the moment. There are some nice pleasure boats docked there and some small manufacturers of sailing equipment and leather goods. It was interesting.
As we wandered away from the crowds we found a nice little park to relax in and there hanging from a very large tree was a rope swing. I love rope swings, always have. And it had been a long time since I'd been on one so I asked John if he would push me. It was a very long rope going way to the top of the tree and so high off the ground I had to make a running start to leap onto the knot at the bottom. Needless to say my feet didn't reach the ground at all so I had to depend on John to push me.
John said he would gladly push me and began to push harder and harder. The harder he pushed the more dangerously close I came to the tree trunk. I began to get a little scared but John only laughed and called me a whimp, that's one of the pet names we call each other. He was laughing and pushing harder and harder as I began to beg him to stop but he wouldn't. He just kept pushing me harder and each time bringing me closer to that tree trunk. John insisted there was no chance I would hit the tree but I couldn't help that feeling of doom. I began to yell at him to stop it but he didn't answer me so I kept swinging away.
After a few minutes passed I thought I heard a thump but couldn't turn to see what it might be. I was beginning to slow down now and was greatly relieved. I asked John if he would help me stop since I was unable to drag my feet but he didn't answer once again so I had to sit there and swing for awhile longer until I could jump off the rope.
When I did finally jump I didn't see John anywhere. I looked all around and he was nowhere to be found. I called his name and got no answer. This was way beyond his usual hijinks and I began to worry. I walked over to the edge of the lawn where there was a small cliff with about a 6 foot drop off to a gravel river bank. And there he was lying on his back stunned and dazed. Apparently, he had backed up too far while pushing me harder and stepped right off the cliff landing on his back.
Once I established that he was not unconscious and wasn't in any terrible pain, just a bruised ego mainly, I helped brush him off and we climbed back into the park. As he stumbled along I was picking weeds and gravel off of his clothes and then we both started to laugh. It was pretty darned funny that he fell off a cliff because he was being mean to me and got his comeuppance almost immediately. This was that kind of laughter you have after some fright or something scary has happened and it's a relief that everything is alright.
We both plopped onto the ground and just started rolling and laughing uncontrollably. Passersby would stare at us while we laughed and laughed but we didn't care. We were just happy to be there. Younger couples were making out in the bushes and had to leave because our laughter was just too disturbing. It seemed like just another typical travel day.
A month later John woke up and his arm had gone completely numb and he had lost all feeling in it. He was also experiencing severe back pain. This went on for at least a month before he saw a doctor and then had X-rays and saw a specialist who told John he had an herniated disc. This is pretty serious and the surgery can be worse than the pain so John went through painful physical therapy instead which did eventually help.
His doctor asked John if he'd been in an auto accident but John said no. So he asked John if he had had a bad fall or any other type of accident but John couldn't think of any at all. He guessed that perhaps he had injured himself playing basketball with my nephew and his friend, Hoss. John said they were pretty rough. The doctor didn't believe it. He advised that an injury of this nature would require a major impact directly to the spine. We were out of ideas.
One evening perhaps three or four months later, my sister and a friend were having dinner at our place. We had been regaling them with some of our funnier travel stories when my sister interjected "Tell her about John falling off the cliff and the rope swing." She said that one's hilarious to her friend. So John started to tell his version were he wasn't really being mean to me at all so I had to interject how scared I was and then suddenly we both stopped dumbfounded realizing simultaneously that this was the accident which had caused his back injury! It was a ridiculous moment because it was so obvious. Then we had to explain the whole thing to my sister's friend why we didn't know what caused his injury and that the incident had completely slipped our minds. Or maybe our brains had slipped our minds?
John's back will never be the same again but he is doing much better and keeping up his excercises. I feel that there is a lesson to be learned from this episode. If you tease someone to the point of all distraction, it may just come back and bite you in the butt. Lesson learned? I don't think so.
Until next time,
I'm sure at one time or another you've had a fall or at least tripped while traveling, which I know from personal experience can be embarassing but as long as no one gets hurt it can be laughed about later. My husband has certainly had his share of falls and other accidents on our travels and I've had a few myself lately. This was one of his worst.
We were up in Vancouver, Canada just being tourists but of course, being us, we had to find odd things to do. John and I had just finished a nice lunch and inspected some of the shops on a little island right in the middle of the city but the name escapes me at the moment. There are some nice pleasure boats docked there and some small manufacturers of sailing equipment and leather goods. It was interesting.
As we wandered away from the crowds we found a nice little park to relax in and there hanging from a very large tree was a rope swing. I love rope swings, always have. And it had been a long time since I'd been on one so I asked John if he would push me. It was a very long rope going way to the top of the tree and so high off the ground I had to make a running start to leap onto the knot at the bottom. Needless to say my feet didn't reach the ground at all so I had to depend on John to push me.
John said he would gladly push me and began to push harder and harder. The harder he pushed the more dangerously close I came to the tree trunk. I began to get a little scared but John only laughed and called me a whimp, that's one of the pet names we call each other. He was laughing and pushing harder and harder as I began to beg him to stop but he wouldn't. He just kept pushing me harder and each time bringing me closer to that tree trunk. John insisted there was no chance I would hit the tree but I couldn't help that feeling of doom. I began to yell at him to stop it but he didn't answer me so I kept swinging away.
After a few minutes passed I thought I heard a thump but couldn't turn to see what it might be. I was beginning to slow down now and was greatly relieved. I asked John if he would help me stop since I was unable to drag my feet but he didn't answer once again so I had to sit there and swing for awhile longer until I could jump off the rope.
When I did finally jump I didn't see John anywhere. I looked all around and he was nowhere to be found. I called his name and got no answer. This was way beyond his usual hijinks and I began to worry. I walked over to the edge of the lawn where there was a small cliff with about a 6 foot drop off to a gravel river bank. And there he was lying on his back stunned and dazed. Apparently, he had backed up too far while pushing me harder and stepped right off the cliff landing on his back.
Once I established that he was not unconscious and wasn't in any terrible pain, just a bruised ego mainly, I helped brush him off and we climbed back into the park. As he stumbled along I was picking weeds and gravel off of his clothes and then we both started to laugh. It was pretty darned funny that he fell off a cliff because he was being mean to me and got his comeuppance almost immediately. This was that kind of laughter you have after some fright or something scary has happened and it's a relief that everything is alright.
We both plopped onto the ground and just started rolling and laughing uncontrollably. Passersby would stare at us while we laughed and laughed but we didn't care. We were just happy to be there. Younger couples were making out in the bushes and had to leave because our laughter was just too disturbing. It seemed like just another typical travel day.
A month later John woke up and his arm had gone completely numb and he had lost all feeling in it. He was also experiencing severe back pain. This went on for at least a month before he saw a doctor and then had X-rays and saw a specialist who told John he had an herniated disc. This is pretty serious and the surgery can be worse than the pain so John went through painful physical therapy instead which did eventually help.
His doctor asked John if he'd been in an auto accident but John said no. So he asked John if he had had a bad fall or any other type of accident but John couldn't think of any at all. He guessed that perhaps he had injured himself playing basketball with my nephew and his friend, Hoss. John said they were pretty rough. The doctor didn't believe it. He advised that an injury of this nature would require a major impact directly to the spine. We were out of ideas.
One evening perhaps three or four months later, my sister and a friend were having dinner at our place. We had been regaling them with some of our funnier travel stories when my sister interjected "Tell her about John falling off the cliff and the rope swing." She said that one's hilarious to her friend. So John started to tell his version were he wasn't really being mean to me at all so I had to interject how scared I was and then suddenly we both stopped dumbfounded realizing simultaneously that this was the accident which had caused his back injury! It was a ridiculous moment because it was so obvious. Then we had to explain the whole thing to my sister's friend why we didn't know what caused his injury and that the incident had completely slipped our minds. Or maybe our brains had slipped our minds?
John's back will never be the same again but he is doing much better and keeping up his excercises. I feel that there is a lesson to be learned from this episode. If you tease someone to the point of all distraction, it may just come back and bite you in the butt. Lesson learned? I don't think so.
Until next time,
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Those Cornish People are So Good Looking!
Dear Reader,
Have you ever traveled somewhere and discovered something uniquely unusual about the people such as a common facial feature or unusual height? At first you don't realize what it is and then suddenly it comes to you, "Wow, everyone here is so tall!".
On a trip to Cornwall, England we made the same discovery about the people there. John and I had been in Cornwall for a few days seeing the rustic beauty of the cliffs and coastline when we arrived in the small town of Tintagel. This is a famous place in Great Britain because of the legend of King Arthur and Camelot. Tintagel claims that the castle is there on a rocky island connected by a very narrow penninsula. There are lots of myths and legends around Tintagel and the place has a very mystical feel to it.
On our first night in Tintagel we went to the local pub for a beer and it was really rocking. There was a great rock band playing and young people drinking and dancing. At first I noticed that many of them were tatooed and pierced and had wild hair in various primary colors such as chartreuse green and styled with spikes up the middle. These are working class people, truck drivers, farmers, laborers, but they sure can party. And once you get past the hair and tatoos, it dawned on John and I at almost the same time how good looking they are. Every single person in that pub was nice looking. It was downright strange.
After the pub that evening while walking back to our B&B we both commented on how good looking everyone we had seen in Cornwall is. We scratched our heads and pondered on this for a few days as we continued to drive around Cornwall and came up with the following theory. The Cornish people claim they have never been conquered by outsiders. When the Saxons invaded England they stopped at the Cornish border and agreed not to cross it. Later when William the Conquerer came over from France, he didn't conquer Cornwall either. I believe that the Romans never conquered Cornwall either. I guess it's just too cool and windy for them and doesn't produce all the much?
I'm not really sure of the answer but if it's true, it seems plausible that these people have not blended much with other races and come from a really good looking ancestry! Whatever the reason, Cornwall is really special and so are the people. They are friendly, abrupt and straight forward, hardworking, weather worn people with extraordinary good looks!
Later we visited the very popular tourist destination for the English of St. Ives. It's a very attractive seaside city with a beach and has that old 19th century tourist destination feel to it. I realized that day that I had not had a Cornish Pasty yet while we were in Cornwall. If you've never had a Cornish Pasty, it's a wonderful combination of ground meat and God knows what with some potato and spices cooked inside a delightful fluffy pastry which comes wrapped in paper and you eat by hand. At the first pasty stand I bought my Cornish Pasty and we proceeded to take a nice stroll on the beach. Overhead I kept seeing shadows swooping and the caw caw of seagulls all around. I was afraid that one of them was going to poop on me but I had no idea what was about to happen. As I brought the pasty towards my mouth for my second bite, a seagull swooped down practically right on top of my head and grabbed it out of my hand! I was so despondent over losing that delicious treat and went chasing after the bird like an idiot. John laughed so hard he said we had to leave so I didn't get another one.
We also visited Lands End, which, as you might guess is the western most point in all of Great Britain so you have to go there and climb out onto the end of the cliff. On the other side of Cornwall facing the English channel is the city of Falmouth, which we visited in honor of my dad who came from the namesake, Falmouth, Kentucky. Plymouth is also in Cornwall and was, as you should know, the launch point for the pilgrims who first settled in America.
It was all very interesting trip and I recommend traveling to the out of the way places such as Cornwall because you get away from the crowds and you get to meet real people and truly learn about them and their way of life as well as their past. And who knows, maybe if you go there you might just ask them why they are all so handsome.
Cheers,
Have you ever traveled somewhere and discovered something uniquely unusual about the people such as a common facial feature or unusual height? At first you don't realize what it is and then suddenly it comes to you, "Wow, everyone here is so tall!".
On a trip to Cornwall, England we made the same discovery about the people there. John and I had been in Cornwall for a few days seeing the rustic beauty of the cliffs and coastline when we arrived in the small town of Tintagel. This is a famous place in Great Britain because of the legend of King Arthur and Camelot. Tintagel claims that the castle is there on a rocky island connected by a very narrow penninsula. There are lots of myths and legends around Tintagel and the place has a very mystical feel to it.
On our first night in Tintagel we went to the local pub for a beer and it was really rocking. There was a great rock band playing and young people drinking and dancing. At first I noticed that many of them were tatooed and pierced and had wild hair in various primary colors such as chartreuse green and styled with spikes up the middle. These are working class people, truck drivers, farmers, laborers, but they sure can party. And once you get past the hair and tatoos, it dawned on John and I at almost the same time how good looking they are. Every single person in that pub was nice looking. It was downright strange.
After the pub that evening while walking back to our B&B we both commented on how good looking everyone we had seen in Cornwall is. We scratched our heads and pondered on this for a few days as we continued to drive around Cornwall and came up with the following theory. The Cornish people claim they have never been conquered by outsiders. When the Saxons invaded England they stopped at the Cornish border and agreed not to cross it. Later when William the Conquerer came over from France, he didn't conquer Cornwall either. I believe that the Romans never conquered Cornwall either. I guess it's just too cool and windy for them and doesn't produce all the much?
I'm not really sure of the answer but if it's true, it seems plausible that these people have not blended much with other races and come from a really good looking ancestry! Whatever the reason, Cornwall is really special and so are the people. They are friendly, abrupt and straight forward, hardworking, weather worn people with extraordinary good looks!
Later we visited the very popular tourist destination for the English of St. Ives. It's a very attractive seaside city with a beach and has that old 19th century tourist destination feel to it. I realized that day that I had not had a Cornish Pasty yet while we were in Cornwall. If you've never had a Cornish Pasty, it's a wonderful combination of ground meat and God knows what with some potato and spices cooked inside a delightful fluffy pastry which comes wrapped in paper and you eat by hand. At the first pasty stand I bought my Cornish Pasty and we proceeded to take a nice stroll on the beach. Overhead I kept seeing shadows swooping and the caw caw of seagulls all around. I was afraid that one of them was going to poop on me but I had no idea what was about to happen. As I brought the pasty towards my mouth for my second bite, a seagull swooped down practically right on top of my head and grabbed it out of my hand! I was so despondent over losing that delicious treat and went chasing after the bird like an idiot. John laughed so hard he said we had to leave so I didn't get another one.
We also visited Lands End, which, as you might guess is the western most point in all of Great Britain so you have to go there and climb out onto the end of the cliff. On the other side of Cornwall facing the English channel is the city of Falmouth, which we visited in honor of my dad who came from the namesake, Falmouth, Kentucky. Plymouth is also in Cornwall and was, as you should know, the launch point for the pilgrims who first settled in America.
It was all very interesting trip and I recommend traveling to the out of the way places such as Cornwall because you get away from the crowds and you get to meet real people and truly learn about them and their way of life as well as their past. And who knows, maybe if you go there you might just ask them why they are all so handsome.
Cheers,
Wet and Freezing in Granada
Dear Reader,
Our first trip to Spain was quite an adventure. One loaded with many stories and downright hilarious incidents. I made many mistakes in the planning of that trip. Mainly decided to tour the country by car, and I mean tour the entire country! It is vast and empty in most parts except the five major cities but when you get in those cities driving is the craziest I've ever seen anywhere. The reason I chose an auto was that there were no high speed trains in Spain back then and I wanted to see many beauties along the way.
Of all the sights in Spain, Granada had always been number one on my list. My mom told me about Granada and the empire of the Moors and their stunning palace, the Alhambra sitting high upon a pinacle. I had envisioned it a thousand and one times just like the tales of the Arabian Knights. We were definitely going to Granada!
The other mistake I made was by not booking any rooms in advance. We used to travel all over Europe that way. I would bring my list of cheap accomodations for each destination and we would go door to door requesting a room until we found one. It had worked fairly well in the past and even elsewhere in Spain but we were finally out of luck when we reached Granada.
We had been to Morocco by ferry and driven up from Malaga on the coast that day. It was balmy and warm on the coast. Granada is only about two to three hours by car yet due to it's location and elevation it is a completely different climate zone. We arrived after dark and once parked we set off on foot to look for a place to stay. Almost immediately it began to rain. We had no rain gear with us and were woefully unprepared.
The first three places we tried were completely full. This was rather unusual so after the fourth place I asked if they could suggest a place for us to stay. This is when we found out about the fete. What fete? I didn't know about any fete. Apparently it was a huge fete bringing thousands of people to Granada from all over southern Spain. Every room in Granada was booked. Even the five star hotel we checked in desperation.
By this time we were quite soaked and cold and frustrated so we went into a cozy bar for a drink and had some hot soup. John and I discussed our options. We could keep driving until we got somewhere but where? There is hardly anything at all between Granada in the mountains and our next destination of Toledo way up on the plain far north. Just emptyness. It seemed a hopeless situation and I was not leaving until I saw the Alhambra so we finally decided to sleep in the car.
Being on a budget we always rent the smallest cheapest car available. This time it was a Renault hatchback approximately 4 feet wide and not much longer. We parked it in a public area facing the rushing river below and to our amazement, across the river high up on a bluff stood the illuminated Alhambra. It was a beautiful sight illuminated in a golden light, brilliant. We gazed at it for awhile and then decided to try some sleep.
You might imagine how difficult it would be for my husband who is six foot five inches tall to sleep in a tiny Renault. The only thing he could do was sit in the passenger seat and recline it all the way. I lay down in the back seat but had to bend my legs quite a bit to fit. I could feel the cold air rushing into my back from the hatchback and if I tried to turn over I would hit the back of John's seat. It was just miserable. But the fun was only beginning. It began to snow. I kid you not. It snowed and snowed and we could see our breaths blow as we breathed in and out. The car fogged up immediately and I began to worry about carbon manoxide poisoning. The funny thing was there were cars on either side of us which were also fogged up and jiggling around because teenagers were in them and not sleeping. I think in my suffering I even asked one of them to turn down the music!
At this point we decided to put on more clothes. John and I have always traveled light and dress in layers when necessary. Being December we packed our silk long johns which take up no room in our luggage, are easy to clean and dry and really do keep you warm without being bulky. We already had our silk long johns on but they were not warm enough for the snow. So we got our bags out and began adding clothes. I had an extra pair of socks and pants and put them both on over my existing socks and pants along with an extra turtleneck top underneath my sweater and my windbreaker and my gloves. I also had a knit hat that I had just bought in Portugal and pulled it way down over my ears but it didn't reach my earlobes so they were cold all night. Poor John didn't even have a hat. I felt like that kid in "A Christmas Story" after his mom dressed him up in the giant parka with the hat and scarf. I wished I had a scarf that night.
Somehow we both finally managed to go to sleep but of course I had to awaken in the middle of the night with the need to pee. This was a nightmarish situation for me. I have issues with public bathrooms as it is. I have to have a toilet with a seat on it and toilet paper or I'm totally traumatized. I've seen and done it all and I'm still traumatized. This was worse. There was no bathroom anywhere nearby and I would not make it until morning so I did what I had to do. I put my shoes back on and trudged out in the snow, which was about 4 inches deep already, and walked down the bank to the river and somehow managed to take care of business without falling down or being seen. When I returned I was frozen. My hair had never dried from the rain and this just added to my misery. I woke John and that added to my misery.
We both remarked while staring at the Alhambra which was still illuminated, I guess it stays that way all night, that if we die, at least we died staring at something beautiful. This was a cheerful thought and made us both laugh.
The next morning, frozen, still damp, and with a mouth full of moth balls, we wandered back to our friendly pub which was already open to our joy, and used their toilet facilities to brush our teeth and do makeup, mine, not John's, ha. I still had my knit hat on tight and when I removed it my hair was completely flat and perfectly straight down to my earlobes. I have curly hair and when mixed with water it curls even more or can be shaped by any object. My hat shaped my head like a cone with a strange fringe sticking out in a fan shape all the way around my shoulders. I tried to brush it out and even added some water but it was hopeless. It just got very electric and stood straight up so I went back to the hat head with the fringe. When John saw it, I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh loudly but it was painful for him and finally we both lost it. We had some coffee and then decided to go see that darned Alhambra and it had better be worth all that we went through, not to mention my hair.
It was, of course. It was superb and delicate and golden and lacey and calm and peaceful. The views over the mountains and Granada were lovely. The history of the palace and its importance made one ponder over war and why we can't get along. The Moors were very progressive people. When they conquered Spain they allowed complete religious freedom. They founded the very first university in Europe and encouraged students to come and study from all over the world. They also encouraged the world's greatest minds to study and lecture in their universities. They loved beauty and architecture and lovely fountains with lions or elephants around them. They ruled Spain for 700 years and it was a golden age for Spain. Christians, Muslims and Jews worked and studied side by side for centuries in this enlightened empire. It made me sad to think that they were forced out so brutally by the houses of Aragon and Navaro. When the king finally gave up the Alhambra they said he cried and I can understand that. It's a wonderful sight which anyone interested in history or sociology should definitely see. I'm glad I did.
The next night in Toledo we found a room with radiant heat in the floor and a bath tub instead of a shower. It felt like heaven just walking on the warm floor and soaking in the tub was almost orgasmic. The drive to Toledo is for another time because it included the most bizarre thing we've ever seen.
I'm glad we went to Granada and plan to go again someday. Nowadays, we don't waste time looking for rooms. I make all reservations in advance through the internet and travel by train everywhere possible, renting cars only when necessary to reach small out of the way places with no train station. This works far better and is much less stressful. It took me years to perfect this system and travel is even more enjoyable because of it. When you aren't wasting time looking for rooms or driving you are spending time enjoying yourself, drinking wine, and meeting new friends and that is what travel is all about.
Hasta Manana
Our first trip to Spain was quite an adventure. One loaded with many stories and downright hilarious incidents. I made many mistakes in the planning of that trip. Mainly decided to tour the country by car, and I mean tour the entire country! It is vast and empty in most parts except the five major cities but when you get in those cities driving is the craziest I've ever seen anywhere. The reason I chose an auto was that there were no high speed trains in Spain back then and I wanted to see many beauties along the way.
Of all the sights in Spain, Granada had always been number one on my list. My mom told me about Granada and the empire of the Moors and their stunning palace, the Alhambra sitting high upon a pinacle. I had envisioned it a thousand and one times just like the tales of the Arabian Knights. We were definitely going to Granada!
The other mistake I made was by not booking any rooms in advance. We used to travel all over Europe that way. I would bring my list of cheap accomodations for each destination and we would go door to door requesting a room until we found one. It had worked fairly well in the past and even elsewhere in Spain but we were finally out of luck when we reached Granada.
We had been to Morocco by ferry and driven up from Malaga on the coast that day. It was balmy and warm on the coast. Granada is only about two to three hours by car yet due to it's location and elevation it is a completely different climate zone. We arrived after dark and once parked we set off on foot to look for a place to stay. Almost immediately it began to rain. We had no rain gear with us and were woefully unprepared.
The first three places we tried were completely full. This was rather unusual so after the fourth place I asked if they could suggest a place for us to stay. This is when we found out about the fete. What fete? I didn't know about any fete. Apparently it was a huge fete bringing thousands of people to Granada from all over southern Spain. Every room in Granada was booked. Even the five star hotel we checked in desperation.
By this time we were quite soaked and cold and frustrated so we went into a cozy bar for a drink and had some hot soup. John and I discussed our options. We could keep driving until we got somewhere but where? There is hardly anything at all between Granada in the mountains and our next destination of Toledo way up on the plain far north. Just emptyness. It seemed a hopeless situation and I was not leaving until I saw the Alhambra so we finally decided to sleep in the car.
Being on a budget we always rent the smallest cheapest car available. This time it was a Renault hatchback approximately 4 feet wide and not much longer. We parked it in a public area facing the rushing river below and to our amazement, across the river high up on a bluff stood the illuminated Alhambra. It was a beautiful sight illuminated in a golden light, brilliant. We gazed at it for awhile and then decided to try some sleep.
You might imagine how difficult it would be for my husband who is six foot five inches tall to sleep in a tiny Renault. The only thing he could do was sit in the passenger seat and recline it all the way. I lay down in the back seat but had to bend my legs quite a bit to fit. I could feel the cold air rushing into my back from the hatchback and if I tried to turn over I would hit the back of John's seat. It was just miserable. But the fun was only beginning. It began to snow. I kid you not. It snowed and snowed and we could see our breaths blow as we breathed in and out. The car fogged up immediately and I began to worry about carbon manoxide poisoning. The funny thing was there were cars on either side of us which were also fogged up and jiggling around because teenagers were in them and not sleeping. I think in my suffering I even asked one of them to turn down the music!
At this point we decided to put on more clothes. John and I have always traveled light and dress in layers when necessary. Being December we packed our silk long johns which take up no room in our luggage, are easy to clean and dry and really do keep you warm without being bulky. We already had our silk long johns on but they were not warm enough for the snow. So we got our bags out and began adding clothes. I had an extra pair of socks and pants and put them both on over my existing socks and pants along with an extra turtleneck top underneath my sweater and my windbreaker and my gloves. I also had a knit hat that I had just bought in Portugal and pulled it way down over my ears but it didn't reach my earlobes so they were cold all night. Poor John didn't even have a hat. I felt like that kid in "A Christmas Story" after his mom dressed him up in the giant parka with the hat and scarf. I wished I had a scarf that night.
Somehow we both finally managed to go to sleep but of course I had to awaken in the middle of the night with the need to pee. This was a nightmarish situation for me. I have issues with public bathrooms as it is. I have to have a toilet with a seat on it and toilet paper or I'm totally traumatized. I've seen and done it all and I'm still traumatized. This was worse. There was no bathroom anywhere nearby and I would not make it until morning so I did what I had to do. I put my shoes back on and trudged out in the snow, which was about 4 inches deep already, and walked down the bank to the river and somehow managed to take care of business without falling down or being seen. When I returned I was frozen. My hair had never dried from the rain and this just added to my misery. I woke John and that added to my misery.
We both remarked while staring at the Alhambra which was still illuminated, I guess it stays that way all night, that if we die, at least we died staring at something beautiful. This was a cheerful thought and made us both laugh.
The next morning, frozen, still damp, and with a mouth full of moth balls, we wandered back to our friendly pub which was already open to our joy, and used their toilet facilities to brush our teeth and do makeup, mine, not John's, ha. I still had my knit hat on tight and when I removed it my hair was completely flat and perfectly straight down to my earlobes. I have curly hair and when mixed with water it curls even more or can be shaped by any object. My hat shaped my head like a cone with a strange fringe sticking out in a fan shape all the way around my shoulders. I tried to brush it out and even added some water but it was hopeless. It just got very electric and stood straight up so I went back to the hat head with the fringe. When John saw it, I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh loudly but it was painful for him and finally we both lost it. We had some coffee and then decided to go see that darned Alhambra and it had better be worth all that we went through, not to mention my hair.
It was, of course. It was superb and delicate and golden and lacey and calm and peaceful. The views over the mountains and Granada were lovely. The history of the palace and its importance made one ponder over war and why we can't get along. The Moors were very progressive people. When they conquered Spain they allowed complete religious freedom. They founded the very first university in Europe and encouraged students to come and study from all over the world. They also encouraged the world's greatest minds to study and lecture in their universities. They loved beauty and architecture and lovely fountains with lions or elephants around them. They ruled Spain for 700 years and it was a golden age for Spain. Christians, Muslims and Jews worked and studied side by side for centuries in this enlightened empire. It made me sad to think that they were forced out so brutally by the houses of Aragon and Navaro. When the king finally gave up the Alhambra they said he cried and I can understand that. It's a wonderful sight which anyone interested in history or sociology should definitely see. I'm glad I did.
The next night in Toledo we found a room with radiant heat in the floor and a bath tub instead of a shower. It felt like heaven just walking on the warm floor and soaking in the tub was almost orgasmic. The drive to Toledo is for another time because it included the most bizarre thing we've ever seen.
I'm glad we went to Granada and plan to go again someday. Nowadays, we don't waste time looking for rooms. I make all reservations in advance through the internet and travel by train everywhere possible, renting cars only when necessary to reach small out of the way places with no train station. This works far better and is much less stressful. It took me years to perfect this system and travel is even more enjoyable because of it. When you aren't wasting time looking for rooms or driving you are spending time enjoying yourself, drinking wine, and meeting new friends and that is what travel is all about.
Hasta Manana
Monday, March 21, 2011
The Reef Roamer
Dear Reader,
As avid scuba divers, John and I are always looking for new beautiful reefs to dive, but the one we keep going back to again and again is Belize in Central America. I believe we have now dived in Belize on 11 different vacations because it has all of the best of everything. We always to go the large island (or Caye) called Ambergris Caye which is just an hour ferry ride from Belize City on the coast or a 15 minute airplane ride.
Ambergris Caye is directly on the world's second largest barrier reef. The reef in Australia is the largest. For non-divers this might not mean much but it is gorgeous to dive on. There are so many beautiful dive sites loaded with colorful Caribbean Reef Fish, stunningly colorful corals, lobsters, crabs, sharks, sting rays, Giant Moray Eels, that you can dive the same sites again and again and never get bored.
The beauty of being directly on the reef is the short boat ride. Even though I've been diving on 100s of boats, it is still easy to get sea sick when preparing your gear in choppy water. The boat rides from the shore to the reef on Ambergris Caye is usually only 5 minutes and most of the time pretty smooth. This means you are in the water before you have a chance to get sick.
Besides the scuba diving, Ambergris Caye has many other delightful aspects. There is one small town, San Pedro, which is probably now about 5,000 in population. It was only 2,000 when we first went there but it seems to have grown a bit. The most noticeable thing is they have started paving the roads. They used to be all sand and would get terrible pot holes when it rains but now there are two paved roads into and through the town and a couple of side streets are paved as well. Progress can be good though the sand roads are easier on your feet. But I digress, the town itself is blessed with not only a myriad of dive shops to choose from but also dozens of wonderful bars and restaurants serving fresh fish and seafood and tropical drinks and beers all reasonably priced. Actually there's only one beer, Belikin, the beer of Belize but it's cheap.
The beaches are also nice and there is a huge range of accomodations from basic hostel pensions to 5 star luxury hotels and condos both moderate and expensive depending on not so much the view, most of of them have ocean views, but instead whether or not there is a bar and a swimming pool. A lot of them have both.
There are two kinds of diving to do on Ambergris Caye. The usual diving is right on the nearby reef in various spots which, like I said, is a short boat ride. The other is a longer trip, usually all day long, to a part of the reef which is much farther away or to the Great Blue Hole which was discovered by Jacques Cousteau.
Everyone who dives in Belize ends up diving the Blue Hole at some point. We've done it four times now. It's fascinating because it was once a giant cavern and the ceiling collapsed. This left just a ring visible from the air because the reef around it is quite shallow but inside it is 400 feet deep. This is a deep dive and any diver attempting this should be at least certified as a deep diver if not advanced. The dive is only 8-15 minutes long and goes to 150 feet, sometimes more. Inside there are giant stalagtites hanging suspended from what is left of the ceiling though it is usually dark down there and impossible to see the top of it from depth.
It was on our first dive trip to the Blue Hole that my story of the Reef Roamer recollects. We booked the trip through our dive shop Amigos del Mar, which we have been going to for 10 years now. In those days the trip used to be overnight because the boats were slower. I know that sounds archaic but we aren't that old! The Reef Roamer was our boat, a triple decker speed boat with a kitchen, head and crew quarters below, dive deck above and a recreation room with tables and couches above that. The captain was one deck higher which makes it a pretty tall speed boat.
It was a beautiful ride along the great barrier reef past islands such as the neighboring Caye Caulker, Goff Caye in the calm waters. Eventually we traversed beautiful passes between mangrove islands and then out to the open sea. Divers tend to be a little crazy and most of us were crowded up on the bow of the boat right in front of the cockpit window bouncing along our drinks (non-alcholic) spraying each other. It was a wonderful day.
There was a terrific cook on board named Richard. He was happily working away in the kitchen most of the time when he wasn't serving us snacks. What cracked John up about Richard was that everytime anyone would use the head, which was right next to the kitchen, Richard would start singing at the top of his lungs. He wasn't a very good singer but he was loud. It was pretty funny.
Richard also talked a lot. We told him stories of our bad luck on other dive trips and how we had to be rescued by the Bahamian Coast Guard on a live aboard dive boat once and had been on another dive boat that sunk. He didn't like the idea of having people on his boat with bad luck and said we were cursed. He liked to joke around with us about it. Right before John smacked his head really hard on the doorway Richard yelled "Watch Your Head". Then he laughed and told us a story of a funny little bar in San Pedro which is called Watch Your Head and has a doorway that's only 4 feet high. John would never make it through that door! John then told him how he had banged his head inside a cave just the day before diving. Richard said "See what I mean?". The banter went like that the entire trip.
We had also been warned not to put our hands on the orange painted rungs on the dive ladder when climbing aboard the Reef Roamer. After one of our dives Richard was assisting the crew in taking our gear as we climbed aboard and John put his hand right on the forbidden rung. Immediately the ladder smacked into the back of the boat from a wave and smashed his fingers. It was awful and I could tell he was in a lot of pain but fortunately had no broken bones. Richard liked to laugh over that one again and again until he got John to laughing about it as well. He started calling us bad luck but for some reason kept hanging around us.
When we approached the Blue Hole a great dolphin appeared next to the boat leaping along side of us and the across the bow and on the other side. She escorted us to the buoy leaping playfully all around. Apparently she had lost her mate some time before and was all alone so she always greeted the dive boats and provided an escort. I believe her name was Rita.
We dove immediately straight down inside the hole dropping to 150 feet as fast as possible in order to enjoy our bottom time as much as possible. Afterward we did a safety stop at 30 feet where a few spare tanks were waiting for anyone short on air. A safety stop is to help the nitrogen bubbles escape from your blood vessels so you don't get the bends. One that deep is usually required after a deep dive since most safety stops are at 10-15 feet at the most. Rita was waiting for us at the safety stop! It was awesome. She swam right up to me and came between my legs and right up my entire body to my face. I held out my hands and felt her soft underside as she passed smoothly up and up. It was like velvet and with a wink and a nod she moved on and attacked John. Not really but she did hit him pretty hard. Rita liked to play.
After the dive we went to Long Island Caye for the night. This Caye is really cool because it is the natrual habitat of the blue footed booby bird. I kid you not. There are hundreds of them walking around the island. We docked at the pier and took a hike to see the booby birds nesting in the tree tops. The government built a giant viewing platform about three stories high from which to look down at the nests. It was very cool. We were looking at a forest of some sort of deciduous broad leafy trees with giant nests each with a huge white bird with big blue feet sitting in them. I've never seen anything like it.
After the hike we had a very nice barbeque on the beach with fresh grouper and rice and beans, a typical Belizian meal. We got hot and played in the water for a while after lunch and Rita showed up. She liked to play keep away with a lifesaver only she liked to win. John didn't realize that so he held up the lifesaver for Rita to jump through but afterwards she wanted her prize, the lifesaver, which John held on to so she hit him right in the face hard enough to knock off his mask. I remember it really hurt his nose. Rita was one big strong dolphin.
At night we had dinner and beers and then most people knocked off early. Some decided to sleep on the beach in hammocks to keep away from the bugs but I preferred to stay on the water even farther from the bugs. We put our sleeping bags out on the bow because there were too many people crowded into the rec room and it seemed too hot. This didn't last long though because suddenly the sky opened up and it started pouring rain. The wind was whipping up too and we saw those hammocks spinning like windmills! So we raced inside and squeezed in with the rest of the crowd and went to sleep.
Of course in the middle of the night I had to use the restroom. When in dock, you aren't supposed to use the head. You have to use one of the two out houses on the pier. These were interesting because when you did your business in the toilet it went directly into the ocean. I tried not to think about it and just hoped no one could hear me. But what was amazing was the sky. There were billions of stars looming directly in front of me so bright that it was almost blinding. They were also huge and the whole display around me had a dizzying effect. I started to stagger around the deck from it. I have never seen stars anywhere like that, not even in the mountains. It was as if they were raining down upon earth (or the ocean) all around us.
They next day we had two more dives in the area. The first was Lighthouse Reef, which is right off Lighthouse Caye, where we spent the night. The second was a wall dive called Turneff. It was stunning. A wall dive is where there is a drop off in from the bottom that goes in a pretty straight line like a shelf and is much deeper than is safe to dive. So you can go down to a safe depth and then swim along side it looking in all the nooks and crannies at all the beautiful fish and critters and corals. It's really nice.
On the way back to Ambergris Caye we hit a storm which brought some pretty big waves. We were rocking all over the place and the captain had to really put the pedal to the metal to hit the waves with enough speed so we were also slapping down pretty hard. I had taken my Dramamine that morning as a precaution and was glad I did. Other than John and one other female diver, everyone else was sick. So we sat in the rec room watching the rain and getting hungry just as Richard appeared with a fresh conch ceviche he had just made. One of the crew had caught it before we left and it was delicious. And there was plenty of it since we were the only two eating it! If you've never had ceviche I think of it as a typically coastal or island Mexican dish made of raw fish, conch or shrimp, or even scallops marinated in lime juice, diced tomatoes, onions and hot peppers. In Belize they also add cucumber and carrots. It's very refreshing and ususally eaten with tortilla chips.
We broke down only about 1/2 hour away from Ambergris Caye and had to call for help. This used to be a common occurrence on dive boats in Belize and Honduras. We've been on many that haven't made it back to shore and had to be towed. This time I think we just needed some replacement part which was brought to us and once the repairs were made we were on our way. We only had a delay of a couple of hours but who cares? We didn't have a plane to catch or any appointments to keep and they serve dinner in San Pedro late enough not to worry about that.
When we returned we said our goodbyes to the crew and to Richard and went back to our room to clean up. We were starving and it was dinner time already.
A few years later when we were watching football in a bar in San Pedro Richard walked in. I couldn't believe he remembered us but he did. We told him how much we liked his cooking and he advised he had a job at one of the local restaurants so we promised to visit him. He noticed we were wearing our Reef Roamer t-shirts and then told us that we were on Reef Roamer's last voyage. There was a really big storm and she sunk. No one was injured but it was really sad. I really liked that boat. Then Richard remembered that we were bad luck and said as soon as he found out he should have jumped overboard right then and there! In our defense, we weren't on board when the Reef Roamer did sink and I don't see how we could have possibly caused it to happen from such a distance. Richard just gave me the look, the sly eye knowing look and said the next time we go on a day trip to let him know in advance so he won't be on board. He was just kidding, of course. But maybe not. As they say in Belize, "You Better Belize It". I'm not really sure what that means.
Good Evening for now,
As avid scuba divers, John and I are always looking for new beautiful reefs to dive, but the one we keep going back to again and again is Belize in Central America. I believe we have now dived in Belize on 11 different vacations because it has all of the best of everything. We always to go the large island (or Caye) called Ambergris Caye which is just an hour ferry ride from Belize City on the coast or a 15 minute airplane ride.
Ambergris Caye is directly on the world's second largest barrier reef. The reef in Australia is the largest. For non-divers this might not mean much but it is gorgeous to dive on. There are so many beautiful dive sites loaded with colorful Caribbean Reef Fish, stunningly colorful corals, lobsters, crabs, sharks, sting rays, Giant Moray Eels, that you can dive the same sites again and again and never get bored.
The beauty of being directly on the reef is the short boat ride. Even though I've been diving on 100s of boats, it is still easy to get sea sick when preparing your gear in choppy water. The boat rides from the shore to the reef on Ambergris Caye is usually only 5 minutes and most of the time pretty smooth. This means you are in the water before you have a chance to get sick.
Besides the scuba diving, Ambergris Caye has many other delightful aspects. There is one small town, San Pedro, which is probably now about 5,000 in population. It was only 2,000 when we first went there but it seems to have grown a bit. The most noticeable thing is they have started paving the roads. They used to be all sand and would get terrible pot holes when it rains but now there are two paved roads into and through the town and a couple of side streets are paved as well. Progress can be good though the sand roads are easier on your feet. But I digress, the town itself is blessed with not only a myriad of dive shops to choose from but also dozens of wonderful bars and restaurants serving fresh fish and seafood and tropical drinks and beers all reasonably priced. Actually there's only one beer, Belikin, the beer of Belize but it's cheap.
The beaches are also nice and there is a huge range of accomodations from basic hostel pensions to 5 star luxury hotels and condos both moderate and expensive depending on not so much the view, most of of them have ocean views, but instead whether or not there is a bar and a swimming pool. A lot of them have both.
There are two kinds of diving to do on Ambergris Caye. The usual diving is right on the nearby reef in various spots which, like I said, is a short boat ride. The other is a longer trip, usually all day long, to a part of the reef which is much farther away or to the Great Blue Hole which was discovered by Jacques Cousteau.
Everyone who dives in Belize ends up diving the Blue Hole at some point. We've done it four times now. It's fascinating because it was once a giant cavern and the ceiling collapsed. This left just a ring visible from the air because the reef around it is quite shallow but inside it is 400 feet deep. This is a deep dive and any diver attempting this should be at least certified as a deep diver if not advanced. The dive is only 8-15 minutes long and goes to 150 feet, sometimes more. Inside there are giant stalagtites hanging suspended from what is left of the ceiling though it is usually dark down there and impossible to see the top of it from depth.
It was on our first dive trip to the Blue Hole that my story of the Reef Roamer recollects. We booked the trip through our dive shop Amigos del Mar, which we have been going to for 10 years now. In those days the trip used to be overnight because the boats were slower. I know that sounds archaic but we aren't that old! The Reef Roamer was our boat, a triple decker speed boat with a kitchen, head and crew quarters below, dive deck above and a recreation room with tables and couches above that. The captain was one deck higher which makes it a pretty tall speed boat.
It was a beautiful ride along the great barrier reef past islands such as the neighboring Caye Caulker, Goff Caye in the calm waters. Eventually we traversed beautiful passes between mangrove islands and then out to the open sea. Divers tend to be a little crazy and most of us were crowded up on the bow of the boat right in front of the cockpit window bouncing along our drinks (non-alcholic) spraying each other. It was a wonderful day.
There was a terrific cook on board named Richard. He was happily working away in the kitchen most of the time when he wasn't serving us snacks. What cracked John up about Richard was that everytime anyone would use the head, which was right next to the kitchen, Richard would start singing at the top of his lungs. He wasn't a very good singer but he was loud. It was pretty funny.
Richard also talked a lot. We told him stories of our bad luck on other dive trips and how we had to be rescued by the Bahamian Coast Guard on a live aboard dive boat once and had been on another dive boat that sunk. He didn't like the idea of having people on his boat with bad luck and said we were cursed. He liked to joke around with us about it. Right before John smacked his head really hard on the doorway Richard yelled "Watch Your Head". Then he laughed and told us a story of a funny little bar in San Pedro which is called Watch Your Head and has a doorway that's only 4 feet high. John would never make it through that door! John then told him how he had banged his head inside a cave just the day before diving. Richard said "See what I mean?". The banter went like that the entire trip.
We had also been warned not to put our hands on the orange painted rungs on the dive ladder when climbing aboard the Reef Roamer. After one of our dives Richard was assisting the crew in taking our gear as we climbed aboard and John put his hand right on the forbidden rung. Immediately the ladder smacked into the back of the boat from a wave and smashed his fingers. It was awful and I could tell he was in a lot of pain but fortunately had no broken bones. Richard liked to laugh over that one again and again until he got John to laughing about it as well. He started calling us bad luck but for some reason kept hanging around us.
When we approached the Blue Hole a great dolphin appeared next to the boat leaping along side of us and the across the bow and on the other side. She escorted us to the buoy leaping playfully all around. Apparently she had lost her mate some time before and was all alone so she always greeted the dive boats and provided an escort. I believe her name was Rita.
We dove immediately straight down inside the hole dropping to 150 feet as fast as possible in order to enjoy our bottom time as much as possible. Afterward we did a safety stop at 30 feet where a few spare tanks were waiting for anyone short on air. A safety stop is to help the nitrogen bubbles escape from your blood vessels so you don't get the bends. One that deep is usually required after a deep dive since most safety stops are at 10-15 feet at the most. Rita was waiting for us at the safety stop! It was awesome. She swam right up to me and came between my legs and right up my entire body to my face. I held out my hands and felt her soft underside as she passed smoothly up and up. It was like velvet and with a wink and a nod she moved on and attacked John. Not really but she did hit him pretty hard. Rita liked to play.
After the dive we went to Long Island Caye for the night. This Caye is really cool because it is the natrual habitat of the blue footed booby bird. I kid you not. There are hundreds of them walking around the island. We docked at the pier and took a hike to see the booby birds nesting in the tree tops. The government built a giant viewing platform about three stories high from which to look down at the nests. It was very cool. We were looking at a forest of some sort of deciduous broad leafy trees with giant nests each with a huge white bird with big blue feet sitting in them. I've never seen anything like it.
After the hike we had a very nice barbeque on the beach with fresh grouper and rice and beans, a typical Belizian meal. We got hot and played in the water for a while after lunch and Rita showed up. She liked to play keep away with a lifesaver only she liked to win. John didn't realize that so he held up the lifesaver for Rita to jump through but afterwards she wanted her prize, the lifesaver, which John held on to so she hit him right in the face hard enough to knock off his mask. I remember it really hurt his nose. Rita was one big strong dolphin.
At night we had dinner and beers and then most people knocked off early. Some decided to sleep on the beach in hammocks to keep away from the bugs but I preferred to stay on the water even farther from the bugs. We put our sleeping bags out on the bow because there were too many people crowded into the rec room and it seemed too hot. This didn't last long though because suddenly the sky opened up and it started pouring rain. The wind was whipping up too and we saw those hammocks spinning like windmills! So we raced inside and squeezed in with the rest of the crowd and went to sleep.
Of course in the middle of the night I had to use the restroom. When in dock, you aren't supposed to use the head. You have to use one of the two out houses on the pier. These were interesting because when you did your business in the toilet it went directly into the ocean. I tried not to think about it and just hoped no one could hear me. But what was amazing was the sky. There were billions of stars looming directly in front of me so bright that it was almost blinding. They were also huge and the whole display around me had a dizzying effect. I started to stagger around the deck from it. I have never seen stars anywhere like that, not even in the mountains. It was as if they were raining down upon earth (or the ocean) all around us.
They next day we had two more dives in the area. The first was Lighthouse Reef, which is right off Lighthouse Caye, where we spent the night. The second was a wall dive called Turneff. It was stunning. A wall dive is where there is a drop off in from the bottom that goes in a pretty straight line like a shelf and is much deeper than is safe to dive. So you can go down to a safe depth and then swim along side it looking in all the nooks and crannies at all the beautiful fish and critters and corals. It's really nice.
On the way back to Ambergris Caye we hit a storm which brought some pretty big waves. We were rocking all over the place and the captain had to really put the pedal to the metal to hit the waves with enough speed so we were also slapping down pretty hard. I had taken my Dramamine that morning as a precaution and was glad I did. Other than John and one other female diver, everyone else was sick. So we sat in the rec room watching the rain and getting hungry just as Richard appeared with a fresh conch ceviche he had just made. One of the crew had caught it before we left and it was delicious. And there was plenty of it since we were the only two eating it! If you've never had ceviche I think of it as a typically coastal or island Mexican dish made of raw fish, conch or shrimp, or even scallops marinated in lime juice, diced tomatoes, onions and hot peppers. In Belize they also add cucumber and carrots. It's very refreshing and ususally eaten with tortilla chips.
We broke down only about 1/2 hour away from Ambergris Caye and had to call for help. This used to be a common occurrence on dive boats in Belize and Honduras. We've been on many that haven't made it back to shore and had to be towed. This time I think we just needed some replacement part which was brought to us and once the repairs were made we were on our way. We only had a delay of a couple of hours but who cares? We didn't have a plane to catch or any appointments to keep and they serve dinner in San Pedro late enough not to worry about that.
When we returned we said our goodbyes to the crew and to Richard and went back to our room to clean up. We were starving and it was dinner time already.
A few years later when we were watching football in a bar in San Pedro Richard walked in. I couldn't believe he remembered us but he did. We told him how much we liked his cooking and he advised he had a job at one of the local restaurants so we promised to visit him. He noticed we were wearing our Reef Roamer t-shirts and then told us that we were on Reef Roamer's last voyage. There was a really big storm and she sunk. No one was injured but it was really sad. I really liked that boat. Then Richard remembered that we were bad luck and said as soon as he found out he should have jumped overboard right then and there! In our defense, we weren't on board when the Reef Roamer did sink and I don't see how we could have possibly caused it to happen from such a distance. Richard just gave me the look, the sly eye knowing look and said the next time we go on a day trip to let him know in advance so he won't be on board. He was just kidding, of course. But maybe not. As they say in Belize, "You Better Belize It". I'm not really sure what that means.
Good Evening for now,
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Two Horse Hire
Dear Reader,
I've been painting and moving furniture all day so am too tired to write one of my stories so I'll just tell part of a quick one. It was on my very first trip to Europe and also in England. After some very hectic days in London we rented a car to drive out into the countryside. This was a trip of many firsts for me. My first time in a major cosmopolitan city, my first English beer, my first pub meal, my first authentic fish and chips, my first gothic cathedral and my first time ever driving on the left.
Not realizing how extremely scary it is trying to drive in a foreign country in an enormous and busy city that uses the opposite side of the road, we made the mistake of renting a car in London, rather than leaving by train. There were several harry moments when I drove up the wrong way on a one way street, into a dead-end street turned the wrong way out of a round-about but somehow eventually we made it out of London into the countryside.
Being on a very tight budget and attempting to adhere to the "Europe on $10.00 A Day" book, I had scouted around for the cheapest possible rental car and ended up with a local company called "Two Horse Hire". We got a tiny red Citroen which looked like a volkswagon bug wth the sides flattened. There was only a tiny shelf for a back seat and the windows flapped out and upward. At high speeds, the windows would often catch wind and fall down or lift us right off the ground. It was difficult to drive because the stick shift came out of the dash rather than on the floor and it was extremely stiff to pull and turn. I scraped my fingers shifting that thing until they bled. And of course, I had to do all of this with my left hand because the driver sits on the right side. Pretty complicated along with all the strange traffic signs, round-abouts and unknown signals.
Our first stop was Brighton on the southern coast. A charming town of aged elegance yet cheerful with its boardwalk and beaches, tea rooms and pubs and old hotels. The Oriental pleasure palace of Prince Willliam, son of Victoria, is the main attraction nowadays but we were sidetracked, because we got lost, and visited a wonderful and very old castle nearby called Arundel Castle. The Earl of Arundel was related to the famous Howard family which produced Sir. Thomas Howard, uncle of Anne Bolyen & Katharin Howard and a very powerful man. It was a lovely castle in the woods with a moat and very enjoyable.
Touring always makes us hungry so we stopped in a small village at their pub and went inside for a beer and pub food. The group was small, as was the bar. They were all definitely locals and pub regulars and were having a lively converstation until we walked in. Then there was complete silence as they stared at us with unhidden curiousity. I asked the bartender for his best bitter and got it. John ordered his favorite beer and we asked about food. He recited some things and showed us a chalk board and we chose our food and went to a table to drink. But we couldn't help people still staring at us. No one would speak to us though. We were just too alien, I guess.
Finally one gent with his front tooth missing and a few hairs on the top of his head wandered over and looked out the window at our car which proudly displayed "Two Horse Hire" in white letters on both sides. Underneath that it gave an address in London. He spoke finally: "Two Horse Hire" I have three horses to hire". Then he laughed and walked away. Now people were getting braver and another looking at the car asked us if we were from London, that far away and strange place. We shocked them once again into a short silence when we advised that we are from California. There was a collective Ooooooooooo throughout the pub. After that eveyone wanted to talk to us, buy us beers, and even followed us to the car when we were leaving.
This was my first real country pub experience, one which I've enjoyed again and again throughout England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. Once you open up and speak to the country folk, they are incredibly friendly, very generous and extremely curious. I learned a lot that day about human nature and how very different as well as alike we are.
Cheers!
I've been painting and moving furniture all day so am too tired to write one of my stories so I'll just tell part of a quick one. It was on my very first trip to Europe and also in England. After some very hectic days in London we rented a car to drive out into the countryside. This was a trip of many firsts for me. My first time in a major cosmopolitan city, my first English beer, my first pub meal, my first authentic fish and chips, my first gothic cathedral and my first time ever driving on the left.
Not realizing how extremely scary it is trying to drive in a foreign country in an enormous and busy city that uses the opposite side of the road, we made the mistake of renting a car in London, rather than leaving by train. There were several harry moments when I drove up the wrong way on a one way street, into a dead-end street turned the wrong way out of a round-about but somehow eventually we made it out of London into the countryside.
Being on a very tight budget and attempting to adhere to the "Europe on $10.00 A Day" book, I had scouted around for the cheapest possible rental car and ended up with a local company called "Two Horse Hire". We got a tiny red Citroen which looked like a volkswagon bug wth the sides flattened. There was only a tiny shelf for a back seat and the windows flapped out and upward. At high speeds, the windows would often catch wind and fall down or lift us right off the ground. It was difficult to drive because the stick shift came out of the dash rather than on the floor and it was extremely stiff to pull and turn. I scraped my fingers shifting that thing until they bled. And of course, I had to do all of this with my left hand because the driver sits on the right side. Pretty complicated along with all the strange traffic signs, round-abouts and unknown signals.
Our first stop was Brighton on the southern coast. A charming town of aged elegance yet cheerful with its boardwalk and beaches, tea rooms and pubs and old hotels. The Oriental pleasure palace of Prince Willliam, son of Victoria, is the main attraction nowadays but we were sidetracked, because we got lost, and visited a wonderful and very old castle nearby called Arundel Castle. The Earl of Arundel was related to the famous Howard family which produced Sir. Thomas Howard, uncle of Anne Bolyen & Katharin Howard and a very powerful man. It was a lovely castle in the woods with a moat and very enjoyable.
Touring always makes us hungry so we stopped in a small village at their pub and went inside for a beer and pub food. The group was small, as was the bar. They were all definitely locals and pub regulars and were having a lively converstation until we walked in. Then there was complete silence as they stared at us with unhidden curiousity. I asked the bartender for his best bitter and got it. John ordered his favorite beer and we asked about food. He recited some things and showed us a chalk board and we chose our food and went to a table to drink. But we couldn't help people still staring at us. No one would speak to us though. We were just too alien, I guess.
Finally one gent with his front tooth missing and a few hairs on the top of his head wandered over and looked out the window at our car which proudly displayed "Two Horse Hire" in white letters on both sides. Underneath that it gave an address in London. He spoke finally: "Two Horse Hire" I have three horses to hire". Then he laughed and walked away. Now people were getting braver and another looking at the car asked us if we were from London, that far away and strange place. We shocked them once again into a short silence when we advised that we are from California. There was a collective Ooooooooooo throughout the pub. After that eveyone wanted to talk to us, buy us beers, and even followed us to the car when we were leaving.
This was my first real country pub experience, one which I've enjoyed again and again throughout England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. Once you open up and speak to the country folk, they are incredibly friendly, very generous and extremely curious. I learned a lot that day about human nature and how very different as well as alike we are.
Cheers!
Friday, March 18, 2011
Those Romans Could Really Build an Aqueduct
Dear Reader,
Today I'd like to talk about doing the unusual during travel; little out of the ordinary things that make travel so special, at least to me and my husband. Not all of it is recommended or even er, um, legal, but it sure was fun.
I'm sure eveyrone has seen a photo or two of a Roman aqueduct but until you've seen one up close and personal you can't begin to grasp the enormity and magnificence of the actual structure. I've had personal experiences with two that are still standing strong and am still awe struck.
One of the longest and best preserved aqueducts in the world is called the Pont du Gard in Provence, France. The remaining portion that still stands is over 1 mile long but originally it was over 30 miles long. This thing stands about 20-30 stories above the Rhone River. As you might notice, I'm guessing the height because it was scary up there and the people below looked like ants so whatever height that makes it is how high it is!
The first time we visited the Pont du Gard was on an earlier trip to France and on our first visit to Provence. For some reason it was raining really hard but I can't remember the time of year. That didn't stop us from climbing it. No way. If there's something in Europe to be climbed, we must and have duty to climb it.
Back in those days it was allowed. First you enter on the inside of the aqueduct. Yes, there is a huge interior to the structure tall enough for John, who is 6'5" tall, to stand straight up. I'd say it was at least 6 feet wide and still had a small stream of water running through it, probably because of the rain and the holes in the ceiling. That's how we got to the top. John hoisted me up through a hole in the ceiling and then pulled himself up and we walked precariously along the top, feet spread to avoid getting them soaked.
There were a few other people walking along the top so we figured it was safe. In fact, other than a lack of railing and the certain death should one fall, it felt very safe. When I looked down at the tiny beach below and the river, I noticed a guy diving in wearing his speedo. That's so very European that I had to laugh.
A few years ago on another visit to Provence it was definitely close to summertime and very hot. We had been doing a driving trip all day visiting other ruins and I had the great idea that it would be fun to go swimming in the Rhone River to cool off and the best part was that we decided to do it underneath the Pont du Gard. I guess I was still thinking of that guy in the speedo. To our surprise, there were lots of cars lined up and down the highway leading to the sight including campers so we had to hike a good distance carrying our towels and swimsuits to get there but it was definitely worth it!
The beach was rocky and very crowded with lots of locals and their children having picnics and drinking wine and swimming and playing with their dogs. It was actually a very homey and charming sight to see. We used a public toilet to change in and picked our spot on the rocks and took the plunge into the river. The water was cold but felt great in the heat and the river was extremely calm there. In fact, it was shallow, which may be why it's such a popular swimming spot.
Up over our heads shining in the sunlight was the spectacular Pont du Gard in all of its glory. John and I floated on our backs underneath it's enormous shadow and just speculated on how many men and how long it took to build. Kids were jumping off of rocks from high above us into the shallow water right next to us. I remember once being so brave. But of course, no one dared to jump from the aqueduct itself. That is just too high. Besides, the public is no longer allowed to climb it. I guess perhaps someone did fall.
The beauty of that day is still with me and the best part is, it was free. Yes, you can swim underneath an ancient acqueduct and enjoy the river and beach and its facilities for free. You can't beat that.
Another great Roman aqueduct is in Segovia, Spain. I have no idea anymore how long it is but it is one of the most amazing sights I have ever seen in my life because it extends for miles outside of the city.
Segovia is up on the great plain of Spain and is a former royal capital of the once kingdom of Aragon. There sits one of the prettiest and most picturesque castles I've ever seen. It looks very much like the Disney castle at the original Disneyland.This was the home of the great Isabella of Spain. It stands up on top of the mountain, as was the custom for defensive purposes and is visible for miles along with the amazing Roman aqueduct.
As we were approaching Segovia by car we watched the castle and the aqueduct for miles as they loomed larger and larger. The sun was low in the sky and their golden colors were just spectacular. Everything in Segovia is made out of a yellow stone including the aqueduct. Perhaps it was just the time of day but the sight was magical.
We toured the castle, of course, and John misbehaved and sat in Ferdinand's throne when no one was looking. I have the picture to prove it. Then we went off to a closer look at the aqueduct.
This aqueduct was much more narrow than the Pont du Gard, only about two feet wide. There was no way to get inside of it either. Down below instead of a river was a busy 4 lane street with cars zooming in and out underneath the aqueduct's arches. We saw a guy up on top of the aqueduct very carefully walking across it. So, of course, John and I decided to give it a try. This one was easy to climb up on because it went right into the hillside where we were standing. But I'm telling you now, don't try this! It was very scary. There are no railings of course because people aren't even supposed to be up there, and it was narrow with a small stream of water running through it. Once small slip and we would have ended up a hood ornament on a very flat compact car or two. It's a beautiful thing though from below with it's double arches and I do highly recommend seeing it.
Next time you see an old building dating back to the 19th or early 20th century or even the old colonial buildings of Williamsburg, Virginia and are impressed, think about the Romans and what they accomplished. And then hop on a plane and go see for yourself. You will be greatly rewarded and also get a sense of how short our country and our modern life has been in existence compared to these great structures. It puts everything into perspective.
Adios Amigos!
Today I'd like to talk about doing the unusual during travel; little out of the ordinary things that make travel so special, at least to me and my husband. Not all of it is recommended or even er, um, legal, but it sure was fun.
I'm sure eveyrone has seen a photo or two of a Roman aqueduct but until you've seen one up close and personal you can't begin to grasp the enormity and magnificence of the actual structure. I've had personal experiences with two that are still standing strong and am still awe struck.
One of the longest and best preserved aqueducts in the world is called the Pont du Gard in Provence, France. The remaining portion that still stands is over 1 mile long but originally it was over 30 miles long. This thing stands about 20-30 stories above the Rhone River. As you might notice, I'm guessing the height because it was scary up there and the people below looked like ants so whatever height that makes it is how high it is!
The first time we visited the Pont du Gard was on an earlier trip to France and on our first visit to Provence. For some reason it was raining really hard but I can't remember the time of year. That didn't stop us from climbing it. No way. If there's something in Europe to be climbed, we must and have duty to climb it.
Back in those days it was allowed. First you enter on the inside of the aqueduct. Yes, there is a huge interior to the structure tall enough for John, who is 6'5" tall, to stand straight up. I'd say it was at least 6 feet wide and still had a small stream of water running through it, probably because of the rain and the holes in the ceiling. That's how we got to the top. John hoisted me up through a hole in the ceiling and then pulled himself up and we walked precariously along the top, feet spread to avoid getting them soaked.
There were a few other people walking along the top so we figured it was safe. In fact, other than a lack of railing and the certain death should one fall, it felt very safe. When I looked down at the tiny beach below and the river, I noticed a guy diving in wearing his speedo. That's so very European that I had to laugh.
A few years ago on another visit to Provence it was definitely close to summertime and very hot. We had been doing a driving trip all day visiting other ruins and I had the great idea that it would be fun to go swimming in the Rhone River to cool off and the best part was that we decided to do it underneath the Pont du Gard. I guess I was still thinking of that guy in the speedo. To our surprise, there were lots of cars lined up and down the highway leading to the sight including campers so we had to hike a good distance carrying our towels and swimsuits to get there but it was definitely worth it!
The beach was rocky and very crowded with lots of locals and their children having picnics and drinking wine and swimming and playing with their dogs. It was actually a very homey and charming sight to see. We used a public toilet to change in and picked our spot on the rocks and took the plunge into the river. The water was cold but felt great in the heat and the river was extremely calm there. In fact, it was shallow, which may be why it's such a popular swimming spot.
Up over our heads shining in the sunlight was the spectacular Pont du Gard in all of its glory. John and I floated on our backs underneath it's enormous shadow and just speculated on how many men and how long it took to build. Kids were jumping off of rocks from high above us into the shallow water right next to us. I remember once being so brave. But of course, no one dared to jump from the aqueduct itself. That is just too high. Besides, the public is no longer allowed to climb it. I guess perhaps someone did fall.
The beauty of that day is still with me and the best part is, it was free. Yes, you can swim underneath an ancient acqueduct and enjoy the river and beach and its facilities for free. You can't beat that.
Another great Roman aqueduct is in Segovia, Spain. I have no idea anymore how long it is but it is one of the most amazing sights I have ever seen in my life because it extends for miles outside of the city.
Segovia is up on the great plain of Spain and is a former royal capital of the once kingdom of Aragon. There sits one of the prettiest and most picturesque castles I've ever seen. It looks very much like the Disney castle at the original Disneyland.This was the home of the great Isabella of Spain. It stands up on top of the mountain, as was the custom for defensive purposes and is visible for miles along with the amazing Roman aqueduct.
As we were approaching Segovia by car we watched the castle and the aqueduct for miles as they loomed larger and larger. The sun was low in the sky and their golden colors were just spectacular. Everything in Segovia is made out of a yellow stone including the aqueduct. Perhaps it was just the time of day but the sight was magical.
We toured the castle, of course, and John misbehaved and sat in Ferdinand's throne when no one was looking. I have the picture to prove it. Then we went off to a closer look at the aqueduct.
This aqueduct was much more narrow than the Pont du Gard, only about two feet wide. There was no way to get inside of it either. Down below instead of a river was a busy 4 lane street with cars zooming in and out underneath the aqueduct's arches. We saw a guy up on top of the aqueduct very carefully walking across it. So, of course, John and I decided to give it a try. This one was easy to climb up on because it went right into the hillside where we were standing. But I'm telling you now, don't try this! It was very scary. There are no railings of course because people aren't even supposed to be up there, and it was narrow with a small stream of water running through it. Once small slip and we would have ended up a hood ornament on a very flat compact car or two. It's a beautiful thing though from below with it's double arches and I do highly recommend seeing it.
Next time you see an old building dating back to the 19th or early 20th century or even the old colonial buildings of Williamsburg, Virginia and are impressed, think about the Romans and what they accomplished. And then hop on a plane and go see for yourself. You will be greatly rewarded and also get a sense of how short our country and our modern life has been in existence compared to these great structures. It puts everything into perspective.
Adios Amigos!
Kir and frozen balls
Dear Reader,
I do tease my husband a lot but he dishes it out as well as he takes it. We were just laughing about this story awhile ago so he gave me permission to write about it.
It was on one of our many vacations in France that we decided to return to Provence and spend a week in a Gite', a rental house, in the countryside. I chose one nearby the great city of Avignon so we would be close to the major sights and towns such as Arles, Orange, Aix en Provence, and the little hill towns made famous by Peter Mayle. The gite wasn't exactly what I had in mind though. It was off a long and dusty dirt road into the countryside, a good 16 km from Avignon, so not at all convenient for dinner. When we first arrived it reminded me of a 60s commune. There were scattered little houses and laundry hanging outside and a barbeque pit and people were just sitting around playing guitars and smoking. Like a blast from the past.
Our little house was pleasant enough but the big draw for me was the swimming pool. It can be extremely hot in Provence in the summertime and the heat had come in force. Driving around all day and walking around on cobblestones and Roman ruins can build a big sweat so I couldn't wait to hit the pool. John and I changed into our swimsuits and went straight there with our towels and books for relaxing. We were looking forward to some wine and reading by the pool. Almost immediately I noticed something awry. There was a woman lying on a chaise lounge topless. I've seen this before many times at the beach but never at a hotel or gite'.
We jumped into the pool and started cooling off. It felt wonderful. Than a 20s something man showed up with a little boy and they both stripped off all of their clothing and jumped into the pool. This totally creeped me out. I know, when in Rome do as the Romans do but this was a bit too close a proximity for comfort and John was escpecially uncomfortable so we left. Every day after that we would peak at the pool to see if it was empty so we could swim but it rarely was. As a result, we didn't spend much time at our gite' at all which is a shame and a bit of a waste.
Provence is a bit like Sacramento in the summer except it can also be hilly and have narrow winding roads. Around every turn is a hill town it would seem or a charming town such as Fontaine des Vaucluse, where the Rhone River originates from a cave. It's a bit cheesy yet fascinating. The colors can also be quite vivid such as in Rocamador, a town on top of a orange and ochre colored mountain. It's absolutely brilliant. This is where the rock for the paint color, ochre, comes from. We sat on a cliff drinking a bottle of wine and watched the sun change the colors on the rocks. Another charming village called Isle Sur La Sorgue has canals running through it and makes you want to stay forever.
But for our money, the big working class city of Arles, has it all. It has a great Roman coliseum which is still in use today for bullfights, ruins of a Roman theater, a very old abbey and a Roman forum where artist Van Gogh loved to paint his favorite bar, the Cafe Nuit, which is still there and just the same. What we like the most about Arles is the food! I don't know why and I can't explain it but we both agree that the food in Arles is the best we've had anywhere ever. It's worth a visit just to eat there.
But I digress. Just to try something new on that particular visit to Provence we decided to visit the coastal city of Cassis on the Mediterranean because that's where the liquer Cassis is made. I also thought they might have a nice swimming beach supposedly of sand rather than rocks. So we drove to Cassis. It wasn't much to write home about. A pleasant enough looking place with some nice houses and a few shops but rather modern to the eye. The watefront was pleasant with the bobbing yachts and sailboats so we sat at a waterfron bar and drank Kir, which is the favorite drink as an aperatif in all of France. It's a simple drink made from white wine, cassis and a twist of lemon. Very refreshing and cheap. Cassis is a raspberry liquer.
We got quite hot at the bar and decided to take a swim in the ocean since we had our gear with us. One of the things I find so civilized about Europe is that they always have changing rooms at the beach which we used to get into our swimsuits. I didn't even see very many nudes on this particular beach which was a nice change. Once I took of my sandals I realized how hot the sand was. It was bloody hot! Burning hot. I started jumping up and down like a hot potatoe and then made a run for the water. Then the shock came. The water was cold. Not just cold, it was freezing. I had run all the way up to my chest before I realized how cold it was and had trouble breathing from it. But I looked around and saw several other people standing or swimming so I figured I wouldn't die. I waived at John to follow me in and as I watched him zig zag across the hot sand to reach the water I tried to warn him about the temperature but the ocean was too loud.
When John did reach the water he only made it up to his waist and started whooping loudly in shock. It was funny to watch him trying to walk on top of the water doing a strange funny dance as if that would keep him dry, the whole time whooping, whoop, whoop, whoop! Then I heard the funniest laughter like a catawalling high pitched laugh and looked around to see a lady standing there just howling. She was British and announced to John "Thank you for that. You just made my day." I guess she was bored or it had been a long while since she had seen a comedy but John was happy to oblige her, I think.
After we got out John told me it was so cold his balls hurt. I suggested we go sit on the hot chairs at a bar and get another kir. I'm nothing if not sympathetic.
Salud
I do tease my husband a lot but he dishes it out as well as he takes it. We were just laughing about this story awhile ago so he gave me permission to write about it.
It was on one of our many vacations in France that we decided to return to Provence and spend a week in a Gite', a rental house, in the countryside. I chose one nearby the great city of Avignon so we would be close to the major sights and towns such as Arles, Orange, Aix en Provence, and the little hill towns made famous by Peter Mayle. The gite wasn't exactly what I had in mind though. It was off a long and dusty dirt road into the countryside, a good 16 km from Avignon, so not at all convenient for dinner. When we first arrived it reminded me of a 60s commune. There were scattered little houses and laundry hanging outside and a barbeque pit and people were just sitting around playing guitars and smoking. Like a blast from the past.
Our little house was pleasant enough but the big draw for me was the swimming pool. It can be extremely hot in Provence in the summertime and the heat had come in force. Driving around all day and walking around on cobblestones and Roman ruins can build a big sweat so I couldn't wait to hit the pool. John and I changed into our swimsuits and went straight there with our towels and books for relaxing. We were looking forward to some wine and reading by the pool. Almost immediately I noticed something awry. There was a woman lying on a chaise lounge topless. I've seen this before many times at the beach but never at a hotel or gite'.
We jumped into the pool and started cooling off. It felt wonderful. Than a 20s something man showed up with a little boy and they both stripped off all of their clothing and jumped into the pool. This totally creeped me out. I know, when in Rome do as the Romans do but this was a bit too close a proximity for comfort and John was escpecially uncomfortable so we left. Every day after that we would peak at the pool to see if it was empty so we could swim but it rarely was. As a result, we didn't spend much time at our gite' at all which is a shame and a bit of a waste.
Provence is a bit like Sacramento in the summer except it can also be hilly and have narrow winding roads. Around every turn is a hill town it would seem or a charming town such as Fontaine des Vaucluse, where the Rhone River originates from a cave. It's a bit cheesy yet fascinating. The colors can also be quite vivid such as in Rocamador, a town on top of a orange and ochre colored mountain. It's absolutely brilliant. This is where the rock for the paint color, ochre, comes from. We sat on a cliff drinking a bottle of wine and watched the sun change the colors on the rocks. Another charming village called Isle Sur La Sorgue has canals running through it and makes you want to stay forever.
But for our money, the big working class city of Arles, has it all. It has a great Roman coliseum which is still in use today for bullfights, ruins of a Roman theater, a very old abbey and a Roman forum where artist Van Gogh loved to paint his favorite bar, the Cafe Nuit, which is still there and just the same. What we like the most about Arles is the food! I don't know why and I can't explain it but we both agree that the food in Arles is the best we've had anywhere ever. It's worth a visit just to eat there.
But I digress. Just to try something new on that particular visit to Provence we decided to visit the coastal city of Cassis on the Mediterranean because that's where the liquer Cassis is made. I also thought they might have a nice swimming beach supposedly of sand rather than rocks. So we drove to Cassis. It wasn't much to write home about. A pleasant enough looking place with some nice houses and a few shops but rather modern to the eye. The watefront was pleasant with the bobbing yachts and sailboats so we sat at a waterfron bar and drank Kir, which is the favorite drink as an aperatif in all of France. It's a simple drink made from white wine, cassis and a twist of lemon. Very refreshing and cheap. Cassis is a raspberry liquer.
We got quite hot at the bar and decided to take a swim in the ocean since we had our gear with us. One of the things I find so civilized about Europe is that they always have changing rooms at the beach which we used to get into our swimsuits. I didn't even see very many nudes on this particular beach which was a nice change. Once I took of my sandals I realized how hot the sand was. It was bloody hot! Burning hot. I started jumping up and down like a hot potatoe and then made a run for the water. Then the shock came. The water was cold. Not just cold, it was freezing. I had run all the way up to my chest before I realized how cold it was and had trouble breathing from it. But I looked around and saw several other people standing or swimming so I figured I wouldn't die. I waived at John to follow me in and as I watched him zig zag across the hot sand to reach the water I tried to warn him about the temperature but the ocean was too loud.
When John did reach the water he only made it up to his waist and started whooping loudly in shock. It was funny to watch him trying to walk on top of the water doing a strange funny dance as if that would keep him dry, the whole time whooping, whoop, whoop, whoop! Then I heard the funniest laughter like a catawalling high pitched laugh and looked around to see a lady standing there just howling. She was British and announced to John "Thank you for that. You just made my day." I guess she was bored or it had been a long while since she had seen a comedy but John was happy to oblige her, I think.
After we got out John told me it was so cold his balls hurt. I suggested we go sit on the hot chairs at a bar and get another kir. I'm nothing if not sympathetic.
Salud
Thursday, March 17, 2011
I didn't hit her, she fell...
Dear Reader,
As you may know, I have decided to focus my majority of travel sales upon cruises because cruising is the best bargain for your buck, especially for foreign travel and the week dollar. In order to get familiar with the new ships and exotic destinations, I've been taking a lot of cruises lately, including three European cruises. And I have been very impressed by the comfort of the staterooms, choices of bars and restaurants, the quality of the food, outstanding service and more space than you could imagine on a ship. You get all of this for less than the cost of a European or island hotel room plus your hotel room goes with you everywhere without having to pack and unpack. It's a great way to travel.
Last May John and I took our second Greek cruise, this one from Venice, Italy went to Croatia and Greece too. It was a great cruise and we had loads of fun and made some wonderful friends. After the shaky beginning of our trip, I am very pleased to report that all went well and the cruise saved the day.
John and I decided to start our vacation last year in Rome and had a lovely apartment in the Trastevere area across the Tiber River. It was wonderful too. The only problem is that our luggage got lost and my cell phone which was unlocked and supposedly useable in Europe didn't work. We filed lost luggage forms and then had to find a way to call our landlords to let them know why we were so late. As luck will have it there was a cell phone shop inside the airport. I showed them my phone and they studied it and determined it doesn't have enough bands for Europe. European phones have 4 bands. US phones have only two. So I had no choice but to buy another cell phone. At least my sim card worked in it. The nice people at the shop even called my landlord and explained what had happened to us. Our landlord asked us to take the train to Trastevere and then the #8 tram and exit at Piazza Belli and then walk to Bar Belli where we would meet to get our key and directions.
After a super long day we made it to Bar Belli, a cute little corner bar with everything from drinks to cappucino to breakfast cornetos, champagne, and sandwiches. Our landlord, Luigi, was waiting and gave us each a big hug and offered us each a drink. It was sparkling white wine and delicious. I was beginning to feel better already. We explained our luggage situation to him and he said they would deliver it to the apartment and not to worry. We should call the next morning and follow up with Lufthansa though. He walked us out the door to the right and to another door and voila! there was our apartment just steps away. Inside it was beautiful with a loft and air-conditioning and a full kitchen. The bathroom was modern too but had the typical tiny shower. We didn't care. We loved it!
That night we had dinner at a mom and pop Osteria next to Bar Belli which was one of the best meals I've ever had anywhere in Italy. John had their fruitti di mare, seafood pasta, and just raved about it. I had the linguine con vongole which was outstanding as well. We were happy and exhausted having been awake for over 24 hours after flying from Sacramento to San Francisco to Frankfurt to Rome and couldn't wait for bed. The dilemma was what to sleep in? Our street clothes were getting grimy already and it was bad enough wearing dirty underwear after showering so naked it had to be. I didn't even care. Once my head hit the pillow I was gone.
I guess we were both gone for a long long time because we didn't wake up the next day until 2:00PM! Oops. I tried to call Lufthansa but they always put me on hold and never came back. This was a problem. I wanted to go do some sightseeing but John was afraid to leave the apartment. This wasn't good. So we walked over to Luigi's jewelry shop and asked him to call Lufthansa and ask them to deliver our bags to his shop instead. Then we trudged over to the coliseum and forum which were already closed by then. Now the heat was getting to us both. My jeans weighed a ton and my knit top was too hot.So we decided we had to do some shopping that evening. Back to the Trastevere we went and following Luigi's recommendation we walked to a reasonable clothing store. It took a lot of searching but we found some underwear in John's size. I actually bought underwear from a street vendor outside! He had my favorite kind and was selling them for only 1 euro each. Then we bought a couple of t-shirts and were on our way. This was much better having clean underwear and sleep shirts. We had another terrific meal around the corner and slept like the dead once again.
We had only three days in Rome and spent most of our time dealing with Lufthansa begging them to bring our luggage before we had to leave for Orvieto. We did manage, however, to visit the Baths of Diocletian and the Roman Museum, neither of which we had visited before. We also returned to the Spanish Steps and the Trevi fountain, close to where I got so drunk many years before. And best of all, we really got to enjoy being in the Trastevere eating all of our meals there and enjoying every minute of it. One night in the small piazza Santa Maria en Trastevere, there were lots of people milling about eating gelato and drinking and children running around twirling luminescent rings and shooting small fireworks. It was a very pleasant spot.
Once we got our luggage everything was fine again. It arrived the night before we left Rome so we were able to keep to our itinerary which I had designed and the next day we boarded a train for the short trip to the hill town of Orvieto, one of my favorite towns in Italy.
After Orvieto, we stayed in Florence, Mantova, Bergamo, Soprabolzano in the Dolomites, ending our visit in Bassano del Grappa, where they make, you guessed it, Grappa. It was a lovely trip and the May weather was balmy and in bloom everywhere. We fell in love with Bergamo, a delightful hill town near Milan with wonderful architecture and views, but were stunned into silence by the great beauty of Soprabolzano and the other villages along the winding mountain road towards the top. This Alpine village filled with chalet homes and hotels, all with flower boxes of geraniums in the windows, all had balconies with amazing views of the green valley below as well as the city of Bolzano deep in the valley next to the river. It was so green, it almost hurt to look at. There are vineyards growing down the steep slopes and flowers everywhere. Surrounding this surreal spot are great jagged snow covered mountains which look close enough to touch. I knew right then that we would have to return here and return soon. There are hiking trails everywhere, a Victorian train that goes along the upper ridge from town to town and 3 very fast funiculars which zoom down to Bolzano at record speed, only 16 minutes from top to bottom. Plus, Bolzano has a world famous sight in their museum, Otzi the Iceman, the oldest mummy ever found dating back 5300 years! You can actually look at him behind glass and see his clothing and belongings on display throughout. This is an amazing thing to see and to learn from. Poor Otzi was shot dead by an arrow in the shoulder but didn't die right away and was trying to cut it off when he bled out. A classroom of school children were learning all about him with their teacher who was handing them items to guess what their use was. Fascinating.
We regretfully left Soprabolzano for Bassano Del Grappa which has a famous Roman covered bridge and their famous grappa distileries. It's pretty good stuff, really. My main choice here was a place to drop off our rental car close to Venice without having to drive into Venice. It was very convenient too. The last day we hopped a train for Venice which took just over an hour and were ready to find the shuttle bus for the cruise port.
No matter how hard you try to be prepared, some information is just impossible to get, even after you use all of your powers of persuasion and follow every link on every website and even call the cruise line before leaving home on more than one ocassion. Nobody knows the answer. It should be somewhere but no one knows where to look. Whenever I have a problem like this, I know right away that this is going to cause a major problem, be a real pain upon arrival and create unpleasantness at the very least. John does not take things like this well. All I knew was that there is supposed to be a shuttle bus at the Piazzale Roma across from the train station that will take passengers to the cruise ship port. Some said it was free. Others said it cost money. None knew for certain but it was moot anyway because we didn't have a clue which bus to take. They were all the same, the same color, same markings, no directions or names on them and they were in a hurry.
John suggested we just walk to the cruise ship port as it was supposedly only about 20 minutes away and I agreed to keep the peace. With our backpacks on and fully packed, we hiked up the walk along the highway into town and then from the top turned left and headed down towards the port. We could see the port sign in the distance ahead and knew we were headed the right way. The shoulder of the road was made of gravel and the asphalt edge of the road was uneven and jagged. John takes such big steps he doesn't even realize I'm dropping behind. I'm wearing my new Sketchers shoes with the very high soles which make them feel spongy to walk on. I love them because your feet don't feel the pavement at all or the gravel.
Just as I was about to catch up with him something strange happened so suddenly that I couldn't even fathom what was happening. My left ankle suddenly twisted all the way to the ground and my backpack slung to the left pulling me down. I had no time to react at all except to not try to use my left hand to break my fall. I was afraid I'd break my wrist. But the force of the fall was totally unexpected. I fell on my side and smacked the side of my head so hard I believe I was unconscious for a minute. When I tried to call out nothing happened and when I tried to sit up nothing happened. But I was aware that my ankle was killing me and my legs were bloody.
John noticed I wasn't behind him and saw me lying on the ground not moving. He said he spoke to me but I didn't respond. I was trying to tell him my backpack was keeping me down. He removed it for me. I was very quickly surrounded by nice Italians trying to ask me what happened. They all got out their cell phones and called for an ambulance against my protests. John started picking gravel and weeds out of my legs and arms and face. My forehead swelled up immediately into a huge bump which was frightening. I was afraid I had broken my ankle because of the pain. This would have ruined our cruise! The paramedics came and asked questions and wanted to take me to the hospital but I refused knowing I'd probably never make it back to the ship in time for the 5:00PM saililng. So they took me to their little medical building on premises and treated my wounds with ice bags and antiseptic ointment and bandages and then agreed to drive us all the way to our ship. This was great. I could not have walked that far for anything!
Once we arrived they wouldn't let me leave the ambulance until they spoke to a ship's officer. He told the paremedics he would take me so they put me in a wheelchair and up the ramp into the lobby we went. Then a ships doctor asked me some questions and advised that he could not let me on board the ship until I go to the hospital and have X-Rays. This definitely would not do! He said we could always catch up the next day in Croatia. Yeah, right, how? I told him I was going to be on the ship regardless and would sign any waiver he wanted. He finally compromised and made me promise to see him before we set sail and if he wasn't satisfied he'd throw us both off the ship. Yikes! Then to prove a point he made me stand up and walk myself all the way down the long ramp and up the ramp to the ship. This was very painful but I had to pretend it was nothing. John was impressed.
We were also hungry by this time so I headed straight for the buffet while John did his abolutions in our cabin. I knew the buffet would be crowded at that time of day in the middle of boarding so I hobbled there as fast as I could. There was a mob scene going on and people bumped and stopped moving and large groups had entire tables filled. I wandered and wandered and got madder and madder until I noticed a table for four with only two people sitting there. Normally I would never encroach on a situation like that but I was desperate so I just plopped down in the seat without even saying hello or asking for permission. It takes an awful lot trouble for me to lose my manners.
This was the luckiest thing to happen on our entire trip, sitting at that table with that couple. They were a delightful young couple on their honeymoon of all things and were very kind to me. They were quite solicitous over the knot on my head and proclaimed to be doctors themselves. This was wonderful. I told them the whole story and how the ships doctor threatened me and they thought that was ridiculous. Once it was all talked out I felt a lot better and almost my old self and we started having fun. Mike and Brinda are terrific people, funny, charming, full of life and stories that draw you in and make you want to hang out. By the time John found us we were all having a good laugh. The change in me was remarkable. After lunch John and I decided to get a tropical drink and let me soak my ankle in the pool. It felt good and so did the drink. Mike and Brinda said they'd see us around and maybe do dinner.
The mandatory life boat drill was to be at 3:30PM but the doctor had made me promise to see him at 3:30PM. I didn't know what to do and neither did John. The doctor wasn't in his office yet and we didn't know how to reach him but I know if you miss the lifeboat drill you're in big time trouble, so we had another tropical drink and went to the drill. Then the ship started to slowly glide down the Lido looking down on a miniature Venice that I'd never seen before. Each new view was spectacular and it was easy to spot every site, cathedral, tower, piazza as we passed by. What a sight! I wouldn't have missed it for the world. We forgot about the doctor.
That night our phone rang at 10:00PM and it was the doctor. He literally yelled at John for ten minutes because we missed my appointment. John tried to explain what had happened but the doctor was hopping mad. He said if I didn't present myself the next morning at the clinic by 10:00AM, he was going to throw both of us off the ship in Croatia. We got the point and promised.
The next morning I awoke and started to get dressed when John came in and stopped suddenly staring at me with concern in his eyes. He asked if I had looked in the mirror yet and I said I had not. So he warned me that it looked pretty bad and not to cry. I looked and was amazed to see that my entire left eye was black or rather a very bright purple both over and underneath. My eyelid was almost completely swollen shut and my face looked defomed by the huge knot on the side of my forehead. This was scary.
We went to the clinic straightaway and saw a very nice doctor. He checked both ankles because the right one hurt also and checked my head. He said unless I passed out or didn't wake up not to worry, ha. He gave me a brace for my ankle which helped me to walk much better and sent me on my way. The charge for this was 128.00 Eruos, which is steep, but I did later get reimbursed by Blue Shield so don't hesitate to see a ships doctor if you need one.
For the rest of the cruise my eye got uglier by the day. I don't use face makeup and had no means to cover it up except my sunglasses which were fine outdoors. But on board the ship, riding the elevators, so many women just glared at John thinking he had hit me until he explained that I fell. I would flinch when he moved as part of my act to confirm the beating. In the whiskey bar one night I sat next to a fun couple from New Orleans. The first thing the guy said was "You look like you've been in a barroom brawl". I admitted that I had and that he should see the other guy.
I finally bought some coverup makeup from shop on the Greek Island of Mykonos. The sales lady was a true expert with makeup and offered to do it for me. She was amazing and you could not see my black eye at all. I was almost normal again except for the limp.
Lucky for us, we did see Mike and Brinda again. They called our cabin and we arranged to have dinner together. It was so much fun. We all laughed and told stories until we realized we were the last people in the dining room. This became a habit with us throughout the cruise and helped to make it one of the best cruises ever. Meeting people of like minds and having fun is what cruising is all about. You never know who you will run into around the corner, at the bar, in the spa. You just have to be open and accessible and see what happens.
We were having a nice carafe of wine at a seaside bar in Mykonos and eating some delicious appetizers when Mike and Brinda walked by. We started talking and they joined us. Next thing we knew, there was another young American couple talking to us and they joined us too. They were on another cruise ship but wanted to stay in touch. Joe, the husband was on leave from Germany and Iraq and his wife, Erin was getting ready to go back home. They were very sweet and interested in the world. I liked them alot.
Even being decades older, limping around on a sprained and swollen ankle with a freakish giant knot on my forehead and a swollen shut purple eye, people are still willing to talk to me and to make friends. They are able to overlook my differences and see the real me. Travel more than anything I know makes this possible. So if you have an accident during a trip and it's not life threatening or completely debilitating, don't give up on it. You might miss out on the time of your life!
Cheers!
As you may know, I have decided to focus my majority of travel sales upon cruises because cruising is the best bargain for your buck, especially for foreign travel and the week dollar. In order to get familiar with the new ships and exotic destinations, I've been taking a lot of cruises lately, including three European cruises. And I have been very impressed by the comfort of the staterooms, choices of bars and restaurants, the quality of the food, outstanding service and more space than you could imagine on a ship. You get all of this for less than the cost of a European or island hotel room plus your hotel room goes with you everywhere without having to pack and unpack. It's a great way to travel.
Last May John and I took our second Greek cruise, this one from Venice, Italy went to Croatia and Greece too. It was a great cruise and we had loads of fun and made some wonderful friends. After the shaky beginning of our trip, I am very pleased to report that all went well and the cruise saved the day.
John and I decided to start our vacation last year in Rome and had a lovely apartment in the Trastevere area across the Tiber River. It was wonderful too. The only problem is that our luggage got lost and my cell phone which was unlocked and supposedly useable in Europe didn't work. We filed lost luggage forms and then had to find a way to call our landlords to let them know why we were so late. As luck will have it there was a cell phone shop inside the airport. I showed them my phone and they studied it and determined it doesn't have enough bands for Europe. European phones have 4 bands. US phones have only two. So I had no choice but to buy another cell phone. At least my sim card worked in it. The nice people at the shop even called my landlord and explained what had happened to us. Our landlord asked us to take the train to Trastevere and then the #8 tram and exit at Piazza Belli and then walk to Bar Belli where we would meet to get our key and directions.
After a super long day we made it to Bar Belli, a cute little corner bar with everything from drinks to cappucino to breakfast cornetos, champagne, and sandwiches. Our landlord, Luigi, was waiting and gave us each a big hug and offered us each a drink. It was sparkling white wine and delicious. I was beginning to feel better already. We explained our luggage situation to him and he said they would deliver it to the apartment and not to worry. We should call the next morning and follow up with Lufthansa though. He walked us out the door to the right and to another door and voila! there was our apartment just steps away. Inside it was beautiful with a loft and air-conditioning and a full kitchen. The bathroom was modern too but had the typical tiny shower. We didn't care. We loved it!
That night we had dinner at a mom and pop Osteria next to Bar Belli which was one of the best meals I've ever had anywhere in Italy. John had their fruitti di mare, seafood pasta, and just raved about it. I had the linguine con vongole which was outstanding as well. We were happy and exhausted having been awake for over 24 hours after flying from Sacramento to San Francisco to Frankfurt to Rome and couldn't wait for bed. The dilemma was what to sleep in? Our street clothes were getting grimy already and it was bad enough wearing dirty underwear after showering so naked it had to be. I didn't even care. Once my head hit the pillow I was gone.
I guess we were both gone for a long long time because we didn't wake up the next day until 2:00PM! Oops. I tried to call Lufthansa but they always put me on hold and never came back. This was a problem. I wanted to go do some sightseeing but John was afraid to leave the apartment. This wasn't good. So we walked over to Luigi's jewelry shop and asked him to call Lufthansa and ask them to deliver our bags to his shop instead. Then we trudged over to the coliseum and forum which were already closed by then. Now the heat was getting to us both. My jeans weighed a ton and my knit top was too hot.So we decided we had to do some shopping that evening. Back to the Trastevere we went and following Luigi's recommendation we walked to a reasonable clothing store. It took a lot of searching but we found some underwear in John's size. I actually bought underwear from a street vendor outside! He had my favorite kind and was selling them for only 1 euro each. Then we bought a couple of t-shirts and were on our way. This was much better having clean underwear and sleep shirts. We had another terrific meal around the corner and slept like the dead once again.
We had only three days in Rome and spent most of our time dealing with Lufthansa begging them to bring our luggage before we had to leave for Orvieto. We did manage, however, to visit the Baths of Diocletian and the Roman Museum, neither of which we had visited before. We also returned to the Spanish Steps and the Trevi fountain, close to where I got so drunk many years before. And best of all, we really got to enjoy being in the Trastevere eating all of our meals there and enjoying every minute of it. One night in the small piazza Santa Maria en Trastevere, there were lots of people milling about eating gelato and drinking and children running around twirling luminescent rings and shooting small fireworks. It was a very pleasant spot.
Once we got our luggage everything was fine again. It arrived the night before we left Rome so we were able to keep to our itinerary which I had designed and the next day we boarded a train for the short trip to the hill town of Orvieto, one of my favorite towns in Italy.
After Orvieto, we stayed in Florence, Mantova, Bergamo, Soprabolzano in the Dolomites, ending our visit in Bassano del Grappa, where they make, you guessed it, Grappa. It was a lovely trip and the May weather was balmy and in bloom everywhere. We fell in love with Bergamo, a delightful hill town near Milan with wonderful architecture and views, but were stunned into silence by the great beauty of Soprabolzano and the other villages along the winding mountain road towards the top. This Alpine village filled with chalet homes and hotels, all with flower boxes of geraniums in the windows, all had balconies with amazing views of the green valley below as well as the city of Bolzano deep in the valley next to the river. It was so green, it almost hurt to look at. There are vineyards growing down the steep slopes and flowers everywhere. Surrounding this surreal spot are great jagged snow covered mountains which look close enough to touch. I knew right then that we would have to return here and return soon. There are hiking trails everywhere, a Victorian train that goes along the upper ridge from town to town and 3 very fast funiculars which zoom down to Bolzano at record speed, only 16 minutes from top to bottom. Plus, Bolzano has a world famous sight in their museum, Otzi the Iceman, the oldest mummy ever found dating back 5300 years! You can actually look at him behind glass and see his clothing and belongings on display throughout. This is an amazing thing to see and to learn from. Poor Otzi was shot dead by an arrow in the shoulder but didn't die right away and was trying to cut it off when he bled out. A classroom of school children were learning all about him with their teacher who was handing them items to guess what their use was. Fascinating.
We regretfully left Soprabolzano for Bassano Del Grappa which has a famous Roman covered bridge and their famous grappa distileries. It's pretty good stuff, really. My main choice here was a place to drop off our rental car close to Venice without having to drive into Venice. It was very convenient too. The last day we hopped a train for Venice which took just over an hour and were ready to find the shuttle bus for the cruise port.
No matter how hard you try to be prepared, some information is just impossible to get, even after you use all of your powers of persuasion and follow every link on every website and even call the cruise line before leaving home on more than one ocassion. Nobody knows the answer. It should be somewhere but no one knows where to look. Whenever I have a problem like this, I know right away that this is going to cause a major problem, be a real pain upon arrival and create unpleasantness at the very least. John does not take things like this well. All I knew was that there is supposed to be a shuttle bus at the Piazzale Roma across from the train station that will take passengers to the cruise ship port. Some said it was free. Others said it cost money. None knew for certain but it was moot anyway because we didn't have a clue which bus to take. They were all the same, the same color, same markings, no directions or names on them and they were in a hurry.
John suggested we just walk to the cruise ship port as it was supposedly only about 20 minutes away and I agreed to keep the peace. With our backpacks on and fully packed, we hiked up the walk along the highway into town and then from the top turned left and headed down towards the port. We could see the port sign in the distance ahead and knew we were headed the right way. The shoulder of the road was made of gravel and the asphalt edge of the road was uneven and jagged. John takes such big steps he doesn't even realize I'm dropping behind. I'm wearing my new Sketchers shoes with the very high soles which make them feel spongy to walk on. I love them because your feet don't feel the pavement at all or the gravel.
Just as I was about to catch up with him something strange happened so suddenly that I couldn't even fathom what was happening. My left ankle suddenly twisted all the way to the ground and my backpack slung to the left pulling me down. I had no time to react at all except to not try to use my left hand to break my fall. I was afraid I'd break my wrist. But the force of the fall was totally unexpected. I fell on my side and smacked the side of my head so hard I believe I was unconscious for a minute. When I tried to call out nothing happened and when I tried to sit up nothing happened. But I was aware that my ankle was killing me and my legs were bloody.
John noticed I wasn't behind him and saw me lying on the ground not moving. He said he spoke to me but I didn't respond. I was trying to tell him my backpack was keeping me down. He removed it for me. I was very quickly surrounded by nice Italians trying to ask me what happened. They all got out their cell phones and called for an ambulance against my protests. John started picking gravel and weeds out of my legs and arms and face. My forehead swelled up immediately into a huge bump which was frightening. I was afraid I had broken my ankle because of the pain. This would have ruined our cruise! The paramedics came and asked questions and wanted to take me to the hospital but I refused knowing I'd probably never make it back to the ship in time for the 5:00PM saililng. So they took me to their little medical building on premises and treated my wounds with ice bags and antiseptic ointment and bandages and then agreed to drive us all the way to our ship. This was great. I could not have walked that far for anything!
Once we arrived they wouldn't let me leave the ambulance until they spoke to a ship's officer. He told the paremedics he would take me so they put me in a wheelchair and up the ramp into the lobby we went. Then a ships doctor asked me some questions and advised that he could not let me on board the ship until I go to the hospital and have X-Rays. This definitely would not do! He said we could always catch up the next day in Croatia. Yeah, right, how? I told him I was going to be on the ship regardless and would sign any waiver he wanted. He finally compromised and made me promise to see him before we set sail and if he wasn't satisfied he'd throw us both off the ship. Yikes! Then to prove a point he made me stand up and walk myself all the way down the long ramp and up the ramp to the ship. This was very painful but I had to pretend it was nothing. John was impressed.
We were also hungry by this time so I headed straight for the buffet while John did his abolutions in our cabin. I knew the buffet would be crowded at that time of day in the middle of boarding so I hobbled there as fast as I could. There was a mob scene going on and people bumped and stopped moving and large groups had entire tables filled. I wandered and wandered and got madder and madder until I noticed a table for four with only two people sitting there. Normally I would never encroach on a situation like that but I was desperate so I just plopped down in the seat without even saying hello or asking for permission. It takes an awful lot trouble for me to lose my manners.
This was the luckiest thing to happen on our entire trip, sitting at that table with that couple. They were a delightful young couple on their honeymoon of all things and were very kind to me. They were quite solicitous over the knot on my head and proclaimed to be doctors themselves. This was wonderful. I told them the whole story and how the ships doctor threatened me and they thought that was ridiculous. Once it was all talked out I felt a lot better and almost my old self and we started having fun. Mike and Brinda are terrific people, funny, charming, full of life and stories that draw you in and make you want to hang out. By the time John found us we were all having a good laugh. The change in me was remarkable. After lunch John and I decided to get a tropical drink and let me soak my ankle in the pool. It felt good and so did the drink. Mike and Brinda said they'd see us around and maybe do dinner.
The mandatory life boat drill was to be at 3:30PM but the doctor had made me promise to see him at 3:30PM. I didn't know what to do and neither did John. The doctor wasn't in his office yet and we didn't know how to reach him but I know if you miss the lifeboat drill you're in big time trouble, so we had another tropical drink and went to the drill. Then the ship started to slowly glide down the Lido looking down on a miniature Venice that I'd never seen before. Each new view was spectacular and it was easy to spot every site, cathedral, tower, piazza as we passed by. What a sight! I wouldn't have missed it for the world. We forgot about the doctor.
That night our phone rang at 10:00PM and it was the doctor. He literally yelled at John for ten minutes because we missed my appointment. John tried to explain what had happened but the doctor was hopping mad. He said if I didn't present myself the next morning at the clinic by 10:00AM, he was going to throw both of us off the ship in Croatia. We got the point and promised.
The next morning I awoke and started to get dressed when John came in and stopped suddenly staring at me with concern in his eyes. He asked if I had looked in the mirror yet and I said I had not. So he warned me that it looked pretty bad and not to cry. I looked and was amazed to see that my entire left eye was black or rather a very bright purple both over and underneath. My eyelid was almost completely swollen shut and my face looked defomed by the huge knot on the side of my forehead. This was scary.
We went to the clinic straightaway and saw a very nice doctor. He checked both ankles because the right one hurt also and checked my head. He said unless I passed out or didn't wake up not to worry, ha. He gave me a brace for my ankle which helped me to walk much better and sent me on my way. The charge for this was 128.00 Eruos, which is steep, but I did later get reimbursed by Blue Shield so don't hesitate to see a ships doctor if you need one.
For the rest of the cruise my eye got uglier by the day. I don't use face makeup and had no means to cover it up except my sunglasses which were fine outdoors. But on board the ship, riding the elevators, so many women just glared at John thinking he had hit me until he explained that I fell. I would flinch when he moved as part of my act to confirm the beating. In the whiskey bar one night I sat next to a fun couple from New Orleans. The first thing the guy said was "You look like you've been in a barroom brawl". I admitted that I had and that he should see the other guy.
I finally bought some coverup makeup from shop on the Greek Island of Mykonos. The sales lady was a true expert with makeup and offered to do it for me. She was amazing and you could not see my black eye at all. I was almost normal again except for the limp.
Lucky for us, we did see Mike and Brinda again. They called our cabin and we arranged to have dinner together. It was so much fun. We all laughed and told stories until we realized we were the last people in the dining room. This became a habit with us throughout the cruise and helped to make it one of the best cruises ever. Meeting people of like minds and having fun is what cruising is all about. You never know who you will run into around the corner, at the bar, in the spa. You just have to be open and accessible and see what happens.
We were having a nice carafe of wine at a seaside bar in Mykonos and eating some delicious appetizers when Mike and Brinda walked by. We started talking and they joined us. Next thing we knew, there was another young American couple talking to us and they joined us too. They were on another cruise ship but wanted to stay in touch. Joe, the husband was on leave from Germany and Iraq and his wife, Erin was getting ready to go back home. They were very sweet and interested in the world. I liked them alot.
Even being decades older, limping around on a sprained and swollen ankle with a freakish giant knot on my forehead and a swollen shut purple eye, people are still willing to talk to me and to make friends. They are able to overlook my differences and see the real me. Travel more than anything I know makes this possible. So if you have an accident during a trip and it's not life threatening or completely debilitating, don't give up on it. You might miss out on the time of your life!
Cheers!
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