Showing posts with label traveler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label traveler. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 07, 2017

2017 Ecuador * Decision * February 7

"To decide is to make peace within and let the chips fall where they may."
~Lisa Tabak


Cuenca, Ecuador


Special coffee, alone, at Sajsana and time to avoid thinking or doing much. Boredom and depression. Seems like now I'm just biding time to get home. Although home will not be better. Gray days both and cold versus warm.  


After a FaceTime with Mom yesterday and today, I have adjusted various flights and reservations in order to go home this week. I leave Monday and arrive Tuesday afternoon. (My flight is actually five past midnight in Tuesday morning and with layovers it will take the two days). 


Mom is wearing down. Over a week in the hospital now.  Heart and back issues, and pneumonia.  She puts a strong face on when I video-call, but I can tell.  Around her eyes are red-purple and sunken. She's dehydrated, terribly bruised where testing is done, she is not sleeping, eating or drinking fluids much at all.  She doesn't get up except to the bathroom with nurses help and she refuses OT.  My brothers say she is ok and shares that the medical staff considers that she is improving, but my observations and my intuitions convey otherwise.  


I'm going home. A month early, yes … but going. 


Actually once I had arrived here in Ecuador I wasn't excited anyway.  I usually am very eager when I travel.  It is not where I really wanted to be.  I have been here and it is fine, yes .. but if someone is looking for lots of sun and warmth, it is not here in these beautiful mountains. This is a nice, temperate spot, fairly clean and convenient for a  small South American city with wonderful variety .. but .. it is not my spot for now.  


My plans had been firm to visit the Pacific beach at Puerto Lopez for a week, then the my host family (from my teens) in Guayaquil - for what would have been probably my final visit with the mother who is 88 - but that is changed now. I need to get home to my own mother.   I am procrastinating telling my host sister because I know they will try to talk me into a quick visit before I leave. It would be too rushed and complicated. No, gracias, no puedo ya. 


Besides the consideration of my mother’s situation, I am intuiting big changes this coming year.  My grandson growing so fast, my daughter moving out of state, my granddaughter flourishing and in school now, my parents slipping away slowly at 90, and there is a need for me to exam where I am personally after eight years of single life and nearly three years without regular employment.  




In the courtyard below me as I sit and ponder in this wide, soft chair at Sajsana, there is a little girl about five years old, running around and dancing on the stone tiles. Her arms are flying in the air, her curly hair bounces with energy, and the joy on her face of just being alive and enjoying freedom is wonderful!  A traditional Ecuadorian ballad plays in the background. She reminds me of my beloved granddaughter on this day, her sixth birthday, when I cannot be with her.  Just the momentary thought of her is a small joy in this gray day. 


Suddenly the Andean sun breaks through the clouds in an attempt to cheer me.  Heavy white and gray clouds disintegrate to reveal a brilliant cerulean sky.  A single pigeon sits atop the brick toned tiled roof basking in the rays of sun. Behind me the massive cathedral stands sentinel over us all.  And the twirling girl in the pink dress soars on. 




More photos on Facebook:  Photos: 2017 Ecuador to Maine


 ~


My friends Dee & Scott have visited Cuenca a few years now for weeks at a time.  
Scott writes for Cuenca High Life and expresses the trials of being 6'6" in a community created by and for smaller people:

Dee's photo as we wait for the bus.  This sweet Indigenous lady came up to my waist.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

2016 Europe * Civitavecchia * September 18

"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet 
and the winds long to play with your hair."      ~Khalil Gibran



A single seagull slides on the wind with the brilliant white and gray clouds watching from behind.  The warm sun thrusts its long fingers through those clouds to poke playfully at the bird and the waves far below.  This joyous sea pounces again and again on the polished stones, those rocks that roll and roll with the waves until their sharp parts are worn to smooth suede.  A lone woman walks along the shore, hair and skirt flapping in the breeze.  She rejoices in the sun, the mist and the rounded stones beneath her feet.  She pauses, glances down, admires the rugged quilt of color and texture below.  Occasionally she stoops to pick up one special stone that has caught her eye, compliments its beauty, then either drops it in her linen bag or says, “You could use more spa time to soften your edges”, and tosses it back into the roiling waves.






“If you love me, you’ll bring it home to me.”  The most beautiful rock I have seen.  I posted its photo online and received such comments, but the trick was that I had left it on the beach atop that piece of bark I used as a base.  Fractured, crazed, rejoined by some amber mineral and fused to a piece of gray-blue rock then worn down over millennia to a soft palm-sized stone.  I’d never seen its equal.  This unique rock was but a beautiful memory now.  I wondered … and took a chance with the Universe.  When I returned this morning, I found it far too easily, just under the now overturned bark. Billions of rocks on the beach and this one is unique in all the world to me.   


"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world....”    
  ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince 


A black suitcase, black high heeled shoes, and a lump of clothes and a body.  Out of place. Curled on the white limestone stairs near the shore, sleeping.  Why, it’s the elegant lady I noticed while having lunch yesterday.  She had been basking in the sun on the shore side promenade, her shoe-clad foot pointing gracefully straight to the sky.  She seemed at peace and one with the elements surrounding her.  Now I wonder: did she have no place to spend the night inside?   
Does it matter?

 



˜

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Saturday, September 03, 2016

2016 Amsterdam * Bicycles and Canals * September 3

Rivers are roads which move, and which carry us whither we desire to go. 
~Blaise Pascal


canals and bicycles
Force myself awake by 8:30, after a thirty hour trip and landing at midnight.  I am ready to leave with the hotel shuttle to enter Amsterdam by 10am. A quick double espresso but I forget my sunglasses and shuttle schedule. What else?  Who knows. I'm here for the adventure!  I text my friend Elodie that I don't think I can meet up with her tonight. I am drained. 

I buy a jump-on-jump-off tour ticket for bus and boat on the recommendation of an Italian couple I met on the shuttle. There is free WiFi on the tour and it is a comfy way to see the city after a 36 hour trip.  We just passed Rembrandt’s last home. It’s tiny because at the end of his life, he couldn't afford his previous home. Ironic.  If he had a fraction of the money that one of his paintings would sell for today …

bicycles
The guide recording says that Amsterdam is mostly built on pillars driven into the sand below, like Venice, and the majority is reclaimed land.  That’s why many houses are tilting.  The American couple I met on the tourist bus want to eat at Hard Rock for lunch.  I walked about four blocks beyond and had a great typical Dutch sandwich and local microbrew.  It is SO worth getting away from touristy sections of the city.
canals and boats
I love how Amsterdam has so many different types of boats. From dinghies to boats that look like old dories refitted, to aluminum sailboats, refitted barges, and just plain old flat houseboats. 

tiny trucks everywhere
last old windmill
canal houses
canal homes and boats







as you wish


˜

Thursday, September 01, 2016

2016 Europe * Musings on a Plane en Route * September 1

"Two things you discover when you're older and wiser — 
you're not actually any wiser, and behind the wrinkles, you're not any older, either." 
~Robert Brault


A beautiful young man stands in the aisle of the plane. Reading from his mini iPad. Tall and thin but built so nicely. A near perfect body specimen, in my estimation. The kind I admire. Close cropped light auburn hair.  Tamed scruffy beard. Serious focus but gentle eyes that must twinkle when amused. As he reads his head moves gently from left to right and gently snaps back to the left for the next line. 


I don't believe he stands to show off. I think that he is in such good physical shape that it is simply difficult for him to sit for long, cramping periods of time. Crisp white T-shirt is a comfortable second skin to his torso. A gold band on his third left finger. Toned muscular arms and slightly popped veins reveal the fact he eats well and works out.  He takes care of himself.. and probably whomever else that gold band belongs. 

In the seat beside him, a copper skinned, chestnut-haired beauty.  In the third, window seat is a woman with smooth, deeply-toasted golden skin, champagne highlights on her dark hair. Her graceful shoulder is all that I can see, with a single soft freckle to accent it and maintain a slight distance from pure perfection. 

How the years pass and someday even as they take care of these bodies, time will change the texture and gravity will pull and the tone will change. 

I fight my conditioned thoughts about getting older. Some things sagging more and skin pocked with freckles, moles and sunspots.  Some slight puffs of untoned flesh - even though I am active and walk and move a lot more than many my age.  I fight that "aged" thought.  Age has nothing to do with much of anything. (Except the body's condition. Even if one uses surgery and chemicals and other extreme measures, age is still persistent in its effect. And it is obvious if you "adjust" things. If that is what you want to spend your money on.  Not I.)  

I want to travel and explore and discover.  I want to pick up my grandchildren and carry them in my hip and play in the trees with them. That is my choice. Those are the things I want.  I love what Caroline McHugh calls older people in her TED talk with her Gaelic brogue:  “wrinklies”.   I’m becoming a wrinkly and proud of it.





~


 

Thursday, February 19, 2015

2015 SPAIN * Valencia (February 19)

2015 SPAIN * Valencia

"Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness."  ~Ray Bradbury

France to Spain to Italy:
Yes, RyanAir is inexpensive - it will be less than $50 to fly from Valencia to Bologna next Tuesday - but I have had to leave all art supplies and much else behind in Payenché.  The suitcase is required to be tinier than carry-on and only a purse besides.  I was hoping to take a backpack, but, no.  And the weight limit was another ... well ... limitation.  Ah, well.  It is all a great adventure!  Camera, laptop, iPhone are the electronics.  And my small heated curlers, because they also serve as temporary bed-warmers (good to have on a damp, cool night).



February 16:  Valencia, Spain



I cannot imagine living for over 35 years in what I would term an apartment that generally has closed shades except for the living room where there is a small sliding glass door to get out onto the balcony. Small rooms, dark hallway, shades drawn – heavy shades as if someone could try to enter this place on the third floor.   (Of course, that is my personal impression but these heavy blinds are typical here.  As is what we might call an apartment, for them is their home.)  It’s a well-cared-for home, but definitely not for me!  Camila is nice, my age, and outgoing.  Very friendly and generous – we have had a couple breakfasts together, but then to our separate ways.



I arrived via Covoiturage with a two women (who reminded me of Jill and Keyly a lot): Katia and Sabine.  We drove from Bordeaux to Valencia after they had come from Paris.  It was a long ride and Katia was tired. There was heavy rain at times and through the mountains there was snow on the sides of the road – she is not accustomed to snow.  The temperature was up enough to be just rain on the surface thankfully and the highway was modern.  It must be beautiful through that part of Spain during daylight without heavy clouds.  I could catch glimpses of the landscape but not much.  Basque country.  Katia and Sabine would smoke hand-rolled cigarettes occasionally, asking me if it was ok (what was I to say?  “no”?!), with the windows cracked.  They had brought a picnic cooler full of food and shared some with me, since I had not eaten while waiting the four hours at the Bordeaux train station. They played good music but loudly – partially to keep Katia awake and focused.  We arrived four hours later than planned.  Mix-ups with a couple that had come with them from Paris to Bordeaux and within Bordeaux, and a bit of a “GPS is too late” tour of Pamplona. It put everyone else behind but the heaviest load was on Katia.  She didn’t complain and did all she could to drive well.  Believe me, at times I kept my eyes on her rear-view mirror.  I had chosen an Airbnb (with Camila) close to the highway that goes around Valencia, but the GPS took us through the city.  Sabine spoke both French and Spanish, so my head was totally confused by the time we arrived and we were all exhausted. 



Covoiturage is difficult when one does not have a cell phone that works in the country – so that you can text or call for the final last-minute arrangements.  I finally had to make a phone call with my US phone to meet up with them in Bordeaux – and it cost me nearly $8.  I need to consider a better way to communicate for the future. 



Still – it’s amazing to put yourself in the hands of total strangers and realize that you are taken care of.  These experiences are remarkable. 



Yes, "STOP"!
En route I saw a gentleman’s farm “Dubreuil” between Périgueux and Bordeaux.  On the Garrone River just outside Bordeaux are tiny houses on high stilts beside the river.   I wonder if they are for fishermen (like ice fishing shacks) or actual homes.  Just south of Bordeaux, near Mont de Marsan where it is flat, the auto route passes through hundreds or thousands of acres of pine trees that are cultivated and harvested.  Huge piles of logs in areas that have been there so long that they start to grow grass on top.   At some point further on, in the cornfields, I spot four tiny deer and two emu-like birds near the Reserve d’Ajunaix.  Soon there are no Twelfth Century buildings but many Basque style houses as we pass through the foothills of the Pyrenees and near the border between France and Spain.  I’m waiting for Customs.  No customs.  I had my passport ready and everything.  Again I wonder.  Gas is cheaper in Spain now.  We pass San Sebastien and head toward Pamplona.  There is a bit of snow on the distant mountain and as we pass through tunnels that S-curve through the mountains, tunnels of stone ceilings left natural, we come upon more snow on the fields and hills that we pass.  Berastegi, Navarra, and we pass an ancient aqueduct.  Villarquemado, Cella, Albarracin.  We are in the middle of Spain somewhere.  22:15 at night.  Every 10-20 kilometers or so there is another town and most of them have, in the center, a medieval tower or church that is usually lit up.  The Spaniards are proud.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see these towns during the day?  22:41 about 100km from Valencia and I just noticed the stars.  Shining brilliantly and sugar-sprinkled with more distant starts between the bright ones.  I don’t think I’ve seen so many stars in a long time.  Then the few red ones in a curving line near the horizon, lightly winking.  Ah!  Modern windmills.




Sunday after breakfast with Camila I walked downtown Valencia to the Old City.  I’d been there a number of times before when I had visited Eva in 2007 and it was nice.  The sun came out, warm (too warm for what I was wearing – since the morning goes from 45 to about 65 by afternoon).  Not sure of the distance, but I will Google Map when I have WiFi again …  I have to snag WiFi when I stop at a restaurant or café.  Sit down, have a beer or espresso, and send messages to family and friends to let them know all is well.



The antique section of the city has beautiful buildings and carvings and parts of the sidewalk are marble of colors from grey to green to burgundy and beige.  Wow ... marble for the sidewalk in the Center!  I took a couple panorama photos on my phone to try to catch the impressive buildings that surround the squares of the city.  The sky was a brilliant blue and the clouds were just enough of cumulus to create an amazing contrast with the buildings and sunlight.   It was good to walk after sitting in a car all day the day before.  (And the day before that, Vivi and a friend Marie Claude and I walked 7 kilometers through the French countryside and small towns – so beautiful).   I went to a small local restaurant for dinner about 8pm just down the street from the apartment here (Camila went out dancing with friends) and was waiting upon by a young lady who had lived in Florida for a year and a half.  She loved it there.  I gave nothing of my feelings for the State.  She was sweet.  I left a tip, American size, but not really sure how tips are considered here in Spain.  I have a good idea for France, but not so much here.  Eva will tell me.



9:30am.  Time for me to get my things together and head outside to meet up with Eva!  New adventures to come!



February 16, midnight



Today Eva and her parents picked me up, took me to the Abuelita’s home and we met with Juanjo’s parents there.  They had cleaned the house that has been empty since about 2006 when Abuelita died (Juanjo’s grandmother).  People are so generous!  It’s difficult to convey how nice they are. Juanjo’s parents and Eva took me shopping for some groceries:  oranges, bananas, bread, cheese, and juice.  Eva and I went downtown to get a map and the chip for the iPhone that they have (older model) so I can use it to text and call her while here.  It was 10Euro for the chip.  Then she had to go to the office where they are publishing the book for her Bario for Fallas.  She is in charge of it.  It’s like a school Yearbook with photos and write-ups and archival information that will be given to those involved in Fallas from her Community.  She and the advisor checked all the text and photos to make any final changes before going to print.  I know how time intensive and detailed all that work can be!   Afterward we walked a bit and went to her house then off to get the boys from school.  Mateo first from pre-school (he’s not quite three years old), then Alejandro (her sister’s son) and Pablo from their school a few blocks down the street.  All the parents and grandparents wait outside the school entrance on the sidewalk.  There were nearly a hundred.  Then the door is opened and everyone funnels through a corridor - which is actually under an apartment building above – and out into the patio area of the school where tons of kids from five upward are milling around playing and waiting for their relatives to take them home.  I’m not sure how, but each one seems to find their family member, and with a double kiss (right cheek then left) ask how the day was, what was special, give them a snack (usually a bocadillo – a sandwich of thick bread like a baguette, cheese and ham) and head out through the dark corridor again.  Home, play, dinner, and study time for Pablo.  He obviously was sick so we took him to see the doctor and get a prescription.  By the time we got home he was not doing well, but was such a little gentleman and so mature for his age.  I told her that he’s not a boy but a small man.  He stayed home the next day and by the following day was fine to go back to classes, which fortunately was only a half-day.



That first evening, Juanjo (Eva’s husband) arrived home, fixed me up with WiFi plug-in for the Abuelita’s apartment, put the chip in the old iPhone for texting and calling here, and showed me how to hook it all up when I got back.  It works great.  Again:  people are SO helpful and so generous.  He called the taxi with which, somehow, he has connections, and would NOT let me pay for it.  The taxi driver was so nice and had left his home, after he had already arrived there, to bring me to Abuelita’s.  Extraordinary.   Since Pablo is sick, I may not see Eva tomorrow …  I’m ready for a down day.  I’ll check the extra iPhone for the Valencia App tomorrow to see what is available for activities and things to visit. 





Feb 18

Amazing how lost one can feel without WiFi.  It worked fine last night after Juanjo fixed something, but then ran out part way into my conversation with Mom.  I didn’t know there was a limitation on usage – man, am I spoiled with forever unlimited access at home.  Now I can’t get anything to connect.  If I can get online – even if it’s in the middle of the night at home – I feel connected.  Connected to the outside world, to home, to family and friends.  Ah, well.  Fine.   Just relax, work on the blog entry for when I do have good WiFi, and get ready to go out.  Quick shower (“shower”) in the tiny bath tub after waiting for the water to warm.  I got the small heater to work last night, which was nice, and I went to bed toasty.  Eva and I will meet up al Centro before the boys are out of their half-day at school.



Spitz.  Fritz.  The old electric wiring in this house couldn’t handle something and a fuse blew.  I wasn’t sure how to fix it, although I thought I found the switch but didn’t want to risk damaging anything, I had to leave the house “un-finished” (me, unfinished: hair not set).  I found a bus to Centro, bought a coffee, and waited to meet up with Eva at the Ayuntamiento (which is a central meeting spot and bus drop-off in the center of the city).  I watched the buses 72 come and go, but didn’t see a lady with a stroller descend.  After about ten minutes the lady beside me, who had been busy on her cell (in the corner of my eye), stepped up to me and said “Are you waiting for someone?!” It was Eva!  We’d been standing side-by-side.  I had known that the boys were at school but I am so used to seeing her with the stroller that I forgot to look for her without the stroller.  And she missed me with my blond hair somehow.  We chuckled over that one!   



Fallas on display
We went to see the Ninots (parade sculptural figures) that are on display for judging for the Fallas.  They always fascinate me.  The artistry is beautiful and varied.  It is a great opportunity for artists around the city to acquire a regular income.  They can be fun or traditional or even political (there is one of Obama and Putin).  Simple, ornate, whatever the people want!   

 At home, Pablo practiced his school presentation last night that is spoken in Valenciano.  I could understand part (at first I thought maybe he was just not enunciating his Spanish well or my brain was on a language glitch, but then I realized he was speaking another language).  Valenciano is like Catalán, although not exactly, and is a mixture basically of Spanish and French and a bit of Portuguese and native tongue.  So cool!   The Fallas activities include traditional costumes, music, dances, crowing of local Fallas princesses and queens (Fallera infantil and Fallera mayor).


basic creative process
The creation of a Ninot usually involves the process of the community choosing an artist’s sketch, the artist carving Styrofoam, refining it, covering it with a type of papier-mâché, smoothing the surface, then painting.  Originally it was wood and “carton” (cardboard and paper) but has evolved.  I wonder about the burning of these modern materials and the toxic fumes they produce, but perhaps it is a special type of Styrofoam produced for this purpose.  Then there is the paint and other decorations as well.  Not everyone in the city is involved in the Fallas.  It is by choice.  Involved members pay a fee toward the community (barrio) preparations and activities.  It can last the whole year but is focused from mid-January through the first weeks of March culminating around March 19 with fireworks and the burning of the Fallas.




A couple days of clouds and occasional drizzle haven’t been the most inviting to wander the city or take photos but I have been walking anyway.  This city is brilliant in the sunshine.  White buildings, blue skies, dramatic architecture.  The weekend should be great and we have some ideas:  the Zoo, with Pablo as my guide (he loves animals), the beach (not to swim, but to enjoy), and other places around the city.  Tuesday, very early, I fly to Bologna.  These days are going faster than expected. I had considered going south for a day or so but the weather is worse there.  This is the best weather in the country now.