There’s not much to say about the trip back other than I completely wrenched some muscles in my back.  I have no idea what my bag weighed going out, but I looked a the weight at the check-in at Gatwick airport and when I converted from kg to lbs, it was around 43lbs!  I believe a small child stowed away in my bag somewhere.  With compliments to my pack, when it was on my back I didn’t feel it, but everytime I hefted it up there, I did.  It felt heavier to me and I still don’t know how.  I swear I did NOT bring much back beyond the odd fridge magnet and assorted very trivial and tiny souvenirs.  I brought back freaking carved rocks from Mexico that didn’t weigh me down as much.  I’m sticking to the story that a small child (or midget) made their way to the states unbenowest to me. It took nearly the week since for my back to sort itself.

Oh, I was frisked more than once and had my carry on luggage searched at Gatwick.  I have never gotten through Gatwick without being singled out for a frisking.  On the happy column (not the frisking), the plane had a lot of empty seats.  Bad for Delta, great for me.  The row of 5 seats I was on had three people.  I got to stretch out and read and read (9 hours of reading with maybe a half hour nap).

Anyway, quite settled back in here and I’ve had just a little time to edit some photos. This trip’s gallery is here:  England September 2008 Travel Photos

A few of my favs so far:

Big Ben

Big Ben & Churchill

Stonehenge Beneath a Moody Sky

Last update for the moment is that this weekend I’ll be in Montezuma for the annual Beaver Creek Festival.  I’ll have a vendor booth again this year but did not have time to enter the art contest.  The vendor booth was a lot of fun last year.  I’d been to the festival many years before and you run into a few people,but if you sit in one spot the whole day, it feels like you see everyone you’ve known.  Hope to see some of you there!

I’m also participating in the Oakhurst Arts & Music Festival on October 11th.  The Atlanta Photography Group is sponsoring a tent and I am taking part and will have work available there. Looking forward to attending!

Actually, I barely noticed if not for the piles of e-mail to wade through just now.

Last night in Luxor, we did the sound and light show at Karnac’s Temple.  It was… cheesy…  cheesier than expected…  didn’t cost a lot so okay, but it just went on far too long.  The first maybe 20 minutes is walking through the temple as various statues and buildings are illuminated and a booming voice tells their story.  The rest, which felt like hours, is sitting in some stands built by the sacred lake.  Now the booming voices tell stories about things that happened at Karnac.  The light show gets kind of stale because there’s very little variation in the lighting and after a bit, personally, the stories just kind of melted together.  All I remember is the final grand music to let me know to get up and move.

Afterwards, we all went as a group to an Irish pub to celebrate the birthday of one of our group members.  I was totally exhausted.  And I had eaten my McDonald’s meal after navigating the market one more time.  But it was still a fun time.

Repacked when I got to the room so that I could sleep as late as possible.

Early start, we went to… karnac’s temple…  Okay, actually, I had a far better time in the daylight.  The local guide took us around and told us about the temple, the statues, etc.  And then we had some time on our own to wander about.  Really beautiful temple.  But I am well and truly templed out now.

After that, the long, long ride to Hurgurda (sp?).  Nothing much to say about the place, it was only a night stop before catching the ferry the next morning.  Had an okay meal and stayed in what is now the champion of seedy motels for me personally.  The bathroom was more caulk than tile and the shower was the bathroom…  I knew such existed, but never have I seen it in person.  Glad it was just a stop over and nothing long term.  Sam had warned us that it was not a great stop.  And in fact, we’re the last tour to go through Hurgurda.  Next one will wrap back to Cairo to get to the Sinai Peninsula.  Trade off, much longer on the road but no dodgy hotel and no danger the ferry won’t run (which was a real concern).

Anyway, the ferry did run.  Two hours, bumpy sea, but I fared okay.  Then another couple of hours by bus to the Sawa Camp in Nuweiba.  This was a gem of a place.  Just incredibly beautiful.  We were on the red sea and you could see Saudia Arabia on the opposite side from our huts.  Very primative.  Shared bathroom facilities – the showers had hot water heated by the sun (very hot if you slept until 11am like I did on day 2) and electricity was only available in the evenings.  But I swear it was a little piece of paradise and I’d have stayed there for days.  Great food, warm sun, long beach filled with little straw huts.  I can’t say enough nice about this place.  It was totally the decompression I needed.  Day two there was totally a free day.  Some in the group went scuba diving.  A handful of us stayed behind and just enjoyed that place.

After a day and a half, it was time to move on.  Regretful farewells to the puppy and cats and that gorgeous bit of beach and then onto St. Katherine’s.  This is where we got to see an ancient monastery, which is home to the apparent descendent of the original burning bush.  And where we climbed Mount Sinai.  Now, I have to preface this by saying, I’d been dreading this for days.  I couldn’t make up my mind what to do.  Half of my brain said to sit it at out at the hotel.  Another half said to do it.  Some little corner suggested the camel ride might not be so bad.  You see there were a few options.  Climb the 3750 steps (not so much steps as rocks positioned in such a way as to approximate steps), take the camel route up and then do the last 750 steps yourself, or just stay behind.  One member of the group stayed behind as she was sick, another did as she knew she couldn’t make it.  And one took the camel route.  Smartest one of the 10 of us who started up.  Another had a bit of a panic attack and decided not to go.  Sam, our guide stayed behind and the Bedouin guide went with the rest of us.  I constantly lagged behind.  I was so unprepared.  Principally, I just could not catch my breath in the thin air.  The rest was sheer not being in shape after having had so many phsyical issues keeping me off my feet in 2007.  One of the group, Cameron, hung back with me.  I really appreciated that.  I’m sure he could have gone faster.  And in fact, after we were on the last leg of the 750 steps, I told him to go on because I was not sure I was going to get up in time for the sunset.

I just did.  Drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, I lurched through this little iron gate at the top and saw the sun just hovering over the mountains surrounding Mt. Sinai.  I was, in fact, the last person to reach the peak yesterday.  Not per se what I wanted to achieve, but I pushed so far past what my body wanted that it was an achievement none the less.

Then back down in the dark.  In the dark, after the 750 steps, we took the camel route by foot…  This was worse for me in some ways than what we had done before.  I took one misstep early on and felt my ankle protesting.  It hurt for about 3 minutes and I thought I had sprained it again, but it cleared.  It was a clear warning message that I had to take it easy.  So, I was also the last person off, still with Cameron.  As soon as I saw the van, loaded even with the folks who stayed behind, I had to speak to Sam.  The next stop was dinner at the Bedouin guide’s house.  I hated to miss it, but I had to go back to the hotel.  I knew I needed to take some asprin and just crash or I would be a waste today.

I was dropped off and changed and took aspirin and crawled into bed with my bottle of water.  My legs were literally shaking.  I obviously pushed a bit far!  Just to add insult to injury, the power went off several times.  I had images of sleeping in that room and freezing to death and all in the world I wanted at that moment was to be home in my warm bed and familiar covers.

By the time morning came, I was in a better mood.  Showered and packed my bags and wandered down to reception.  I was a bit off on the time.  I thought we were meeting in the lobby at 8:30am, but we were to be leaving at that time.  I had 15 minutes to shovel breakfast down and get on the bus for an 8 hour drive back to Cairo.

The only stop on the way was for lunch.  My legs felt like stove pipes at that point.  But all is loosened up now.

Tomorrow is our last true day of the tour, but we are doing the final group dinner tonight as Sam will be moving over to another hotel for his next tour tomorrow night.  During the day tomorrow, we meet up with our local guide again and we’ll see a mosque, a church, and Khan el Kalili market, the largest in Cairo.

I have to get up at some ungodly hour on Sunday.  Not sure when, but Sam said he’d let me know.  My flight out is at 5:15am.  Connection in Frankfurt before I get back to the states and continue the reverse journey on Marta, to my car, and finally back to my own bed again.  Egypt has been fantastic, but 15 days in a group definitely pushes my limits a bit.  It’s absolutely not a dig at the people, just the way I am.  I needed some more me time along the way and the beach day was about it.  Still, I would do it all again.

So, without further adieu…

Sunday evening, met the whole group. Not quite as diverse as the Haggis tour last year. Intrepid Travel was recommended to me by an Aussie, and it’s Aussie based. Of the group, 9 are not only from Australia, they are from Melbourne. Three of them by way of the UK where they are working now. And then there are three Americans, including me. We all went and had dinner together in a little cafe. Had Egyptian pancakes with cheese and veggies. Quite tasty! Was a fun evening and as everyone knows my predilections towards familiar food, something I would not have done solo.

Monday morning, up bright and early. We had to be packed and downstairs by 8am. We kept two rooms at the Victoria to store our bags and to clean up later. Headed down to a nearby metro stop and took it to Giza station like the Egyptians do. Did not see any other tourists there. Jam packed in with everyone else (really the cars looked like sardines). There are women only cars and our guide for the Giza pyramids and museum took the women of the group with her. Their cars looked more filled to the brim than ours.

Arrived at Giza station, and Sam and Ola, our local guide, secured two taxis for us. The taxis have to be seen to be believed, black and white 1970′s era station wagons. Tattered, but they got us to the Giza plateau. And, as I had already read, the pyramids are surrounded by Cairo, not isolated as most pictures (including my own) portray it.

Still, what can you say about the Giza pyramids? Amazing? Around 4,000 years old and just mammoth. You have to work a bit to imagine them as they originally looked sheathed in another layer of stone, but they are still just phenom. We journeyed around all three. We were immediately beset upon by vendors, as we had been warned. The worst I’ve ever seen, trying to press things into your hands, lay them on your shoulders, whatever it took to get them into your hand. Of course, “free, free, free – Christmas present!” Rightttt….

Circled the first pyramid, the largest, the tomb of Khufu. It cost 100 pounds to go in (about $20), but Sam recommended the second one. We all waited for the second, the pyramid of Khafre, far cheaper – about $4, and a bit less time to crawl through. Glad of that. The first tunnel down was well lit, but the next tunnel up into the King’s chamber was not… pitch black, scrambling up hill…. beaned my head several times. And once inside, the air is stifling, hot, thick, and feels like it’s been thrice-breathed. I was ready to get out, but the line out moved far slower. It was still a once in a life time and amazing thing I wouldn’t trade.

We checked out the smallest pyramid from a distance and then headed down to the Sphinx. The Sphinx is not as large as you imagine it, but still incredible. It was originally carved out of one block of stone. There’s been some repairs, though, and it’s not as obvious anymore that it was originally all one piece. They are still restoring it so you can not get down close to it right now.

After we exited the plateau, we walked to lunch. Passed a perfectly good pizza hut and KFC combo. Ha! Literally right outside the gate, good product placement guys! Anyway, we walked on to a little hole in the wall I would again have never thought to try. Had something called Koshary (sp?) which was a sort of pasta mix with veggies and a meat sauce. There’s also a hot sauce you can add. I sampled just a bit (only one at my table who did) and nearly fried myself. Hot means hot!

We made our way out into the streets and found another set of taxis and rode to the Egyptian Antiquities museum. Followed Ola around and saw the wonders. It’s a lot like the British Museum, vast and overwhelming. Saw the highlights and headed out with the UK Aussies to find a taxi. Interesting experience, of course. We’d been told what to pay and kept having to fight to pay that until we found a taxi who accepted the fare. Made our way back to Victoria and cleaned up and prepared to move on.

This was, of course, New Year’s Eve, and the itinerary had us on the train to Aswan. The train was over an hour late, but it was passable. Clean transportation and had sleeper cars. New Year’s Eve was unique to say the least. The club car was packed with an array of tourists that could have been ripped from the pages of a novel. It had a slightly seedy trailer park feel to it with the aging wood paneling and very dated furnishings, but the crew hosting the car were just a riot. Did all sorts of stupid pet tricks and danced to out there Egyptian music for us. I left for awhile. It was packed and smoke-filled. Came back closer to the end of the night and called in New Years with 7 of my fellow travelers. The Americans were fully represented, even though our New Years was truly 7 hours later. The train stopped somewhere shortly after midnight which was awesome as I got to drift off to sleep.

Got in a good five hours and then slept off and on for another 1.5 before finally getting up in Luxor station. Khan, my roomie from Australia, was also awake so we stood out in the hall and watched the scenery go by once the train went into motion again. It was still nearly 3 hours to Aswan. By that point, 95% of the group was in the hall of the sleeper car. Had breakfast shortly before arriving here.

After checking into the Nile Hotel and cleaning up a bit, we all went across the Nile to Elephantine Island, home of the Nubians who were displaced by the Nile dams flooding their homelands. Got to meet a family that lived there and then took another boat ride to the edge of the Great Sahara.

It turns out Sahara is a bastardized version of the Arabic word for desert, so Sahara Desert is actually desert desert. From there we all got camel rides across a piece of the Sahara. Another experience of a life time, but I can’t say it was all roses. I was not at home on top of that camel. I didn’t feel like anything was holding me on. I know the guide knew that because I was one of the ones who never was just let go. Only when the camel got a little speed did I feel tied down and, of course, the guide running along could only do so much of that. Oh, to understand, the saddle or whatever, is a sort of platform with a wooden post that you hold onto. Gravity and your balance is about it for securing you to the beast. I held onto my post for dear life, only got a few pictures. But it was a beautiful sunset ride.

At the end, we went back to the Nubian village and had a dinner (ehhhh, it was alright, but I was not as excited as the rest of the group, remember tho, I am a picky eater), and then dancing and singing. I also got some shopping done from some of the handcrafts done by the Nubian women there.

Back across the Nile and to bed for all too short a spell. To go to Abu Simbel requires getting up at 3am. First, Abu Simbel is a temple to Ramses The Great. It was moved in the 1960′s because it would have been flooded by the High dam. So, it’s a bit Disney feeling, but entirely worth it. It was originally carved out of solid rock and was a testament to Ramses power to the Nubian people entering the Nile from the south. It was cut up and reassembled on higher ground. Incredible carvings. VERY crowded. Unless you’re taking a plane down, you must go in a convoy that leaves at 4am. And you must return in the convoy. There were hundreds and hundreds of buses and cabs and mini-buses going down. Took about 3 hours. We got there just shy of 8am and had to leave just shy of 9am. So, about an hour and back on the bus.

Next stop was almost back in Aswan at Philae, another set of temples relocated. These were on an Island and moved to another higher island. This one was a test. We were all tired and the boat drivers kept fighting us on price. Today was a “free day” even though we all choose to stay together. So, Sam wasn’t with us but had told us precisely what to pay for everything we wanted to do. Finally they bended to the legit price and we spent half an hour on Philae. Very interesting, the temples there are a blend of Egyptian and Roman.

Now back to the hotel… exhausted but happy.

Tonight a group dinner, and in the morning on to the Felucca, an Egyptian sail boat, for two days down the Nile towards the Valley of the Kings. We’ll sleep and eat on the boat. Make occasional stops along the way and moor at night. This will be the closest to camping I’ve come in quite some time.

Having an incredible if tiring time and will be out of touch for a bit. Hope everyone is having an incredible new year!

Accommodations

It should surprise few that once I was spending my money, I was booking a Hostel. There weren’t many options in that category in Boston, but one of the handful had some of the best ratings I’ve seen. The HI Boston Hostel is located in the Back Bay neighborhood of Boston. Fairly typical hostel fare but easily accessible by Subway (or the T as it’s known in Bean Town) or by foot for the ambitious walker. Not the most social place I’ve stayed, but then I was hardly there so maybe I don’t know from where I speak.

While the hostel was typical enough, I had a little fun with room-mates. Nothing that approaches epic proportions, just funny. On day One, I checked in and they assigned not only room but bed as well. Okay, I’ve been to far more hostels that just assigned the room and it was a first come first served thing on which bed you got. Of course, I get up there and once I discern where the # is on the bed, realize that someone has actually already set up camp there… Oh well… one left, I don’t really care. If it had been a top bunk with the walking boot, I MIGHT have had more concern.

Day two, I was first out in the morning. When I meander back in around 9pm, there’s been a complete (save me) turn over of occupants in the room. In fact, at this point, it looks like there’s just two of us in there. I did think it was a little odd that ALL of the beds had been re-made including mine. Not sure what was up with that as typically you dump your linens on the way out and they just bring up fresh ones. Not sure about long term stays… Now, mine was also made up… decidedly not as I had left it. New linens and made up… Odd… The other roomie heads out for awhile and I read and eventually change for bed. Flash forward to 1 or 2am and someone is waking me up… huh.. wha… To inform me I’m in her bed… uhm… Half awake and totally unable to see, I explain that night one someone was in my bed so I had ended up there… She then complained she had “prepared that bed…” Okay… and I’ve slept in it for like 3 hours now… what sane person would want a bed after a complete stranger has slept in it for god knows how many hours?? I didn’t say that part, I just turned over… c’mon… there are four empty beds, tuck the top sheet in, pull up the comforter and go to bed… geezzz… Okay, so my karma points may be in danger… but I didn’t complain when I came in and had to adjust to a different location… goodness…

Never saw the mystery waker-upper after that. I was up bright and early on Sunday and there was a lump in another bed. When I got in at 11:30pm, that lump was gone and I had another new roomie who got maybe a grunt and a wave out of me as I set about to quickly getting my bags prepped, etc. as I had to be up at 4am and the more I did then the less everyone would hate me at 4am…

Of course, it turned out to be a full room the last night. What else would one expect? Probably 12:30am or so, I hear a small group come in and quickly prep for bed. I normally sleep through such things but my brain was preoccupied with listening for my cell phone alarm. So I jerked awake when they came in and, as is the ritual, they tried to imagine that every zipper and velcro sound is more silent if drawn out ten minutes longer by doing it slowly. No worries, I returned the favor a few hours later…

The City

This was a perfect time to visit. I left temperatures hovering around 100 degrees Fahrenheit… Friday it was around the mid 80′s, and everyone described it as hot… hah! As if to delight me even more, the next day, the highs fell into the 70′s and it was super windy! YES! It was like taking a vacation from the season back home. I swear, it was autumn!

On top of the weather (which I might not be so gleeful about, in say January, Boston is just a great place to visit. The core city is easily a walkable place. The first afternoon, I walked, aircast and all, from the Back Bay down into Boston Commons in around an hour or so. And it was a leisurely walk filled with beautiful architecture. I’m sure there are unsavory areas of the city to be found, but the ones that surround the typical out of towner seemed pretty tame.

The first night, I took the T out to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. I had read that they were having a Hopper exhibition and I honestly had no clue who that was until I looked at some of his art and realized that I’d seen his stuff for years and just never connected a name to it. So, I was all set to see that exhibit and the MFA is open late on Fridays. Perfect! Or so I thought… In reality, the exhibit was sold out and the late on Friday thing is for a kind of hoitty toitty arts thing. There was a section of the museum closed off for us interlopers with rock music and people dressed to the nines. Of course, this would be the section with the words “Old world masters” over the top of the door… so I can’t report much on that section of the museum… All told, though, the museum is a credit to the US. The best museum I’ve been to in the states. Pales when compared to the might of the National Portrait Gallery and the British Museum, of course, but what doesn’t?

And this comparison is appropriate because the MFA combines these. You can see Egyptian sarcophagi, Roman statues, and a flock of Monet’s all in the same building. The exhibits are really and truly that varied. That’s why it’s so impressive. All this under one roof. And even though I am miffed at missing the Hopper exhibit and seeing a section of the Museum, that they are making it an active and alive place is to the credit of MFA Boston. A must visit in my opinion.

Boston is, as said, a walkable city, but given the walking boot thing, I figured if I was going to take it all in on a compressed schedule, I was going to have to check out alternatives. There are a number of trolley tour companies, but I ended up going with Old Town Trolleys. While fairly typical, it’s a tried and true business plan, which is why there are so many. The trolley has a tour guide. You can ride the loop and listen to one guide, or you can hop off at your convenience and take in a site and then hop on another trolley coming to pre-determined stops every 15 minutes. There were plenty of stops I skipped getting off as seeing them from the trolley was more than enough. My first actual stop was for my Harbor Cruise, which cost a whole $7 extra! And being on the first boat out meant that it was not at all crowded.

I also spent time touring the U.S.S. Constitution, oldest “active” military warship in the world. Also being early, I was able to get through the line and take the full tour pretty much as quickly as one could expect. Old Ironsides is free to the public and a true must see if you have any interest in history and/or sailing ships.

Also took in Paul Revere’s house… okay, it’s interesting as it’s the oldest wooden structure in Boston, built in the 1680′s . But honestly, I’m not sure the $3 was worth it… Granted that’s not much, but $3 seemed a lot to be mashed into such small quarters with throngs of tourists and what seemed more than anyone’s fair share of children who are at the age they’ve mastered speech but not the art of not speaking… I skipped the last room and just darted for the exit. I’d seen and been hemmed in enough!

Also sat in and listened to the history of Old North Church which was much like the old church at Colonial Williamsburg. I also saw Trinity Church, which I would scarcely have recognized as a church. The park in front of it was the only place I saw that reminded me of Atlanta as the benches all seemed to have been taken by the homeless. Interesting contrast in front of an ornate old church and the tallest building in New England… At least the homeless in Boston were not as aggressive as Atlanta’s on the panhandling. The second night ended in the market surrounding Faneuil Hall – very lively and touristy and just plain fun.

Having seen all the key points in Boston, I had to do my shtick where I find something more touristy and less history on a given trip. I got up bright and early to catch a Ferry out to the Boston Harbor Islands. I only ended up visiting two, Georges Island and Lovells Island. I had hoped to get out to another, but after a couple hours on each, I would have had to have waited two hours to get on a boat from Georges out to one of the smaller ones, plus travel time, plus time on the island, etc. Anyway, I was already sun burned and wind burned and just plain burned out. The Islands are beautiful, but I think I was expecting something a little more like Georgia’s barrier islands. Instead, I found, decaying old forts and rocky beaches. I think I had more fun just ferrying about on the boats part of the day, honestly. I suspect in the right season they are probably incredible places, or I was too tuckered out to enjoy it.

The rest of my last day, I spent wandering the harbor and the old North End. Boston’s north end has been one time home to most of the city’s ethnic minorities at one point or another. The last wave was the Italians, and it still has a decent sized Italian population. And, I happened to be visiting on feast weekend. Much fun! I had some great pizza (better than what I had in Sorrento!) and some gelato! YAYY!! Then I did my sunset and dusk photos of the city skyline that are probably nothing new or unique but they are my take on the city without having seen any skyline photos before.

The last thing on the agenda was a ghost tour. Not a serious ghost tour, a hokey fun filled horror fest. Black trolleys with tattered old curtains, music from horror and horror comedy movies, and the guides were dressed up as spooky characters. The one for my tour was a demon who was paying penance for writing a story about Unicorns by working with tourists. The tour was also from Old Town Trolleys and was a total riot. Macabre tales on the trolley were combined with more ghoulish tales while visiting the old city burying grounds in the dark. Part of the proceeds go towards the preservation of those sites.

I slept most of the flight to Atlanta. Not the norm for me, but combined with little sleep and a great weekend, it was no surprise. It was happenstance that I got to go, but it’s a trip I’d happily make again, and we all know my predilection is not towards seeing the U.S.

And then I had dinner… at Chili’s, and the irony of it all… I had not had one meal where my server did not speak English. In my entire trip, I could count that at meal time, even if I tried to speak in Spanish, they’d realize I was native English and that would end that. I found myself near Chili’s and the night before had been a local dish, so I figured what they hey, and I get a server with no English…. and he apologized and I said it’s okay… and we muddled through… The funny part was, the menu I got (and I’ve no idea if they have separate menus) was entirely in English. It was obviously an American menu, the prices had little stickers over them with the pesos… And we did muddle through, I was able to ask for my coca light (diet coke) and pointed at my old timer burger (well, duh, it’s not like they had the item in Spanish, I’ve no clue how to translate that!), and when it came time for the check, I actually remembered how to ask for it. This was an important point because in Mexico they consider it rude to bring it without being asked. They will, and did, whisk my dishes away on more than one occasion and did not bring the bill until asked. I rather liked that. Not being hurried out as if I’m wasting valuable space…

And my day wrapped up more or less. I listened to the English music station while icing my knee (which ironically finally acted up on my last day, go figure). And I finally comprehended the meaning of “solo hits en ingles”. I’m sure no one else was concerned, but it was these little daily victories that made me feel like I made some inroads into the language barrier. I spotted a parking lot sign informing that there was a 30 minute limit for parking there… the word was solo… And then I clicked back to days earlier when I was asked if I was traveling with family and I said “solo” and the person I was speaking to got excited and said, “You know Spanish!” No…. solo = only… you could only park for 30 minutes, and 97.7 only plays hits in English. Now, I still have a bone with their choice of the word hits for some of what I heard, but it was an amusing station nonetheless. You could hear something from the 70′s stacked up against a hit from the 90′s followed by something playing right now in the U.S Reminded me of out little local AM station back in the day.

I woke up with no alarm this morning at 6:30am… my flight out wasn’t until 2pm… Merida’s “international airport” is very tiny with two gates. But being a different country and one with whom I have no experience with outbound security or immigration, I decided I shouldn’t dawdle too much. I had a leisurely morning at left close to 10am. I meandered down one of the main streets to a park I had been told had buses running to the airport. And I got there… and all the streets around the park were closed for some festival… of course… sigh… And this was why I didn’t dawdle. I saw a guy meandering off with a rolling suitcase. I started to join up since he seemed to know what he was doing. And then I decided that I just didn’t feel like trying to find the bus, or a collectivo or whatever might be had. I crossed the street to a big sign that said “Taxi” and asked the guys sitting under it about a bus or taxi to the airport. Now, it turns out they were just sitting under the sign, but give the people of Merida their due, they saw the guy in need and helped me flag down a taxi. The taxi was like most of the ones I saw in Merida… ambitious in its desire to be a taxi. my pack and me overflowed the back seat. But it was a $6 ride and I happily tipped him some on top of that leaving me just enough to grab lunch with my last pesos in the airport.

I sat for two hours waiting for my flight. In that time, and during the two and a half hour flight here, I began reading Kerouac’s On The Road which I had bought ages ago and been meaning to read forever. I’m a hundred pages from being done, but it’s quite a read. I guess every so often one should toss some literature into their lives that doesn’t involve pictures. It was a good way to end my own journey, which of course bears no real resemblance to Kerouac’s.

And then in the U.S., I got to endure the insanity that is our security… I’ll probably end up on some special big brother list for this, but wow…. I mean… this is out of hand. One and a half to two hours to clear passport control and customs and security is just ridiculous. And the way Hartsfield is set up, passengers going on are jammed into the same security lines as people who have reached their destination. I understand the reasoning because the end of security from immigration dumps you into the heart of the airport and since Hartsfield does not have separate security at each terminal, you have to screen people who could potentially get on a plane or connect with someone who will somewhere… But, and this is more of my sympathy for those people trying desperately to make a connection, they should not stand in the same line with me who has only to get out and into my car to go home. But there, we all stood together, being screamed at and treated like cattle. I have never been treated as inhumanely by any other country’s airport security as in my own home country. The last straw was when I FINALLY arrived at the security screening and put my backpack and flip flops in a tray, a TSA agent scolded me for wasting the tray (which has never happened before) and placed my bag and flip flops directly on the conveyor… okay, these flip flops weigh NOTHING, what do you think happened? Yep, lost in the machine somewhere…. I stood there while another agent fished in the machine to get them out and scolded me for putting them on the conveyor belt…. uhm… nope, that guy did it, I had them in a tray… he looked sheepish and handed me my shoes…. yep… I’m on a list now…

Anyway, I’m home now… one brief stop by the grocery just to get enough to survive as their is nothing in the cupboards. Tomorrow is laundry day and generally chilling…

Happy Memorial day to all my US friends!

And after my quatro grande, I moved on to see the Trova concert in the park nearby…  I´m beginning to comprehend Mexican time.  I was an hour late…. it still hadn´t started…  It cost me the premo seats that the tourists have because they don´t know the darn things start late, but I sat for half an hour of it with the locals.  Part of it included the dancers from the other night. Same outfits and everything, just a different park.  Imagine their cleaning bill for those white outfits ever few nights, if not more!  After half an hour, I´d had plenty.  The guy who introduced each song had five minute long bits of dialogue that of course meant absolutely nothing to yours truly, and even the locals I was sitting with had some painfully tired expressions waiting for the next musical number.  Beautiful music, but with no comprehension of the lyrics, I can only sit there so long.  This trend will continue…  Thus ends yesterday.

So, surprise, this morning I rented a car and drove to Celestun.  Yes, Mark, driving in another country.  The world has stopped rotating, every one grab on to something now!

Background for those who don´t know, but I literally did not drive until I started college.  I just didn´t have the interest and lived in a small burg.  I drove my first time solo on my first day of college.  And although I was a late bloomer, I´ll probably be one of those little old people MANY MANY MANY years from now who someone will have to pry the keys from  my fingers.  That independence is hard to give up.  But whenever I´ve gone abroad, like magic, I´ve reverted to zero interest in driving.  It helps that everywhere I´ve been to date has EXCELLENT public transportation so I could make my way around oblivious to the need to be in control.  And honestly, if the USA was more like that, you´d probably see me shedding that control more often.  Well, Mexico is harder to get around than the rest.  I mean, sure, there are the buses, but when you have a fixed schedule, and little miscommunication could strand you heaven only knows where, well, it´s not so attractive.  I wanted to go to Celestun today, and I wanted to go on my terms.

I actually knew I was doing this two days ago.  I just failed to mention it for various reasons for fear of jinxing myself to giving my Mother a minor coronary.   Hopefully she´s still sitting upright as she´s reading this.  Surprise!

The experience was… mixed…  Being alone, in the end, it cost me more.  I could have booked a package tour for less than the $50 car rental and the $20 to re-fill the tank.  Plus I paid for a boat trip that would have been included.  I probably paid about $40 more than the package tour, and heaven knows the bus would have cost me less than $10.  But, I got to call the shots.  They included two missed turns and a lot of cursing as I attempted to correct them.  Both times I knew immediately, but when you hit streets that aren´t on a grid and miss a turn, as any Atlanta driver knows, it´s a nightmare to fix.  The main part of Merida is on a grid, but of course, my first missed term was past the grid…  Second missed turn was in the town of Uman, which if there was any sense to its streets, it escaped me.  But I ultimately arrived safely in my wee 90´s vintage nissan in the sleepy fishing village of Celestun.

It´s sleepy because it´s in the extreme edge of nowhere.  If it were any more nowhere,  it would be in the gulf of Mexico.  There´s a station in Merida that plays “solo hits en inglese” – so they say.  Some of the songs were never hits that I had heard, hit artists maybe but some of their worst stuff, and I could never figure out what “solo” means??  Hit singles I assume, but again, top 1000?  I digress, it was still wonderful to hear music I understood, so I stayed on that station all the way to Uman where it began to break up.  I pushed it as far as I could until I had to find the single spanish station I could pick up…  and then it ran out… and there was much silence…  deafening silence… silence that forced me to sing aloud the only songs I know by heart… Christmas carols… you should all be thankful to have missed that…   It was a good 40 minutes to Celestun with no music…   If being disconnected bothers you, stay far away.  If it´s your dream, I have found your destination.

Because the place itself, tho sleepy, is gorgeous.  Lovely white sand beach, gulf waters almost but not quite as pretty as the panhandle of Florida (nothing compares).  Nothing over two stories tall on the beach, and nothing but trees beyond as far as the eye can see (it´s actually part of  a wild life reserve).   I snapped photos on that beach for at least an hour.  I watched the few lazy beach bums set up their towels and a few people wade in.  I mean, we´re talking maybe a few dozen people and most of those were probably from the tour buses I parked beside.  And tho the sound of the ocean speaks to me deeply, I hit the point I always do… no desire to lay on the beach and not really prepared to swim…  what do I do now?!

Enter the bus tour…  Now, I had been told and had read you should go there with a group so that you can get enough people to make the tour reasonably priced.  You see, if there´s 8 people, it´s around $15 a person (maybe a little more if you are lucky enough to find a boat “captain” who speaks english).  I didn´t even hope to be so lucky.  But what I had hoped would happen worked out.  They needed an 8th person to fill out a boat and approached me!  So, no work on my part, just jump on the boat with 7 other people.  Two were couples traveling together, not sure of much about them, they spoke spanish and stuck together, so relatively speaking locals, I think.  The next three were a Swiss couple and their daughter.  The daughter spoke spanish.  The father spoke some english, so I got any information about what I was seeing third hand.  The parents have been here 5 weeks, the daughter 6 mos…  Wow, these European people get some real vacations… geez…

The boat was typically Mexican.  I have some photos of ones like it.  The boat is an old fiberglass boat worn a little tent canopy deal going (usually advertising some beer) and 4 benches, each with, I kid you not, mismatching plastic resin chairs with the legs sawed off and the remainder lashed by whatever means necessary to the bench.  The gas tank was a large plastic jug of which I had the pleasure to sit near.  When the captain, if the owner of such a vehicle can be called such, had a big plastic bag attached to the hose that ran from the tank to the motor (the only really capable looking part of the boat), and he would squeeze that bag to start the gas flowing.  I might add that he would periodically bail out water.  I could never see the source of it, but when he drove, he went like a bat out of hell, so we were constantly hit with water, so that may be it.

In the course of over 3 hours, we saw Flamingos (Celestun´s claim to fame is that the Flamingos stay there, hence the nature reserve, this time of year) and a pile of other birds.  We also saw a petrified forest and a mangrove swamp.  Some of the group went swimming there, but the Swiss family and I abstained.  The water was clear and beautiful blue but heaven only knows what all was living in amongst those roots, we saw tons of tropical fish and little crabs and even a nest in the trees with an eagle.

After all that were heading back.  The captain gave us the option of taking the boat back to the beach where we came from, or we could get off and walk back from this bridge he stopped at for a few minutes.  As I said, this was communicated to me third hand.  I ended up going with the Swiss family and walking back, but if I had understood that the walk back was in fact the same road I drove in on, I would have stayed in the boat!  Not much to see that way.

After about the promised seven minutes stroll, we got back to the main square.  I said adios to the Swiss family and went back for a couple of photos and a souvenir from the lone little artisan tent on the beach before going back to the car to figure out what was on next.

I had high hopes of also taking a drive through what Lonely Planet calls the Ruined Hacienda Route, which is full of these old decaying Hacienda´s from when sisal was king in the Yucatan.  Said to be very picturesque.  It was, however, after 4pm.  I could return the car to the garage anytime tonight and go by the office in the morning to square everything up, however, sun sets about 7:30 and I had zero interest in being out in the wilds of Mexico after dark as confusing as the roads are and as many of those blamed speed bumps as they put up willy nilly throughout the countryside.  See Mom, I have some common sense after all.

I got back here about 5pm.  I took advantage of having the car long enough to meander through one of the main cemetario since I wanted some photos of those grave/shrine things they have going here.  I really must read up more on this at some point as they literally are little shrines.  Some are small, some are big enough for a few people to go inside.  I thought they were mausoleums from the road, but it looked like most were shrines built atop graves.   I´ll share the snapshots at some point for those who care to see.  I didn´t take a lot as I wasn´t sure what the reaction would be to a gringo wandering through the cemetery taking pictures.

So, that´s pretty much today.  I dropped the car off well before closing and am square there.  Whew!   The car rental place was recommended, but it still had me a trifle worried no matter how nice they seemed at the outset.  Heavens, this morning, he showed me every nut and bolt on the car… you have thought he was giving his only daughter away or something.  It´s a car!  I´m used to America where they tell you where in the parking lot to find it and never bother to show you anything.  I mean, literally, “This is the key, it opens the doors, the gas tank, and you crank the car with it.”

Anyway, that experience done, I went shoe hunting one last time.  My sandals are totally past it and it´s so blasted hot it´s all I want to wear.  The beach trip was the end of them.  I found this shoe shop on the corner.  Again, I discover the Mexicans have yet to discover the joys of a good sports sandal… straps on toes, arch, and around the back… I mean, they have nice leather ones exactly like that but absolutely nothing completely casual…  So, I managed to find what they called sandals but just amount to fairly nice flip flops that will do.  And they fit… wow…  And I know this will make one person in particular out there laugh, biggest ones they had….  $8…

Tomorrow is up in the air.  I´ve been to a few tour companies, and they all started listing off  Chichen Itza (been there), Uxmal (ditto), and Celestun (would you like some sand?).  I finally found one that has a Hacienda tour, but of a working Hacienda that´s kind of like a living history exhibit.  uhmm….  not so sure…  On the good side, they also include a stop at one of the cenotes…  hrm…  Can´t decide but they are open until 11pm so I have a little time to think on it.

The hours of places here is just….  bonkers…  I think the heat and all has just totally changed people´s time clocks here.  If I eat dinner at 6pm, I am inevitably one of a few people there.  In the early afternoon, half of the town shuts down.  I mean, literally, I had to wait to check in with the car rental place because they close from like 1pm to 6pm but then stay open late.  Most everything is like this, close a few hours then open late.  So, at least it gives me time…

Tomorrow is the last full day here.  Sunday will be migrating to the airport and the flight back to the US.  I´ll miss being out here, seeing new things, but I´ll also be kind of glad to move on from Merida.  A beautiful place no doubt, but if I had longer in Mexico, there´s no doubt I´d have shoved on to a different spot even if I had to come back to fly out.   That´s how a lot of the people on the hostel circuit are doing it, of course, stopping over here on way elsewhere for a few days.

Okay, time to run!

After yesterday´s post, I stepped out into the cooler afternoon when the sun was far enough through its arc through the sky that there were shadows starting to stretch across the streets and the town had clearly awoken.  And I encountered the first of my friendly natives.  Had a good 15 minute conversation with this guy who walked up and began talking.  Well now, my USA radar went off immediately.  Kind strangers???!??  Seriously?  After chit-chatting awhile, I couldn´t really decide.  He pointed out some of the things to do, yadda yadda.  More on that in a bit.

Next stop was an ever so brief stop in the cathedral.  I couldn´t play tourist there as there was a mass in session, but I did stay for part of the mass in the oldest Cathedral in the Americas.   It´s a rather grim place.  With the afternoon sun leaking through, you could see that it has some beauty, but it is very much an old, stark, and imposing edifice, clearly aimed at both awing the local populace as well as providing some fortification.  Their were poor people sitting by the doors begging (so far the only beggars I´ve seen) and photos of a visit by Pope John Paul near the entrance.  It´s closed during siesta time so I will go back for a tourist visit later.

I took a short tour of the government palaces, about the only thing open for touristy things on Sunday.  I´m not sure if it was because of it being Sunday or because of the elections that are going on.  There are campaign posters all over and I saw campaign workers outside of what I guess was a polling place.  The government palace is full of giant murals telling the story of the Maya and the Spanish.  It´s a grim story to be sure.  The artist, and I forget his name, worked on them for 25 years and they are quite beautiful.

Afterwards, I managed to order chicken nachos in a little mall type location off of Plaza Grande.  A challenge as I basically had to stare at the menu and wish for pictures.  I found the word nachos… ahhh…  but then all the options were still a mystery.  I glanced in my spanish guide in the eating section and managed to suss out the pollo option was chicken.  Again, I´m on compact language travel guide #2 and neither have my wished for index with the foreign word and my language rather than vice versa.  They all assume that you are trying to translate what you want to say rather than what you are hearing or reading.  Pretty one way little guides.

Afterward, I strolled through the main square.  There was music.  These guys were playing drums and putting on quite a nice show.  Appeared to be impromptu as they kept passing around the hat for pesos.  I didn´t have a wonderful view as I got there after it had been going on a few minutes, but it wasn´t awful either.  I´ve found a place in the world where I´m above average height.  It´s not that there are no taller Maya here, but they are few and far between.  Most of the taller people I see are also tourists.  Yesterday I managed to smack my head on a low door way if that gives you any idea, but I digress.

Stomach and desire to be out satisfied, I decided to turn in with that vague hope that I would get an early start in the morning.  Yeh, right, what was I thinking.  Oh, and for any wondering whether I slept in a hammock or not, the answer is no.  I just couldn´t get comfortable, probably more mental than physical.  Oh well, I´ll try again!

Today, as I said, was not the early start I had hoped for.  It´s not that I couldn´t have gotten up.  I certainly had the odd wake up and “oh look there´s daylight” moments, I just ignored them all in favor of more sleep.

Once up, I took a long meander north of the hostel.  I had plans to check out a market that I´d been told was there as well as the Antropology Museum.  Struck out on both accounts.  If there was a market, it was well hidden.  And the museum is closed Mondays… which is a familiar theme including another museum, and the zoo.

Defeated on all fronts, I found a pharmacia and bought some gel insoles for my boots.  I´ve been off my feet for a bit thanks to the knee issues.  I think my feet would have kissed me for these gel insoles if I let them do that sort of thing.  The only insulting part was that the package said they were for people over 40…  harumph!  I´m going to assume that was 40 lbs and not years…  That was literally the only english on the whole package…

I went back by the hostel a bit and cooled off with a bottle of water and looked in the guide for something else I could do.  According to the guide, the City Museum was open on Mondays…  So, I set off for the center of town and two things, the City Museum, and something frozen…

I got about two blocks before my next friendly local.  This one had the same story about being a university student.  Not sure if it´s true, but it´s getting a kind of redundant tune to it.  He had similar interest in my background, time in Merida, etc.  And a familar recommendation for this little Maya Market near my hostel that supposedly sells objects made by Maya orphans…  I give credit because I still can´t decide how much is salesmanship and how much is genuine friendliness but this one even had a business card!

As I managed to pry my second friend loose, I ran into a couple of women, who I think were Aussies, who laughed and asked if he was genuinely helpful or if I´d been accosted.  I told them I´m afraid it was the latter and not the first time.  They said best get used to it as we don´t blend in well here.  This is true.  I had realized that already earlier as a I sought in vain to find a hat that would not leave my head a sweltering mess.  My baseball cap is dark colored.  I might as well wear a frying pan.  My other hat is very gringo, a big floppy hat one might wear on a safari.  It does a great job, but it also hits me as a calling card for not from around here.  But as I was trying on various hats that I never would have worn back home, I realized they weren´t going to do anything for me.  I´m obviously not from around these parts!  Getting my safari hat was the second reason I had gone back to the hostel.

Anyway, I got on to the city museum….  equally closed… no hours posted… oh well… maybe later…  So, I found a frozen yogurt and a bottle of water and sat down in this small mall for a minute… and friendly local #3 appeared… wow… this one had a business card as well.  He also recommended the shop for the Maya orphans (only I had to help him with what the word was for people with no parents…).  But having heard the story once before, it was easy to help him along with it.  Of course, I´m helping in his english training as well, which they´ve all been open about.  Unfortunately, not helping me so much with my spanish.  Luckily there´s a little similarity with French, so I figured out the numbers close enough last night (not understanding the currency requested of me was rather demeaning and demanded some bed time reading).  I´m working on replacing gratzi with gracias.    We´ll see.  I don´t think I pick up languages that fast.

After friend #3, I made my way over to the local contemporary art museum.  By local, I don´t just mean that it´s here, it focuses on works by contemporary artists from the Yucatan.  Some was quite beautiful.  There were a couple of photography exhibits that were just beautiful.   There was also some contemporary art that was completely open to my esteemed interpretation considering not even the titles were meaningful to me.  Unlike the art in the Governor´s palace, nothing there had English translations.  Oh sure, I could pick out a word here and there, but not enough to matter.

Leaving the lovely air conditioned art, I ran into local friend # 3 again.  Yes, again…  And standing out like a sore thumb nowhere near the Mayan orphans handicrafts, he offered to walk me there..  uhm… I´m fine thanks!  Exit stage right!

I think next is probably the bus tour I´ve seen running through the streets of Merida.  If the guide is to be believed, it´s not only open today, there´s a tour leaving in less than an hour.  Still want to get inside the Cathedral today as well if possible.

Tomorrow I think will be a day out.  I´d like to meet some local friends at Chichen Itza.

Forgotten Tidbit

And I really should kick myself for this one, but I literally had less that two minutes of time left on here (and the shop was closing) last night, so I was rushed. On the last full day of the backpacker tour, one of our stops was to Loch Ness. Actually, Fort Augustus is on the Caledonian canal and has a view of the Loch as well. But near sunset, we actually stopped at the infamous home of Nessie. If nothing else, I think I got some rocking pictures of the sun setting on the Loch. No Nessie sightings despite Rab’s Nessie chant and dance that he had us do. I look forward to some of the pictures that were taken of that. Had to be a sight. I had never really read up on Nessie, but apparently there’s actually over a thousand years of history of sightings and sightings at other Lochs. Rab left it up to us what we wanted to believe about the Beastie, but he said that he’d been on boats that had sonar sightings of something down there.

Back In Edinburgh Again, And I feel Fine…

Sort of anyway… The night I got back I was fighting off a cold and taking my Airborne. We had several sick people on the bus by the time it was done. And I was right there at the end. Cough, sinus drip… yum… First night in, I slept, and I slept LATE…

My first day back, I decided to get out of town again. I had some intentions to take a train up to St. Andrews, but I started looking at the schedules. It’s a train and a bus. The train alone takes two hours. You can just do a bus, but that’s three hours… I didn’t want to kill that much of a day on a return trip. St. Andrews will have to wait. So I still wanted to see the coast, and I took a train to North Berwick, a little seaside village half an hour from Edinburgh via train. Even in the off-season, quite picturesque. I can imagine that during the summer, it’s really something. Like most places around here, it has history going back thousands of years. It used to be, ironically, a stop over for pilgrams on their way to St. Andrews. Go figure!

I got some beach shots, wiggled my fingers in the North Sea (hope you didn’t think I’d take my shoes off and wade!). And I wandered around town. Had some chips for lunch and sat and watched the waves break. Real sleepy place in winter, but I suspect in summer a different manner. Almost the whole stretch of houses that faced the water had rental signs in them for holiday-seekers and there are multiple golf courses around it.

My guidebook indicated that there was a castle east of town, Tantallon, built in 1358 by the Douglas Family. Book said it was three miles… hmmm.. no signs… I could do that in an hour easily… but not without some idea where I was going. Found a bus stop and the castle was one of the stops – problem solved! Sort of…

The bus was literally waiting there, so I hoped on. The castle wasn’t far off, but civilization died off rapidly and we were shortly in idle farm fields. Once there, I checked out the castle for a couple of hours. I literally climbed up every wall that was allowed and wandered around looking at the ocean views (the castle is built with two sides facing out and the other two were left open because they are sheer cliff drops). Not the most remarkable place I’d visited, but I was literally the only person there, so it was nice not being buffetted about by crowds for a change, hence the two hours.

Finally done, I got my prerequisite fridge magnet and asked the curator when the next bus was… just missed it… Then he looked at his watch again and said maybe not, if I hurried. I had to have missed it. I had a view of the road the whole time I was walking down from the little visitor office and never saw one. I waited by the side of the road for another 20 minutes before deciding I’d rather just walk. It was 3pm. The sun is down at 4:30pm and I wanted to be back in town before that happened. And sure, enough hoofing it along the little paved path on the roadside, I was back into town just as dusk hit. I did a little shopping and hopped the train back here to Edinburgh.

A little TV and then bed… yawwwnnn!!

Last Day Wandering

Last day can only be described as a ramble. I had thought about going down to Leith Docks to the shopping centre there or to see the Queen’s old yacht, Britania. In the end, I just wandered around and did some shopping and took some photos in between the dark clouds (partially sunny today with ocassional showers). I found the local Forbidden Planet, and got some Doctor Who stuff (yes, it was time to let my geek flag fly – oh wait, I did that when I wore my Batman t-shirt on day 4 of the backpacker trip). Also checked out the graveyard at St Cuthbert’s, an 18th century church. This place has a tower left from the days when they had to guard against body snatchers (taken and sold to the local medical school). This is also where I managed to take a spill on some mossy damp steps. Glad to say that it was just my dignity and not my body or camera that was injured in the fall.

Dropped back by the room and dumped the purchases I’d made, including some CD’s for some Brit music that I won’t really get to listen to until I’m home (wahhhh!!). One was a CD for a Scots band, The Fratellis, that was playing as one of the acts at Hogmanay and I had intentions of hearing them, but of course that didn’t pan out The other, The Automatic, I heard a song of theirs on the radio several times while here. Listened to enough of both albums to be sure I’d like them.

After that a ramble up to Edinburgh castle for some dusk photos, and I think I got in some good ones. Very dramatic sky this evening, clouds and the last remnants of the sun before setting. Plus the castle lights were already on. The only thing left on my plate is dinner, no pun intended. After that, packing and early to bed. I’d thought about a museum nearby that has late hours on Tuesdays, but I think it’s better to end today on this note before I wear myself out. I’m sure I’ll be back again someday. And tomorrow will be a long day. Flight to Newark and then to Atlanta… wheee!

After dinner (chicken sandwich at a place called “Wannaburger” or something like that – probably a chain by the look of it), I went back to the hotel, relaxed a little and added a layer. I was at the nearest gate around 7pm… not even open?? Huh? Followed the crowds to another. This one open but letting no one in, sketchy details. Crowd continued to one of the main gates on Princes Street. Princes Street, for explanation sake, is a wide open huge boulevard. For most of the length of it, there are shops on only one side. The other side opens into the gardens and the view of the Castle and Old Town. I think this explains the incredible winds whipping down that street Had felt nothing like it on the streets in Old Town.

When I say the wind was whipping, I mean people were leaning into it, and it held them up. Metal fences flew over and I saw a group of port-a-potties fly across the street inside the barricades. According to the BBC news this morning, they recorded 70+ mph winds in the heart of the city. At any rate, quite impressive and amazing to see. People were standing all over the streets, playing in the wind and seeking shelter. For maybe a minute, I joined some under a covered bus stop until I noticed that it was moving a bit in the wind… probably nothing, but still…

I moved a bit to a side street where another entrance was. Since it was a narrower street, the winds were diminished. And on this one, the guards had better details. The event was not canceled yet. They were waiting to see if the winds would die down. If so, they’d let everyone in. So, everyone waited. I stood under the eves of the nearest building near the cops. This is where I heard the whole deal was cancelled for the weather.

Trudged back up to the North Bridge and back across to Old Town. Stopping briefly, I snagged some crisps, a coke, and a bag of jelly babies (candy for the unitiated). I headed back to my room. By now, I was thoroughly and truly soaked. In no mood to even try to find somewhere to ring it in. So, I watched a movie and ate until it was time for the equivalent to Dick Clark’s New Years Rocking Eve to come on.

That was actually amusing. Both the ones I found were Scottish broadcast. One was kind of a dinner party setting?? And has apparently been on for around 50 years… The one I chose was broadcast live from the great hall at Edinburgh Castle, literally over the hill from where I was. So, I chose that one. Lots of musical acts, mostly traditional, but some modern pop that I hadn’t heard (because it was pop HERE).

I’ll try to spare you anymore of my living life on the edge here.

The Aftermath

Woke up reasonably early today and managed to get out early, much to my chagrin since nothing was open before noon. So, I meandered up the main drag after breakfast watching them tear down the barricades and all from last light. Mostly a gray day and quite cool when the wind hits, but there werea few rays of sunshien and even a rainbow at one point!

The Rainbow is getting ahead of things chronilogically. When things finally opened, I took a brief run through Debenhams, a department store, to see what they had on sale. I got a hat there two years ago. Even with the sales prices today of the things I looked at, the exchange rate meant I was being robbed blind.

From there to the National Gallery – free admission! This is the way things should be. In the UK, most galleries and museums are FREE. They do charge for limited exhibitions and the like, but the main galleries are free. The Scots should be proud of their gallery. I sat down in one room as my feet are dragging, and in front of me was a Van Gogh, a Degas, and a Monet… wow… That really is just a fraction of the familiar names and I’m sure if I was any real art afficianado, I’d have recognized far more. This is actually day two of art fest as yesterday I saw a Canalleto exhibit at the Queen’s Gallery at Holyrood (that was not free, but it was WARM).

The National Gallery adjoins the Royal Scottish Academy Building, which was hosting their annual exhibition of the water colors of Joseph Mallord William Turner. I discovered his oil paintings at the National Gallery in London. If I like something enough to hold on to the artist’s name, that says something. So, had to take that in. Excellent work. I was amazed by the depth in some of his water colors. Just amazing images and because of the potential damage to displaying them, they are shown just once a year, January. How fortuitous!

Now, I’m just completely dragging. Over two hours walking the galleries, plus time on my feet before and after (one of those brief moments of sunlight and the rainbow where I was out with my camera for a bit).

Next on the olde agenda is finding some grub, and going back to the hotel to pack. I have to get up actually early in the morning, not faux early like this morning. I have to be at the Haggis office a few blocks from where I’m staying by 8am. If I don’t get some rest, no way I’m hoisting that pack up that hill! Then it’s on to six days and five nights meandering through the North of Scotland. Not sure if/when there will be more updates other than definitely when I’m back in Edinburgh (three more nights here before heading back to the states).

Hope everyone’s New Year is off to a great start!

For those not in the know, I’m out in San Jose for a business meeting on Monday that I’m thankfully able to make a long weekend out of. As these chances don’t exactly grow on trees, I’m trying to make the most of it.

Unfortunately, the road here was bumpy. We spent two long nights preparing, and as a result, I’m beat. Thursday night, we left the office around 11pm and I still had to go home and pack. Oy!

This led to excitement Friday morning. You know, the variety where you wake up and sun is streaming through the windows when it shouldn’t be. My flight for San Jose was taking off at 9:48am. I woke up at 7:30am… Ohhhh boy!

So, I was off from the gates. No breakfast, just a quick jump in the shower, toss on clothes and run for the door. Thank goodness that school traffic hasn’t hit yet. I think that’s the only thing that saved me. I arrived at my gate ten minutes before take off. In my worse dreams, I never thought I’d cut it that close. But I made my flight!

I tried to no avail to sleep on the plane. I hit one good nap for maybe 5 or 10 minutes and then they came by with a snack. Even though I could stand to miss a meal, not having had breakfast, I really didn’t see myself sleeping through the closest thing to that morning meal. So, I spent the flight catching up on e-mail and listening to some music.

Landed here at almost noon. Got my bag (first off the belt, so my luggage had to be among the last loaded). I seriously wondered if it would make the plane. I got the rental car and headed on my way.

First stop, the Winchester Mystery House, which was a short drive from the airport and very close to my hotel. I’ve seen this place on TV before. Apparently, Sarah Winchester, heiress to the Winchester Repeating Rifle fortune, was convinced that the spirits of the people killed by that gun had caused the untimely deaths of her husband and child. It’s said that the spirits were responsible for the helter skelter design of her last home. Variously the spirits either told her how to build it or she was told to build it as she did to keep them confused and unable to find her. Whichever it was, the house, tho beautiful, lives up to what I’d heard about it. Doors open to second story drops. Other doors open to nowhere. Windows open to walls and cupboards turn out to either go nowhere or everywhere. Spent around four hours there taking both the grand house tour and the behind the scenes tour. There were parts of the house that reminded me of the Biltmore just because of the vintage, but otherwise they are on opposite ends of the spectrum in planning. The house that thought of everything versus the house on a psychotic break.

After that, got checked in and unwound for a few minutes before hitting the road for San Francisco. I don’t think I really had time, but I wanted to see the Golden Gate bridge. In retrospect, I’d have been just as well taking in some of San Jose instead. It was a long drive for about an hour looking at the Bay and freezing. Yes, I left home in shorts. In San Jose, no problem. But at sunset on the bay, it was 64 degrees and a strong wind was blowing. My hands literally shook when I tried to take a picture. I had to use the tripod for a shot I could have normally hand held. It was fun to see the mixture of people, though. And plenty like me that obviously had no idea what type of weather to prepare for. I did walk about halfway across on the pedestrian part of the bridge. Between the wind and cold, that was pushing it as far as I could.
All in all, I didn’t see enough of San Francisco to really form an impression. There’s definitely some beauty, but I can’t say I left my heart there this time. But I think I narrowly avoided leaving my arms and lower extremities due to frostbite.

On the way back, I ended up going a slightly different route. I saw more of downtown that way, but it got me so turned around that when I saw I-280, I was fooled by the signs that said “San Jose” for Highway 101. They were, in fact, both right, but my hotel is on 280… I wasn’t able to confirm that I had goofed until I stopped to eat (yes, meal #2 for the day). By then, I was pretty far along on the other route. And when I looked at the map, I realized it wasn’t that bad a goof. Added a little to the trip, but not much.

And that has to be that for the night. Back in the hotel. About to offload the photos from my cards so that I start tomorrow with a clean slate.

More to come!