tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87305636857337518622024-03-14T01:39:31.368-04:00footloosemaryFootloosemary:
serial volunteering around the worldfootloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.comBlogger143125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-653002281454541682015-09-25T04:10:00.001-04:002016-05-08T18:23:29.368-04:00ESPINAL<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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9/8/15</div>
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That morning around 5:30 a.m. I was startled awake by a loud noise. It turned into several people chanting loudly as they wove their way around the aisles and floors of the huge hostel. This was the wake up call by the hospitaleros. The couple in the bunks opposite mine were up and gone within ten minutes, even though it was still pitch black outside. I stayed in bed awhile longer.</div>
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A big mistake was pre-purchasing breakfast the day before, although if I hadn't I wouldn't have got a ticket. I was scheduled for breakfast at the opening time of 7 a.m. I took my time washing up and re packing my pack. Another hiker walked by around 6:30 and I joked, "Getting an early start?" since sunrise here isn't till around 8. "No, I'm going to breakfast." That should have given me my first clue that you don't just go, sit down and get served.<br />
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I headed out the door around 6:45, thinking I had plenty of time to come back after breakfast to brush my teeth and go to the bathroom before they closed at 8. Two hospitaleros stopped me at the door as I was on my way to the restaurant where breakfast was being served. "Take your pack," they said,"because we lock the door at 8 and you can't get back in." My second clue. I dutifully went upstairs to get my pack then walked over to the restaurant and saw a long line of people waiting to get in. A few inquiries told me they all had tickets for 7a.m. Should I stay or should I go? I had already paid my 3 Euros for breakfast, so being cheap and not knowing what was ahead, I opted to stay in line.</div>
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About 45 minutes later, I finally claimed my toast, jam and coffee. I had to clear the dishes off a table so I could sit down. I was joined by two other peregrinas and we had a pleasant chat over breakfast</div>
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I headed out with the two girls to make sure I was going in the right direction for my first steps on the Camino. A sign showed I had 790 km (over 490 miles) to go. The girls sped off at a quick pace after a "Buen Camino!" The Trail was wide and many others walked past me. </div>
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They say you find others who walk the same pace as you, but so far they hadn't materialized. </div>
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After about twenty minutes I saw a few restaurants with pleasant outdoor tables.</div>
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That would have been a better place for breakfast, but I'm not sure how early they opened. I'm told that 9 a.m. Is the typical time. Rather late for me. </div>
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After a pleasant walk through woods and hilly farmland, I stopped around midday at Espinal, a village of a few blocks with green hills all around. I had a lunch of salad, bread and coke light <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">then walked around the village a bit. I'm staying in a 16 bed dormitory at the Hostal Haizea. That sounds like a lot but nobody checked in till several hours later, so I could do my laundry and enjoy reading on the sunny deck. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">That night we all gathered for a pilgrims' meal in the downstairs restaurant: grilled ribs, spaghetti, meatballs, fries, bread, wine. It was pleasant getting to know the other pilgrims from the UK, Australia, Zambia, Italy, Serbia, and Russia.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Only four miles by the Camino guide, but you do a lot of walking besides that. My Fitbit says six miles today and my poor foot says "enough!"</span></div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-69039830174885561532015-09-10T13:48:00.001-04:002015-09-12T14:14:40.664-04:00RONCESVALLES<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>I feel like I cheated by taking the bus the first leg of the walk but I was not alone. Along with my Achilles tendinitis, there were walkers with hip, knee, shoulder and leg problems. We're all determined to go on, though. We just couldn't face the initial 15 miles with 4,500 feet elevation gain. One person on the bus was an Italian cyclist who thought he could rent a bike in St Jean but there were none to be had. A lucky escape, I say. He has to go all the way to Pamplona to get a bike.<div><br></div><div>It took about 45 minutes by bus to get to Roncesvalles, which consists mainly of an old Medieval hospital made into a 400 bed hostel, a couple of hotels, and restaurants. It sounds like a lot, but they were full and turning people away by late afternoon. So the people who were late getting over the Pyrenees had to struggle on to the next hostel up the road. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_FsELckm97lHmL7Bf4_YylkLpkqxPOSFjgBZmpZnwvEr8-7L8ezsnbPXFTub4buYE9pmcc8nx8pVtNpR05GvgaJ6x629bDWckzuQSPK4Q_wv4OSkDxDoypcLHMP8QZy8ZbOyiUnNgeK60/s640/blogger-image--1089200743.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_FsELckm97lHmL7Bf4_YylkLpkqxPOSFjgBZmpZnwvEr8-7L8ezsnbPXFTub4buYE9pmcc8nx8pVtNpR05GvgaJ6x629bDWckzuQSPK4Q_wv4OSkDxDoypcLHMP8QZy8ZbOyiUnNgeK60/s640/blogger-image--1089200743.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I had time to take a tour of the Church of St Mary (1219) and the crypt where thousands of Charlemagne's rear guard are supposedly buried in a mass grave.</div><div>In the winter the snow can get to the upper windows. Some of the pathways are beautiful old stone mosaic.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5mPA2lMJ0SVPNP7CuGqko-30SwyJfLeSdowoZCVCP8mmNWXCGS6Hk2UYToqU5nSH_302b-F2RL428NaW8pE7CwXGqmvKcQOm_5FzSlM-W4tBE8xFG6r3B1IX0efr3Cwcg2Bo2AX4F7Fr/s640/blogger-image-784083936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5mPA2lMJ0SVPNP7CuGqko-30SwyJfLeSdowoZCVCP8mmNWXCGS6Hk2UYToqU5nSH_302b-F2RL428NaW8pE7CwXGqmvKcQOm_5FzSlM-W4tBE8xFG6r3B1IX0efr3Cwcg2Bo2AX4F7Fr/s640/blogger-image-784083936.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekOcj9WCbUgYM__8p3oPEwwGg-LlaGZl3t2soTPeeo3bb-9s8zMIItpMoS1ADjYASXxPS7pdczzjDX2drNlPmV7HRa-87cEzka89gkV7ikaeChxWGjjjOcyusLOzAad6zjn1gb07QfaOS/s640/blogger-image--534756259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekOcj9WCbUgYM__8p3oPEwwGg-LlaGZl3t2soTPeeo3bb-9s8zMIItpMoS1ADjYASXxPS7pdczzjDX2drNlPmV7HRa-87cEzka89gkV7ikaeChxWGjjjOcyusLOzAad6zjn1gb07QfaOS/s640/blogger-image--534756259.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>We were all served a Pilgrim's meal for 8 Euros. They are a custom along the way and are supposed to sustain us through the next day of walking. This one consisted of salad, fish in white sauce and fries, wine, bread, and ice cream. My three tablemates were a German family that spoke no English or Spanish, but we managed to communicate in the universal language of hands and grunts. The daughter is vegetarian and ended up with a plate of French fries for dinner. We are supposed to pass a market in the next town, so hopefully she can get some healthy snacks.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_Zy_QqqltO98Bbp_yo2gi5yZMZGP0fjDLwiLzty906da9UwbPVhflOKaLICFQEUyWFBYo_iV4kucIDe9FH6-iYtWZzs7bXxTiauZUAfP9aNO1o07HM8yoUxRJYAGQDcOUUKrpML3v3k6/s640/blogger-image--776619533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_Zy_QqqltO98Bbp_yo2gi5yZMZGP0fjDLwiLzty906da9UwbPVhflOKaLICFQEUyWFBYo_iV4kucIDe9FH6-iYtWZzs7bXxTiauZUAfP9aNO1o07HM8yoUxRJYAGQDcOUUKrpML3v3k6/s640/blogger-image--776619533.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>After dinner we attended a pilgrim's mass in the church and we're all blessed. There were five older priests. One of them looked like he was a hundred years old. This must be a retirement posting for Catholic priests.</div>footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-38112222469910253772015-09-09T11:47:00.001-04:002015-09-10T13:36:36.275-04:00ST JEAN PIED DE PORTThe bus ride from Pamplona over the Pyrenees mountains to the French town of St Jean Pied de Port was through beautiful green rolling hills, dotted with sheep and cows. I shared the bus with many other Pilgrims of many nationalities. I'm sure it crossed all of our minds that we would be walking a similar path back to Pamplona, including steep ascents and descents and hairpin turns.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf8KsfEj-ckod74Oi-rNf3k3VRAaAIyn_lODpqfPHBJj1lYLaj17VdxpBGWA21PqTqrato1hyphenhyphenIcPDFfCzs1E7iCpyoQ8lF4-mQE06XedtvBxvXFGBlYZ07L3KdYqsK50wU5dZ8xJ2yWGqb/s640/blogger-image-368544317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf8KsfEj-ckod74Oi-rNf3k3VRAaAIyn_lODpqfPHBJj1lYLaj17VdxpBGWA21PqTqrato1hyphenhyphenIcPDFfCzs1E7iCpyoQ8lF4-mQE06XedtvBxvXFGBlYZ07L3KdYqsK50wU5dZ8xJ2yWGqb/s640/blogger-image-368544317.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>St Jean Pied de Port is a lovely Medieval town with a fortress and old stone buildings lining cobblestone streets. I met June from Korea as she was trying to manage a 50 pound backpack, a roller bag, and a large shoulder bag. One of the jokes of the Camino I have heard is that if you need something, ask a Korean--they carry everything! Poor June was a good example. I walked with her up to the Pilgrim's Office, which was closed for Siesta, so we opted to go to a French restaurant for lunch so we could set our luggage down. </div><div><br></div><div>The meal was wonderful--roasted chicken, baked potato, vegetable salad, and an apple tart for 12 Euros.</div><div><br></div><div>Over lunch, June shared with me that she had worked three jobs to save for this big trip. It was bigger than I had imagined. She had flown to Vladivostok and spent a month crossing Russia to St Petersburg before flying to Madrid and right away getting on a night train to Pamplona and then the bus to St Jean. Needless to say she was exhausted. Her last shower had been in Moscow. I asked what she thought of the steep downhill on the bus and she had slept through it. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbHmQi0MjAzZkK6x764RVOdkMVSmV7By_r_D9SUI5VQzjChLJCHalW-nt_PDOE0aAqUkrOynZCJn3-Vx_X_h-I5IHfXysDimbio6ZpGePKDM44Zzq727KmS6FT09fGtNv4AP_9yseoYU1V/s640/blogger-image--225158357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbHmQi0MjAzZkK6x764RVOdkMVSmV7By_r_D9SUI5VQzjChLJCHalW-nt_PDOE0aAqUkrOynZCJn3-Vx_X_h-I5IHfXysDimbio6ZpGePKDM44Zzq727KmS6FT09fGtNv4AP_9yseoYU1V/s640/blogger-image--225158357.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>June's further plans after walking the 500 mile Camino are to go visit her parents, who are missionaries in Tanzania, tour around Africa, then go see "the big waterfall" in South America. Quite an ambitious itinerary. I did talk her into shipping her roller bag to Santiago and sending her backpack ahead to her first overnight stop after the steep ascent the next day. When I saw her the next morning, she had arranged all this through her hostel, but somebody stole the envelope with 70 Euros she was told to leave on top of her luggage for the transport company.</div><div><br></div><div>We returned to the Pilgrim's Office after lunch. After the volunteer carefully explained to me the two options of hiking routes over the mountains, I knew for sure I would be taking the bus this first leg. My poor foot can't handle the 3000 foot elevation gain. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieN9FupUgOsa8P_KFOcoVMfqvSt47W5d-sf3gpzlG2xP9KuRj8wVK6AK0StgF2L3jCIlDAMb5gYEK3UKdU3GVnLg4smHo2iIJTh3Sh30YTu9PJxtz0gqlgrztXf4Laf4k7yDzj6cGkyact/s640/blogger-image--1609148395.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieN9FupUgOsa8P_KFOcoVMfqvSt47W5d-sf3gpzlG2xP9KuRj8wVK6AK0StgF2L3jCIlDAMb5gYEK3UKdU3GVnLg4smHo2iIJTh3Sh30YTu9PJxtz0gqlgrztXf4Laf4k7yDzj6cGkyact/s640/blogger-image--1609148395.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I stayed at Gite Izaxulo and shared a room with a Canadian and a British guy. All of us were too tired to do much more than exchange Names.</div>footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-32107431594269169362015-09-09T10:38:00.001-04:002015-09-09T10:38:50.448-04:00Pamplona<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSWPBJz_4EZpdk4u3d-foBazh26US6-JCMdSEJWE2kes955LCw_foMAF-L1QEpY_r8Cc6R5bDmJV1WwswgrkYBCqtuXVP4fos6FgMRfGOdMRgQSSsaGRAzXawI6UnBGl_60DuORCrzwk5/s640/blogger-image-359279016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqSWPBJz_4EZpdk4u3d-foBazh26US6-JCMdSEJWE2kes955LCw_foMAF-L1QEpY_r8Cc6R5bDmJV1WwswgrkYBCqtuXVP4fos6FgMRfGOdMRgQSSsaGRAzXawI6UnBGl_60DuORCrzwk5/s640/blogger-image-359279016.jpg"></a></div>I arrived successfully by train, despite a threatened railway strike. I had planned on walking to town but I'm glad I broke down and took a taxi. The seven Euros was worth not having to deal with busy traffic and a convoluted route. The driver couldn't take me all the way since some streets were blocked off for a fiesta. There were stands all over selling arts and crafts, homemade food, and religious articles. <div><br></div><div>I'm staying at the Hotel Maisonnave, smack in the middle of Old Town and one of the cheapest things I could find on the Internet. Of course, when you get here there are lots of things cheaper that save money by not advertising. But it's a good feeling to know you have a bed somewhere with your name on it. </div><div><br></div><div>I checked in then went looking for the bus station to get my ticket for tomorrow. It is another part of town. I asked directions of a pleasant looking older man. He said he was on his way to the station and would walk with me. Mikel is a Pamplona native and only speaks Spanish and Basque. He is also deaf in one ear but we were able to communicate alright. He is also divorced and has one son, aged 36, just like me.</div><div><br></div><div>We got to the bus station, which was underground and doesn't look like a bus station, so I was glad he was with me. He bought his ticket to go visit an artist friend but the woman said there were no buses to St Jean the next day since it was Sunday. It didn't show on the wall schedule either. My new friend saw a bus ready to leave for St Jean and asked the driver. He was busy taking tickets but after a few minutes he took me into the terminal and showed me how to buy a ticket at a machine for his specific company. So I now had a ticket for the next day.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhy9wTBPMi2Sw_T9bUTkh7R65IwzsoUHMNDuwnUT4qaiohMOh1wq9qhGIF9IWDF14m0a5ITFC1HLe1roNJOAOpi7sBlbXKbX_akXxgkx8g1VpwL7hbaRa3Po_akHU2l9Na9c34bkvhZbg/s640/blogger-image-1975933557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhy9wTBPMi2Sw_T9bUTkh7R65IwzsoUHMNDuwnUT4qaiohMOh1wq9qhGIF9IWDF14m0a5ITFC1HLe1roNJOAOpi7sBlbXKbX_akXxgkx8g1VpwL7hbaRa3Po_akHU2l9Na9c34bkvhZbg/s640/blogger-image-1975933557.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>My new friend had a couple of hours before his bus departed so he gave me a walking tour of Pamplona. I saw the old citadel, the bull pens and the route the Bulls take when they are let loose to go through the old city each July for "the running of the Bulls." I also saw my first Camino marker in Taconera Park, a silver shell embedded in the pavement. He showed me his favorite restaurant but lunch was already done. He had to go catch his bus but showed me an easy way to get to the station the next day before he kissed me on both cheeks and took off.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDud8hTLsj4h6ATZ-rYjtMs9aDaK48qViiMGnEP9Ma6moPNlQvCNPN96vz365ZESLrukXwPpj5iz6R7Rvh9ZUk1tLkub27TrjvxrL914M2eIB9uI5nmXqvRRhhjunRVe8lxUqySIK1qFT/s640/blogger-image--2128513663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDud8hTLsj4h6ATZ-rYjtMs9aDaK48qViiMGnEP9Ma6moPNlQvCNPN96vz365ZESLrukXwPpj5iz6R7Rvh9ZUk1tLkub27TrjvxrL914M2eIB9uI5nmXqvRRhhjunRVe8lxUqySIK1qFT/s640/blogger-image--2128513663.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I found a place in old Town that agreed to feed me a meal of chef's salad, grilled salmon, potato, bread, wine and tiramisu for dessert. I went back to my room happy, ready to tackle packing for the next day.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-74908909918054186442015-09-08T13:01:00.001-04:002015-09-08T13:01:21.597-04:00STUFFI had a panic attack my last night in Madrid. How am I going to fit all this stuff in this small backpack and how am I going to carry it all to Santiago?<div><br></div><div>I had already left a lot in Asheville, but I decided to purge some more. I tossed aside my cute clamshell leggings, a t-shirt, and my hat. Multiples of bandages and medicines were put aside. I threw away all excess receipts and paper, including my journal (still virgin). The only things I would not compromise on were my rain she'll and my fleece, since getting caught on a trail miles from anywhere in rain or cold is more misery than I can contemplate. Everything excess went into the red duffel, which started to look like it was holding enough for an entire trip. Shower sandals, tape, extra food, energy drink powder. I was ruthless. I ended up with a much lighter pack and was able to abandon my idea of having things dangling outside, since everything now fit inside. The only problem was that I would now have to be storing the roller bag I had intended to trash in Pamplona. Did I subconsciously overpack on purpose so that I wouldn't have to lose my old friend?</div><div><br></div><div>The Camino is supposed to be about getting rid of excess baggage--physical, mental, and spiritual. I feel like a failure already.</div>footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-22984883252964372462015-09-08T12:25:00.001-04:002015-09-08T12:27:12.959-04:00Palacio Real<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPU15Cu6iScgulwHSj1NB-UWAewVSB4wnkvoUs9SeiqyilQIxHyOpaaNqipvLcWQG05EQTtcaZKltilIuUw3MdH7P9-wiL-lt67gkcHn4m_PXQTWbSSCxh1ehKJMq8TgooyDNrCp7SKaEn/s640/blogger-image--2073063017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPU15Cu6iScgulwHSj1NB-UWAewVSB4wnkvoUs9SeiqyilQIxHyOpaaNqipvLcWQG05EQTtcaZKltilIuUw3MdH7P9-wiL-lt67gkcHn4m_PXQTWbSSCxh1ehKJMq8TgooyDNrCp7SKaEn/s640/blogger-image--2073063017.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi101F8ke8RkcT-EkusCzodJhqnxvKl1lTDhJDQAIw9BF5gDphuMKylPMYf2OpxSCZbcVaFdK9zZ_wn32DX87No41QMsHyi8zFXTl9AwIIA3g2TBk8tcN4cznzThww9QAZvhPT5m6AID_64/s640/blogger-image--248080726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi101F8ke8RkcT-EkusCzodJhqnxvKl1lTDhJDQAIw9BF5gDphuMKylPMYf2OpxSCZbcVaFdK9zZ_wn32DX87No41QMsHyi8zFXTl9AwIIA3g2TBk8tcN4cznzThww9QAZvhPT5m6AID_64/s640/blogger-image--248080726.jpg"></a></div>footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-77168441462869965102015-09-04T10:52:00.000-04:002015-09-08T11:45:30.865-04:00THE REAL MADRID<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Wow, I have a whole day in Madrid and I have to make it count!<br />
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I didn't sleep well at the hotel. At 1 a.m. someone passed my door with a really loud roller bag. At 2 a.m. someone came by to noisily join a party in progress, which was pretty quiet until he got there. Did I mention the walls are thin? I finally slept and woke up at 8. My body told me to go back to sleep and I woke up at 10. I finally left the room at 12, ready for my first "whole" day in Spain.<br />
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I had originally planned to visit a couple of the big art museums that are very near the hotel. I looked at the map and saw that the Royal Palace was less than two miles away, a good walking distance for me. I would rather look at history than Picasso, so I made that my goal.<br />
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Actually, there are several royal palaces, and many Royal buildings on the map. I passed Royal Academies, Royal museums, etc. "Real" is "Royal" in Spanish. After many difficult years under dictator Francisco Franco, the Spanish love their royal family. However, King Juan Carlos did get in trouble with the public for going on a luxury African safari when the people were suffering unemployment over 23%. The safari was actually paid for by a Syrian businessman, but the King said he didn't want his son "waiting forever like Prince Charles." After almost forty years in power and overseeing the government transition to democracy, the King abdicated in favor of his son, Felipe, in 2014. I think Elizabeth does not want to see Charles and Camilla taking over, and William is enjoying his young family life too much. So she waits.<br />
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It was a pleasant walk to the Palacio Real. There are lots of tourists and many different languages around me. I see a lot of short short denim pants, but I am out of the fashion loop and don't know if that's a local thing or a broader fashion statement. We had similar "hot pants" in the 1960's, but I don't remember them being made of denim, except perhaps for Daisy Mae Clampett's.<br />
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The Royal Palace is huge, consisting of a large courtyard surround by three legs of the multistory palace, anchored by a large church on one end. One leg holds the Armory, which contains ancient suits of armor and even life sized horses fully armored except for their legs. Some of the gauntlets had sharp spike across the knuckle area, so a slap by the back of the hand would have caused serious damage. Some helmets had curled horns in the ear area, which I guess was to make the wearer look more fierce or godlike.<br />
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The Palace itself is no longer lived in, but is used for ceremonial occasions. The dining room must sit over a hundred people. The throne room was sumptuous, of course.<br />
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I started walking back to the hotel and opted for some interesting detours through diagonal streets and plazas. Forty five minutes later I was back at the palace, even though I could have sworn I was heading in the direction of the hotel. At this point my foot was hurting, so I quickly went the direct way home, stopping only to enjoy some Spanish paella and wine at an ancient looking bar/restaurant. It was not what I expected. The rice was lukewarm, maybe because I was again eating my dinner after 4 p.m. when lunch service was officially finished. The paella also was very crunchy, and I had to pull a lot of shrimp fins, chicken bones, mussel shells, etc out of my mouth. I have heard they put "everything but the kitchen sink" into paella, and this was an example.<br />
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-46864055093019597842015-09-03T09:54:00.000-04:002015-09-08T10:51:36.924-04:00SEEKING SIM<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I can't sleep on planes. I felt like I had dozed, but my fitbit didn't log any sleep. So I landed in Madrid at 11 a.m., kind of groggy but ready to take it on. I didn't have a guide book but knew my first item of business after getting my bag was to find the RENFE, or train station, and get a senior discount pass, which would entitle me to 40% off on the trains. I always remember advice like that, even if I don't know where I'm supposed to go.<br />
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|I had to go down the crazy little steps to get off the plane, a real challenge with hand baggage and no sleep, then walk forever to get to the main part of the airport. The main airport is beautifully set up for tourists, with bus, Metro and distance trains right there. I found where I needed to go and bought an immediate ticket to get downtown and a ticket for Saturday to Pamplona. I had booked a small hotel right across from the train station so I wouldn't have to walk far with my luggage.<br />
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It took me a few tries to figure out which exit to take out of the huge train station, then to find the "right across the street" hotel whose street wasn't shown on my map and nobody I asked knew where it was. A helpful man whipped out his cell phone and found "Calle Dr. Drumen" and directed me. It parallels the main street and is definitely tourist oriented, with a McDonalds, KFC, Burger King, and Starbucks all on one block, along with numerous sidewalk cafes. Hostal Buelta was smack in the middle of the block, but I was too early to check in.<br />
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I asked about finding a Spanish SIM card for my iphone so I could avoid Verizon roaming charges. The man at the desk told me there was a phone store "right up the street, not sure how far." I left my roller bag and went out for a walk in the beautiful sunshine. The neighborhood consists of a mix of government and commerical buildings made of stone. The sidewalks are wide with room for plenty of sidewalk cafes. Many shops are closed due to Spanish siesta time, from approximately two to five. After walking about a mile uphill, I hadn't seen a phone store. In Africa and Latin America they are all over. I decided to get my tired body back to the hotel, rest till the shops reopened, and try another street.<br />
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Around four, I opted for dinner at one of the lovely sidewalk cafes. My dinner is actually lunch, since Spanish custom is to have supper at 9 or 10 at night. If I wanted to eat, I had to get to one before they closed lunch service. A lot of the restaurants don't even open till 9, and nightclubs don't open till midnight. When do these people go to work in the morning.? The restaurant I chose specialized in calamari, even though Madrid is far from the ocean. I wanted something little and asked for a local beer and a mini bocadillo, the classic Spanish sandwich. I got a slab of chicken on a dry French roll, with no mayonnaise, tomato, lettuce, or anything. Well, it was cheap and I got to watch the people go by.<br />
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I had better luck on the other road I chose to walk along. I passed the Prado, a famous art museum, and walked about a mile up and found an internet store that sold SIM chips. Ten Euros for two gigabytes of data, plus 8 mb of talk/text. The owner changed the SIM card for me and I was careful to store my Verizon card where I could find it again. Interestingly, I still got a couple of texts on my Verizon phone number after this, so I'm not sure how that works.<br />
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-21701419786829097062015-09-01T06:41:00.000-04:002015-09-08T09:53:29.181-04:00PREPARING FOR THE CAMINO<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
For about nine months I have been planning to walk the Camino Frances, a 500 mile trek across northern Spain. Why? Because I can (maybe). Because, at 63, I feel age creeping slowly into my body and that a withering crone is in my future. A good diet and lots of exercise might stave her off for awhile, but my intentions are always much better than what I actually do, so she is there, waiting for me.<br />
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People ask me if I got the idea for this journey from watching Martin Sheen in "The Way." Actually I never saw the movie till about two weeks ago, when I saw that it was free on Amazon Prime. I watched it again last week on Netflix with my daughter-in-law in New York. She fell asleep, so it can't be that exciting.</div>
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I first heard of the Camino when I bought Shirley MacLaine 's book of the same name in 2000. It sat on my shelf and went through several moves with me till I finally read it this year, after I had already decided to go. Honestly, I couldn't finish it. I gave it away as soon as I could. I have no intention of being visited by all the wacko spirits she conjured up along the way. Shirley, you're crazy.</div>
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There is an active Camino group where I live in Asheville. They meet weekly at a local coffee shop. The three times I went, there were 10-20 people there, and all had gone at least once. The local REI outdoor store has Camino lectures once a month, and I have been attending those since January. The room is always full and there is a mix of those who have been, those who want to go, and those who are trying to figure out what a Camino is. (The word means "walk" in Spanish.)</div>
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So I have been preparing for awhile, trying to figure out how little I can carry on my back since I don't want to finish as an invalid after carrying half the contents of my closet for 500 miles. </div>
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The prevailing wisdom is to take two sets of clothes, one to wear and one to wash. I have trouble with that. A young fit person can do this journey in under a month, walking about 25 miles a day. I am planning on two months, staying in some towns to "smell the roses,"more likely wine grapes, along the way.</div>
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Another big issue is getting the right shoes. I'm taking a pair of Brooks Cascadia trail runners, walking sandals, and flip flops for the shower. Taking only one pair of sandals is recommended, but I hate to get my walking sandals wet before t wear them out to dinner, and I need sandals for the communal showers in the hostels so my feet don't pick up some weird fungus and rot off. On a 500 mile walk, your feet are your most important asset. Some people wear Crocs, but my feet don't like them.</div>
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A wrench in my plans came when I developed painful Achilles tendinitis about two months ago. I had plantar fasciitis about ten years ago that took two years to get rid of, and I hoped this wasn't the end of my plans. An X-Ray showed a bony projection, or heel spur, on my right foot. My podiatrist prescribed ice, exercises, and alternating my daily training walks with pool walking days. I was told to walk in the pool for the same amount of time as I walked on land. I have access to a pool but I found walking in it incredibly boring. It's not like I could take my iPod in. My training walks were never more than five miles, and my pool walking was never more than an hour.</div>
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As a result, I am not in the shape I want to be in for this journey. My podiatrist and several friends questioned if I should go. My thought was that I could always find a beach city in Spain somewhere and hole up for the duration.</div>
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Another worry is that the first day of the walk has a 3000 foot elevation gain over the Pyrenees then a steep descent. Many people, especially older ones like me, wrecked knees and feet so badly on this part that they had difficulty continuing. There is only one hostel on the way up and it was already booked up. My former teacher from UNC, who has walked the Camino several times, advised starting in Roncesvalles, after the Pyrenees. I felt like he had given me permission to avoid the difficult part. "Make it YOUR Camino," he said, and I have taken those words to heart.</div>
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I still have right heel pain, especially when getting up or after walking 2-3 miles. My podiatrist gave me an okay to go, along with prescription strength ibuprofen.</div>
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After frantic last minute packing, I decided to put my backpack and trekking poles, which have metal tips and are not TSA friendly, into a wheeled duffel bag I had set aside to donate to Goodwill. It has one rubberless wheel but still rolls noisily. It is an old friend that has been around the world with me and on long trips to Africa and South America. I somehow feel better that my old friend, who like me is slightly broken and has seen better days, is accompanying me on the first part of my journey.</div>
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I will take it slow and modify along the way if I need to, even if that means there's a Spanish beach in my not too distant future.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-26760052058874734002013-05-24T20:43:00.000-04:002013-07-12T21:08:19.686-04:00TO ASHEVILLE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It was expensive to fly from Ft Lauderdale to Asheville, especially with luggage, so I opted for a cheap deal on a rental car and took two days to drive up (770 miles). With hotel, food, and sightseeing, it ended up costing about the same as the flight. After two years away, I thought the gradual "decompression" would be best.</div>
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I drove up the coast of Florida the first day, vaguely planning to stay in Savannah overnight. Well, that was a ways off the highway and the hotels were expensive, so I opted to stay overnight near Brunswick, Georgia. I visited the Hofwyl-Broadfield Plantation the next day and learned all about antebellum rice farming. I knew nothing about this, thinking the South was all about cotton. Rice was actually a major crop until they started growing it better and cheaper in the Western U.S. Like the Biltmore House branch of the Vanderbilt's, the family turned to dairy farming to survive. Unfortunately, the last unmarried daughter died in 1973 and the plantation ended up in state hands. They did live very well in their heyday, traveling to Europe to furnish their more elaborate mansion in Charleston. At one point the plantation had 357 slaves.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hoftwyl-Broadfield Plantation-lots of oaks and moss</td></tr>
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The next day I continued the drive through Georgia and South Carolina, stopping occasionally to look at interesting things. I finally arrived in Asheville that evening, and went to dinner with my next door neighbor, Deborah. I stayed at her house for two nights before the movers came with all my stuff that had been in storage for two years. It was really disconcerting to see all those boxes when I had been basically living out of one suitcase for so long. But having a lot of STUFF is the American way. I didn't get rid of as much as I thought I had, which was a good thing in that I didn't have to replace much.</div>
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Moving in wasn't hard, since everything pretty much went back where it had been before. My only issue was that the renters, who moved out last October after a military transfer, took all the cleaning stuff I had left, like vacuum cleaner, mops, buckets, stepstool, etc, so I did have some things to buy. The management company was very nice and replaced the vacuum cleaner and had someone come and fix the holes in the walls. I remember having to fix that kind of stuff when I was a renter so I could get my deposit back, but I guess they don't do that anymore.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-59972478416572783772013-05-17T20:00:00.000-04:002013-07-12T20:01:22.456-04:00FT LAUDERDALE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The final days at sea were eventful but relaxed. I attended several lectures by a physicist on astronomy and learned about comets, eclipses, and our universe. I haven't been following this in recent years and missed that Pluto is no longer considered a planet. One planet (Venus?) has heavy clouds of carbon dioxide, which cause an atmosphere loaded with sulfuric acid and temperatures of 700 degrees. Is this our future? We get a six page mini New York Times, that has an article stating that we have just passed the dreaded milestone of 400 parts per million concentration of carbon dioxide in our air, "a march towards disaster."</div>
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I also took several classes on computer photo editing and the new Windows 8 program. I am not planning on switching from Apple, but thought it would be a good thing to know if I run into it in the future. The main change is that it uses touch screen a lot instead of the mouse, just like you would do on an IPAD.</div>
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A lot of our events are food oriented: an international fair with booths of food from different countries; Dutch and Indonesian High Teas instead of the usual Earl Grey and scones; an early Memorial Day BBQ with chicken, pork, fish and steak; more free cocktail parties to celebrate the end of the voyage. I am skipping more and more meals since I can't keep up. The scale here shows that I haven't gained any more weight, but it sure feels like I have gained 20 in the past two weeks! All this will change soon when I do my own shopping and cooking. I have been going to the cooking demos on the ship, which include a lot of high calorie foods but also simple fish and chicken recipes. </div>
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I have not done any dancing, casino, or stupid cruise games. The weather has been pretty good, so just reading on the deck is nice. Occasionally I walk a few times around the promenade deck, but haven't hit the gym much. I am excited about getting back to Biltmore Lake and walking the trail around it for my daily exercise. </div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-38816138102232439812013-05-14T19:19:00.000-04:002013-07-12T19:57:03.030-04:00BERMUDA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Bermuda consists of 138 islands with a total area of 27.7 square miles. It is a British territory with a Governor appointed by the Queen. It was discovered in 1509 by Spain, but they were preoccupied with their rich settlements in America and did not settle in Bermuda. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiietiajPkyjWqxBmmlo7uk0n2a8yWzhxko1IwtTtxD5xabU8ntvcXm1FhyvWw-NveEVeHUzIMWax_Gw8IOwDhP5P9HvtRedilqXrZK63i3s2s09rniR-ajRbwzdfETy8J3AqUgfaI4iU4x/s1600/P1020691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiietiajPkyjWqxBmmlo7uk0n2a8yWzhxko1IwtTtxD5xabU8ntvcXm1FhyvWw-NveEVeHUzIMWax_Gw8IOwDhP5P9HvtRedilqXrZK63i3s2s09rniR-ajRbwzdfETy8J3AqUgfaI4iU4x/s320/P1020691.jpg" width="240" /></a>In 1609, an English ship carrying colonists and supplies to the new settlement in Jamestown, Virginia, wrecked in Bermuda. The wreck supposedly inspired Shakespeare's play, The Tempest. Everyone survived the wreck and they built two new ships from salvage and native cedar before heading on to Jamestown. The Virginia colony was starving, so they headed back to Bermuda to get some of the abundant food they had found there. In the meantime the captain died, and his nephew decided to go on to England instead of returning to Jamestown, which floundered without the promised supplies. The captain's body was taken to England for burial, but his heart literally remains in Bermuda. </div>
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Bermuda was permanently settled by the English in 1612 as a way station for ships going to and from the colonies. It became more important after American independence. During WWII the British traded a 99 year lease on two military bases for 50 American destroyers. At one point the US had thousands of soldiers here, but the leases were given up 15 years ago when the US was going through a rash of base closures. An international airport, schools, and churches were built on the site. The barracks now provide housing for low income Bermudians.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ft St Catherine<br /></td></tr>
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St George was the first capital and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. A prominent feature is King's Square, named after George III, which has replicas of stocks, pillories and a dunking stool. We watched a reenactment of a woman being dunked in the adjacent harbor for "nagging and gossiping." We also visited St Peter's Church, the oldest Anglican church in continuous use outside of the British Isles. which was built in 1612 and rebuilt in 1715 after a hurricane. A lot of the graves and plaques in the graveyard are for early settlers who died from epidemics. There was a separate graveyard for slaves.</div>
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Nearby is Fort St Catherine, built in 1614 by Bermuda's first governor and now a museum. It overlooks the site where the Jamestown settlers became shipwrecked in 1609. The stone ramparts have lots of old cannons looking out to the ocean.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Replica of the Deliverance, made by the survivors after their ship wrecked here in 1609</td></tr>
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The beautiful Botanical Gardens opened in 1898 and cover 36 acres. Besides ornamental horticulture, there is agricultural research and an art museum.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grave at St Peter's Church</td></tr>
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Tourism is the main industry. We saw three other cruise ships while we were there, and they were expecting a "megaship" of 5,000 passengers the day we left. Offshore businesses are the second main source of income, although with new rules it is not the tax haven it used to be. They have 7,000 foreign workers. Our guide pointed out homes of Ross Perot and Michael Bloomberg.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of yachts!</td></tr>
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They have good roads, but owning cars is discouraged with a 75 to 150% tax and $8/gallon gasoline. Public transportation is well developed with ferries and buses. The international airport has about seven different airlines using it.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were only one in a line of cruise ships leaving Bermuda</td></tr>
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Bermuda has no rivers or freshwater lakes. Drinking water is collected on the roofs of buildings and stored in underground tanks for each home or property. You see endless white roofs made of lightweight coral limestone. These are washed periodically with a mixture of lime and chlorine, which purifies the water before it runs into the tank. There are also some desalinization plants, but the water from these is very expensive. They do have hurricanes here, and the houses are built to sustain 170 mph winds.</div>
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The Bermuda triangle, with apexes in Bermuda, Miami, and San Juan, Puerto Rico is said to be responsible for mysterious shipwrecks and plane crashes. Other well known terms are Bermuda grass, Bermuda shorts, and Bermuda onions.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-63930787148425293282013-05-11T18:13:00.000-04:002013-07-12T19:13:09.838-04:00AT SEA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What do we do on board ship? A lot of it is just waiting for the next meal. The Prinsendam is the smallest Holland America ship and goes to ports the big ships can't. Most of the people on the ship had started in Ft Lauderdale and were finishing there, a 62 night Grand Voyage across the Atlantic and around the Mediterranean and back. I was only on for the last two weeks, from Barcelona to Ft Lauderdale, so people pretty much knew each other and had their routines.<br />
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There were lectures, dancing, bingo and other games, a beautiful library, and food, food, and more food. They had Happy Hour, so you could get a glass of wine or something before dinner and take the second free one in with you to the dining room or wherever you wanted to eat. Sometimes I skipped the formal meal and just got a hamburger and two for one beers on deck. They also had a nice buffet with lots of regular and "Asian fusion" food. And don't forget the ice cream bar!<br />
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We had a beautiful seafood buffet on deck one day, all locally caught, and they showed some pictures or had the heads of some fish, like the 8 foot tuna. I especially enjoyed the afternoon tea every day at 3 p.m., with live chamber music and to die for scones and cream. Didn't help my waistline, though. Luckily there was also a beautiful gym on board, and not many of this mostly older crowd used it.<br />
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At 9 p.m. there was usually entertainment and dancing, but I rarely made it. Too much! They did have some good entertainment. They had contract performers that stayed on for all or part of the voyage, plus local musicians, comedians, puppeteers, etc that came on for a few days. An example was the fabulous Flamenco group that joined us in Barcelona and left in Cadiz.<br />
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One night we celebrated the 140th anniversary of Holland America, and the pastry chefs went wild!<br />
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My favorite (and calorie free!) things were the little folded towel creatures the cabin crew left on my bed every night, along with a piece of chocolate and the schedule of activities for the next day. I actually took a one hour class in how to do these, but the crew gets two days of this in orientation and I couldn't begin to rival them.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-51936138184817977842013-05-09T17:48:00.000-04:002013-07-12T18:11:21.437-04:00THE AZORES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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On May 8 we reached Punta Delgada on Sao Miguel, the largest and most populated island of the Azores. All of the nine islands are volcanic in origin, and there are many craters and geothermal features. It is part of the mid Atlantic ridge, the world's longest submarine mountain range, formed 250 million years ago. The first recorded sighting was by the Portuguese in 1427. It remains a territory of Portugal, 900 miles away.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sete Cidades Lake</td></tr>
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I took a trip to Sete Cidades, named after the seven kingdoms of Atlantis, which the Azores are supposedly the remains of. The village is on the shores of two crater lakes divided by a bridge. One has famously blue water and the other green, but the color difference is because of the algae on the green side. The day was overcast, so they looked much the same to me. The village was small but modern, and seemed a different world from villages in Africa. We stopped at a picturesque church.<br />
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On returning to Punta Delgada, we went to a tasting of local wine and cheese in the harbor area. I enjoyed both. After going back to the ship for lunch, I walked around the town. It was frustrating not to be able to get internet to work at the shopping mall. By this time it had started to rain pretty heavily. We were lucky to be in town at the time of their major festival, Senhor Santo Cristo dos Milagres, but the rain put a damper on the many lights and flowers that make the festival famous.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Horta</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pico Island</td></tr>
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One of our engines is not working, so we stayed in town several hours past scheduled time for the part to be flown in, along with the technician to do the repairs. The engine was eventually fixed, but one of the stabilizers was out, so we were unable to get off the ship in Horta, our scheduled port the next day, because the ocean was too rough for the tenders without having the stabilizer. I did get pictures of Horta, on Faial Island, and nearby Pico Island as we sailed away. </div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-77946797294841338532013-05-05T22:57:00.000-04:002013-07-07T23:25:06.278-04:00SEVILLE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new home for two weeks</td></tr>
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Sailing aboard a Holland America ship is certainly different from a student ship like Semester at Sea. The main focus is body, not mind, with emphasis on food. Breakfast is available at 6 a.m. and the food circus goes on in many venues till midnight. I took a tour of the food galleys and it looks like they use as much food in a week as SAS did for a whole semester for roughly the same number of people! In an average week, they use 6,400 pounds of meat, not including poultry and seafood, 12,040 eggs, and 2,500 pounds of butter. We only have about 550 passengers! The quality is a world apart also, with beautiful presentations of luscious meat, fish, pasta, salad, and dessert dishes. They seem happy to cater to whatever you wish, also. A far cry from the buffet lines of mostly rice, pasta and unrecognizable main dishes in the SAS buffet. I was not tempted to gain weight there, though. We will see what two weeks on this cruise does to my waistline. It is too much, though, and I already find myself skipping meals due to overload!</div>
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On the third day we docked in Cadiz, Spain for a day. Cadiz is the oldest city in the Christian world, with walls built in the reign of Julius Caesar. The port took in much of the wealth that came to Spain from the Americas from the 15th century on. The name of the region, Andalusia, means "land of the Vandals," from the Visigoths who displaced the Romans. There were subsequent invasions from Arabs, Berbers, English and French.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cadiz, Spain</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fans for sale</td></tr>
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I took a day trip to Seville to see the Alcazar, the oldest royal palace in Europe, built by the Moslems in the 11th century. Adjacent to it is the third largest gothic Cathedral in the world, built in the 15th century on the site of the old mosque. The tower remains. The son of Christopher Columbus is buried in the Cathedral, and an honor guard of four statues carries some of the remains of the man himself, although he was buried in Santo Domingo. His body was apparently moved a few times and lost pieces with the moves. The idea of being cremated and scattering ashes doesn't bother me, but scattering body parts, or "relics" is pretty gross.</div>
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In the 15th century, Seville was the fourth largest city in Europe, after London, Paris and Naples, with a population of 130,000. In 1649 it lost half the population to epidemics. There is an old Jewish quarter, but most of them were banished in the Inquisition. What remains of the old city is a pleasant blend of narrow and windy cobblestone streets, wide plazas, and beautiful parks. It is very peaceful, but the history has been violent at times. The city has grown a lot. Major crops are grapes and cork, an excellent basis for their wine industry.</div>
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As we left town, we visited Plaza de Espana, built in 1929 for the Ibero-american Exhibition. The surrounding area has many beautiful buildings built by various countries for the exhibition, many of which remain as consulates for those countries.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-15674550846235636982013-05-01T22:10:00.000-04:002013-07-07T22:41:13.659-04:00BARCELONA<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I was anxious to see Barcelona, since my son calls it his favorite city in the world, and friend Karen Curtis says you need at least two weeks to see it properly. I have a week there before getting on a ship to Florida. </div>
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The first four nights, I stayed in an apartment in the Eixample District with five other SAS people. This ended up being very nice and pretty cheap at about $125 for my share. We had three bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, living room and wifi. It was very comfortable but the design is a little strange. You couldn't swing open or close the shower door without leaving the sliding door to the hall open because of its protruding handle. Also there was a glass block wall between the two toilets, so having two people use the toilets at the same time was a little disconcerting. This is Europe, and I guess they don't have the same privacy concerns we do in the US.</div>
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Our first day, we all went to a Tapas lunch before visiting the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's famous church, which has been under construction for over 100 years. It is medieval in feel. They still have many projects left to complete, but it is still awesome. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">100 years and still under construction</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The interior is supposed to look like trees</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Casa Batllo</td></tr>
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I went on my own to Casa Batllo, another Gaudi masterpiece, the next day. It was built around 1895 as a residence for a Spanish industrialist and his family. It is a contemporary of my old stomping grounds, the Biltmore House, but seems eons advanced in design, though George Vanderbilt thought he was way ahead of his time with his central heating and two elevators. His house still felt very Victorian, while the design elements of Casa Batlio are taken from nature and make it reminiscent of the colors and fluidity of the ocean.</div>
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I also visited La Pedrera, Gaudi's apartment complex nearby, but did not want to wait an hour in line to get in. Same thing for the line at Palau Guell, off of Las Ramblas. I did go to Park Guell the next day to see his idea of a rural-urban environment. It is up steep streets reminiscent of San Francisco, but they have outdoor escalators to get you up a lot of the steep parts. I went with Susan and Armin, but ended up walking home on my own because I wanted to stay longer. It was all downhill and through some charming neighborhoods.</div>
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I thought I lucked out when I got to the Picasso Museum and the line was not very long. Then someone came by and said it was closed for the day because it was Labor Day. Sure enough, May 1 is Labor Day in Spain and most of the museums are closed. So after standing in line for awhile for nothing like a stupid tourist sheep, I took a nice walk along cobblestoned Las Ramblas and went to the Central Market.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barcelona cathedral</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gothic quarter</td></tr>
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I was intimidated at first by the windy, narrow, car less streets in old town Barcelona, but quickly got used to them. I stayed the last three nights at Hostal Layetana in the Gothic quarter. My room was very basic, with only a sink. I had to walk down the hall for toilet and shower. It did have a great view of the old Roman wall and church tower from my balcony. I visited the old Barcelona Cathedral and Barcelona History Museum. The latter has excavations from the Roman era (1st century BC to 7th century AD) underneath its "modern" section, including public baths and a winery. On top at current street level are a royal palace and a chapel from the Middle Ages. </div>
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I also went to an orchestral concert of Scheherazade, Romeo and Juliet, and Bolero in the Palau de the Musica Catalana, a stupendous hall that is ornate yet romantic.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palau de la Musica Catalana</td></tr>
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I certainly have a lot more to see in Barcelona. I would love to come back here.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-3857726670789916342013-04-23T06:40:00.000-04:002013-04-29T06:56:28.405-04:00GIBRALTAR<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We first saw Gibraltar yesterday morning at breakast, but it was covered with clouds. We must have just been sailing around, because we saw it again in the afternoon. The top was still a little cloud bound, but the shape was easily recognizable. We stayed just offshore the rest of the day to refuel. The straits of Gibraltar are the passage between the Altantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kind of foggy but you'll recognize the shape!</td></tr>
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We had a final party for the Lifelong Learners with hors d'hoerves, champagne, and ice cream cake. It is strange that I have been with these people for over three months. There are some amazing people in this group. The students promise to be even more amazing.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Karen Burns and Sharon Hostler<br />
Field Coordinator and Academic Dean for Spring 2013</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phyllis from Boulder and Jackie from New Jersey</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ed and Barbara Sobie<br />
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-69275110467532570372013-04-21T21:02:00.000-04:002013-07-07T21:41:17.556-04:00CASABLANCA COOKING CLASS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Our final day in Morocco. This is a progressive country of 360 million people. The first transexual operation was done here in 1990, turning an Italian man into a woman. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hassan II minaret-60 stories high</td></tr>
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Only 46% of the people are Arab, while most of the rest are Berber. French and other Europeans are a decided minority. The official languages are Arab and French. Berber was added recently, though it was not even a written language until 12 years ago. Unemployment is 15%, and illiteracy 28%. The French did not invest in public education for their colonies, and the present government is trying to overcome this.</div>
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Casablanca is the largest city and 67% of the economy. Today I went to the Hassan II Mosque to see it in the daytime. It was lovely at night with the lights, but more impressive in the day. Built between 1987 and 1993 at a cost of $280 million, the massive buildings surround a huge courtyard which holds 80,000 people. Overlooking it is the highest religious tower in the world. The three spheres on top represent the three major religions: Christianity, Islam and Judaism. A laser light on top points to Mecca. Inside, the mosque accommodates 25,000 worshippers and has a movable roof. A huge car park is underground. It is all very modern, but with its size, luxury, and beauty, it holds its own against the ancient wonders.</div>
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Afterwards I visited the ancient Medina, or old town, built in the 12th century but destroyed by Portuguese pirates in 1468 and 1515. It was rebuilt by Mohammed I, who was also the first world leader to recognize the new United States of America.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tajine (clay pot) cooking</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">We walked through the local food market. The fruits and vegetables looked especially fresh. They had unusual things like live turtles and snails, which is probably a French thing. The we went to a cooking class at La Toque Blanche.</span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">We learned how to make basic Moroccan food, including appetizers, tajine chicken (cooked in a clay pot), and a rice and raisin dessert.</span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">It was a demonstration, not hands on, but afterwards we got to eat the food.</span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">There was also a demonstration of how to make Moroccan tea.</span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">You wash the tea leaves in hot water, pour onto mint leaves, add sugar and boiled water, then put on a low flame to boil.</span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">The water is poured on somewhat dramatically, with the stream of water held as high as possible while avoiding splashing.</span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">It takes practice.</span></td></tr>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-21343525459584113772013-04-19T06:04:00.000-04:002013-04-29T06:39:26.223-04:00MARRAKECH<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We arrived in Casablanca, the largest city and commercial center of Morocco, in the morning and I immediately set off with a small group on a 3 1/2 hour bus ride to Marrakech at the foot of the Atlas Mountains. The road was a very good divided highway that our guide said was seven years old. He talked almost the whole way about the history and culture of the country.</div>
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Morocco was initially settled by the Berbers 5000 years ago and they still make up the majority of the population. The Arabs came in the 7th Century and introduced Islam, which is followed by 99% of the population. Morocco was the first country to recognize the new United States of America. </div>
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The French came in 1912 and bought land instead of taking it by force, but still claimed sovereignty. The country became independent in 1956 and nationalized the land but bought it back from the French. The population has been growing 8.5% a year, with many foreigners moving in. Education is free through university, but unemployment is high. Many Moroccans work overseas and send remittances home, much as the Mexicans do in North America, and that is an important part of the economy. They have no oil or gas, but phosphate and fish are important exports. There is an ongoing dispute over the Western Sahara (which does have oil) between Morocco and Algeria. </div>
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There appears to be a lot of wealth in Casablanca and Marrakech, with huge buildings and lots of new condo construction. Our guide said Marrakech has 250,000 beds for tourists. They had a million tourists last year and the number has been increasing due to the proximity to Europe and publicity from the Arab Spring. The guide says most of the people are very poor and live in the countryside. Although education is free, it is easily accessible only in the cities.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjem45kel5VI_l505vIglsQBx8CcLJL3gn_Jw9Yv-_j80ZEkH40EF1TWKnDfrQvRdbO1IEd8ElIsH-3MK02YhzfTJTOMXn4xSJcJvccrsm9z8TJh5bwXdvQEPF62gD4C6Pb0F7tuNvSKRMg/s1600/P1020074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjem45kel5VI_l505vIglsQBx8CcLJL3gn_Jw9Yv-_j80ZEkH40EF1TWKnDfrQvRdbO1IEd8ElIsH-3MK02YhzfTJTOMXn4xSJcJvccrsm9z8TJh5bwXdvQEPF62gD4C6Pb0F7tuNvSKRMg/s320/P1020074.JPG" width="320" /></a>Our first stop was the Majorelle Gardens, designed by French painter Jacques Majorelle in the 1920's and 30's. It is a peaceful site that has lots of bamboo, cacti, fountains, birds, and an art deco house. Yves St. Laurent, a famous French designer who bought the site in 1980, was buried there after his death in 2008. The painter is known for a vivid blue color, "majorelle blue," which is I saw many times as I travelled the country.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palace Shaharaman Restaurant</td></tr>
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By this time we were starving, so we went to lunch at at the Palace Shaharaman Restaurant in the median. The inside really did look like a palace, with tiled floors and walls, carpets, moroccan lamps, etc. Our meal started with about ten kinds of vegetable dishes, then chicken baked in a clay tajine, or cone shaped pottery. Next came couscous with a center tower of beef topped with vegetables. The dessert was oranges and bananas followed by almond biscotti and mint tea. We had musicians playing moroccan music through the meal and a belly dancer at the end. It was a fun and satisfying meal.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ceiling detail, Bahia Palace</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">After lunch we took a short walk through the old neighborhood to Bahia Palace, built by the Grand Vizier to the Sultan in the 19th century.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The multiple harems look onto a central courtyard with fountains.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Per our guide, he had four wives and rooms for 24 concubines.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The main room has a ceiling about 50 feet high, which seems to make it very cool.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The huge wooden doors and intricate tile work make the place very impressive</span><br />
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Fiinally we went to the souk (market) and walked through the narrow passages to the plaza, where we could see snake charmers, acrobats, dancers in drag, food booths, and many other things going on.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The souk</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't go to Morocco without seeing camels!<br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqasDtOaoI-bkSQXmQbeXCasewfkKsd8kFQrI1Y5xYDhBQ0cLKzExr7CYQuZYr_9_w38Usbfz37cXrokjNfCq5PhNGtkCk8cQR5ByYqoVlnDRL2WDF9Tsu6qGXK3MOdfDmJGZG8DHw5Ql/s1600/P1020155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqasDtOaoI-bkSQXmQbeXCasewfkKsd8kFQrI1Y5xYDhBQ0cLKzExr7CYQuZYr_9_w38Usbfz37cXrokjNfCq5PhNGtkCk8cQR5ByYqoVlnDRL2WDF9Tsu6qGXK3MOdfDmJGZG8DHw5Ql/s320/P1020155.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We had lunch at the home of a Berber family and enjoyed typical Moroccan food with couscous, vegetables, and tajine chicken. The woman of the house showed us how to make proper Moroccan tea, which includes fresh mint, lots of sugar, and pouring the hot tea into the glass from several feet above.</div>
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On our way back to the ship, we stopped to see the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca. It is the third largest mosque in the world and beautifully lit up at night.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-77203383369606020682013-04-10T20:22:00.000-04:002013-07-07T20:49:21.961-04:00TANGORME VILLAGE<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Our last day in Ghana, I took a tour to Tangorme Village to visit the Ehweh tribe, one of 45 main tribes in the country, with each having its own language and dialects. In 1844 the British captured several of the chiefs and had them sign a bond for 100 years. That ended in 1944, when the world was at war, so the status quo remained until 1960, when Ghana, then named the Gold Coast, became the first African country to gain independence from a colonial power. Kwame Nkruhmah, who believed in African unity and Karl Marx, was the first Prime Minister.</div>
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We went past Kpong Dam, built by the USA to provide cheap hydroelectric power for Kaiser aluminum. The village we visited is just down the road. The dam created a lot of environmental problems, but also jobs and training. It is now run by a Ghanaian company.</div>
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The village consists of several stone block buildings, including a school. The first thing we did in the village was greet all the elders. They had folding chairs set up for us so we didn't have to sit on the ground. Then we had a naming ceremony. Our names were based on our birth dates and the day of the week we were born. Mine is Delali, which they said means "saved by God." All the names had religious meanings, but whether they are Christian I am not sure. When our names were called everyone clapped and we went up front to get a pottery bowl with our old and new names on it, plus a bead bracelet. The beads are very colorful and the area is known for them. Then there was lots of singing and dancing.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and the Prince. Elders are in the background</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jim learns the Ghanian boogie</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">After the ceremony, which lasted a couple of hours(!), we went to see their pottery making.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">They make the pots by hand and dry them in the sun.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">They use a natural dye for glazing.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">During this time the kids were trying to sit with us and hold our hands.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">They didn't ask us to buy anything, although they had a small table selling ugly statues.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We did pay for the tour, though, and it was all a tad too commercial for me, especially knowing that another SAS group had been there the previous day.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Do they do this every day?</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Twice a day?</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making pots. Backache???</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Village schoolgirls</td></tr>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-15191600717743225372013-04-08T05:21:00.000-04:002013-04-29T06:00:40.237-04:00CASTLES AND DUNGEONS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZM4eAQJjoRMYJVbA50OE877TEmjGgY3NiiSCJe6vEkSyOxU2FwluwDQcEIibqRPbLI3bXtA-lRC4MannU2srX7VsYBfyTKyQ2SgxpJxvi1Bmj3R_Y9Vd-gXVMb_Vzhmtt2N-B61LA8gtr/s1600/P1010894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZM4eAQJjoRMYJVbA50OE877TEmjGgY3NiiSCJe6vEkSyOxU2FwluwDQcEIibqRPbLI3bXtA-lRC4MannU2srX7VsYBfyTKyQ2SgxpJxvi1Bmj3R_Y9Vd-gXVMb_Vzhmtt2N-B61LA8gtr/s320/P1010894.JPG" width="320" /></a>The next day we headed to Elmina Castle (aka St George's Castle), the oldest European building in the tropical world. The Portuguese first came to the area in 1471 looking for a route to the Indies, then built the Castle in 1632, ten years before Christopher Columbus made his famous voyage. In 1637 it was captured by the Dutch and was under control of the Dutch East Indies Company until it was sold to the British in 1872.</div>
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We entered the Castle and came to a huge courtyard. On one end is what was the oldest Catholic church in Africa. When the Dutch came, they removed the tower. It later became an Anglican church, ironically sitting above the male slave dungeon. It now serves as a museum.</div>
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We wandered into a smaller courtyard on the side. They used to keep 400 female slaves in the adjacent area, chained to each other. All feces, urine and vomit were left on the floor. Comely slaves were taken to the courtyard. The governor had a balcony overlooking it and could have his pick of slaves. The ones who refused to be raped were tied to a cannonball in the courtyard and given no food or water. Pregnant slaves were taken to houses in town and used as domestic slaves.<br />
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Male slaves were kept in an area on the other side of the main courtyard. There were small cells with little light or air. European soldiers would be kept in there for punishment for an hour or two. Condemned black men were kept in there with no food or water until they died.</div>
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Those who survived the hellish conditions were taken 300 at a time down a narrow passage to the "roof of no return" and loaded onto ships.<br />
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We then proceeded to Cape Coast Castle on the other side of the bay. This was built by the British in 1663 to handle the ivory and captured slaves. It was the administrative center of the British colony until moved to Accra in 1877.</div>
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The captured slaves were chained and shackled together in a stone room with one small high window and fed twice a day. A small trough in the floor captured the flow of urine. Piles of human waste were kept on one end of the room. Those who died had their bodies thrown off the ramparts into the sea. Condemned slaves were put in an airless room that held up to 50 slaves. shackled together. When they all died the whole group was disposed of.</div>
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Female slaves were kept in another area chained so they lay head to toe. The pretty ones were put in a front room and used by the soldiers. After a minimum of six weeks the survivors went to the "gates of no return" to be loaded onto slave ships.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A plaque was placed on the walls of both castles by the Pan African Council in 1992.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">It reads:</span><br />
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"In everlasting memory of the anguish of our ancestors. May those who died rest in peace. May those who return find their roots. May humanity never again perpetrate such injustice against them. We the living vow to uphold this."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJzm3UgA7wg5Ep4kfjxYaeFYvgnhN3hRKG0iMK89hHvBMCZDb0seny-9DE79nMbvHQ5Tr5AIrjPsaPTV6F6rmCwrej0hIK4euoXsfCVa3l7O6y6q2V7pcbMAXgLbMfeTvC3v28DLtDeZj/s1600/P1010941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;">Another plaque commemorates the visit of Barack and Michelle Obama in 1999.</span></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch at Coconut Grove Bridge House</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJzm3UgA7wg5Ep4kfjxYaeFYvgnhN3hRKG0iMK89hHvBMCZDb0seny-9DE79nMbvHQ5Tr5AIrjPsaPTV6F6rmCwrej0hIK4euoXsfCVa3l7O6y6q2V7pcbMAXgLbMfeTvC3v28DLtDeZj/s1600/P1010941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;">We went back to Elmira for lunch at an old fort building turned into a restaurant. </span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJzm3UgA7wg5Ep4kfjxYaeFYvgnhN3hRKG0iMK89hHvBMCZDb0seny-9DE79nMbvHQ5Tr5AIrjPsaPTV6F6rmCwrej0hIK4euoXsfCVa3l7O6y6q2V7pcbMAXgLbMfeTvC3v28DLtDeZj/s1600/P1010941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;">We passed Ft. Amsterdam, which was given by the Dutch to the British in exchange for New York.</span></a></div>
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After lunch, we drove to the port of Tema to find our ship.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-25585912184350860642013-04-07T05:01:00.000-04:002013-04-29T06:01:35.115-04:00KAKUM NATIONAL PARK<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canopy walkway</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQubLvfISvjRwwir6NNdn6jKwfF-faJ54w-0njnVybQwPYqHtaH0tXxkY1jp6h8kL7j_M6o4Zs2tMEXUnHPn8im8q3RfKA3L3WyiejI9-QwFxSufLOSTy88de1dZ-_EdbXIEs-Awpwrfzt/s1600/P1010865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQubLvfISvjRwwir6NNdn6jKwfF-faJ54w-0njnVybQwPYqHtaH0tXxkY1jp6h8kL7j_M6o4Zs2tMEXUnHPn8im8q3RfKA3L3WyiejI9-QwFxSufLOSTy88de1dZ-_EdbXIEs-Awpwrfzt/s320/P1010865.JPG" width="320" /></a>Our second day in Ghana I took a tour to Kakum National Park, one of the few remaining areas of tropical rainforest in the country. There are supposed to be 40 large mammal and 400 bird species here, but I didn't see more than a few birds and a strangely colored lizard. The main attraction here is the canopy walkway, constructed with boards, rope and pipe high in the treetops. You put one foot in front of the other so you don't swing wildly side to side as you walk. It gets kind of crazy when there are several people at once on the same section you are on. I had been on something similar in the Peruvian Amazon, but there were a lot of birds and monkeys there. Here I just saw trees.</div>
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We had lunch at Han's Cottage, a restaurant with a large crocodile pond in front of it. We only saw the snouts coming up out of the water.</div>
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An interesting thing about Ghana is that you don't see anyone smoking. Per our guide, smoking became unfashionable in the 1970's when there was a big campaign by the government, churches and schools to make it socially unacceptable for fathers and mothers to smoke in homes with children. That was expanded to cars and workplaces. Eventually the tobacco companies left and now you only see public smoking in bars. This social pressure seems to work for HIV, also, since the rate is less than 3%, very low for Africa.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cocoanut Grove Hotel</td></tr>
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We reached our hotel for the night, Cocoanut Grove, around 3 p.m. The place is right on a gorgeous rocky beach and has pretty lawns and cottages. I was a little upset to find they have wifi here, since I don't have my laptop with me. I haven't been able to send my blog since Capetown due to lack of internet. My roommate is Susan again, who I shared with in India. She arranged to have a massage before dinner. The masseuse was a black American from New Jersey who had come to Ghana as a missionary ten years ago.</div>
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There was another group of 21 SAS faculty here on an independent tour so we had plenty of people to socialize with. Beer was cheap and the buffet dinner outdoors overlooking the ocean was upscale typical Ghanaian. I was surprised not to see the sunset, but the Ghanaian coast faces South.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-47105847484595948762013-04-06T04:41:00.000-04:002013-04-29T06:02:30.079-04:00TAKORADI<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We reached Ghana ahead of schedule and just hung around offshore until the pilot boat could take us in the next morning. They were supposed to meet us at 8 a.m. but didn't show up till about 9:30 because they couldn't get their boat to run. Very reassuring! A least we didn't have to go through face to face immigration, just get off the ship.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVtthM9BtzM5Ivkc15bPZz6DBAlrkukxrFPUOwMOEqkpSmQ1SUUqtuoxf9iXuZ4h18uV6ljMp8-TgJ85QkDwjeFVNLOMxY5Q-WphGvir1EVFWv5eSKRWcjcvxkM5cMePEDDr178mlKiZg/s1600/P1010805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVtthM9BtzM5Ivkc15bPZz6DBAlrkukxrFPUOwMOEqkpSmQ1SUUqtuoxf9iXuZ4h18uV6ljMp8-TgJ85QkDwjeFVNLOMxY5Q-WphGvir1EVFWv5eSKRWcjcvxkM5cMePEDDr178mlKiZg/s320/P1010805.JPG" width="320" /></a>I took a city tour of the port city, Takoradi, and the historic capital, Sekondi. Takoradi is not as important a port as Tema, near the current capital city of Accra, but carries cargo to and from neighboring countries like Ivory Coast that do not have their own ports. It is also important for the oil and gas industries. That must be where the good jobs are, because we passed several schools highlighting training in those fields. The port has huge piles of manganese and bauxite waiting to be loaded. Gold is the number one export. The country was called the Gold Coast before independence. Cocoa, forestry products, and tourism are the next most important industries. Our guide said that Ghanian chocolate is the best in the world. I tried some, but can't tell for sure. I think my taste buds are used to a higher fat and sugar content.</div>
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A lot of the stores have crazy names like "Jesus is Alive Electronics," "Hands of God Market," "By His Grace Fashion," and "God's Blessing Furniture." The missionaries apparently really did a number on these people. There are a lot of churches of all faiths here, including Jehovah's Witness and Latter Day Saints.<br />
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Sekondi is the old British colonial headquarters. We passed the old British administration building, post office, and train station. They look like they were abandoned hundreds of years ago, but independence was only in 1957. People drive on the right side of the road, and I originally thought the Ghanaians did what the Burmese did in changing to driving on the right side of the road after independence in protest against colonialism. I was told that when the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) was organized only 5 of the 17 member countries were former British colonies, so they went with the majority and changed to driving on the right side in 1974. I feel more comfortable with that, but it must have been very confusing at the time. Most of the cars here are used cars from Europe and the USA and at least ten years old. I didn't see any left hand drive cars, unlike Burma.<br />
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We went to a fishing village. The housing consists mostly of mud walls and tin roofs. We saw some fish grilling and boat building. The village is very poor and has open sewers running through it. A lot of the kids have distended bellies and missing teeth. The people were very friendly, though. The little kids and the adults all seemed to enjoy talking to us. I expected Ghana to have a fairly good standard of living, but this is much worse than the South African townships. There are very few nice modern buildings or houses in the area.</div>
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We drove by the "European" area, where only whites used to live. They still have a nice sports club with golf course and a few decent looking hotels. My guide says they do get a lot of tourists here. There is not really a lot to see, though, since there is no "downtown" or historic buildings that aren't ruins. We had lunch at a decent restaurant. It was a buffet of white rice, spicy rice, plantains, chicken stew, ribs, and fish. For dessert we had ice cream. We had been warned against dairy and I hope I don't regret eating it. Time will tell.<br />
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Our last stop was at the main market. It is a lot of stalls over a big area. There were a lot of narrow paths through it and we just wandered around for awhile till we found our way out. There is not really anything you would want to buy. A lot of vegetables, fish, lengths of material, pots and pans, etc.</div>
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Back at the ship I visited the nearby duty free warehouse area and bought some beers for $1 each. Better than paying $3.50 in our faculty lounge.</div>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-11218115632534203182013-04-05T04:32:00.000-04:002013-04-29T04:40:55.694-04:00SEA ZERO<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Today we passed the intersection of the Prime Meridian and the equator, or zero degrees latitude and zero degrees longitude. It doesn't really mean anything, but everyone was pretty excited about it. They tell us that only 1% of the population of the world has travelled outside of their home countries. How many of that number have passed this point? There is even a name for those who have passed Sea Zero: "Golden Shellbacks."</div>
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We have had a lot of neat programs on the ship during this leg of the voyage from Capetown to Ghana: </div>
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<li style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A Saudi prince, Fahad al Saud, told us about his job working for Facebook and setting up the first Arabic page, which had a role in the "Arab Spring" and is instrumental in letting many Arab women set up and advertise their own home based businesses.</li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A lecture on current day vampires by a professor who is an acknowledged expert and wrote a book about them.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A lecture on the Dalai Lamas by an art professor who lives in Bhutan</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A presentation on "How To Be a Clown" by a lifelong learner who went to clown school</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A presentation on the replica of an ancient Hawaiian boat that a lifelong learner is preparing to join in a voyage around the world, using only the ancient navigation techniques that they used to sail millions of miles of ocean in the past.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The navigators, who study it all their lives, were a dying breed until they imported one from Yap Island to teach at the University of Hawaii twenty years ago.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Presentations on slavery, human trafficking, and pirates</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">My presentation on volunteering in Africa!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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We have such a breadth of knowledge and experience on this ship. Three ports and less than three weeks left. I am excited to move back into my home after two years of wandering, but I feel like I could go on like this forever. My budget won't stand for it, though.</span></li>
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footloosemaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09560860400040404614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8730563685733751862.post-85866163712708571552013-03-30T04:06:00.000-04:002013-04-29T04:30:49.749-04:00CAPE POINT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I went around the Cape Peninsula by car last year, and it was so lovely I decided it was worth doing again. We were supposed to leave at 7 a.m., but that was a mixup with the tour company and the van wasn't scheduled to show up until 9. We got them to come at 8. There were three SAS professors, one student, me, three Chinese people who didn't speak any English, and a German scientist in Capetown for a conference on TB vaccine. I didn't know there was such a thing, but he says it has been around since 1921 and only works on children. There has been no new progress in 40 years, and adults still have to take four pills a day for six months. They are looking to improve that, and Oxford has a clinical trial for a vaccine going on here in Capetown.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmggthrZ79ZnwIjdVLb1SeUiIvbJL7f5FRouHXvl1B8PNOlK_HN6dSu6uN-NxwYL2u98GVe0JfZLDXh5bXabUJ8hTmqB1SJ7pcae-cdSI9xkGIBs45A9YYrnvgpiwOh54DqAVQ9-RcG75-/s1600/P1010751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmggthrZ79ZnwIjdVLb1SeUiIvbJL7f5FRouHXvl1B8PNOlK_HN6dSu6uN-NxwYL2u98GVe0JfZLDXh5bXabUJ8hTmqB1SJ7pcae-cdSI9xkGIBs45A9YYrnvgpiwOh54DqAVQ9-RcG75-/s400/P1010751.JPG" width="400" /></a>We drove through Capetown to Cliff's Bay and saw a lot of people out on the park along the coast walking their dogs, exercising, etc. It looks very pleasant. Formerly this area was reserved for whites. Blacks caught there who were not servants would be transported to the inland black tribal area, even if they had been born in Capetown and lived there all their lives. Even now you see very few blacks. Two bedroom condos here cost about $300,000, so most couldn't afford to live around here.</div>
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We passed a huge township that looked full of poverty and despair. Our guide said most of the residents have been moved to better housing, but foreign immigrants from Zimbabwe and Mozambique have moved in, creating a sinkhole of desperation since few have jobs or any way of making money. Hence the nearby towns, mostly white, have very high crime rates. A real downside to otherwise really nice neighborhoods by the beach.</div>
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We went to nearby Hout Bay, which looks like my idea of a New England fishing town on what must be one of the most beautiful bays in the world. We got on a small boat to go on a 45 minute cruise to Seal Island, located on one end of the bay. The swells were so high i was seriously thinking of putting a life jacket on. We feel so safe in our big ship, but a 30 foot boat is another matter! We got right up to the rocky outcroppings to observe about 500 seals sleeping on the rocks or cavorting in the ocean. They are so darn cute!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We drove across the peninsula to have lunch at a seaside, open air restaurant in Simons Town.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I expected to order the fish and chips, since that is a natural selection at a seaside restaurant.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I couldn't pass up the chance to have an ostrich burger though.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">It was the same price as the beef and chicken burgers.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We passed an ostrich farm and stopped to greet the birds.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I probably ate one of their relatives.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">After lunch, we went to nearby Boulders, a park with a walkway through a rock studded coastal area.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">There are many penguins around.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">They are black and white, but much smaller than the Antarctica penguins we are used to seeing pictures of.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Penguins and people were swimming in an area sheltered by large rocks. </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> </span><br />
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Critters seen today<br />
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Next stop was Cape Peninsula State Park. We passed the crosses commemorating explorers Bartolomeo Dias and Vasco da Gama before stopping near the lighthouse. I had hiked partially up the trail to the lighthouse last year and it was not an appealing project after lunch. Everyone else seemed to be feeling the same way, and most of us elected to hike DOWN to Cape Point, where the driver said he would pick us up. He said it would take 45 minutes but I think we took much longer. I thought it would be a regular trail, the way it started out, but we ended up scrambling up and down over bare rock and wooden slats. There were no handrails and the wind gusts were strong enough to push you over the cliffs. I wish I had had a walking stick because my balance was not the best and the wind did not help. We finally made it down to the beach and the Cape of Good Hope sign, which designates furthest southwest point in Africa. The southernmost point is actually further east. For a long time this was considered the furthest south though, since it is where the ships turned from the Atlantic to the Indian Oceans.</div>
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We had planned to stop at a winery on the way home, but, alas, most everything was closed due to a holiday. Mandela is back in the hospital, and I think the whole country would shut down for a day of mourning if he died. The blacks love him because of his sacrifices for the struggle against apartheid, and the whites revere him because when he took power he could have done anything, but elected to include everyone in the new South Africa.</div>
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