Carl's Thinking

Travels 2023

2023-05-14T06:21:00.010-07:00

Day Five: Overcast this morning so I decided to sleep in. By the time I woke up the sun had broken through the gray clouds. No wind to speak of so I used my new cook stove to make breakfast consisting of an egg Bap and coffee. Found some missing stuff I'll need to pick up today. Emptied the tent, cleaned it out the bugs and grass, then put things back in neatly. For years I've carried a little bag where I keep my change of money. In go the dollars out come the pounds, in go the pounds out comes the Euros, etc. Looks like I've gone and lost it along with 100.00 Euro and 100.00 Rupees. Must have dropped it when I Pulled the Pounds out. Not that many places it could be hiding. Cleaned up my bike a bit and set up the "GoPro" camera. Had a rather interesting experience. I was doing a wash and while sitting in the washroom a young lady comes and we start to chat. Seems she has been on a walk-about in England since May of 2022. She sat down to read her book which low and behold was the same book I'm currently reading. Now this is not a run-of-the-mill book. It is called Wanders In the New Forest which I had just picked up as it looked interesting. What are the chances of a chance meeting both reading an out-of-ordinary book? Sometimes the world is a surprising place.

May 13, 2019: Back to England

2019-05-15T13:10:00.001-07:00

For the first time in five years, I will fly to London Heathrow and not to Dublin. For some reason known only to the airport operators and the airlines flying into Heathrow was cheaper this year. I encountered the first problem when Mark and I arrived at Skyharbor Airport, Terminal three. It seems that Delta is one of two major airlines that fly from this terminal. I had an 11 am flight, and the place was virtually empty. Breezed through check-in and as is our custom we when in search of a restaurant for breakfast. There is only a little expensive coffee shop available everything else is on the other side of customs. This left us with a teeny tiny little muffin and a small cupa reclassified as large.

We said our goodbyes, and I headed to the Precheck line for a very quick security check. I then headed to the gate to wait for my flight. About an hour later I was on board and settled into my aisle seat. We took off on time so far, so good. Arrived in St. Paul Minnesota on time, which was great since by the time we landed, according to my boarding pass, my flight to London would already be boarding. I rush to my gate, which as not that far low and beholds they had not started boarding on time. I’m one of the luckies that get to board early so off I go. I get to my assigned seat and do a double take of the seat I picked. NO! this can’t be correct.

I always chose an aisle seat for the flight from Phoenix to whatever airport I’m flying to Europe. I ALWAYS chose a window seat for the flight to Europe so that I can lean my pillowed head up against the bulkhead. The ticket shows I had chosen an aisle seat for the flight across the pond. NOOOOOO! Well, that’s that I settle in and await my seatmate which is always worrisome. Skinny kid slides up and without so much of a how do you do says, “That’s my seat!” I get up and in he goes put his earphones in losing himself in his world.

O.K.! We are off for London. After dinner accompanied by three free glasses of wine, I can usually go to sleep. Well, that’s not happening so I watch a couple of movies see if I’ll nod off. Not happening. There is one empty window seat in the very back. I ask one of the crew members, all of whom seemed to be over 60 if I could sit there. After looking at me like a deer in the headlights, she points to a vacant aisle seat. I attempt to tell her I already have an aisle seat, but she doesn’t get it. Back to my seat and manage about two hours of sleep and then watch another movie.

Heathrow: walk for about 20 minutes to reach customs. Once there the line seems to go on forever and I sware that from now on no matter the cost I’m only flying into Dublin. Get through customs, get my bag, head to the train station which is in a different terminal. Walk another 45 minutes again swearing only to fly into Dublin. Get to the train station can’t by a ticket to Salisbury one of the customer service people never heard of it. “I’m a London person,” she states as it that explains why she can’t help a customer. At this point, I opt for the bus, and off I go to the Central Bus Station. There I purchased a bus ticket to a town called Woking where I catch the train to Salisbury. I’ve done this many times and usually the quickest way to get there.

Woking: It was an enjoyable ride as the day is beautiful, all sunshiny, blue skies, and gentle breezes. I enter the train station, which is busier than I’ve ever seen it. The ticket line is out the door, people milling about in what seemed like confusion as to what to do. I get myself into a queue to purchase my ticket. I’ve checked out the train board which tells me my train is delayed. No big deal trains are delayed a lot in the U.K. Reaching the ticket agent he tells me my train may be delayed up to three hours. What the hell I think and say to him, “no worries, I’ll get there when I get there.” He laughs as if thankfully I’m not going to give him a ration of shit for the train being off.

On the train platform, I do not hear the usual “mind the gap announcement.” There is nothing but announcements about canceled or delayed trains. So I’m psyched up for a three hour way, but as luck would have it 45 minutes later, I’m on the train to Salisbury. I seem someone got themselves run over by a train closer to London is why things are all mucked up. Nice train ride car is warm due to the sun shining in the window, and I’m nodding off. Every year I have brought home from my travels a minimum of 100 Pounds and 100 Euros to be used the following year. I have looked in the places I usually stash the money but can’t find it so thinking I left it home. I’m thinking of taking a cab asking the driver to stop by a bank to get some money. Upon reaching Salisbury, I decide to walk and enjoy the day which I do

After a warm greeting by the staff at the college, it’s time for a nap. I arrived at Heathrow at 7 am, and it is now 3 pm. I decided to take dinner at the college and then settle in for a good nights sleep and that is just what I did!

My Bike

2019-05-15T11:14:00.001-07:00

The pictures are of the second bike I purchased in England. If I remember correctly I purchased it from Stonehenge Cycle in 2010 and is a duplicate of the bike I have at home. I just picked it up from Hayball's Cycle shop where it lives when I'm not in England. This is how it looks when I drop it off and head home.

Tomorrow I'll add the rear panniers and head out to the campgrounds in Hudsons Field I think. I have almost a week before the Festival starts so I might just go on a ride for a week. We'll see tomorrow.

The opening the panniers on the front is like receiving a gift every year because I don't remember what I left in them. The trunk has a blanket which my friend Gary calls a poncho liner. It is where I carry my non-perishable food when I ride; well some perishable also. One bag will contain my house and bedroom, one my kitchen, one for dirty clothes and other sundries, and the last will be a pantry for more food, wine, etc...

More tomorrow when I load it up for travel.

What do You Carry in Your Backpack?

2019-05-15T07:20:00.005-07:00

This year I carried the following on my travel to England:

Three Fast dry long sleeve shirts that roll up to short sleeve when needed.

Three Fast dry leg zip-off pants with zipped pockets for protection

Three Fast dry underwear

One pair of closed toe sandals. I have two pair using one while the other rests.

One sleeping map

One Rain Jacket

One Flannel Jacket

One Knee brace

Two outlet converters American to British for plugging into

Three additional outlet converters for Europe different from British

Twelve crunch bars for snacking

One head lamp (bought for me by my Camino friend Emily)

Two padlocks for use in hostels

The laptop I’m currently working on

Walking stick

Two fast dry towels

One bag weight scale

Eye Glass strap to hold glasses when I ride

One umbrella

One wool beanie

One ziplock bag full of assorted pills which needs to be cleaned out

One journal and folding file for receipts

According to my scale it weighs in at 20 Lbs

Mother's Day 2019

2019-05-12T10:06:00.000-07:00

LePera's Huntington Station New Years Eve 1960
Dad, Mom, Aunt Elsie, and Uncle Red

December 2018: Endings

And then she was no more. December 2018 my Mom died. We have some inkling that certain events will ultimately happen you know like people dying. However, for me when it happened the thoughts I had over the years became a reality. My Mother was Sixteen when I was born in 1943. After leaving the hospital, we went to my grandparents home where we would live until my Dad came home, hopefully, from WW II. The house we came home to was build in the early ’20s and consisted of a kitchen, a bathroom, two small bedrooms, and a parlor. Living in the house was me, my Mom, her sister, and my grandparents. Thus I became like another child of my grandparents with my Mom and Aunt more like sisters. Thus we all grew up together of which I remember very little.

I know we all lived in that house together. I have pictures showing us all living together but no memory of it. Really at this point memories of that time have been on the wane. I look at the old back and white pictures which stirs glimpses of memories around what was happening. When I think back, I mostly find pictures stored in my memory of the house but no people until I’m about five years old. I can see my grandfather remodeling some part like the bathroom. However, there are no memories I can drum up of my Mom or Aunt at the time. I know they had to be there, but they are not. Other family members come to mind but not them.

The reason I’m dwelling on this is that there are lots of relatives and friends of my grandparents that circulated through our home. Almost every time I’d go to Florida to visit my Mom I’d make her drag out the boxes of pictures, and we’d look at them together. I’d look at a picture unsure of who it was, and she would provide the names. Once named I’d be able to connect to their stories in our lives. We’d laugh or shake our heads over the memories of those stories. That long-ago time was a world my Mom, and I shared that none of my brothers and sisters did.

All those people in the pictures are now all gone. Well until December that is. My Mom was the last of them and her generation. Because of our combined history, her generation was also mine more then mine was. Although I was a war baby born in 1943, I did not grow up so much with that generation as I did with a generation of immigrants coming to America for a better life. My life was influenced by the Victorian age, the roaring ‘20s, the depression, and a war.

Now her stuff has all been sold off, and soon her house will be gone, there is nothing left to show she was a person of flesh and blood other than a few pictures I possess. Pictures, furniture, clothes, jewelry and so much more are now gone. A whirlwind came and made it all disappear, poof. All the cliches of “she will always be with you in your hear, or she lives in your children” do not offer a person to sit with and reminisce about a life lived together.

When my Mom died, I experience the onset of profound loneliness. There is no one left for me to say “Remember…”

Off For Year 10

2015-05-09T02:33:00.001-07:00

May 7, 2015: 12:57 pm

Seems near impossible that this is the tenth year in a row I will be crossing the Atlantic to travel in Europe. I managed to get to the plane even after forgetting a few things, which my friend Mark helped me out with. The plane containing me is now on the way to Philadelphia via U.S Airways. There will be a brief layover, than it will be off to Dublin. This will be my fourth time of flying into Dublin after many years of flying in to first Gatwick, then Heathrow.

So the reason I switched airports is due to cost of the flight. Flying into Dublin is about $300 cheaper. On top of that, Ireland is part of the EU and therefore my dollar goes further. This year the, per my friend Mark, the Euro conversion is 1.01 for each dollar spent. Compared to the conversion rate of 1.50 to the dollar for the pound I think I will be spending most of my time in the EU this year.

Dublin offers quite a mix of venues for your enjoyment. There are walking tours, which are fun, lots of bus tours to get you about the country and beautiful scenery at every turn. When Mark and I came here, for the first time in 2011, we stayed a The New Times a youth hostel. We then ended up at Abigale's, not sure why, another youth hostel. Where I have stayed the last few years and will again this year. The New Times was nice, but the common area is bit cramped for the number people staying there. We had to climb several flights of stairs carrying our suitcases equals not fun. However, the room we stayed in had a nice amount of space as hostels go. The luggage room was not very big and hard to get your bags in and out.

Abigale's has a much roomier common are along with an elevator. Some of the sleeping rooms are crowed, but I much prefer it to the New Times. One other hostel I have stayed in is Patty's Place. What can I say about Patty's Place, but it is a cheap flophouse. It has Small crowed sleeping rooms, mostly cold showers, and a dingy kitchen for the free breakfast. The luggage room is downstairs with bags thrown in, piled three and four high. However, you can save nine Euro because you get a free bus ride to the airport. Patty's is also a tour bus company and all their tours leave from the flophouse. Last year my daughter and I stayed a several other Patty's places, having taken their bus tour, and found them quite acceptable. You would think the one in Dublin would kept up a bit better.

Getting about Dublin is very easy with walking being the best way to get a flavor for the city. There are double decker, on and off tour buses, which are fun to get the lay of the land. Temple Bar is row after row of pubs all with live music and dancing. Its streets are always packed and the mood is lively. There are quite a few over prices restaurants offering "traditional Irish food." A few blocks away you can find the same variety of food, but at less cost. I do spent money on cooking my own basic food as each hostel has a kitchen and usually pots, pans etc. to get the job done.

I was surprised to find myself, again, apprehensive about taking this trip. However, it was different from previous year's apprehensiveness. I cannot put my finger on it, but just felt like I should not go. Not excited at all, but cannot say I have been very excited in previous years. I purchased the ticket rather quickly this year and will not purchase so early again. That is if there is an again. If there is an again it will no longer be for months on end as has been the case. I will be going back to 3 to 4 week trips to Europe if possible. Will have to see how this tour thing works out. I think part of my reluctances this year to travel alone to Ireland. It seems strange not to have my daughter and friend Cassie to hang with. Cassie is in Thailand this year and my daughter will join me in England late in June.

I am getting use to a new Pad I have purchased for this trip. It is a pound lighter them my Acer Netbook that I have used for years. I was a bit apprehensive at first, but I am getting used to it. Last night I watched a Netflix movie on it and was quite pleased at its performance. Also SKYPED and for the first time no loss of signal, sound or picture. Getting use to touch screen, I keep cleaning it OCD about fingerprints, which works grand.

May 9, 2015: 9:30 am Dublin, 1:30 am Arizona

Nice to have a room full of adults this go around. Several couples from France are sharing the dorm room with me. Spend yesterday inside mostly due to rain and wind. It was O.K. it gave me time to catch up on sleep lost in the flight. Usually I am able to sleep on the plane, but this time no so much this time. So took a nap, SKYPED with Mark, did some emails and a little reading. I have decided to spend another night here and take a couple of day tours I have not done before. Today I will tour the Guinness brewery and maybe the Old Jameson Whiskey distillery, then going to book a Day tour to Hill of Tara. I usually do not do the tourist thing, but what the heck.

I walking to the brewery and spy a small sign on a light post explaining that the church on the other side of the fence has a long connection to the Camino de Santiago. Intrigued I back track to the front of the church and there is a sign indicating a Camion office. Inside I find three volunteers staffing the office. We have a nice chat and share some stories. One of the people I talk to is from the U.S. but has lived in Ireland for 15 years. I ask to see the church and use the bathroom.

Inside there are several plaques talking about the church's connection to the Camino. It seems that has been a starting placer for Irish Pilgrims since medieval times. There was once a Gate in the wall protecting Dublin called the St James gate through which the pilgrims left the city, then heading to the docks for the ship that would take them Spain. So here, I was in Dublin for the fourth time connected to the Camino. Was this a sign?

The woman from the U.S. shows me where the bathroom is and it takes me a moment to understand just were it was. The church was built in 1844 an most not have had indoor plumbing. So they added a bathroom outside up against the church wall. One would wonder if it was once an outhouse. I purchase a Camino passport and am told that I can get my first stamp at the beginning of the Guinness tour. This is because part of the factory now stands on the spot where the St. James gate use to be.

I purchase my ticket then head over to the information desk where low and behold I receive my stamp and a "Buen Camino" from the follow behind the desk. The tour is self-guided and full of bells and whistles. I find the beams studded with rivets and ceramic bricks the most interesting. There are several restaurants with overpriced food. The tour goes up and up until you reach, yet another restaurant perched on top of the factory. By now, it is very crowed to the point it is almost impossible to get in to it, so I turn around and head out. I do not get my pint of free beer, but just can deal with the crowd.

May 10, 2013

Get up early and head over to Suffolk St to catch the Irish Day Tour bus. I have made the reservation on line at their web site. The tour's name is the Celtic Boyne Valley Tour and cost 35.00 euro. It is a small 18-seat bus with almost every seat filled. We are going to see The Hill fo Tara, Trim Castle, Monasterboice, and Loughcrew Passage Tomb. A group of young women in the back eight seats chat away on the ride to our first stop; The Hill of Tara.

The driver, Jamie, tells us that since we have the small bus we will be taking the scenic route rather than the motorways. These roads are narrow and not well kept up. For the remainder of the trip we are bounce and jostle around and ever glad to get out for a bit. It seems that we spend more time on the bus then at any of the stops. I get to be part of the group and we chat, walk, and eat together. The last stop is a church that has the mummified head of a Saint in it. It is a windy, cold day and towards the end, it begins to rain. Safely back in Dublin it is time to say good-bye to my traveling companions and get a little diner before turning in.

May 13, 2015

On the 11^th, I am surprised by an email for an old friend I have not heard from in years, at least 15. It is a dark, windy day and I am spending time arranging to leave Dublin for a couple of days. I will head to Galway for two days then back to Dublin when it will be time to leave for Salisbury. So far, the trip has been relaxing and fun especially meeting new people. I sat with two woman taking about traveling the world. Each had visited over 60 countries, which gave a sad feeling that I have visited so few. I cannot count the number of times I have said, "I have no interest in going there." However, pressed there is no valid reason for why? I am not a world traveler compared to these women and am forced to rethink why I stick to the same countries repeatedly.

Wander around town today visiting museums and stores. Back in the hostel, it is the noisiest I have ever experienced here. There is a group of Jr highers that I think are from Italy. Their caretakers are almost never in view allowing this group to run amuck. An older Russian youth group acts no better and with the addition of alcohol are even worse. I have stayed here four years in a row and have not experience this lever of rudeness, loudness, and drunkenness. I will think long and hard about staying here again in the coming years.

May 15, 2015 Dublin

I am so tired to rude, loud people. I was in an eight-bed room with one other person last night. Around 11 pm, five young people for France come in turn on the light, bang things around set up their beds and leave. Then at 2 am them come back and start again. I say "quite please" and they laugh. Not a good thing to do at 2 am. I get out of bed and they stop laughing and all of a sudden find a way to do things quietly. It was nice this morning sitting in the day room at 7 am and it was quiet until around eight then yelling, as if the person they are talking to is sitting on the other side of Dublin. I watch a guy in his late 40's hitting on every young girl he can get to pay attention to him. There is a limited amount of coffee so instead of a cup this guy fills up a cereal bowl with coffee to drink. People eat and leave their dishes on the table rather them put them on the rack then have to pass on way out. I have just not experienced this kind of behavior in prior years.

I will be leaving in about an hour to go to the bus station and head to Galway. We will see what awaits me there.

May 20, 2015 Train to Salisbury from Dublin

Five days since last post see if I can remember the highlights. Nice bus ride to Galway, which only cost 8 pounds one-way. Comfortable seats along with WiFi and a plug for your device. After arriving, I headed toward the hostel booked on line. You have to love google Map Street View that I used to virtually walk to the hostel. Now here I followed the route right up to the front door of the hostel. My reservation was there and had no problem checking in. I was assigned to room four that was a roomy 8-bed dorm. After choosing my bunk and "unpacking" which was removing my computer from my backpack. There was fellow in bed, not unusual, in hostels at Noon. When out for some lunch then a walk around town. Weather cloudy, and cool with a bit of wind. The weather turned to drizzle, then to rain, then to drizzle etc. I headed back to the hostel and hunker down at a table next to one of two outlets in the room.

I was quiet and seemed to be very few people staying there. Things started to get strange when I noticed that the staff had a dorm also and had the door to it open. There was a guy in the day room who held on to the remote and kept switching channels. Behind me was the kitchen with a door leading to a small courtyard. While responding to emails and Facebook I smelled cigarette smoke, which caused me to look around the room. Finally I figured out people were going out in the courtyard and smoking right next to the open kitchen door. This happened rather regularly while I was sitting there.

May 22, 2015 Salisbury

May 25, 2015 Salisbury

Still here in Salisbury having spent the weekend "working" at the Festival. Volunteering at times is a bit frustrating due to having to watch people running around acting more important than they really need to. One person needs to let everyone know at every event what her title is as opposed to just giving her name and getting on with the useless information she is about to impart. The problem being that those in charge seem to think that their volunteers are bumbling fools who just would not know how to conduct themselves without a good deal of micromanagement. The thing that really causes biting of the tough and smiling falsely is when one of the staff tells me what to do when I am already doing it. A few "staff" attempting to outdo each other in that. But, for the most part it is fun dealing with the throngs before and during an event. I have met several people with whom I have quite a laugh when they say, "You're not British" to which I usually answer, "I'm not" acting very surprised "how could you tell?" Great fun that. I'll be back at it again today at 4 pm then off until next Friday. I'm thinking of taking a ride somewhere returning in time to go to work.

So thoughts:

"Getting Old" whatever that means! I continue to be told by some that I am getting old if reference to some statement I have made. Statement "My hand hurts!" Response "You're getting old!" Statement "My knee hurts!" Response "You're getting old!" Statement "I've farted!" Response "You're getting old!" Statement "I'm Horney!" Response "You're getting old!" And, on and on as if all of a sudden any ailment mentioned after a certain age. So at some point the statement "my knee Hurts!" turns from "Did you hit it on something?" to "you're getting old!" There seems there is this magical turning point that at a certain age it becomes one's age that causes a problem rather then and event. There is also some responses that I find silly such as my Doctor said, "You're really heathy and active for someone your age." What the f… is that? So at my age what is it that I'm supposed to be doing or I should say not doing! I belonged; yes, I admitted it, to eHarmony for a bit. So many of the women who wrote to me indicated that they were impressed with how active I was at MY AGE! Well f… where is my couch, T.V., and wheelchair.

I was watching myself for a few days, must be because I am old, and found myself acting old. Well what the hell does that mean and why did I deem myself such. What I found was my hesitating but for getting up from a chair, holding on to the table as I got up helping with my arms as if my legs could not manage by themselves, or holding on to the handrail as I climbed or dissented stairs. I also noticed that I was walking slightly more bent over the normal. My posture has always sucked. I thought to myself what the hell are you doing? I take notice; look around as if waking from a nap, and answer I don't know in much surprise. I can get up for a chair just fine, negotiate stair without help, and am quite capable of standing up as usual. Maybe I was "getting old." …not!

The Best of George Carlin: Exposing our government and fall of humanity ...

2015-04-09T12:48:00.001-07:00

A NEW ADVENTURE

2015-03-28T16:37:00.000-07:00

PLEASE CHECK OUT THE FOLLOWING LINK:

www.efcst.com/1697597TU

Where There is a Will There is a Way….

2014-06-15T02:28:00.001-07:00

Saturday, June 14, 2014, 12:47 PM England, 9:47 PM France

Starting with yesterday afternoon after arriving at Holiday Inn Express at Stanstead and checking in I start to use their “free Wi-Fi.” The deal is the free Wi-Fi is for 15 minutes then it gives you an option to purchase Wi-Fi for an hour or day. I’d call that “bait and switch” which is illegal in the U.S. Mark and I SKYPED for a while having to reconnect every 15 minutes. This did not happen in Winchester where the wifu worked without asking you to buy time. So I when down to the front desk and was told “that’s the way we do it here.” I smiled and when to dinner which was a decent meal of salad, all most salads here look like they when out back and picked some weeds, a vegetable loaf, and new potatoes with a nice glass of white wine. I had earlier walked over to the convenience store and picked up a few things including my own bottle of wine. After dinner I when back to my room and relaxed working on a section of my blog that has become quite difficult to write. I have to get up at 4 AM tomorrow in order to catch my Ryanair flight. Good Night.

A free breakfast is included in your stay which consisted of cold cereal, coffee, orange juice, and toast. You basic motel breakfast which also offers some other snacky foods, cheese and fruit. Off to the airport which is packed. There must be a couple of hundred flights going out around this time. Zipping through inspection after my gate is called I’m the first to arrive. Now getting on a Ryanair flight is just a tad different from say one of our low cost airlines. There are two queues, that what we call lines, one is for priority boarding and one is for plain Villella boarding. You get priority boarding when you reserve a seat which cost’s either and extra five or ten pounds depending on where you sit. I want to get on the plane first and get off the plane first and have gotten quit good at it. I’m usually the first in the priority line so I get to walk out to the airplane and board. Yes I said walk out and clime up the either the stairs that the plane has built in or ones that roll up.

My seat is the first one by the door and I settle in. Everything on Ryanair cost extra so I have my own snacks and water. They sell Ryanair lottery cards and supposedly all the money collected goes to children’s charities. I have purchased them a couple of time just for kicks as they are really cheap. The flight is nice I guess because I slept most of the way to Bordeaux. Now the fun starts! There is two ways to get from the airport to the Gare, train station. One costs 6 euro and takes 30 minutes, the other costs 1.40 euro and can take 60 minutes. However, the 6 euro bus only runs every hour. At the time I arrived the 60 minute bus would get me to the station first. I jump on and off we go, so far so good. There are kiosks in the station that you can buy your ticket from or wait on the long, long line to buy them from a human who may speak some English.

However, credit cards in Europe have chips in them so you only have to put the card in a little bit instead of swiping it. These machines only take those credit cards so I have to get on the long, long like. Upon reaching my agent I request to go to St Jean Pied de Port. He tippy taps on his computer and says the famous “Es No Posseble” followed by “we are on strike. Not today nor tomorrow. “Monday” I quary? He shrugs his shoulders and I walk away. My little brain goes into overdrive and I get back on line to talk to another agent. But this time I ask for a ticket to Bayonne where you change to get to St. Jean’s. She says nothing about a strike but tells me both trains to Bayonne are booked solid. I’m thinking they must be loaded with Pilgrims however, I’m in correct. They are loaded due to the strike with passages headed to the beach for the weekend.

O.K. now what I keep thinking. I purchase a map of France to see if there are other towns I can get a train to. BUS jumps into my head let’s see where the terminal is. While I’m thinking about the bus I keep thinking if I can just find out what platform the train will be stopping at I’ll just jump on and pay the conductor. Finally I find a like-minded attendant who tells me the train will arrive on platform 2. I arrive to find the platform packed with people; I wait. The train pulls in and it already has people standing for the ride. Everyone begins to climb into the train I’m last to push in standing on the steps waiting for the door to close. This is a ten car train which is packed from one end to the other like one of those trains you see in films about India. I expect people to start climbing on the roof.

The train is not moving, people are sweating, I back up a bit to get a little air. There is an announcement in French that, of course, I do not understand. People start getting off the train and I hear one woman say they have added another train. We get off and walk back to the next train which is actually attached to this on making it now a 20 car train. I get in find a seat and we are off Bayonne. Es not imposseble! There are times we go around bends in the track and I can see the front of the train that is how long we are. We arrive in Bayonne at the ticket window I’m sold a bus ticket to St Jean which will leave at 18:00 arrive at St Jean 19:30. I have two hours to burn so I walk about, have a biere and am able to get on the internet. The bus comes and is full this time with mostly Pilgrims. I am sitting next to a young couple who are from Switzerland. They are walking the Camino for the first time. We chat a bit as we ride, meanwhile the seat behind us, the backseat of the bus is filled with a group of young boys. They proceed to talk in loud voices for the whole 1 ½ hours.

At St. Jean I head to the Pilgrim office to get my Credencial del Peregrino. The office is packed at 7 PM and I am surprised to find it still open. I’m told that all Albergues are full except one so off I go. I was thinking about heading to the campground that I stayed at the last time and sleeping under the stars, however the weather is not looking promising. So I book a two day stay for 24 Euro and have dinner of 12. Don’t ever tell me “Es no posseble” as that become the forces to prove them wrong. Time and time again I’m told in Europe it can’t be done and I find a way to do it. I want to go back to the person and teach them it is “Posseble” Good Night! Love you!

A day at the office...

2014-05-24T04:09:00.003-07:00

Saturday, May 24, 2014, 2:19 AM Arizona, 10:19 AM Salisbury

I hate going to the loo and finishing my business only to fine that the TP dispenser is EMPTY, bit of a problem isn't it? What to do? Ask the guy next door, but they are empty, shuffle out in the altogether hoping you can make it to the next stall before someone comes in? Oh well here goes! Whew made it! This happened in France once of course that was a learning experience wasn't it. You see most campgrounds if France don’t supply TP so learned that one pretty quick. Have to be more careful with my expectations don’t I? Those expectations will get you every now and then won’t they? A friend once sent me an article on expectations and how they can screw up relationships. Still have it somewhere in my collection of papers I look at every now and then thinking I need to do something with that.

Yesterday was my first day of “work” for the Festival office. I’m a bit nervous wanting to make a good impression and all that. I show up 1/2 hour early in order to watch the person currently manning the desk. Sat with her about 10 minutes and she says “Well I’m off then” and off she goes. My anxiety mounts as I await the first phone call; I’m answering phone and greeting people as they come in. First phone call I almost drop the phone picking it up, but make it through transferring and all; bit more confident now. I’m chatting with the lady across the aisle who is one of two who take reservations and payments for the different events. “You helped us last year didn't you?” she asks. “Yes actually I've been a Stewart for the past three years.” “You were with another man from America right, the one who was making a fuss at one of the events?” She goes on in great detail on this miner event in life. “Don’t remember the fuss” says I. “Have you ever been to the U.S.?” I ask. We talk about Flagstaff for a bit and where she and her husband stayed.

Phone rings for the second time and deftly pick it up and answer. We have this long thing that needs to be said upon answering. “Ageas Salisbury International Arts Festival, how may I help you?” One lady say’s to me “That’s quite a mouthful isn't it?” I get through the next three phone calls and am feeling really confident until… in walks an older lady whom I greet with a smiling “hello may I help you?” What I hear is something about the peaks having snow on them. I smile as I think what fucking peaks there aren't any peaks around Salisbury? She looks at me expectantly as my mind is now stuck on the peaks thing and I don’t know what to say. Helen, the general manage pops out and says to me “She wants to know about Peter Snow” and directs to her to the ticket lady. I’m sitting there with a dumb ass smile on my face. Shit I can understand English! Actually I think I was distracted by the wig hat on her head which she had pulled down over her ears; bit unnatural that.

I’m given a task cutting up paper badges one at a time. The young lady who has given me the task asks if I need any help. I smile “I think I got this.” Here I am spending the day answering phones and cutting up paper when Jane, head of the volunteers, comes out apologizing for not coming out sooner. We discuss my offer to work more shifts at the opening event as they are short staffed. As we talk she is watching me cut up badges. I begin to wonder if there is something wrong with my little rhythm. I smile, which I do a lot in England, France and Spain. It’s a little trick I learned, but most people probably think “Poor fellow is a bit daft” then smile back and go about their business. Anna comes out to relieve the lady at the ticket station. I met Anna the first time I went to the Festival nine years ago.

I saw the line people stretching down the street and stopped to ask what was going on. The fellow I asked explained that it was a big party due to it being the closing night of the Festival. So I ride up to the ticket table and was greeted by Anna’s beautiful smile. I would have bought anything she was selling under the spell of that smile. I looked forward to seeing that smile every year since. She is charge of the whole ticking selling business and is concentrating on making sure all goes well. There is another person manning the ticket table and her name is Poppy. She and I talk for a bit about American and her wish to get over there. My time is up I made it through didn't seem to do to bad a job. All the little badges are hopefully cut to order. I mention to Anna that her youngest, who is now eight wasn't born when we first met, and her oldest was four. We have a chat about how thing have changed and how they are out and about no longer needing a sitter to watch them.

It’s been a good day and what has this to do with expectations you might ask. Only that when you let go of them wonderful things can happen.

Slide Fire and life..

2014-05-22T03:55:00.000-07:00

Thursday, May 22, 2014, 2:56 AM Flagstaff, 10:57 AM Salisbury

Since last evening I've been glued to my phone and netbook watching the events taking place around my home in Flagstaff due to the Slide Fire. A couple of my friends have asked if there is anything they can do for me in connection with my home. I watch posts and news reports about neighbors getting ready to evacuate or have already. What to take and how much my car/truck will hold? Do I stay to the last minute or leave early? I’m now sitting in a pub in Salisbury pondering several of these questions and one more. Should I book a flight home and head up to Flagstaff? What would I take seems to be the biggest question? As I think about it I find the question overwhelming. My first thought is clothes, a box of old pictures, and then it becomes bigger. Can’t take my new kitchen, can’t get my truck out as it’s not running yet again, can’t take my bed, can’t take my big tool box or air compressor, can’t take all the chainsaws, there is so much I can’t take whatever will I do without all this stuff?

Upon return from traveling the Camino de Santiago in 2012 I looked around at all the “stuff” that I’ve acquired and wonder “WHY?” I have just spent 30 days traveling and having a grand time with just two changes of clothes and a tooth brush. Why on earth did I need all this stuff which the more I gather seems to tie me down not set me free? As I inventoried all the stuff I felt the weight of it pushing me down almost stopping my feet from moving. I made a decision to plan on how to unburden myself. Clean up the place and get rid of things I’m not using = not done. Spend the winter getting the house ready to rent out putting some money in my pocket = not done. Look for a place closer to town so I could use my bike or walk rather than drive = not done. Well not gotten much done to lighten the load? Going to do so much an ended up doing so little, but ignoring the weight. Now nature, with the help of a careless human, may take care of all of that. So I've decided I’d just take clothes and a download from my computer. I kidded with a friend of mine yesterday that I’d collect the insurance money and start over new. I've done it before, several times, and can do it again. I have my health, my kids, grand-kids and family don’t need a hell of a lot more than that do I? The rest is just STUFF!

I'll not be booking a flight home as there in not much to be done except pray that my friends in Flagstaff and what they hold dear are safe during this trying time.

A Trip to Nowhere…well not really..

2014-05-21T08:16:00.002-07:00

Sunday, May 18, 2014, 2:23 AM Phoenix, 10:23 AM Salisbury

Kicking back and relaxing after my Odyssey. Made my meeting at the Festival office where I renewed acquaintance with the general manager Helen and the met the head to the volunteers Jane. We are trained in how to answer phones and what to say when one picks up. Seems they may need more of my time than originally planned; no worries mate! Picked up my bike and packed my panniers in an attempt to get ready to travel. However, yet another glitch raised its head in the form of a sim card that is turning out to be a pain. Have to wait for the store to open so I can have them give a look see what’s up. So back at the Kings Head for another porridge and coffee along with the use of their WiFi. Contacted Adelia, a person I met on the Camino last year, and said I’d like to head her way for a visit.

It looks to be a two day ride to get to where she lives then will probably take the train back to Salisbury. However, I may have to put that off due to it being too late a start time. I’m checking the map again to see if I can make the first campground since I don’t want to dry camp right off the bat. When to the movie rode around town, worked on the bike, bought some stuff that I found out I could not live without. I’ve not been up to much guess you could say I’m on vacation.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014, 6:41 AM, 2:41 pm England

Spend most of Sunday dealing with the phone store in an attempt to get my phone sorted out. After a little research I find that on a recent downloaded updater from Android my phone was re-locked and it would now have to pay for an unlock code. Tired of dealing with it especially since there are so may free WiFi hotspots around the city. Left Salisbury on Monday at around 8:00 AM and am glad I’m finally on the road. My plan is to ride down to Poole and then catch a train to Adelia’s town, spend a few days then head back to Salisbury to work at the Festival. No plans after that at his point.

It was a long hard ride as it seems I’d forgotten just how steep the hills are here. It’s been awhile since I've made a long ride that included many hills. I did spend a great deal of time walking along side my bike up some quite steep inclines. Past through some lovely villages one of which is Rockbourne is close to the New Forest. The Roman villa once stood in the center of a large farming estate, and is the largest known villa in the area. Its history spans the period from the Iron Age, about 800 BC to 100 AD, to the 5th century AD. Next stop was Cranbourn where had lunch in a charming pub called the Sheaf of Arrows with good food and friendly staff. They watched my bike and backpack while I took a little break and visited the local church. St Mary’s and St Bartholomew which was once a monastery until Henry the VIII came along.

Harder riding to come then the commencing of a sore butt and ending at a lovey camp site which I had all to myself. I arrived at Wilksworth Farm Caravan Park around 4:30 PM and was warmly greeted. After checking for the first time in all the time coming to England this is the first with and electricity at my pitch. The clerk even gave me a cord to use. Set up and ready for dinner I pop down to the store to see if they have a roll or two. The helpful lady was sorry she had on frozen bread available. They she say’s “Here I’ve just been shopping you can have one of ours, my husband won’t miss it.” We have a good laugh after I ask if her husband will come looking for me and his roll. After a dinner of vegetarian beans on toast and a salad it’s time for some sleep.

I’m up and off reaching Wimborne where I stop to take a picture from a bridge. A fellow comes along and tells me how a month ago the whole area I’m looking at was under water from flooding. We talk a bit about where we are from and where I’m headed. He tells me of a bike walking path, Castleman Trailway, created from an old RR line long gone. It is a lovely ride right to Poole. It is a nice level ride, thankfully, no hills. Up on reaching Poole I head to the RR station expecting to catch the next train to Exeter and south. I find out, again, that I don’t know the English train system as well as I thought. In order to get to Adelia’s town I have to make five changes and it will be a 5 hour ride taking me back to Salisbury. I get a text from Adelia wanting to know when she can expect me. I’m on my way back to Salisbury, disheartened that I had not planned things better, where I call Adelia and explain my plight. We have a laugh and make plans for me to head, via the correct train to her with no restrictions on the amount of time I have to get there or leave.

I arrive at the Salisbury Caravan and Camping Club with Wendy waiting for me at the door step. After the usual warm welcome she escorts me to the Arizona Corner or the Carl and Mark Corner. We chat on the way about family and travels. Nigel is off flying so will not get to see him until later. After setting up camp it is time to head into town for some provisions and dinner at you guessed it; The Kings Head. Up no my return I find two fellows from Italy set up near me. I have a talk with one of them about the equipment we have. He does not speak English and I do not speak Italian, but we have a conversation anyway. I’m always amazed at how, no matter the language barrier, we find a way to communicate and laugh. What a shame that our world leaders can do that.

Dublin to Salisbury

2014-05-15T06:52:00.000-07:00

Thursday, May 15, 2014, 5:44 AM Arizona, 1:44 PM England

I am currently at my favorite pub the Kings Head in downtown Salisbury having arrived this morning at 12:30 AM after, practically, a non-stop trip from Phoenix. The ferry trip to Holyhead was very relaxing and gave me time to nap, nosh, and writes a bit. However, after arriving at Holyhead it was anything but relaxing. Retrieved my bag from the ferry and headed to the train station which is attached to the ferry terminal. The train was already there so quickly trotted to it then sat there for ten before we were off. I keep thinking there has got to be a faster way to get to Salisbury and ask the conductor who does not know. We are traveling through the Wales then down into the England watching the beautiful country side slid by. Just an aside I’m watching an older gent across from me eating lunch which consists of Curry, a beer and a glass of wine. So my travel will take me across half of England in order to get from Holyhead to Salisbury. We reach Shrewsbury where I again ask the conductor if there is a better connection.

He tells me to ask again when I reach Birmingham which will be a train change to start heading south. At Birmingham I ask the conductor and he looks at his little time table. I ask if it isn’t faster to head to Southampton Central rather than Bristol Temple Mead. I have in my head that all trains gong to Southampton Central go through Salisbury, from the north, first. He agrees with me and tells me to wait for the next SC train in ½ an hour. My train for BTM leaves and I call the YHA while waiting. There is a fellow there who is going to wait for me as I’ll arrive after the desk closes. I explain that I think I’ll get there a bit earlier then I told him; we are both happy.

As the train pulls into the station the stations it will go through are announces; Salisbury is not one of them. I ask the train conductor if this train will get me to Salisbury. He say’s “We’ll get you to Salisbury Mate,” and off we go. I have this sinking feeling I’ve made a grievous error. As we travel along I make my way to the front of the train where the train manager hangs out. I tell him I was told this train would get me to Salisbury. He taps away on his little machine and prints out an itinerary. I have to change trains at Blazing Stoke which will get me to Salisbury at 12:33 AM. Had I stayed followed the original time table I’d have been there at 11:33 PM. My confidence is waning “If I were not along this would not have happened.”

We arrive at Blazing Stoke where I’ll wait for the train to Salisbury. I enter the waiting room and instantly I recognize the place and another mess up pops into my head. I think it was about four years ago I had to make a train change here for Salisbury also. I had put my back pack on the luggage rack, which I had never done before, and found a seat. When I left the train, not paying attention, the back pack remained. I leisurely made a call to my mother and as we were hanging up I realized there was no back pack on my back. This particular station as a fellow how monitors trains on a large desk. In a tizzy I tell him my plight. About twenty minutes later he tells me they found it. I can retrieve it at the Southampton Central station. I was to arrive in Salisbury at 9:30 PM and I’ll now arrive at, oh guess what time? 12:30 AM. I call the YHA again and tell the fellow waiting for me to go to bed I’ll pitch my tent when I get there. The train to Salisbury pulls in and off I go arriving at 1:00 AM.

I grab a cab to the YHA find a patch of ground and begin to put my tent together. There are other campers here and I’m trying to be very quiet. However, there is this motion activated light that is now flashing on and off every time I move. Oh wait not one but two are not blinking at me. The fellow in a tent near mind gets up and tells me the lights are flashing…NO Shit think I, but I smile and apologize. I settle in to my sleeping bag and look at my watch it is 2:00 AM. I left my son’s house in Phoenix at 6:30 AM on Tuesday. I have been on planes, trains and automobiles, and let’s not forget buses and ferries for 44 hours. H

Canada to Dublin

2014-05-15T06:50:00.002-07:00

Wednesday, May 14, 2014, 1:17 AM Phoenix time

One hour to landing in Ireland then a long day of travel to reach Salisbury. So Air Canada has managed to hit strike three being poor service, bad food and no in-flight entertainment. I settle in to my extra leg room seat which is facing a bulk head. I search the walls and ceilings for monitors for in-flight entertainment and find none. Shortly after takeoff “dinner” is served and I’m asked if I would like pasta or chicken. I say pasta thinking spaghetti in sauce but receive noodles with meat. I ask for my complementary wine that every airline I've been on serves. However, not Air Canada they charge $12.00 for a plastic glass of wine. I’m considering looking for another airline to get home on as this is the worst experience I've had flying in ever. I cannot wait to get off this plane and away from Air Canada. I have checked my email and still have not received the promised discount code the service center supervisor said would be sent. This is fine my me as I have no intention of ever setting foot on another Air Canada flight.

Upon arrival at Dublin I’ll take a bus to the Irish Ferry terminal. From there I’ll travel to Holyhead via ferry, then train to Salisbury. The expected time of arrival there is 11 PM which should give me enough time to get to the YHA and check in for the night. That is if all goes well. If not I’ll pitch my tent stretch out and go to sleep. I did this route last year with Mark and enjoyed both rides which gave me time to relax and collect my thoughts. There are always tables to sit at on the ferry with electric connections. I can’t remember if the ferry had Wi-Fi last year. However, the terminal did so I should be able to connect with the family. My ticket on the train should give me seat at a table also. Some of the trains in the U.K. now have electric outlets by the tables and some have Wi-Fi.

Out of the airport looked for a bus to get to the Irish Ferry port. Everyone I ask looks at me as if I were asking them how to get to the moon. Last year Mark and I traveled to the port and back from city center so that’s where I head. Bus drives past the ferry port, then past the city center, I get off the bus and head to a central bus stop. Guy there tells me I have to walk couple of blocks toward the Spire and get bus 53. This is not what we did last year, screw it I hail a cab. Nice chat with David, the driver, as we head back the way I just came. Just another adventure! Checking in at the Ferry Port goes smoothly with time for a cup of coffee. We’re off a very smooth crossing which allows me to nap a bit, read a bit and we’re in Holyhead. Off the ferry on to the waiting train which will whisk me to Salisbury. Well maybe not whisk as it will be almost a seven hour train ride. I’m back in the U.K. for the ninth year kind of melancholy experience traveling alone again.

2014 Travels start...

2014-05-15T06:48:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, May 13, 2014, 11:33:15 AM Phoenix time

I just left Phoenix on Air Canada heading to Toronto. So far my experience with Air Canada has been a negative one. I booked my flight to Dublin with them due to price which was $733.00 round trip from Phoenix. Only drawback was the return trip would be 30 hours which for the price I can live with. About a week before the flight I get notification of a flight change. I was supposed to get back to Phoenix at around 10 PM, now I would not arrive until after midnight. My flight was supposed to leave Dublin at 9 AM and will not leave until Noon. I called the airline to see if there was something they could do to get me home earlier. Spoke to a representative who seemed friendly enough explained my situation and asked if there were any other flights. After a bit she said there were other flights however, they would all require a stay over in the connecting city.

I then asked if there were any upgrades available due to the inconvenience. She informed me that Air Canada does not offer upgrades for schedule changes. So that was that I said good bye and as I’m putting down the phone I hear her saying, she must have thought the phone has hung up, “Jesus Christ it’s a fucking schedule change what does he…” I call back and speak to another reprehensive and report what happened requesting to speak to a supervisor. “We don’t transfer to supervisors you’ll be put in a queue for one to call you back. It may take up to 48 hours. Do you wish to be put in a queue?” I respond affirmatively and we hang up. It takes about four times playing phone tag to speak to a supervisor. She apologizes that this happened and asked me some questions. She tell me she is going to have stern talk with the representative. Again I ask if there is an upgrade available due to the schedule change and representatives behavior. She tells me there is not upgrade available but, she will email me a code that will give in a discount on any flight and it will be good for a year. To date no promo code has shown up in my email. Needless to say I’ll think twice about ever using Air Canada again.

While standing on line to clear security a wheel chair with a woman and dog is brought into the line. The dog was one of those small yappy types and had made itself known long before they arrived. Everyone on line had strained their neck to see what was coming. The dog yapped incessantly while the woman cleared security, then all the way to the gate and guess who’s gate the woman ended up at? If you guessed mine you would be correct. I approached the desk and asked if I would have to listen to that all the way to Toronto? Three agents looked at each other smiled and gave me no answer. One shrugged his shoulders looking helpless as if they had never been in this situation before nor knew what to do. Another passenger said to me “they just gave it a tranquilizer so all should be well.” Strike two for Air Canada. I’ve not heard a yap since boarding. There is so little room between the seats that you cannot even open a magazine without reclining the seat back. Only three hours left till we land hopefully things will improve. I arrived in Toronto without incident at around 5 PM my flight to Dublin does not leave until 10 PM. Flight was O.K., a little rough, $6.00 for some kind of wrap, all in all your basic flight.

The airport has a very large section for charging you electronics along with free iPod use. I was able to access my Gmail account and let everyone know arrived safely. However, can to connect to the internet with phone or net book weird. Currently taking sometime to charge my computer and phone then off to get some dinner at what looks like some pretty upscale restaurants. I’m in the international terminal lots of high end shops to spend your money in. Lots of people dressed up for travel which I've not seen in a long time.

I first started going to England in 2006 and traveled alone and did so for the next two years. For the next three years my friend Mark and I traveled together for part of the time spent there. Two years ago I traveled with friend Lisa for almost the whole time I was over there. Last year Mark and I traveled together again and after he left I traveled with my daughter. This year I my daughter will meet me in July, but I’m traveling alone again and it seems weird. I realize that traveling with Mark took some of the stress off me in terms of decision making. This also happened with Lisa when we traveled Spain because she spoke Spanish and I did not. I found myself thinking I have no one this year to keep me on track. So it seems I’ve lost some of the confidence I had when I first traveled alone.

Pilgrimage with Simon Reeve episode1 BBC full documentary 2013 greatest...

2013-12-10T22:03:00.001-07:00

Salisbury International Arts Festival

2013-05-27T12:16:00.002-07:00

Sunday, May 26, 2013

11:46 AM Arizona, 7:48 PM England

Back to the theme thing I was taking about in an earlier post. The theme is still evolving and I think it will be multilevel. Things change on a daily basis as to what I’m going to be doing the rest of the trip. Arrangements have been made which does not allow for a joint trip to Canterbury. So I can do the ride alone or go via train thus arriving in Spain earlier than I expected to. Then my daughter may want to join me in Spain which again changes the time table. This may have something to do with discerning the difference between doing things to my time table or adjusting to others. When and how often do you make allowances for others? I met a couple at the Salisbury Museum this morning who invited me to coffee. Virginia said “Always like talking to people from other countries.” So I sat down with Harold and Virginia to chat about our travels. We spent about half hour talking and Harold said “It’s important to travel with someone who is compatible, makes everything nicer.” Well it certainly does!

Today is my second day of Stewarding at the Festival. Yesterday prior to starting my shift Mark and I wandered through the different free events. We watched a show that had performers swinging and dancing in a cage, than another where performers bounced on a trampoline and wrestled with a carpet we could not figure out was that was about. Than it was time to “go to work” and I was assigned to the Rag and Bone Yard where the performers rode on contraptions covered with junk. I ended with them fighting a junk dragon all very symbolic. The Cathedral Close was the area this opening was staged in. The majority of the acts presented were free. I was then assigned to wander around and “be a presents” for the crowd. Prior to my wandering I was reunited with Anne, a member of the Festival team, with a big hug. I met Anne when I first started coming to England eight years ago. She is a charming young lady who has always welcomed me with her beautiful smile.

Later in the evening Liz, who use to work for the YHA, came up and I received yet another wonderful hug and greeting. We have known each other for about five years now and meet annually at the Festival. She left the YHA a few years ago to teach and get married. I thought I would never see her again but, here we are. She married a very nice chap named Greg and she is now pregnant. After Liz and I chatted for a bit she left we to wandered some more. I was a very happy camper having been greeted by two longtime friends, then Greg came up and greeted to me. It was a pleasuer to see him again after meeting him for the first time last year. He was gracious and invited me to call when I returned to Salisbury so we could have dinner, than offered me their spare room to sleep in when I return from Spain. I am very grateful for all the friends I've

made here in Salisbury over the years. Every year new ones are added which makes me feel very blessed.

As the sun slowly set the tempter began to cool and I, already dealing with a bit of a head cold, thought it prudent to head back to my tent just as the fireworks started. I was able to watch them in my rear-view mirrors as I rode away. As I came closer to the campground I heard quite loud music from somewhere ahead of me. It seems there was quite a party going on somewhere passed the campground and the acoustics made it sound as if it were right next to us.

Today my shift was from 2 pm to 4 pm so I spent most of the morning, which was cool and cloudy, in Starbucks. By the time I went to “work” the sun was out and it had become quite a nice day. I was assigned to guard a musical sculpture in the Close. There were about 10 of these spread over the Close grounds humming, drumming, clanging, and whistling. I could see the piece of art I was guarding in my friend Jill’s Art store. It was really a very soothing piece that was made to sound like river rushes in the wind. I could see it in my garden if I had one. After my shift we when to dinner and I was able to speak to my daughter, son and some of the grand-kids. It was Rebecca’s, my youngest granddaughter, birthday. Happy Birthday Rebecca!

2013-05-26T11:25:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

1:40 PM Arizona, 9:40 PM Devizes UK

So the thing is that there always seems to be a theme that pops up about these journeys. Sometimes it takes a while for them to appear and other times they become apparent quite quickly. Today on my ride back to the campground I decided to stop and sit at a bench along the canal. I chose this particular bench because on the ride in this morning there was a young woman sitting there with earphone wires disappearing into here auburn hair. As I rode up she had the most amazing smile as if she were very glad to see me. I said good morning as did she and I rode on. Sitting on the bench later felt remorseful that I had not stopped and talked to her. As I sat there this evening a puppy belonging to a young woman bounded over to me. The young lady followed and we struck up a conversation. Her name was Nicole and the pups name was Murphy who was four months old. Within a few minutes we exchanged quite a lot of information about ourselves and families.

She was from Robin Hood country and her partner was in the military currently based in the Falkland’s. It was nice to just chat with no agenda involved. It is a shame that all conversations cannot take on that kind of openness. But, for some reason some conversations which would be productive don’t happen or happen too late to be of any use. Like the conversation about feelings for another person seem to be the most difficult. Often it is made difficult by whatever reasons that the mind builds up that it would not be a good thing to do. How many times have I not stopped and had the conversation I wanted to only to regret it later? How many times have I not had a conversation because my head has rationalized it would make no sense to have it? Sadly, reflecting on that thought, far too often, far, far too often. Then when brave enough to speak my truth it is far too late.

This is probably the fourth time I’ve been to Devizes usually just for an overnight stay then on to Bath in the morning. This time I decided that I’d like to spend a day here just to look around. The days are still a bit chilly not getting much over 55 degrees. The sky continues to be over cast with gray clouds through which the sun peaks but not often. The Kennet – Avon Canal here is a master piece of engineering. There are 29 closely placed locks built in the 1800’s that once moved goods to and from markets. Now it is used mostly by pleaser boaters who travel or live on the canal. The boats are handsomely decorated with vibrant colors, plants and pottery. Some of the old canal barges were turned into pleasure boats, but now they are built from scratch from to the owners likes. I always thought my brother in law Vic would like to take one down the canal. They putter along at about three miles an hour just enough to give it some maneuverability. Since the canal is a fairly straight affair with a few long turns the boats don’t need to be that maneuverable.

There is a Norman church here built in 1130 by the same bishop that built the cathedral in Salisbury that I love so. It still has three sections of walls that are from the original church. The church was locked and I asked some ladies raking up cut grass from between the grave stones when it would be open. A key was fetched and I was allowed in for a look about. When I left there was a fellow, who sounded Irish, out front practicing his juggling. I've walked around town, had some lunch at the local Wetherspoons, purchased a tire pump for my bike, and found some sweet peppers for snacks. Mark comes out from Wetherspoons, where he has sequestered himself for most of the day, to walk around the town. We decide to have dinner the as Mark does not want to cook at the campground. I head back to the campground alone as I’ve had enough screaming kids for one day.

Mark catches up to me and we ride the canal back to the campground. I explain to Mark that I want to head back to Salisbury and not continue on to Bath. I show him the route back, different from the one we used to get here He is not enthusiastic about it and wants to ride the canal to the next town then take a train back to Salisbury. I would prefer to ride as I need to get in shape if I’m to ride in Spain. We go separated ways.

More Dublin

2013-05-25T04:11:00.001-07:00

Saturday, May 18, 2013

1:17 PM Arizona, 9:17 PM England

Last I wrote was on Saturday May 11^th from Dublin. I am now in Salisbury, England at the YHA where I will stay for two days.

Recapping the last seven days is a bit like trying to remember a particularly good dream after waking up. The bits and pieces swim through my mind but it is hard to make a whole of the parts. So rather than day by day I’ll just hit some highlights. The first highlight was that my bag was delivered to the hostel the day after we arrived. The hostel where we stayed was called the “The Times” and our rooms were on the top floor, which mean lugging suitcases up three flights of stairs. The room had 10 beds with metal baskets underneath to store stuff, one bathroom, and was as mix of men and woman. We would find out that the baskets sounded like a cat fight when pulled open. We did not use ours but, it seemed everyone else did especially in the middle of the night. The only bed left when we arrived was the one right in front of the bathroom. Some genius put the switch for the light outside the bathroom. In order to use the bathroom one would turn the switch on then go in and shut the door. Of course the same was true upon exiting. Our bed was lit up every time someone would enter or exit. Sleeping became somewhat of a chore, but I managed without too much grumbling.

The common room/kitchen was on the second floor was a multi-windowed long narrow room. This was the meeting place for all who were in residence there. Most of the seats were indented from years of butts sitting in them and quite uncomfortable. I spend one night in this room talking to Conny until 2 am solving the worlds and ours problems. Several times I had to ask for the radio or T.V. to be turned down due to their being quite loud. Many of the students staying here were from Italy attending a local academy to learn English. Two of them make dinner one night for everyone which included a new group of about twenty. Managed to get a bowl of pasta which went well with the Spanish wine from Leon I have purchased.

We went for a tour of Trinity College which is the oldest in Ireland. I claim to fame is the Book of Kill’s which is held in the old library. The Book of Kells is celebrated for its lavish decoration. The manuscript contains the four Gospels in Latin based on a Vulgate text, written on vellum (prepared calfskin), in a bold and expert version of the script known as "insular majuscule". The place of origin of the Book of Kells is generally attributed to the scriptorium of the monastery founded around 561 by St Colum Cille on Iona, an island off the west coast of Scotland. In 806, following a Viking raid on the island which left 68 of the community dead, the Columban monks took refuge in a new monastery at Kells, County Meath. It must have been close to the year 800 that the Book of Kells was written, although there is no way of knowing if the book was produced wholly at Iona or at Kells, or partially at each location.

Earlier I took the tram service which is called LUAS from one end of Dublin to the other and back. It was a pleasant relaxing ride. I got off at one of the stops which allowed me to visit the Kilmainham Gaol (Jail) is one of the largest unoccupied gaols in Europe, it was involved in some of the most heroic and tragic events in Ireland's history and its emergence as a modern nation from 1780s to the 1920s. When it was built in 1796 and was open over the 128 years it served as a prison, its cells held many of the most famous people involved in the campaign for Irish independence. The British imprisoned and executed the leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising here including Padraig Pearse, Joseph Plunkett and Thomas Clarke. Children were sometimes arrested for petty theft and held in the prison, the youngest said to be a seven year-old boy. Many of the adult prisoners were eventually deported to Australia after their stay. Men, women and children were imprisoned together, up to 5 in each cell, often with only a single candle for light and heat. Most of their time was spent in the cold and the dark as each candle had to last the prisoner for two weeks. At Kilmainham women were held in particularly poor conditions considering it was an age that prided itself on a protective attitude for the 'weaker sex'. As early as his 1809 report the Inspector had observed that male prisoners were supplied with iron bedsteads while females 'lay on straw on the flags in the cells and common halls.' Fifty years later there was little improvement. The women's section, located in the west wing, remained overcrowded.

After that uplifting experience it was time to some of the pubs to hear Irish music. The pubs were packed and the music was great however many players felt the need to stop playing Irish music and bring on American tunes. There was a lot of hand clapping, fiddle playing and load singing even if you did not know the words to the song. All in all it was a fun night of Pub Crawling” but was home by 10 pm. Conny and I again engaged in conversation but did not stay up until 2 am again.

The day before we left Mark wanted to go on a bus day tour out into the country. It was a very nice tour over the Boggs, Guinness estate, wool cloth manufacturing plan from the 1700’s still in operation, and a nice lunch at a small local pub. John, out tour guide bus drive kept us entertained with song and story throughout the ride. We were back in Dublin by 5 pm and had dinner at the hostel after making sure we were packed and ready to go. We would need to be at the bus stop by 6:45 am.

Dublin

2013-05-18T12:53:00.004-07:00

Saturday, May 11, 2013 Dublin

The sun rise was beautiful and its rays danced on the wing outside my window. The ground could not be seen as it was covered with pure white clouds. As we descended through the clouds the clouds turned gray, rain streamed off the wing, and Ireland when it came into view was a drab green. As we approached the captain reported the temperature was 44 degrees on the ground and I’m in shorts. It was 7:35 this morning when we arrived at the gate. I now had two things to do, one was find my bag and the other was to find Mark. He was supposed to get here before me but as the faiths would have it that is not the case. Since the plane I arrived on was not the plane that my bag would have been on I needed to find out where it was. We whizzed through customs and I get a chuckle at being asked yet again “You really like the UK don’t you?” “Yes I do…love it.” “Have a great stay!” and I’m off looking for the customer service office.

After wandering about a bit I come upon it then get into line. I’m behind a young couple that appears to be completely bewildered and seem to believe there luggage has not arrived with them. The young man announces from the carousel that he has found their bags. The young lady begins to move toward him with a look of non-belief on her face. Her face seems to be saying that he was not capable of identifying and gathering their luggage. “How can we help?” and I explain the situation of late planes, changed plans and arriving early. He makes a call then tells me my bag is in Chicago and will be here tomorrow. Then he wants to know where I’d like it delivered? I happen to have the address where Mark made the reservations for out stay in Dublin. O.K. one problem solved, except I have no change of clothes until tomorrow, but what the hell. Now it is time to find Mark.

Two hours later Mark comes through the door into the waiting area. I’ve watched many reunions during that time. Now it’s time to venture outside hunt down a bus and head to our digs for the next six days. It is a gray day outside the winds is blowing the rain around and people are bundled walking slanted into it. After a short bus ride we find out accommodations which, if the bus driver had not told me where to look, we would have passed right by. Oops too early to check in lets walk around town a bit. Sun comes out, goes away, rain comes down in buckets, goes away, repeat. We duck in to doorways to get out of the rain along with most everyone else on the street. Lots of small streets with little shops, the restaurants have, mostly girls, standing outside wanting you to look at their menus. We stop at Starbucks for some Wi-Fi connection and coffee. Then we head back to the Hostel for directions to the train station and the Ferry Port.

At the train station we purchase tickets for our ride to Salisbury. I’ll finally get to see, however briefly, Holyhead the last holdout of the Druids again the Roman army. I spend time at the Hostel while Mark goes in search of a phone store to buy a chip. While on the internet three young ladies, who I later find out, are scientists in the making, join me. They are from Bath, UK, Germany, Northern Ireland and all are working on their PhD’s who will soon be scientists. We spent the evening talking until it is time for them to head out to party. It is time to get some rest wondering what tomorrow will bring.

Life Is A Journey Not A Destination

2013-05-11T10:53:00.001-07:00

5/10/2013 11:25 am Life Is A Journey Not A Destination

So I’m supposed to have been in the air ten minutes now however I’m not. According to the airline Chicago will not let them take off and we will not take off until Noon. This means I arrive in Chicago just about the time my plan to England takes off. The lady at the counter gives me and assuring look and tells me it will be delayed also. And so my adventure begins with breakfast at an airport restaurant that cannot make toast and has nothing on the menu that does not contain meat. Now I have to wait until I get to Chicago to see if there is a connecting flight. “They will take good care of you if miss your flight.” I don’t want to be taken care of I want to get to England. I’m having a Stella! Oh my God someone who resembles Lucy Lu just walked in. Looking at her takes my mind of Plane delays for a bit anyhow.

Everyone wants to know what my itinerary is this year. Well I’m going to Dublin, hopefully at some point, then on to Salisbury. I’ll be a steward at the Salisbury International Arts Festival again this year before heading off to points unknown. Those points way include France, Spain, Austria or none of the above. I just don’t know at this point what I want to do. I’ve been thinking about doing a bike ride from Salisbury to Canterbury which would be about a five day ride. It would go to Winchester, the original seat of power in England before moving to London. Then riding through green rolling hills, small towns, and narrow back roads accompanied by the signing birds and most likely some rain. Along this route is Pocahontas’s grave, a castles and of course pubs.

My newest position at the college is teaching a cognitive restructuring course at the Coconino County Jail. The last thing we discussed was “Life is a Journey not a Destination.” I think that I’m going to incorporated this into the course in order to get the participants to look at the bigger picture. My friend Gary and I have talked quite a bit about missing what is happening around you by being focused on, or waiting for something down the road to make us happy or give us a better life. That’s the destination and while doing that we miss out on all the things that could offer so much if we paid attention. Recently I suggested a possible side trip of a steam train ride up a mountain to the town on top to a fellow traveler. The response was “what is there?” It was not about what is there it is about all the wonders along the way.

That being the case I don’t want to get lost in the destination. For me this means returning to my original model of picking out an end point then enjoying the route whatever that maybe to get there. Once there it will be time to look around at a place I’ve never been and enjoying the end point as part of the journey. Or if it is a place I’ve been before look around to see what I did not the last time there. Now that being said I’m going to “lose the attitude old man” and enjoy the journey. I have a nice seatmate; a fairly nice ride and will arrived in Chicago approximately and hour late. My connection to Heathrow may or may not have left that remains to be seen. Not sure when, how or if I’ll arrived in Europe this year and the journey sure will be interesting. I am so use to getting on the plane making my connections and getting off in England that I’m spoiled. We are heading down in to Chicago more later.

After leaving the plane I’m informed that the plane to Heathrow is at gate K12. Off I go down the concourse to find my gate and hopefully there will be a plane waiting. On the way I glance at the flight board and notice there is a plane a gate K6 bound for Dublin which is currently boarding. As I walk past gate K6 I see that all are boarding and there is a last call. I stop and walk back to the counter and ask the attendant if I could ask a “stupid question?” I explain show him my boarding passes and he says “that plane is already left. We’ll put you on this one.” This is a direct flight to Dublin with no need to stop at Heathrow and change planes. No extra money just here’s your boarding pass on you go. I’m the last one to board the plane and low and behold I have two seats all to myself.

Dinner and two wines later it’s time to get some rest. I’m a happy camper God has taught me yet again to just trust. Stop trying to control and trust that all will be taken care of. More tomorrow in Dublin which is boasting a high of 44.

A Day I'll Never Forget

2012-06-02T21:56:00.000-07:00

Saturday, June 02, 2012

2:26 PM Arizona, 11:26 PM Spain

A most wonderful day! Today I was determined to get up and make sure I had a seat for the mass that the cathedral because it was the day the “Botafumeiro” will be used. I’m very sad that Lisa will not be there with me and I’m really missing her presents beside me now. After arriving at the cathedral, around 7:30 AM, it’s time to scope out the best seat and make it mine. It is chilly in here but, that’s O.K. I’m not moving from this seat at least that’s what I thought. Eight thirty rolls around, It’s cold and now have to pee but, I’m not moving. So I’ll risk running to a local bar, yes they are open early on Sunday morning, buy a cup of coffee and relieve myself. I’m back in the cathedral with only a few others were there with me not the throngs I’d expected. The waiting gives me time to contemplate some of what has happened since we started the Camino.

From the start I became more aware of my surrounding and the people in them like watching a movie of us from above. I see Lisa and me moving through the world and interacting with our surroundings. There seems to be a guiding hand moving us along and toward certain people. Riding the bike, then walking, then using the bus, then walking again all had some reason for happening when it did. We are really very tolerant of each other, putting all judgments away, our spirits enjoying the presents of the other. We are able to walk for miles either talking or not, taking pictures of the same things because we both find them interesting. We are able to talk intimately about our lives, making observations with no need to get into an argument over every statement. Feeling the same things at the same time and knowing by just looking at each other. I can’t count the number of time we just looked at each other and started laughing, just knowing. It seems that each person met along the way had something to teach us together and individually. Each had advice, or a story to share about their lives that would touch ours.

It is now around 11:30 AM mass will start in another half hour. I sit on a wooden pew with tears in my eyes. The mass would not start until Noon and this spot would be mine when the cathedral filled. My camera us ready having been fully charged the night before. From time to time I’d lift my head leaving a wet warm spot where my chin had rested on my chest. There were dark spots on my shirt from tears that ran down my face. I wiped at them with a hand that had already been dampened by those already shed. Looking about this ancient fortress of God’s I though this is not the way it was supposed to end. But, this was how it was ending no matter how many times I looked up to see if she was walking through the door across the transept from me. Of course I knew that only happened in the movies. There were no busses from Finisterre to get her here in time for Mass. Then the miracle happened I look up to see Lisa coming down the aisle with a huge smile on her face. I’m dumbfounded as we grab hold of each other with tears and smiles. At that moment there was no one else in the church but us hanging on to each other. She cared enough about me to put aside what she had planned. She said it was just not right for us not to finish the trip together. We watched Botafumeiro swing blessing all the pilgrims present enjoying this wonderful service together. I believe we were both happy in our hearts and spirits that the Camion worked this out.

Posted: 10/19/2014

The Long Lonely Ride

2012-06-01T21:49:00.000-07:00

Friday, June 1, 2012

After breakfast we are on the bus to Finisterre “the end of the world.” Lisa has indeed decided that she will stay there tonight while I return to Compostela to attend mass tomorrow then head back to Leon. I’m really disappointed that we will not be attending the mass together which to me is kind of like closure to the journey. After reaching town we again follow the Camion to the Cape which has become kind of an official end of the Camino. We get lost then find our way eventually reaching the rugged cost line which once marked the end of the known world. Pilgrims have left shoes and other personal items they have worn here to signify they had made the journey safely and it is over. Others will burn an item of clothing for the same reason. We did not have anything to burn or leave so we had a glass of wine and headed back to town.

This would be our last dinner together which was quite rushed as we were unsure of when the bus would leave. We are not saying much and I see a bus pull in so I go over to see if it will take me back to Compostela alone. It is and I run back to where Lisa is sitting grab my stuff trying hard not to cry hug her and head to the bus. The ride back to Compostela was one of the loneliest times of my life. I cried most of the way back trying to hide my emotions from the rest of the passengers. There was a bit of a laugh as I listened to a Mormon pilgrim telling some German fellow about his religion but that was short lived.

I cannot explain how lonely I was that night wandering the path Lisa and I had traveled to get back to the Albergue. I stopped in at the corner café and listened again as the local fellows began to sign. Tonight they seemed to sense and were singing sad songs not the gay ones of a night ago. Back in the Albergue with enough wine in me to insure sleep I laid down to sleep knowing Lisa was not in a bunk near me for the first time in a month. So very sad and so very lonely yet again.

Santiago de Compstela

2012-05-31T21:45:00.000-07:00

Thursday, May 31, 2012

I find it funny to wake up and find Lisa hidden underneath a mountain of blankets. There have been times I’ve looked really hard as I could not tell if she was in there, or had gotten up early and left. But, as I begin to stir she pokes her head out and I’m assured she is still there. We shower, dress and are on the road along with many other pilgrims. We walk a narrow road that we share with cars carrying folks off to their destinations. Some wave as they pass, others stare straight ahead deep in thoughts of their own. We come upon a campground called Camping San Marcos with a small café. We stop for some coffee along with a tostada watching pilgrims filing by. We use the facilities before heading down the path.

We reach the top of Monte del Gozo which was once just a green hill and chapel. But, because of the Pope’s visit in 1989 the top was leveled and a “Albergue” which can hold 3000 people army barrack like, there is a rather interesting sculpture which seem not to have a name but commemorates the Pope’s visit as well as St. Francis of Assisi’s and World Youth day. From here we look down into Santiago de Compostela and see the spires of the cathedral. I light a candle for us in the chapel before we had down to town. We come to the Albergue Santo Santiago secure our beds then it is off to the Cathedral de Compostela de Santiago. We are disappointed that there is a barrier about the pillar which holds the statue of St. James. There are five deep indentations on the pillar where over the century’s pilgrims hands have touched at the end of their journey.

We go to the pilgrim office to get our certificate of completion. We are hoping that the couple who picked up Lisa’s credential has dropped it off here. Lisa is again disappointed that they have not and she will not get her certificate of completion. I feel guilty that I have mine in hand and quickly put it away so as not to be a reminder. We wander around town running into many of those lives have touched us. Once more we run into Joseph and we are not like old friends joyous to see each other. We have dinner together then again wander the town making plans for tomorrow. We go to the bus station where I purchase a ticket to return to Leon and my bike. Wander around the neighborhood then back to the Albergue.

Down the street on the corner is a café in the Hotel San Lazare where we stop in to have some wine. There are a lot of locals there and the owner knows them all by name. It is fun to watch as she banters with the locals. Soon several of the gents there begin to sing Spanish songs for our entertainment as well as their own. We are having a great time an then realize that we’ll soon be locked out of our Albergue. This will soon be our local watering hole since it is close to the Albergue. The owner is friendly enough but we never learn her name and I wonder if the locals know it? We have purchased tickets to take a bus to Finisterre tomorrow. Lisa tells me she is thinking about staying there and hiking back to Compostela before she heads home. I was hoping we would attend mass together then head out. Seems that’s not to be.

Tomorrow Compostela

2012-05-30T21:39:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, May 30th, 2012

We get up early then after having homemade breakfast in the Albergue Monasterio de La Magdalena down we go to the bus terminal. The decision has been made to take the bus to Lavacolla then walk to Compostela which is only 7.5 km away. We head, yet again, to Logo where we will transfer to the bus that will take us to Lavacolla. Today we spend most to the day bussing through the Spanish state of Galicia. Most to the telephone poles, church steeples, chimneys we pass have a stork nest in them. We travel beside and new highway under construction but it seems to have not much in the way of constructing going on. Lisa is asleep in the seat ahead of me and after typing a bit I think I’ll dose off also.

I am half wake, half asleep looking out the window watching the country side slide by. I’m trying to make sense of this adventure and smile dreamily as pictures of Lisa and I having fun slowly play in my mind’s eye. A tear sneaks out as the thought of our journey ending soon comes to mind. Silly I think to myself. We work in the same office and will be hanging out together soon. But, what comes to mind is that I’ve had her to myself for almost three weeks now. She has been someone to share, laughter, sadness, life, and ideas with which I’ve not had in a very long time. Several times we have walked down the road holding hands with no need to speak. Just walking and enjoying the silence, scenery, fresh air, azure sky, and each other. From the time we joined in Paris to now I have been content. Not worried about the things in life that distract me from just enjoying being. Not being caught up in the things of the past, or allowing the worry about what tomorrow will bring to distract from this time together. I am happy.

The bus stops at a wide spot in the road and we, along with several other pilgrims, head toward the path the drive pointed to. We are back on the Camino de Santiago now heading towards Compostela. It is late, we are hungry and discuss that if we get into Compostela to late there may not be a bed to be had. We come up on a motel kind of place called Casa de Amancio smile and walk in. After paying for our room we relax in the court yard with a lady from Canada. We all have wine and are enjoying the breeze, sun and conversation. There is also a fellow from Germany who tells us more information about his sex life then we need to know. Lisa and I will be sharing a room again for the last time. I go for a walk while Lisa takes a nap before dinner. I find, what looks like, a broken walking stick on the side of the road. After playing with it for a few minutes it’s as good a new. I find beautiful park with a brook running through it and sun lite filtering through the trees. I sit on an old stone bench in this serene space again thinking on the journey.

I meet an old man whose mule is pulling a wagon filled with what looks like Kale. He sits and I go over to talk with him. We do not speak each other’s language but manage to have a short conversation. This is the first time I wish I could speak Spanish. He has live in this area for a long time and met a lot of pilgrims. I’m talking to walking history, but cannot understand much of what is said. We say “Buenos Noches” and I head in for dinner. Lisa and I enjoy dinner over another of our conversation about our lives, and then decide we do not have to rush tomorrow. We return to our room, she on the couch and I at the table doing some typing. She falls asleep so I pack up, wake her and we head off to our respective beds.

Buen Camino