Utah Hiking 2024

Instagram is awash with photos and videos of the odd landscapes and amazing views of Utah, so I had a strong desire to go there. I convinced my old friend, Joe Morehouse, to join me. We were both preoccipied with work and life but finally got around to planning it (well, I did, mostly), and it came off great. We had great weather in the second half of October and things were not very crowded or expensive.

Joe Morehouse is an Ophthalmologist in Duluth, Minnesota I met when we did our internships together at Malcolm Grow USAF Hospital on Andrews AFB. Maryland. We played quite a bit of golf when we could and had some crazy times in the hospital working our butts off. He is quite smart, one of the few people I know who scored higher than I did on the final medical licensing exam, and he stays in shape hiking, cycling, and cross country skiing. This was our first trip together, though I have visited his family in Duluth multiple times (but not recently). I was impressed with his fitness and hiking ability. After a bit tougher first day at altitude, he routinely walked faster than I did up and down the trails. I am not a fast hiker, but I can go for long times without stopping and handle the uphills well. Joe didn’t need many breaks, either, so we were a good team, with me usually following him, since he studied the trail maps, walked faster, took fewer photos, and preferred not to be in the line of fire of my frequent flatus.

Getting there: I flew into Las Vegas on a direct flight from Newark leaving Saturday morning at 10am. I got there a little after lunch and got our rental car. This was probably the worst moments of the trip. I got a small SUV from Thrifty. The guy gave me the usual hard sell, and while we were going through the booking, I realized Orbitz software garbled my name: Leonardo Terence. I told him about it and he said he fixed it in the system, and I went to get the car. I had to wait about 30 minutes in the garage for it to come in. It was a nice, new white Jeep. I was able to sit in the garage and set up the entertainment, get the mirros adjusted, and then went to the exit. There were two humans in the exit booth, and they did some things on a computer and told me I could not leave because my name did not match the name on the paperwork. I explained the issue and told them Thrifty told me to say it was all clear in the system. They did not agree and despite my protestations, I had to drive back in through a special way and go back insice. Of course, Thrifty was now closed. So, I went to their other partner’s desks, and there was the same bozo too lazy to fix it right the first time. He said he fixed it, but my name was still wrong on the paperwork. I was steaming, but I trusted him again. One of the people was still there when I went back out. I told her they said it was all set in the system, and she shook her head and opened the gate and let me out (I received about 6 emails and texts that day and the next about all sorts of problems with my contract as well….). I drove to a restaurant that came up on my google search for “vegan restaurants near me,” but it turns out it did not have a single VEGETARIAN item on the menu. I thought I ordered a wrap with some cheese, nuts and fruit, but it had chicken in it! Then I drove ot a nearby park and did a brisk 3 mile walk to get some exercise before Joe arrived. It was a nice day, not that warm, and the park had some good paths. I then went to pick up Joe at the designated spot for that terminal, and he arrived just as I was about to pull off and go back around. We then drove about 4 hours to the area near Bryce Canyon, stopping for a quick bite to eat at a Chipotle near the interstate in St. George. The hotel lobby at Bryce Canyon Pines was closed, but we got the keys and found it several buildings over.

Getting around: I did all the driving. 4 hours Saturday, maybe an hour Sunday in Bryce, about 3.5 hours Monday, 3 hrs Tuesday, Wednesday 5 hours , Thursday 2 hours and Friday close to 3 hours. The roads were pretty twisty, and there were extensive stretches of dirt roads on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Running: I was excited to see there was a paved cycle path off the road near our Bryce hotel. I got up Sunday and ran in the dark for 5 miles, and I noticed it seemed harder than it should be. I had not paid much attention to the altitude there, but it was 7700 feet! On Monday, after a long day of hiking at altitude Sunday, I did 4 miles in the other direction in cold weather I was not well prepared for (27deg F), and forgot my headlamp, so I ran by the light of the moon. Tuesday I did 5 miles in Escalante, which was only at 5700 feet, also in the dark. Not a nice place to run. Wednesday I did 5 miles in Kanab at 4900 feet (a bit better, but still in the dark). Thursday we left Kanab early for Zion and I took the day off. Friday I did 5 miles in La Verkin, where I looked for a trail but missed a turn and did a boring run in that town and the town of Hurricane. Saturday I again got up early to run in Las Vegas and did not like it at all, though I did 5 miles. I always value the experience of a run in a new place, but the running was not nice on this trip.

Food: We felt going in the dining would not be that great in the small towns and we were correct. Breakfast was terrible in Bryce, where we were told to go to a buffet on the way into the park that made me sad it was so pathetic. Everyone looked like they wanted to be anywhere else, the food was terrible, but at least it was quick. The next day we got some portable snacks and ate them before and during our morning drive. Dinner there at the hotel restaurant was crowded with a long wait, but the food was passable with vegetarian options. In Escalante, there was a good restaurant by the hotel, though it was super warm inside. Tuesday morning we got breakfast burritos at a shack that had the kitchen in an old bus behind it. It was pretty good and vegan. That night we had a very expensive but good meal in Kanab, and that hotel had a really nice breakfast buffet with several good cereals and at least almond milk. We ate at a different place Wednesday, only a little cheaper and still pretty good. Thursday the hotel had an Indian restaurant on site I thought was good. Their breakfast was not that great, and then the meal Friday night in Vegas was a big disappointment. I had hopes to gorge at a buffet, but there were none, so we at an Italian style place that only served family portions. I ate a whole pizza and Joe a whole plate of stuffed shells. We both passed on the $43 buffet in the morning and I scavenged a bagel and smoothie from a Starbucks.

Lodging: turns out this was a good time of year to go. We rarely paid much more than $100/night and had pretty nice rooms and beds. One place had a cottage with two king beds in separate rooms, where mine was in a kitchen and Joe’s had all the closets. The hotel room in Vegas was ok at the Excalibur.

Hiking/Parks: We really wanted to get into some slot canyons and were rewarded well. Every hike was great and the scenery spectacular. Bryce Canyon was my favorite. The rocks and paths were so unbelievable, and when the sun came out, it was off the charts spectacular. It was the chilliest day and the longest bit of hiking, around 16 miles, with lots of ups and downs. Capital Reef is not as well known, but it lies on the edge of a long escarpment. It has a famous area of fruit trees and a little house that sells fruit pies, called Giffords House. We got two pies each there before we started hiking, since they often sell out. We did a morning hike with a few small slot canyons and some long climbs. We each ate one of our pies at lunch. I got mixed berry and peach, Joe got cherry and pumpkin. After lunch we did a hike to the Hickman natural bridge, and then a long steady climb up and back along a scenic rock path. Tuesday we went to Kodachrome State Park, which was pretty awesome, with a big cave and nice paths and rocks, then to Grosvenor Arch on the way to the Grand Staircase of the Escalante for an exciting hike in long slot canyons and the drama of risking a longer trip to find a short cut that worked. The slot canyons on Wednesday in the region of Wire Pass were the best on the way to Buckskin Gulch. Then we did a quick side trip to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. At Zion, we did the river trail to where the hike to the Narrows begins, then went up past Angels Landing on to a high view point, and finished the day with a short hike near the visitor center. We were not able to get a permit for Angel’s Landing, but I heard it was not that bad. The next day we went to Konob Canyon and did a really nice hike up that to see an arch and back, with very few people around.

The galleries below go in order from Bryce Canyon - Capital Reef - Kodachrome - Grand Staircase - Grand Canyon - Zion -Zion Konob, Almost all of these photos are not in the video.

Funny/Weird Stories: The craziest - After going through security on the way back, I had to find the gate. It was in another terminal. I went to the bathroom and got some snacks and then headed down an escalator, and while going down, reached in my pocket to check my boarding pass for the gate number, THERE WAS NO BOARDING PASS! I knew I had it when I went through security, but now it was gone. I had to go back to security to see if it was there, BUT THERE WERE NO UP ESCALATORS!! I frantically went back and forth looking for an up escalator, but I could not find one. Then I saw some people get off the train and start walking to an elevator, so I took that up. I hustled back to security and asked the TSA agents at the exit area if anyone had my boarding pass. One of them pointed to a piece of paper on the floor by where everybody gets their stuff back out of the bins, and that was it!!! The rest, in no particular order: 1. Our first night in Kanab, we were walking to the restaurant and needed to cross the street. It was a small town and not much traffic. The light was green going forward, but the don’t walk sign was on. No one was going anywhere, so I said to go, and after walking about 10 feet in the crosswalk, the vehicle coming up behind us turned out to be a police car (what are the chances!?) that blew a quick siren and then announced we “DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY!” which of course we did, walking on a green light in a cross walk. 2. There were all kinds of people at Zion. The hike to Angel’s Landing is pretty hard with a steep series of switchbacks called “Walter’s Wiggles” right before the top. So, you would not expect just anyone to make it up. Yet, as we came back down from above it, we passed a chubby older man carrying only what looked like a big gulp cup with a straw in it, no other pack. Right after that, a doddery old woman, who looked to be in her 80s and was barely moving, stopped Joe to ask a question. It took a few tries to understand her, but she said she was looking for Angel’s Landing, widely regarded as one of the hardest and most dangerous hikes in the U.S.(!). Joe told her she had missed the turn and needed to go back down. She did not let us pass and instead walked so slowly in front of us it was infuriating. She also had no pack and only a 16 ounce thin plastic bottle of water that was about one quarter full. I told Joe my doctor’s recommendation would be to send her right down. We hoped the ranger there would deny her entrance, but later, we heard the ranger left in the afternoon. 3. On the drive to Capital Reef, we took back roads and saw 2 small groups of Pronghorn Antelope, an Elk, and Mule deer right along the road, the only wildlife we saw the whole time. 4. At Capital Reef, near the Giffords House, there was a small stream, maybe as wide as 10 feet in parts, with a fairly good flow of water in it from recent rains. I laughed when I read the sign: “Fremont RIVER!”I joked every time we crossed it that we were crossing the mighty Fremont. 5. Despite our altitudes most of the time, the showers had incredible water pressure almost everywhere. 6. On the hikes in the slot canyons off the dirt road, my water bladder was leaking in my Camelbakm getting my butt wet. I took it apart when we got back to the car and emptied it for the ride the rest of the way to Kanab, putting it in the back on the plastic bed. I ignored a dinging sound when I started up driving again, and we had gone about a mile when I noticed a warning on the dash the back lift gate was up! I had forgotten to close it! Joe got out and shut it, but there was dust from the road everywhere. 7. There was a rough dirt road to the Wire Passage trail, which was in the middle of nowhere, and I thought there would only be three cars there when we arrived. Instead, it had a huge parking lot that was nearly full! And a ranger on site, toilets and water supplies. The reason was it is a spectacular hike. 8. One of our goals was to see a dark sky at night. We kept putting it off, and finally tried in Kanab, but there was too much light everywhere. Still, the sky is beautiful there. 9. Both Joe and I are veterans, and I found out veterans are eligible (and rightly so!) for lifetime passes into the national parks. I got mine in advance and Joe already had his, but we only had to use them once, at Bryce Canyon, and the guy could not have cared less. At the Grand Canyon and Zion (either day!), there was no one at the gates, and we drove right through. At Capital Reef, there was construction, so there was no gate. The Grand Staircase was free, and I think we paid $10 to get into the Kodachrome (state park) lot. 10. After finding no one at the gate in Zion, we started in from the east. The road was again stunning, with huge, high rock faces, beautiful sunlight, and interesting terrain, BUT WE WERE THE ONLY CAR GOING THAT DIRECTION! It was so disconcerting. There were other cars coming out, but none going in. I was thinking we were doing something wrong, but I think few people go in that way. It is so beautiful a lot come out to see it at sunrise. 11. It is hard to recall anyone passing us on any hike, but especially at Zion, which was the most crowded. 12. Trying to find a space in the parking garage at the Excalibur, Joe and I went the wrong way through a long portion and were lucky to get out and find a spot. Some employees were along our route and simply stared at us like they couldn’t believe it was happening again.

Final thoughts: Southwest Utah is an otherworldly place, with supreme scenery and great hikes. I cannot recall such a consistently spectacular place to hike, topping even my recent jaw-dropping trip to the Dolomites. Joe was a great hiking companion who actually pushed me and got me to do more than I usually would. It was also a very reasonably priced trip (some of the meals were pretty expensive, but). I think I will go back to see some of the other cool spots and also go to Arches, Canyonlands and other spots near Moab.

The Dolomites in 2024: Off the Charts! With a bit of Venice

Inspiration: I am always looking for things to do, and my friend, Meltem, popped me a message while she was traveling about a 9 day hut to hut hike in the Dolomites, a region I hoped to hike at some point. I replied it was on my bucket list, a cliche I am not always in favor of using, but that 9 days was too many. We then settled on a 4 day hike with three nights in the huts, or Rifugios, and the timing was right with Labor Day weekend.

The Dolomites: This famously beautiful mountain range in northern Italy can be thought of as part of the southern Alps, but most people in the area consider it separate because the mountains are different. They are generally formed from a special type of rock named after a man called Dolomite, generally more of a beige color up close, with lots of pieces that bleach white and look like marble, as well as more of the traditional light gray. They top out around 10000 feet and are not able to sustain glaciers over the summer. The valleys are lush and green, and the area is beloved by outdoor sports enthusiasts all year round. It will be hosting the 2026 Winter Olympics, for what it is worth.

The Plan: With three nights in rifugios, that left several other days for adventure. I wanted to leave Friday and fly to Venice, a city I love (3rd visit), the closest city and airport to Cortina d’Ampezzo, the place where the hikes would start and finish. So, I would stay in Venice Saturday and Sunday, then take a bus to Cortina Monday, stay in a hotel there Monday night, start the hike Tuesday morning and return to the same hotel Friday afternoon, where I would leave a bag with my nonessentials. I would have to carry everything else with me. I would stay over there Friday and then leave for Venice again Saturday, for one more night before flying out in the morning. The trekking company MONT Trekking handled the plans really well. I found them by googling “Hut to Hut in Dolomites.”

Video Block

Double-click here to add a video by URL or embed code. Learn more

Drama: Usually a few things go wrong on my trips, and this was no exception. I was in good health after rehabbing a minor knee problem that took a while to settle and still bothered me a bit going down stairs. I did a flat 12 mile run the week before, so I was plenty fit for anything normal humans could do. It was my first trip with the plan to carry a regular back pack for several days. I worried especially about being able to take running stuff along, as I always plan to run every day on a trip, hiking or not. This worked out ok and I actually didn’t use a lot of my clothes, though I took a pair of barefoot running shoes I had never run in, and the sole was not tough enough for trails. I felt every rock, and my calves hurt after the first run (this was my biggest packing mistake, but Venice and the mountains are not the greatest places for anything more than short runs). The worst drama was missing the bus in the afternoon on Monday after waiting at the wrong point (there was almost no help available and little information from the Cortina Express bus. Their website does not work well for non-Italians and their directions are needlessly vague and not up to date. The airport has almost no information available, either). Even though I knew it had probably left, I ran to the stop with all my bags, about a 4 minute run and was drenched in sweat. I had to wait another 3 hours and then had to buy a new ticket after I was told by a service rep they would honor the old ticket since the bus was not full. They were wrong and the bus driver was mean. I made it up there just before 8pm and had only time to grab a quick meal. Finally, while I was trying to use my credit card to tap to pay for a bus ticket back to Venice from the airport, I needed some help. An agent came over and got me straight, but after I put my bag on the bus, I realized I did not have my wallet!! I lost my wallet (again!!). I ran around the bus and saw it by the ticket machine on the sidewalk (it had been less than a minute). I quickly got it, and it changed the tenor of my trip back to Venice from one of dread to one of happiness. I also left my Kindle at the breakfast table my last day in Cortina. I went to talk to the guy at the front desk (he has worked there most of this life and was there pretty much every day), and I noticed it sitting there. Would have been tragic to forget it.

Travel: The trip over was smooth. I left work early on Friday and was already packed. I had an easy drive to Newark and parked, got the shuttle, and got through security easily. Contrary to my British Airways flight to Scotland, United Airlines was a superstar!! We started boarding right on time and were ready to go early. The air conditioning worked, the seats were ok, I had a tiny person sitting next to me who kept her arms to herself, and I actually slept some on the flight. We got there early and everything went well from there. I was able to buy a return bus pass to Venice for 10E each way and the bus was not crowded. I got off in Piazzale Roma and had only a 6 minute walk over two bridges carrying my stuff. The hotel, a fantastic place called Hotel Avani Rio Novo Venice, let me check in early (around 10am), and I was able to go to my room, shower and change as well as get on some sunscreen, as it was a beautiful, sunny and hot day. The hotel had a great (but not free) breakfast, and a nice little gym in the basement. The room was small but lovely and comfortable. They also let me check out at 12pm on Monday so I could keep my luggage there and still go out sight-seeing Monday morning.

The return trip was from Ca’Zose boutique hotel, which was on the southeastern part of the city near the Guggenheim. It was a much longer walk. The room was very small, but nice. I did not spend much time there, but I walked to the bus stop Sunday morning carrying all my stuff and caught a bus quickly after buying a ticket. I had to wait in a queue for a while, but it went fine and was a bargain. The Venice Airport has no information (I am not exaggerating), with only signs for gates to check in. I wandered around and found the gates for US travel on the upstairs at the far end. One could only go in three hours before or less, so I waited a while and then everything was super smooth. I got a breakfast and that flight on United also boarded smoothly and early. I had a middle seat between a husband and wife. I watched The Fall Guy, a very funny movie, and Civil War, not so good. No problems at Newark and back in time for dinner and an early bedtime.

Running: I was in good shape, but the barefoot shoes gave me some calf soreness after running on the sidewalks and stones of Venice, so I had to take it real easy. I was able run a little over three miles Sunday and Monday, with a run to Piazza San Marco on Sunday early, and then past the train station and some wider walkways on the western side of the city Monday. We had to get up too early on Tuesday to run, but I did a 2.25 mile jog once we got to the first rifugio. I think we were just over 7100ft elevation at the rifugio, and the trails went down from there. On the way back it was quite steep and I walked part of a hill. The rocks were very rough on my feet. The other rifugios did not have good places to run, and it would have been hard to warm up, etc. I ran 4 miles in Cortina Saturday morning. I got bad muscle spasm in my right calf within a minute after starting, but I walked it off and was able to jog slowly on a path along the highway. Sunday I also had to get up too early while in Venice. So, 4 runs.

Pull-ups: NONE! I never saw anything that could have been used. I did pull-ups when I was in Rome (there is a memorable video on YouTube), so I did not need to add Italy to my list. I did work out in the hotel gym the first Sunday.

Weather: Venice was hot and muggy, a bit like Georgia. Rarely any clouds. Cortina was pretty on Monday evening and Tuesday morning. Each day on the hikes was lovely - light breezes, rare clouds, and we avoided any of the violent, torrential downpours that occurred in the late afternoons daily. Overall about as good as it could be.

The Food: I only had one disappointing meal. On the hikes I only ate vegan protein bars, and not that many. They were not long hikes and I usually had a hearty breakfast. Every breakfast had muesli and/or granola and some form of milk, occasionally soy. They also had assorted sweets and breads with jams, etc. When I was in Venice I usually had pasta, with Risotto once or twice, beetroot ravioli, red turnip ravioli (both great), various excellent veggie plates and tiramisu once, cheese cake a few times and always gelato on the walk home. During the day I stopped once for macarons and a cannoli. Italy is a foodie heaven, even for a close-to-vegan. Below, a baked goat cheese and artichoke dish, pasta with clams by the canal for a lunch, a big meal at a rifugio for lunch, a local specialty, sardines in pickled onions and veggies, and a gelato at a famous chain.

The Hiking: We met our guide, Gianlucas, in the hotel lobby. He was a bit early, but so were we. He was about 5’6”, thin, bearded, wearing a ball cap. He seemed nice and low key. From there we drove to another hotel and picked up Sebastian, a tall man of 37, originally from Romania, about to resume working in London in finance. He seemed a bit grumpy and sleepy, but he turned out to be an excellent hiker and a near non-stop talker. Next stop we had to wait a while for everyone else: Liz and Charlotte, a mother and daughter from the UK, and Lyndsie and Molly, friends from Washington St. University, with Lyndsie living in Seattle and Molly in Chicago. We had a fun drive out to the start, which was about an hour away.

DAY 1: We started at a parking lot near a lake. The lake was gorgeous, of course, and it closely resembled Lake Louise near Banff. We went counter-clockwise around it to the far end and began a steady and occasionally steep ascent where I believe we encountered some steel cables. The views were jaw-dropping, and I was skeptical when Gian said this was the worst day for scenery. We came out into a broad panorama and could tell the weather was stirring up. There ws a nice spot for photos and rest (as a rule, I almost never sit down once a hike starts. I don’t need rest and stopping does me no good, only tempts stiffening up. It was a nice break to take the heavy pack off from time to time when we did stop walking.). We walked down the hill to our first hut, which we discussed would be a quick stop due to the weather, but most people ordered drinks and sat at a table for a bit. The WCs there did not have toilets, just holes in the ground with places to squat. We had about 45 minutes or so to get to the rifugio, and when we set out it was with more purpose. The clouds were to our right and we began to hear thunder. I had separated from the main group and was walking by myself, a little behind some others, when a very loud CRACK of thunder came from right behind me! I jumped and shouted, “Jesus Christ!” and couldn’t help but run a few paces, taking inventory to make sure I was ok. I was. I hurried on and caught up with the leaders and then noticed, as the rifugio came into view, Gian and the rest had somehow caught up to us. It was beautiful there and did not rain at all, but we heard stories of a major soaking back near the other hut.

We were all interested in what the rifugio would be like. We were on what seemed to be the third floor, up a narrow stairway. There were 2-3 bathrooms in the hall and one had a free shower. The room was big with a few extra beds. I took the one next to the door as I thought I might have to get up during the night to pee, but it turned out many people needed to go out and I did not, so not a wise choice. I went for my run and took a shower. This was the chilliest place, and I had to bundle up to go out on the terrace to read and enjoy the views. The meal was fine, and then it was bed time. It was a LONG night. I did not sleep well at all, trying to maneuver in the sleeping bag liner and regulating my temperature.

DAY 2 - We got up early so we could leave early and beat the afternoon storms. This hike was likely the easiest one and the least scenic, but it was still beautiful and the weather was nice. We set out the way I ran and followed a gravel road down, then a narrow trail, then another road. We passed a farm and also an impressive road of switchbacks into the valley where a hut served as a refueling point. From there we started up again on a hard stretch, then it went down and back up to the area where our next rifugio was set (along with 3 others). We ate at a different one, and it was a beautiful, warm afternoon. We had planned to go to the rifugio, change and then go swimming in a pond/lake, but it was a pretty tough walk all the way there and back, so we went right to the lake, and it got cloudy and cold as we got to the road that reached the lake. It took me longer than everyone else to get into the water as I wanted to wear my sandals on the rocky shore, but there was never a doubt I was getting in, even though I had to do it in my underwear and reveal my penchant for male bikini briefs - they are the best for running!. The water was cold but not too bad. Not everyone got in. We put everything back together and hiked down to the rifugio, seeing the splendor of a view up the valley that was one of the best.

This rifugio was harder to decipher. We had a room with 8 beds, so a few had to sleep in top bunks (I was glad everyone seemed to think I was too old to get in the top bunk :-). Gianlucas also stayed with us that night. Several of the team went to sleep right away after the hike. I accidentally used one of the women’s bathrooms (the door was propped open and I didn’t see the female marking on it at the time). I went out to look around and relax, write and read, but it was hard to tell where I could sit. Lyndsie and Molly came by eventually and joined me and we had a fun conversation. I decided not to take a shower since I swam in the lake, so I had more time to look around. It was not a good place to run, so I passed. Dinner was good, in a back corner. After we ate, Gianlucas taught us to play an Italian version of rummy where the points were not what you put down but what was left in your hand after someone went out. I won the first hand but then did terrible and tied for last with Molly. Everyone seemed genuinely shocked by my modestly playful chatter. There was an employee playing the guitar and singing songs in English towards the end of our games.

DAY 3: It was another long night - I was a bit sleepy when I went to bed, but the room was dark from others going to bed early. it took me about 15 minutes of struggling to get the sleeping bag liner correct in the dark (I hit my head on a shelf at least once), and that started me off all wrong. I slept a bit better nearer the morning. This night I got up and went to the bathroom as I had to pass a lot of gas. We were a bit more organized and got going at a good time after nice breakfast. The hike went up the hill (not easy) to the lake we’d swum in. The views were not nearly as good in the early morning light. This was the best hike, so beautiful, again with some cows, a hike up and through a pass that was pretty hard, and then down the other side to another lake where we swam. From there it was another long climb, and Sebastian and I asked if we could go on ahead. It was harder and more sustained than the other climbs, but we reached the next rifugio on a cliff at just over 9000ft. It as an unusual landscape, harsh and with lots of the bleached white rocks.

The views were spectacular from the refugio deck, where I tried to get something to eat, but I failed for a long time until I finally ordered inside. I also wandered all over the place to find the room, which was right next to the restaurant but down stairs with a chain across. This place had big bathrooms, and the room was very small and a tight squeeze. Seb and I walked out to the cross and the views there were still fantastic. Such a pretty spot, and this was in the area where the Italian army fought agains the Austrians in WW1.

One of the famous downpours happened once we got back from the cross area, and it kept going through dinner. We could see the sad arrivals in their tarps and rain gear on the deck, and it was hard to see anything beyond the railings. It was the worst dinner of the trip - steamed broccoli, maybe some potatoes and just the burger from an impossible burger, no seasoning, roll or condiments. At least they had some gelato. I quickly got everything ready for bed, and then I went back up to play cards. I did not take a shower again since I had been swimming in a lake. It was the same game, this time with 7 players (fora a few hands), and it was just as fun. I won the first and last games and the overall title of “Card King.” This was my favorite: views were great, food so so, cards fun, but the best part was we did not have to sleep in the sleeping bag liner, so I finally could move around. I got a little more sleep. One message I got from this trip, to go along with my 5 day hike in Iceland from hut to hut, was how little sleep I need to function at least physically at a high level.

DAY 4: I got up early to try to catch the sunrise, but it was mostly behind a peak next to the rifugio, and I did not want to wander around to find a better angle.

Sunrise the last morning of hiking, around 6:30am

They did have a good breakfast, and then we got ready to go. We got our safety helmets (definitely needed) with headlamps, and safety harnesses, not as necessary, but nice to have. Then it was time for team photos.

Left to right: Liz, Charlotte, Terry, Sebastian, Molly, Lyndsie, Gianlucas, and Meltem

It was a bit scary walking down: steep and narrow, and I clipped onto the metal rope a few times. It was fun! I was very excited to see the tunnels. They were built during the war and had some stairs in them as well as rooms where people could shelter. There was very little natural light in parts, but some windows in others. I hit my helmet many times on the ceiling and generally stayed in the back. It was definitely a highlight, but it wasn’t quite as dangerous as I had hoped.

We came out at the bottom as a few people walking up from below got there. It was a pretty long walk down, so walking up to and through the tunnels was not an easy day. There were lots of switchbacks and then we saw a commercial area. We all got there in one piece and stopped for a snack and beverages. There were many sports cars on the roads for a rally of sorts, and I joked the most dangerous moment of the 4 days was crossing the road to get to the little shop. I got two sweets, a trifle with red raspberries in jello and a nice cannoli, and then we were off again. This time would be our last long climb. I enjoyed it, though it was quite steep and rocky at times, with some scrambles up culverts. I was in the front most of the time and then Sebastian went with me up the worst parts, where we were hiking with some 6 and 7 year old children and their teachers (they were very cute, with their little backpacks, shoes and hiking poles). Once we reached the high point, we hiked around the mountain to the backside with its amazing views of the curvy road to the next rifugio. There was a pleasant walk on a cliffside path for the last bit until we got there. Sebastian got us a big table and then everyone arrived for our last meal on the trails. It was nice, though the place was busy. They got us out of there in time to hike down to the gondola to the parking lot to meet our driver early, though he was still late for his next customers. We said good bye to Gianlucas there and rode back the 15 minutes to Cortina d’Ampezzo.

The gondola ride was at the site of those nice rocks, which were popular for climbing. It was quick and expensive at 19E each. It was still a warm and beautiful day when we got back to the hotel. I wanted to shower quickly and then get out to walk around, since I’d gotten there too late to see much on Monday. I wanted a souvenir and bought a nice blue bucket hat, but a lot of the stuff was very expensive , and I still had to carry my bags for two more days. It began to rain lightly as a storm loomed on the mountains just above the town, and I saw pretty much all of the downtown and shopping areas before it rained harder and I headed back.

I have not mentioned the spottiness of the internet most of the trip. I rarely had any connection while we were hiking, and the hotel signals were strongest in the lobbies and weak to non-existent in the rooms. I did a bit of online things Friday afternoon, and then Meltem met me to walk to the wine bar where we were going to get together again. I had no nice clothes, and I went in a t-shirt and shorts, which I quickly regretted as the temperature dropped in the storm. The rain had just stopped when we got there. The others were a little late. I think I had some sort of fruit juice (blueberries?) and then we went next door to a nice restaurant. I had veggie soup, which is an area specialty, and red turnip ravioli, quite awesome (I had lots of veggie ravioli this trip, which I love). Other than a little trouble with the bill and the waiter, we had a lovely last meal together.

Even though I was tired, I did not sleep well that night, either, and I got up early to run. After running and a nice breakfast, I felt a cold coming on, with a bit of sore throat and runny nose (that cold evening!) I wandered around more to soak in the village and then left on the bus, Seeing Molly and Lyndsie in the line. Two hours on a bus is not easy, but I got a lot of reading done, especially because a guy sat right next to me despite there being many seats open. The ride up was pretty, but the ride back was a yawner as we’d seen so many beautiful views since then. I got to the Venice airport and went in to the bathroom (I rushed in and went quickly only to find there was no toilet paper in that stall! Karma!), missing another good-bye for Molly and Lyndsie, and then I was on the bus to Venice after the wallet incident (see DRAMA).

I did not have much trouble carrying everything the 25 minutes it took to walk to my new hotel. It was a small, boutique hotel, and my room was small and very cold due to the AC cranking. I got ready and left as soon as I could for the nearby Guggenheim Museum, only a minute away. It was nicer than I thought, especially since it was along a pretty part of a canal. After that, I walked to the end of that part of the island with its splendid views of St. Marks and other buildings along the water. My camera battery was dying, so I walked back and took a break before going to dinner

My last meal in Venice was along the canal about a 7 minute walk from the hotel, highly rated. It was really good, with excellent service. There was a woman eating alone next to me, and a pigeon flew up and took bread right out of her bread basket on her table! Still she didn’t seem to want to chat at all. I had a nice dessert (tartufo) to get my ice cream for the night. It was still 90 degrees, so I was sweaty and showered. Everything was ready. I got up right when I wanted to and left a little early, and as I recounted in other sections, I had an uneventful trip home.

SUMMARY: If you like to hike, GO TO THE DOLOMITES!!!! It is as pretty as Yosemite with better food, not nearly as crowded, and you will always have spectacular scenery. The trails are good, and you could find your way without a guide, but it was great to have one. MONT Trekking was a great choice, and ask for Gianlucas!. A group hike is a great way to get around and we had a lot of fun. It was a good blend of personalities and hiking styles. If you get a chance, stay in Venice on the shoulders of the trip. Late August and September are excellent times to go. Below are some partial maps of the hikes (I was always forgetting to restart my watch after breaks). The fourth map is the first hike start. The first one is the last part of day three, I think. Third one should be the last part of the last hike.

The West Highland Way in Scotland

Genesis: When I was hiking in Ireland in 2019 (scroll downnnnnn through the blog posts), one of the hikers I met said there was nowhere better to hike than Scotland. I asked my friend, Ray Douglas, with whom I hiked a beautiful portion of the Pembrokeshire Coastal Pathway in Wales in 2018 (scroll even farther down the travel blogs), if he would like to do a hiking trip to Scotland last year. He expressed interest, and I happen to have a patient from Scotland whose daughter plans trips there. I contacted her and after a prolonged back and forth, we decided on the West Highland Way, but we ended up using Contours, a hike planning company in the UK we used in Wales, instead of her. They worked out all the particulars, and it was not that expensive. I have been to Scotland once before, to visit my friend Ollie Wagner and his wife, Heather, while he was doing an internship there. We had some good adventures, but it was back when we were poor before I graduated from medical school in 1990.

Getting There and around: We flew out of Newark on British Airways. That used to be a reliably good way to get anywhere, BUT THEY SUCK NOW! Check in for both legs of the journey took forever. credit card readers didn’t work right and there was a ridiculous amount of data entry for each of us. The flight from Newark was on a Boeing 777, so of course the air conditioning was broken for economy, and we were delayed taking off. It was very warm in the plane (80s - 90s) with poor airflow. I hardly slept because my neck was soaked with sweat on the pillow and in general. On the way back from Heathrow, the air conditioning was broken again (!!), this time in an Airbus plane, but it was not that warm in London and it worked better on the flight. Still we sat in the heat at Heathrow for 75 minutes after having boarding completed 15 minutes before scheduled takeoff because of a “minor problem, 10-15 minute fix.” Arrived 45 minutes late. BA is a 3rd class airline. Once at Glasgow, we took a taxi with a lovely driver who was super helpful. Same thing on getting to the train back in Fort William (he is the one who broke the news Taylor Swift was doing three shows in Edinburgh while were were there - “You shouldn’t even go. Just stay in Glasgow :-)” We took a slow train ride from Fort William back to Glasgow that was scenic at times, and a very crowded but speedier train from Glasgow to Edinburgh where I couldn’t get a seat.

The Hiking: The West Highland Way is a world famous multi-day track that is 96 miles long, starting in the Glasgow suburb of Milngavie and ending in Fort William. It is usually done in 5-7 days but can take longer. We worked out a 6 day plan, which still required two days of more than 21 miles of hiking. The trail included varied terrain, and it varied from narrow single track paths through forests to wide military roads built centuries ago with rough, slippery rock surfaces (I did not enjoy those portions). There were lots of puddles and wet spots, especially later in the week. We met people from all over: Australia, the USA, continental Europe. People were generally nice, and we tended to run into the same ones throughout the week. There were a lot more forests than I thought. Lots of stretches were through rain forests as that portion of Scotland is the rainiest. We found out about the pests they call Midges, small, silvery gnat-like bugs with an itchy bite and voracious appetites, before we left the USA, and I came prepared. I got a few bites despite the bad weather, but overall they were not too bad. They are much worse when it is warmer, so think twice about summer hikes there. The route includes a few steep climbs, but nothing too hard or dangerous (I took great pleasure in roaring to the top of Conic Hill and the Devil’s Staircase). We did bypass a treacherous portion in the worst high winds and rain, and later talked to some young men who had just done it who called that area borderline deadly. There was not much wildlife to be seen, and none of the classic Scottish cattle. We did encounter the odd sheep or three, but they usually ran away.

The Weather: I followed the weather as soon as the extended forecasts showed up on my feed, and it was looking rainy but warm all along. It was cloudy and mild the first day, but fairly sunny and warmer the second along Loch Lomond. After that a front moved in and sat there, sending squalls over us nearly hourly, some with heavy downpours and high winds. I have all the gear, and it was not that hard to put up with it. The sun would come out and the climbs could get a little warm, but just when I got a little sweaty, the wind would pick up and the rain would return. It was much colder than we expected the last three days, with overnight lows in the low 40s, which made for cold hands since I had no gloves. The weather in Edinburgh was glorious in comparison.

Running: Readers of my travel blogs have to put up with my favorite part of traveling: running in new places. Even though we walked a lot, I still love to run enough to wake up early and go out. Each run was special, but the absolute standout effort was in Kinlochleven on the last morning of the hiking. It was raining pretty steadily and chilly, and we had walked over 22 miles the day before, but I still went out and found parts of the trail we missed and the absolute highlight of the trip, the Gray Mares Waterfall, a Yosemite level powerhouse in the woods just outside of town on a nice trail. I didn’t have a camera, but I will never forget it. The other highlight was a 5+ mile run all over Edinburgh, around the castle, through Princes Park (where I found myself locked in at one end. I heard someone yell, “How did you get in there?!” I saw a woman in a dark jacket come over, and I told her I got in by the graveyard at the other end. She told me someone must have forgotten to lock that part, but she was very kind and friendly, asking me where I was from and telling me I did not allow for near enough time in Edinburgh. Very true. She told me she was there to unlock it, but she had a hard time, so she handed me the keys and I unlocked the huge padlock from my side of the gate. I love little things like that.), then down the Royal Mile to the Holywood Palace and then the park near it, where I covered a lot of ground. It seemed much longer. The shortest run was 5k in a driving rain in Crianlarich the day after our longest hike. It was a boring route, but still running in Scotland. I ran all over Milngavie as well.

Pull Ups:Though there are no videos, I did pull ups in Scotland for the first time at a small park in Milngavie we’d walked past the day before. The bars I used were so low I could not go all the way down. In Edinburgh, our hotel had a nice little gym where I did several sets. I am pretty close to 30 countries where I have done at least 4 pull ups.

Food: I enjoyed every meal. We had a breakfast included every day except the last (and Ray found a really good place near the hotel where I ate a huge amount). I almost always got cold cereal and milk, but often some porridge and other fruit. I ate 3-4 protein bars while walking (close to 1000 kcalories), and Ray, an enthusiastic but not voracious eater, usually found the place to eat in the evening, sometimes places he booked (fortunately) well in advance of our arrival. I could usually at least stay vegetarian, though I had a huge and very good fish and chips (made with haddock) portion at the renowned Real Food Cafe in Tyndrum (the large, with vegetarian soup, mushy peas and a huge piece of carrot cake - probably close to 3000kcal in that one meal). I got some gelato the last evening in Edinburgh after a nice dinner at a French Restaurant. Below are the French meal I had in Edinburgh, seasoned potatoes and French Gnocchi, Irn Bru, the iconic Scottish soda, and the cannoli display at a bakery where I bought three. I also ate Spotted Dick with Cream (next photos), which the server said I should never say aloud again, Haggis balls (next), veggie Haggis (next), and sticky toffee and sticky date pudding (last one).

One of the best sticky date puddings I’ve eaten!

The Scenery: I was a bit underwhelmed overall, as there were long stretches in forests and through fields where we could see little. The stretch by Loch Lomond was pretty, but it can’t match most lakeside places I have been. The last two days were in the highlands more and very pleasant to look at. I would say a 6/10 overall, well behind Canada, Ireland, Iceland, Switzerland, and New Zealand (though most reminiscent of there), but ahead of Swaziland, South Africa, and Australia.

The Hiking, part 2: Ray and I are fairly compatible walking, keeping roughly the same pace (about 3-3.5mph) when walking steadily. We were faster than most. One time, near the end of the 4th day, two young women caught up to us. It struck something in me, and I sped up and would not let them by. I thought Ray was right behind me, but I’d put a considerable gap between us. I finally let the women by at a gate I opened for them when I realized it wasn’t Ray behind me, but them. Ray is quite fond of tech and has a GPS device he uploads all the maps on, along with having the photos of the maps on his phone and another mapping device. We still got off the trail by half a mile on the longest day and had trouble finding the end of the hike. We didn’t stop to eat most of the time, but occasionally took a break to get the packs off. I usually only drank about 60 ounces of water during the day, but Ray usually did 4 liters.

Fails and Successes: I bought new hiking boots worried my old ones wouldn’t be comfortable over the distances, but the new ones were hurting my feet in the week before so I took my old boots. Fortunately the worked out fine. I forgot my brand new white, waterproof hat and took an old, useless white hat by accident. I also forgot my Garmin watch charger, but Ray had his so I borrowed it every day. I did spend about an hour going through all my stuff again and again looking for it. My Arcteryx gore tex jacket was the MVP, keeping me dry and not too sweaty. I took along my new mirrorless SLR camera but only used it on the good weather days. I think my camera on my phone takes better photos still. I set a PR one day with 55000+ steps.

Funny Stories: 1. After our dinner in Fort William, Ray stayed in the shopping area to get some souvenirs, and I started walking back to the lodging. After only a short distance, I suddenly felt the urge to pee. It was only a few minutes back, but it got terrible very fast. I started walking faster and faster as I could feel my bladder straining. I got out of the downtown and on the main road, moving as briskly as I could, but I was also looking for possible places to pee if it got any worse, a good shrub or alcove. It was critical bladder fullness in just a few minutes as I finally saw the sign to our place. I hurried into the building I thought my room was in. Wrong building! I did a quick scan, as there was a room for breakfast there, to see if there was a rest room. No! Now back out and I remembered which place was ours, about another 50 yards. It was really bad. I was saying out loud, in case it worked better than just thinking it, “Don’t pee your pants!” I got up to the top of the stairs and found my room. I got the keys out and put them in the lock. It wouldn’t work! Wrong key! Just then I felt some warm water on my thigh. I was peeing myself! I got the key in and got the door open and ran to the bathroom as a little more pee came out. I finally got my pants down and peed for a long time. Sigh. Then I rinsed off my pants and underwear, which weren’t bad - it was only a little pee, but it was still pee, and I hung them to dry. 2. There is a video on Instagram of me finishing off the climb up the Devil’s Staircase at about the 15 mile point of a 21.5 mile hike on day 5. I felt good at the bottom so I powered up the 900 foot climb, holding back a little because I didn’t know what it was like. It wasn’t bad at all, and I got to the summit just as two older (but probably younger than I am) English women got there as well. I was shooting a video as I walked and decided to do some push-ups at the cairn there to show how fit I was. I could see there was no good place to put the camera/phone, so I quickly asked one of the women to hold the camera. She did not know what I was going to do, but she did a brilliant job of filming me doing ten quick push-ups (could have done way more, but didn’t want the video to be even longer), and they had a great reaction. It took me a while to watch it, as I thought it would be terrible, but it was nice, so I posted it. 3. The first morning in Milngavie, we ate breakfast at the hotel. It was very chaotic, as the room was small and there were more people than should be in the space. As I was about to leave, I noticed a bunch of fat, biscuit/pancakey things and decided to take two and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to eat on the hike. I wrapped it in a bunch of napkins and put it in my pack. We stopped midway and I pulled it out. Turns out they were crumpets, and crumpets taste more like cardboard than cardboard does. But I got it down with some water and doubt I will ever try another crumpet.

Recommendation: The West HIghland Way is a worthy challenge and well organized adventure. Definitely worth the money and effort, and a good motivation to get superfit. The Scottish people were universally lovely and fun.

Dominica for My 60th Birthday

Travel blog for Dominica

Let the party begin!

As my 60th birthday approached. I decided a trip with some friends would be nice. I sent out some feelers, and six people replied that they would be willing to go. I still considered a few others, but the numbers seemed about right. Before sending out the feeler, my main concern was trying to find some adventure that wasn't that far away in a place that would be warm. I googled adventure and the Caribbean, and two places came up, Costa Rica and Dominica. I looked into both, and some of the people who had agreed to come seemed to be inclined to Dominica. The main problem with Dominica is getting there, and you'll read more about that in the getting there section, But we eventually got that all settled, and the trip went off. It was a fantastic time, one of my best trips, and I hope you enjoy the tale of it.

Highlights and Summary:

Activities: Whale Watching – we saw 0 whales, but a few cute dolphins swimming fast around the boat. Still a lot of fun and the story is good

Snorkeling: Dominica is a great place for snorkeling, with the most interesting attraction bubbles coming out of the ocean bottom from the volcanic activity in the area. Did this several days

Hiking: the best hike was to Victoria Falls, tougher than expected and very pretty

Beaches: came in rocky, regular and black sand. All were fun.

Game night on my birthday – awesome

Canyoning – a lot of fun and an excellent adventure. Must do.

Running: I ran every day but one. It was a big change in temperature, hectic, but always interesting and satisfying to start the day.

 Video link: https://youtu.be/ub4TTNPwNP0?si=kGPvzm7CAs0LpQ_B

We did not do the epic hikes, but they are a highlight for the fit and sturdy. Dominica can be a place to sit in the sun and enjoy the scenery and water, but it is best suited for those who like to get out and about and test themselves.

The planning.: The biggest issue was finding out who was going to go and then nailing down the dates. Everybody was able to get the time off around my birthday. We decided to leave on the Saturday before my birthday, January the 29th, and return the next Saturday. Greg and Kathy Wright could only stay until Thursday of that week, which worked out OK. The other people would be my niece Kelsey and her partner Matt, and Ollie and Heather Wagner, friends of mine forever.

One of my very best friends, Catherine Weekly, who couldn't make it for the trip because of some health concerns, has a daughter who does a travel blog and dive videos on YouTube. Holly Wakely had been to Dominica and stayed at a hotel called Fort Young, which is a dive hotel. She had a video about the hotel I watched, and I was fascinated. I thought it might be the best place for us to stay. The pluses were that it has snorkeling and diving facilities right off the dock, it's a very nice hotel with a good restaurant, and it does arrange fun things. It's also located right in the capital city of Roseau. That made it good for my running, always one of my major travel concerns. I ended up securing 4 rooms, all with ocean views. I was eventually able to get in touch with the hotel to manage some other details, such as pick up at the airport, other activities, and just some general knowledge about the town. We planned the first three days.

Another issue with Dominica is traveling in the country. The roads are very bad in the sense that they're narrow and twisty, though not that many potholes. We needed to get from the airport on one side of the island to the hotel on the other side, and then to our various activities. Taxis can be expensive, running 100 to $200 a day., with a rental car at about $80.00 a day. The problem for one of our activities was we needed a vehicle for eight people. As you will see, several coincidences happened that made our travel work out well.

Stressors: Leading up to the trip, I developed some knee pain and had to cut back on my running. That tempered my enthusiasm for one of the tougher hikes, which was the hike to the Boiling Lake which can be 6 to 8 hours with lots of steep ups and downs. We had initially wanted to do that, but once we got some other feedback, we decided not to. That lowered the stress level significantly, as it's very hard hike and I wasn’t sure the group could do it in a fun way. The second stressor was just getting there. It's not a country that has a lot of flights in and out, so if we missed any flights or there were any delays, we would be in a lot of trouble, and might even miss several days of the trip waiting for the next flights. As it turned out, all that worked out. I did have my initial flight cancelled by JetBlue. That was the flight from Newark to Puerto Rico with the connecting flight through to Dominica. The Orbitz assistant and I could not find any other way to get there on the same day. No matter what, I was going to have to fly out the night before and spend the night somewhere. I spent an hour on the phone with Orbitz. The best they could do was a flight through Detroit that cost $1600 extra. I decided instead to cancel that leg of the trip but keep the old return trip, which worked out very well for me to get me back early. I booked an evening flight to Charlotte with connections through Miami very early the next morning, and then to Dominica from Miami. Three flights in total, about 16 hours of travelling, and this option was only $295! I got to Charlotte around 9:45pm and checked in to a place inside the security area near the gates called the Minute Suites. Is a bare bones place with just a couch and a chair and some lights. Still, I was able to get a little bit of sleep on the couch and a little rest, and in the morning, I was able to get some exercise with a brisk walk around the airport before the plane left.

Getting there. Everyone else was connecting to San Juan, and from San Juan taking the same flight to Dominica. They were all going to arrive around 4:55 PM on Saturday, the 27th. I arrived around 2:15pm that day (time is an hour ahead). The only other bit of drama was I wanted to carry on all my bags just to try to make sure I got them there. At Newark, American refused to let me even consider taking the bag on the plane, as I was in Group 9, and they don't allow group nine people to carry on bags because they think the bins are going to be full. I had to check my bag there and hope that it made it to Dominica. Fortunately, I packed well and had enough stuff to get through the night in Charlotte and the rest of the voyage. When I got on the plane, there were six empty bins, so I could have easily gotten my bag on that plane. I was steamed. The flight to Charlotte went smoothly, and I was able to find the Minute Suites without too much trouble. I checked in there, was able to brush my teeth at their community bathroom, and then go to bed. It was colder than I thought it would be in there, and I needed the blanket very much to get through the night. I did not sleep well, but I did sleep a little bit and was not completely exhausted in the morning. The flight to Miami was fine. I had plenty of time there to get some things to eat before I left. There's an unusual part of the airport where you leave on flights like this to Dominica which was very chaotic, but it worked out OK and I was able to get on the plane without any trouble. The fascinating part of the journey was the landing in Dominica. The plane swerves through some very impressive valleys and canyons before it sets down on the landing strip. We were very close to the trees and the edges of the cliffs. It was a great view from the window seat. It has only one runway, so we had to slow down, stop, and turn around and drive back to the airport from the runway there. The airport is very tiny. Customs and passport control were quick. Funny Story: I was waiting for my suitcase on their carousel. Probably 2/3 of the passengers were gone at that point, and then I saw my bag, but I couldn’t get to it in time, and it went back out of view. I waited for another ten minutes for it to come back out and it didn’t. How long could this little carrousel be? Finally, a man standing next to me moved, and I saw it sitting on the floor about 20 feet away. Someone had taken it off and put it on the floor there!

I found a small restaurant a few feet from the check in entrance, as I needed to eat and kill some time They had a very nice vegetarian lunch plate to my surprise. I sat around and read for a while before finally going outside to wait for everybody else. I was shooed away from the area near the Arrivals door by an employee and had to stand about 50 feet away. I saw our driver show up. I introduced myself and stood with him while we waited. Fortunately, everybody made it and we got into the vehicle. It was a relatively big bus, and our driver, Clement, was great.

The trip to Roseau. We started out in daylight and ended up arriving in the dark. That was one of the reasons why I did not want to drive a rental car across the island. The driver did a great job. There were some slow vehicles that needed to be overtaken. It's also nice to have somebody that knew the island, and Ollie and Greg picked his brain as we drove. Ollie was quite a character the whole time. It rained several times on the way, but otherwise the trip was uneventful, and we arrived at the hotel at about the time we expected, a little bit after 6:30pm.

Fort Young Hotel: The hotel was fantastic. It is built in and around an old fort. The stone is a prominent part at the front entrance. Everybody was very nice getting us checked in, making sure we had all the arrangements set. We went to our rooms and mine was fantastic. I was on the 4th floor with an excellent view of the pool, the ocean, and where the cruise ships docked. The rest were on the first floor of the new wing. We met in the lobby and went to dinner. The restaurant turned out to be a big asset, as they had a buffet for every meal. We could eat quickly, get all we wanted, and have a good time chatting. The staff were very friendly, got to know us, and usually had one big table for us during the week. We ate breakfast there every day and had one lunch and two other dinners there. On the last day, we ended up eating with room service, as the restaurant was generally closed Fridays. The hotel had a very nice pool, and we spent quite a bit of time there both swimming and hanging out. There was a hot tub and an outdoor shower in that area. I went out snorkeling in the snorkel area, but we never did get around to going kayaking. It is a little bit more of a hassle, and you had to pay some money to rent a kayak. Their massage and spa treatments were not available as the rooms needed to be done, and the masseuse was out sick. The concierge was very helpful setting up some of our activities, including dealing with our rental car company. We had agreed through the hotel to rent a large van to accommodate 8 people, all of us plus our guide. The day that we needed the van, it didn't turn up. They eventually found out that the company thought it was for the next day. We ended up hiring someone from the hotel to take us instead, which cost us a lot more money, but it worked out very well as the trip was very tough and the driving was very intense, and where we had to park would have been an adventure, especially for me. The location of the hotel was fantastic, right on the main dock of the town, and the cruise ships would dock right outside there. You would be able to see the bow of the ship from the room. A lot of the touristy shops and vendors were right along that waterfront. We could go there to get souvenirs if we wanted. There were also several restaurants within easy walking distance, as well as a grocery store and a bank with an ATM. The ATM unfortunately only gave us Caribbean currency.

Saturday night went well, with a nice dinner, and most of us were tired and went to bed early. Sunday was a beautiful day. I got up early and went for a run. The waterfront seemed to be the best place to start, and I followed that and some dodgy stretches where the traffic was kind of heavy until I reached a promenade like area where there were some sidewalks along the waterfront. So, it was easy for me to get a three mile-ish run along that waterfront with only a few places where I had to be careful about the cars. After the run, I did some exercises at the gym, and then we met for breakfast. The breakfast was pretty good. They had some granola, and they had lots of fruit, with some pancakes with several toppings. The first day I did have their standard breakfast fish dish (pretty good). They didn't have milk, however, for the cereal, so I used cocoa tea, which they had a big vat of. That was good and suited cereal. It wasn't there every day, though.

Breakfast with the kids :-)

After breakfast, we got together and went out to walk around Roseau. A large cruise ship had docked while I was running, and now some of the people were coming ashore. There were a lot of hucksters and touts trying to get us to take taxis and tours. We walked by them and walked by most of the souvenir stands but did look at the things. We went further down the waterfront and then wandered around the town a little bit. We ended up passing a restaurant called The Realm, which looked nice. We found our way to the Botanical Garden and walked through that and saw some of the sights there, including the Bamboo House. At the time we didn't know what it was, but then we figured it out. It was right about that time Ollie realized he didn't have his phone with him. He wasn't sure whether he'd had his pocket picked or whether he'd left it back at the hotel. He and Heather slipped off. We were a little bit worried about where they went as they didn't tell us they were going. We eventually got a text from Ollie that he found his phone back in the hotel room. We made our way back to the hotel through the rest of the botanical garden, and then we went to the pool. It was very nice hanging out on a beautiful day at that point. Some of us went to the buffet again for lunch, which was really good, while others went to the store and bought some food. Then we waited to get started with the whale watching. We had to meet down at the dive shop. There was a pretty good crowd there. Greg and Ollie are very friendly. They were meeting a lot of people, including two women of about our age who are from Canada. One of them was a very pretty woman with long gray hair. The other one got on my nerves on the boat, but we chatted with them before we left, and then also on the boat. Most of the other people on the boat weren't very friendly. But the Captain, Billy, was fantastic. We had a good time with him and his assistant, Bamboo. We speculated the Bamboo was named that because his legs were so skinny, but it was otherwise unclear.

Whale watching:  We were allowed to go out and board. Initially we got a safety briefing, and then we left the dock. Captain Billy was not very optimistic, as he had not heard of any whale sightings so far that day. He was aware that several other boats had not seen anything. We headed to the waters south of the island and began to sweep in grids. Everyone was intensely looking out for a spout, but we never saw any whales. While we were traveling out, we did have some dolphins swim by the ship, and they were very cute. They were little dolphins and very fast, swimming right along the bow and along the sides, and occasionally jumping out of the water near the boat. Everyone was enthralled. We hit some hard times then as the water got a little rougher as we got out deeper onto the Atlantic side trying to find some whales out there. At one point I was standing next to Ollie, who was sitting next to Kathy and Heather. A huge wave hit us suddenly and knocked Ollie up into the air and onto the floor of the boat. As I watched him go down, I suddenly lost my balance and swung around on a pole and landed awkwardly sort of on the floor and into the side of a seat right near the Canadian women, who were shocked. As best I could tell, I was unhurt, and Ollie only had his pride a little bit hurt. It was one of our running jokes than the rest of the week (ex. Ollie giving talks on boat safety). Captain Billy did his best to try to find some whales, but we never found anything else. We had a nice view of the West Coast of the island. We went far enough that we could see most of the cities on the northern part. Billy was very helpful with his analysis of Dominica politics, and the economic and ecological aspects of tourism and the fishing Industries. The trip was supposed to take 3 to 3 1/2 hours, but we ended up taking almost 4 1/2 hours. We got back around. 6:30. We changed quickly and walked through town. On Sundays, Roseau is a very quiet town. There's not much going on and many of the shops are closed, especially after the cruise ships leave. We were able to find the restaurant we had looked for, the Realm, which was open. It is sort of an Asian fusion-type place. They had some good sushi and some other Asian type dishes. Greg got an interesting lobster, and I had some sushi and a few other things. It was all very good, and it had a nice atmosphere. We were the only people there other than some people upstairs. It was a Game of Thrones themed place, with a lot of Game of Thrones paraphernalia around the restaurant. I couldn't care less about the Game of Thrones. After we were done eating, we walked back to the hotel. I stopped by Ollie and Heather’s room to see how nice it was. It was exactly like mine. As I left, Ollie leaned in close and said, in a conspiratorial whisper, “Terry, we didn’t see any whales today, but we did see a lot of Boobies.” It was one of the funniest things anyone has ever said to me (there was a flock of Boobies, the aquatic birds, flying around our boat at times).

Monday, January 29th, my birthday:

Initially. We had planned to do canyoning on this day. I got a message from the canyoning guide, Nathalie, on Sunday afternoon, saying that the weather is supposed to be bad on Monday, so the canyoning would be rescheduled. I told her the best day was Wednesday, so she booked us then. It was supposed to rain a lot overnight, and then off and on during the day, and the Canyon would be dangerous with extra water.

Because of that, we made a snap decision to try to find a beach. We knew there was the so-called Champagne Beach just down the road, so the concierge said they could call us a taxi in the morning at any time we were ready.

I got up at about the usual time to go running, and this time tried to go right on the main road outside of the hotel parking lot and down the coast on the south road. It turns out Monday is a very different day than Sunday, and the traffic was terrible. It was backed up for a long way., and the cars were jammed on the road. It was very dangerous, so I was picking my way on and off the sidewalk and sprinting faster when there weren't any cars, but I gave up after only about 3/4 of a mile going south and came back into town. I tried to get to the Botanical Garden, but even that was an adventure, as it was also time for children to go to school, so there were children, parents, and cars everywhere! I generally don’t like crowds, but I embraced it and made the best of it. That's what you're doing running in other countries, having adventures. I was still very satisfied at the end.

After breakfast, we were picked up by Major, the taxi driver for the day. It's a bit of a wild ride anytime you're in a car or a taxi in Dominica, and Ollie made it entertaining by chatting with Major, one time mentioning that Major looked like the kind of guy who liked to eat. We were sure to ask him for dinner recommendations on the way back. The drop off point for the champagne reef or beaches is not very distinct. There's a small area where you can pull the car off the road. There were cars parked on the shoulder past that point. From there you walked down a set of dirt steps into an area of thatched roof shops, There we met people who would provide us with snorkels, masks, fins and guides. Ollie and Heather hired a guide, but the rest of us went on our own. I have my own snorkel and mask but got fins.

It was not easy at all to get into the water, as the beach was only sand for a small area, and once you were up to your ankles, it was all rocky, with the waves coming in. I was able to get into the water with my fins on, but then I had to take them off because they were full of rocks. That became a theme for the rest of my swim. I had the additional challenge of carrying my camera and having my phone in a waterproof sack around my neck. The camera came in very handy, and you'll see that the footage was good. I could not get my phone camera to work with the plastic underwater, so it was useless in this instance. It works well outside of water in wet conditions.

I took off by myself, finding Greg and Kathy getting in from a different area, and Kelsey and Matt further on. I didn't see Ollie and Heather much once I was in the water. It's quite a long swim to the champagne part of the reef. Probably 100 to 200 meters., which is still entertaining because there's some things to see, some little pieces of coral, some interesting rocks and some fish. Once you get to the bubbles, it's fantastic, and the bubbles were all over. We really enjoyed that, and I spent a while out there before swimming back. It was not easy against the current, and trying to get out, I fell several times on the rocks. and then. Everyone but Greg was already reading on lounge chairs, but I was too hyped. I paced around a little and then went out again, this time leaving my phone. It's very good exercise, and a very interesting day. I loved snorkeling and being in the water there. The water temperature was perfect., and it was a nice sunny day, at least at that point.

We were all done at that point., having gone out and back three times. walked back up to the road, and found Major’s vehicle.

On the way back, Major stopped by one of his relative’s, bakeries. We got some baked goods. I thought I was only buying a slice of fruitcake, but I ended up buying a whole one. I ate it over several days.

When we got back, the weather turned bad. It was raining fairly steadily, off and on over the afternoon. Every time it looked good, I would start getting ready to go down and try to kayak, but then it would start pouring again.

After a workout, I got ready for dinner. We walked to a place called the Old Stone House. It had mixed reviews, but Major had recommended it. Unfortunately, they didn't have very many vegetarian options at all, so I cracked and got the ribs. They weren't that good, but it was good enough. Everyone was fascinated by a lizard that was climbing around in the restaurant while we were eating.

The real highlight of the day was game night. I love to play games, and everyone indulged me, and we played charades (one of my favorites) in a quiet area of the hotel lobby. They surprised me by having the restaurant deliver cake and ice cream., which was a super touch. I was very moved. Charades was hilarious, as Greg kept mistaking film for songs and some of the clues were very hard to get. Fortunately, I was at the top of my game. It was one of my best birthdays ever, and I appreciated everyone so much for all their efforts to get there, their expenses for the travel, and their sportsmanship and camaraderie. We were getting along great and having a great time.

Tuesday, January 30th:

Tuesday was probably the craziest day. After running, and having breakfast, we were meeting at 9:00 to have the rental car dropped off so we could go to Victoria Falls with a guide that I'd hired over Instagram. Chadi Symes came highly recommended. He had been easy to deal with online. The plan was for me to drive a rental van that would carry all eight of us out to Victoria Falls. The plan fell through when the rental van did not appear. It helped in a way that Chadi called us and said that there was too much rain on Monday, so it was going to be late morning until the falls area was safe enough for us to go. We had some time to kill while we were waiting to come up with another plan. Our concierge was very helpful and dealt with the rental car agency for a while, but they could not get us a rental van that day. They thought it was for the next day. We were able to secure the usual guide from the resort to just drive us there with Chadi, who would guide us, and the driver would stay there while we did the hike. It would end up being much more expensive than the rental car, but at that point it was our best option. As it turns out, it was very fortuitous, as the ride was quite a deal. It's very curvy and twisty road with lots of ups and downs, And then when we got to the place, which was very hard to find, the road into the parking lot was a crazy narrow dirt track (mostly). The parking lot was also very small, and the driver was quite good at parking the van.

I thought the hike was supposed to be easy. Right away we had to cross a stream. The water was running fast and the. Creek bottom was slippery, so it was quite an adventure from then on. We crossed the stream several times back and forth, usually in knee to waist deep water, and we had to scramble over lots of boulders in addition to walking on narrow trails through the jungle. I hurt my tricep slipping on one of the rocks. Kathy Wright did fall (always comically) a few times into the water. The hike went on and on, and finally we came to a place where you could see the waterfalls. The guide was fantastic, and he showed us a way to give ourselves tattoos with the ferns that we could find in the way. When we got to the sites where we could see the waterfall, we took lots of pictures. Chadi was very helpful, taking pictures both of me and everybody else. Then we made the final push and got to the waterfall. He made me go out by myself first, since I was the birthday boy, and they took some photos of me in the water in front of the falls. Everybody else then got very excited, and other than Greg, they were swimming and splashing around in the water, with the wind howling and spray from the falls dampening everything. It was fantastic. Everyone’s face was tired from smiling so much.

The hike back went faster. Everybody was very considerate and tried to clean up and dry off before sitting down. The drive back didn't seem to take us long, but it was a very long day. We didn't get back till almost 6:00.

I was happy everyone was too tired to go out in the town, so we ate at the hotel buffet.

Wednesday, Jan. 31st:

Wednesday was canyoning day. It was relatively hard running in the heat, so I took a day off, and slept a little bit later. We met for breakfast and then waited for arrangements for the canyoning. The guide, Nathalie, showed up in the lobby. I was surprised how tiny she was. Their driver was a little bit late, but we all got together and rode up to the starting point, with Ollie and Heather sitting it out. It was a very tricky drive. There was a small parking area just off the road, and there were some other people that met us there that were going along, a man and woman from. France. As we got ready, putting on wetsuits, Natalie let her hair down. She had dreadlocks as long as she was tall, so they touched the ground! She had to put them in a big sack she had on her head. We then had safety harnesses that we put on and helmets. Unlike every other canyoning trip I've been on, we started right at the top after a brief walk down to a cliff for our first rappel. Natalie quickly went through the safety briefing, Unfortunately, I was at the back, and I didn't hear as much, but I've done it several times. The French people went first, and they showed us how to do it, and we had to rappel down a fairly large cliff, probably 25 feet, and then swim over to a log where we waited for everybody else. I was the last one to go, and I got used to it quickly. From there we started moving down through the canyon. It was a lot of fun. There were very few slides, all short (to me the easiest activity to get injured doing), but there were some nice jumps, and some excellent rappelling, especially one time down a waterfall with the waterfall pounding on your head and your body as you went down. That was a bit much for Kelsey, who was overwhelmed, but she held it together and made it through. The rest of us had a blast, and we always felt safe. Natalie was a good guide. We had her assistant Natty, along. He was bigger than both Greg and I, but very kind and very nice. He is a musician most of the time (he works a lot on cruise ships), but he did guiding when he was home. This was the highlight of our activities for me at least, as I love doing this kind of stuff. It was a nice day, and the water was just perfect. It was good that we didn't do it on Monday when it was rainy. After we were down to the bottom of the Canyon, we had a brief hike up a moderately steep trail to the parking place. From there we got undressed and cleaned everything up, and then the driver took us back to the Fort Young Hotel (we had to use almost all our cash on the fees and tips!!)

After we got back, I went and got some money from an ATM, which was unfortunately the Caribbean currency and not American dollars. From there I went to the supermarket and bought some lunch, including a pasta salad, banana and some yogurt. I ate that, and then went down to the dock to see if I could rent a kayak. Turn out the kayaks cost $20, and it didn't look like it was the best setup, so I just went snorkeling in the area around the dock. It was fun!         There were a lot of fish and some interesting things in the water. While you were out in the water, you had to set up a flag that let people know that there's someone out there. When I came back, I got to raise up the stairs and put the flag down. I felt very useful. Then I walked over to the pool, took a shower at the outdoor shower and went for a swim. Everybody else was around there hanging out. We played UNO for a little while

This was Greg and Kathy's last night. We wanted to go to a nice restaurant, but that place wasn't available. We went to a place called High Rise instead. It was a blast. Ollie was in rare form and was almost over the top with his comedic statements and behavior. I ordered what seemed to be a lot of food. Our server, a very patient local, made a mention of that, and Ollie said, “He works out a lot.” She said “Yes, he's jacked.” That made my day! The food was actually really good, wasn’t expensive, AND we got a big surprise when Chadi, our guide for the hike Tuesday,, showed up. He and Ollie talked a lot, but he also chatted with the rest of us, and Ollie bought him some food. Ollie ended up talking a lot to another guy who was Chadi's cousin. He had played soccer at a United States college. Ollie wouldn't leave him alone. We guessed at that point that Ollie had three beers. We joked that bringing Greg, who is a big extrovert, and Ollie together was a dangerous risk, but it turned out that Ollie put Greg's extroversion to shame. After dinner, we searched for an ice cream place. The first one, highly rated, was closed. The next option was closing soon. By the time we got there, it was also closed, and we hung our heads and started to turn around. Just then, a gentleman came around the corner on the sidewalk and waved to us. It turned out he was the owner of the ice cream shop, and he opened it back up for us and let us in. Greg was kind enough to treat us all to the ice cream, and I also got a piece of carrot cake that was delicious. I got pistachio ice cream, which surprised everyone. It was so good. The whole evening was super cool, and we all had a great time. You could sense the magic of Dominica that night. Greg and Kathy left in the morning before the rest of us got up (they had a crazy trip back that took them all day).

Thursday. February 1st.:

After my run Thursday, where I went to slightly different way and found some hills., I was the first to breakfast. I was in a rush because I needed to get the rental car. We'd signed up to get a rental car for Thursday and Friday with a different company after the screw ups Tuesday.

I met the guy from the rental car company at the front entrance of the hotel. He took me to the car that they wanted me to take, which had a big hole in the front quarter panel from an accident (!!). Our first stop was the Island Revenue Office. That was just a few corners away, and we parked there in the busy lot. We went inside and queued up. I had to pay $30 to get registered to drive in Dominica. It wasn't too complicated and just a little bit of paperwork and waiting for the guy to stamp the forms. From there, we drove to the lot and headquarters, which was right along the route I had been running in the mornings, about a half a mile from the hotel. I'd been worried because I wasn't sure they were going to take a credit card, but I was able to charge the rental while I was there, and then we drove back with me following him, as the way back was confusing. I did have Google Maps, just in case.

At the hotel, the front lot area was hectic, and they discussed where I should park the car. I put the passenger window down to talk to the guy at the lot. After I got the car where they wanted it, the window wouldn't go back up. We couldn't get it to work, so we talked to the concierge, and she called the rental car company. The guy didn't come back, but the secretary did my credit card transaction came with a different car. Even though she got the window to work (she grew up in a family of car repairmen), we switched out and got a brand-new car that didn't have a big hole in the fender and the hood. BUT, that was not the end. She didn't have the right key! Amazingly, there was ANOTHER c ar they were renting there, And we got that one! It was quite an adventure all morning with the rental car. We had paid for a full tank of gas, but it only had half a tank. At this point, we wanted to get going!

 Our goal that day was to drive South. We wanted to go to the southernmost point, which is called Scott Hill. I was able to get out of the parking lot, and I did a quick 3 point turn, and we were on our way. Ollie was an excellent copilot, managing the opposite side of the road edges, which had significant drop offs into drainage ditches at times. We had a couple of narrow spots where he guided me through, and after one wrong turn under Kelsey's guidance, we made the rest of the way without too much trouble. We got to the narrow roadway to Scott Hill, where we had to pay a little bit of money to go into the little park. From there it was a very rough road across. I thought the best thing to do was drive to the top, but there was a narrow “road” with two cement tracks to go up the hill. There was a homeless guy/beggar sitting right at the bottom and he wouldn't get out of the way, we almost drove off the track right away, which would have caused a lot of trouble. We did make it up to the top, but it was not easy. From there we had an excellent view of the South part of the island, Looking back north, both the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea. There were a few old Fort remnants there that we could hike around as well. After our little hike, we drove back down, and then we looked for the other beach that has bubbles coming out of it. That was easy to find, though we needed Ollie to ask where the best place to park was. We were able to park there for free and walk to the beach where we paid minimal fees for chairs.

The snorkeling there was excellent, though there weren't that many fish. The bubbles were great and right off the beach. You could walk in and by the time you were up to your waist, you could be in the bubbles. While I was out of the water, Heather offered me one of the apples they bought at the grocery store. I ate it, and then put the core down to take to the trash later. In just a few seconds, there was a chicken beside me pecking at the core. It was making quite a deal, moving that core around and eating it. The way back was easier. We didn't have any trouble parking the car as well. I was very satisfied. I had talked with Matt about kayaking, but we never got around to it. It was just too much money for what we were going to get out of it. I was a beautiful day to relax by the pool instead. We went to the French restaurant, Laku,for dinner after scoring a reservation. It was where we tried to go the night before. For Dominica, it was expensive, but the food was the best we had. For dessert,  I got banoffee pie. After dinner, we decided not to go for ice cream. Kelsey and I spent the latter part of the evening down by the pool trying to play cards in the dark.. There's just enough light to see. It was fun to be down by the ocean, with the waves crashing against the seawall, playing some Gin.

Friday. February 2nd.:

My final run was just a simple out and back run along the waterfront, but this time I went for 3 1/2 miles. I went past where the second cruise ship docks north of Roseau when two are in town. It wasn't too bad, on the traffic wasn't as bad as the other days. We had our last breakfast, but there was no granola out. I was kind of disappointed. I asked for granola, and they got it, which was pleasant. I ate an extra big breakfast since we weren’t sure where we would get lunch. We were ready to leave at 9:30, and we started heading north through town. On the way out there were some narrow parts, but we got through them. We were going to Mero Beach, which is a famous black sand beach on the northwest side of the island. We got a great parking spot right near the beach, only a few steps from chairs and under a bamboo pole, sunshade. There was a guy there who was kind of running the show. He was very gregarious, showing us everything that we needed. We walked around and swam and then went out in the water even a little bit more. I got tired of snorkeling, as you couldn't see anything. Everybody else enjoyed being in the water. I did go out for a swim. We watched other people's swimming up and down the beach. I spent my time in the moment, enjoying the fact that my friends were there with me having a good time, there was a nice weather and that we had this opportunity to be in this lovely island.

When we decided to leave, we went to our car, and it was parked in. That good parking spot played against us there. Fortunately, there were men there who were very switched on, and they knew exactly who owned each car, and they got them to move them, and we were able to pull out and get out of the parking lot without too much delay. On the way back, we suddenly came to a stop, and then it became obvious there was a big obstruction. There was a truck taking up about 2/3 of the road now on the sidewalk in the lane coming at us. There were maybe three cars in front of us We pulled over to the other side of the road to let it by, which took a while, and it just barely made it. After it went by, about a mile’s worth of other cars went by and wouldn't let us out. It was quite a traffic experience for Dominica.

We decided to stop at one of the hot springs facilities. We chose one that was rated better than the others. The road to it was unbelievable! It was very twisty, rough, potholes, and narrow. It was trying my patience very much when we finally got there, and fortunately it was an easy place to park. We had to pay a fee (Kelsey did, at least), and there were several different hot pools to go into. There was one that was not quite as hot, and there was one hotter and each had a little cold shower adjacent where you could quickly cool down. The water was supposed to be somewhat good for your skin. There is also a mud bath area where I went in and laid down. I was the only one to go in there, as you had to cross a little stream to get into it (I got a terrible rash on my lower legs, possibly from this). Everybody enjoyed themselves, though the water was quite hot in the hottest pool. We did some good videos, especially of me going into the cold shower after being in the hot water.

Fortunately, the way back wasn't quite as bad. We drove through the Botanical Garden to the hotel. We also managed to stop and fill up the tank with gas on the way back. I went ahead and filled most of it up, even though we'd only gotten a half tank initially. We did get an upgrade with the car, so i didn't feel too bad about paying extra for the gas. It wasn't that much money anyway.

By the time we got back to the hotel, Ollie and Heather were already starting to not feel well, with Heather getting sick first. They decided not to go out for dinner, so Kelsey, Matt and I decided to walk to a place that I'd read about. We got out of the hotel and found that the city was very chaotic. Friday nights are apparently a big party night, and the hotel pretty much shuts down except for a private party on the lower level. The restaurant was not open. We walked around, and everybody was a little bit uncomfortable. We got to the area where the restaurant was supposed to be and, but they didn't feel comfortable going in there. It was very loud in the street, and people were acting wild. We walked back through the dark streets to the hotel. We checked in the lobby, and they said that we could order room service. We had the room service ordered to be delivered to the lobby area where we sat and played cards. The food finally came, and it was good. It was an interesting last night in Roseau and at the Fort Young Hotel.

Saturday, February 3rd.:

We had to get up very early to make it to the flight. The plane left at around. 8:00, so we left. The hotel at about 5:10am. Ollie and Heather were both a little shaky. The driver was great, and got us to the area near the airport through a lot of thick fog. I was very glad I wasn't driving. Suddenly we came upon a loud street demonstration. There were people dancing, with music playing in the street. We had a little trouble getting by them, but just a little bit further on the road, there was a giant flatbed truck with about 10 foot high speakers on it and people partying all over the street. Apparently, they had been up all night. It was around 6:30. They were all looking very stoned and weren't willing to get out of the way. Finally, a man got our attention, and he waved us through and pushed people out of the way so that our vehicle could get past them. We had about 100 yards of crowd to go through, and then it opened up some and we were able to get to the airport in plenty of time. We were the last people to check in for our flight, and the lines were a little bit of a delay, but it didn't take too long.

Everybody had a different itinerary. From Puerto Rico, and. Kelsey and Matt decided to leave because they had a long wait. They left the airport and went out and had lunch at a restaurant, and walked around a little bit. Meanwhile. Ollie and Heather noticed that there were earlier flights to Atlanta, so Heather queued up and got right at the front of the line to switch their flight. They had just enough time to eat lunch with me at one of the restaurants there. It was a Jimmy Buffett themed restaurant called Margaritaville. I was able to get some fish tacos that were halfway decent, and then they left. I had just a slightly longer wait till my flight to Newark that ended up leaving just fine. I was able to keep my carry-ons for that flight. The rest of the trip was uneventful. I got to Newark without problems. I was able to get to the parking lot without any difficulty and get in the car and drive home. It was. A great and uneventful end to my trip, EXCEPT

When I got to my apartment building, my key card wouldn't work to open the door of the outside. Fortunately, I have an app on my phone that was able to do that. So, I was able to get in the building. Once I got to my apartment, the key card wouldn't work there either. I was very angry. I didn't know what was going on. I had to call the emergency line. It took several efforts to get through to them. They were very annoying, asking me lots of questions, when all I needed was someone to send me a code to open the door. Finally, I got the guy and he sent me the codes, but it wouldn't work. The door still wouldn't open, and the lock was acting wrong. There was a problem with how things were working. I waited about 10 or 15 minutes for him to come and finally put the code in one more time, and for whatever reason it now worked. I was able to get into my apartment, and I found on my little table by the door an envelope with new keys to the apartment. They had changed the key system while I was away and didn't tell me anything about it. So, I was very angry it took about 50 minutes for me to get into my apartment once I got back. I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink for a while, so I was also very hungry, I ate a quick meal and went to bed.

Northern Ireland Touring, 2023

I love Ireland. I am probably biased because of my surname, but every time I have been there has been fantastic. It is so picturesque, so utterly charming. So, when I met David and Ethel Walker on my trip to Switzerland in May of 2022 and they offered to host me for another trip, my first extended time in the north, we worked it out for June of 2023. This was my sixth time in Ireland. The first four times all were to play golf (best courses in the world), two with my dad and two with friends (Greg Wright twice), in 1992, 1995, 1999, and then 2015. In 2019 I went to hike the Kerry Way in 6 days in my favorite area, the southwest. This trip was to be mostly sightseeing with some hiking, and I would also meet my friends from Zambia (I met them in Swaziland), Michael and Grace Chilombo, and stay overnight with them after arriving and before departing. I visited them in 2015 and 2019 where they live just outside of Dublin, near the airport.

Drama: This time was fairly limited. I was getting into very good shape in May and then hurt my calf on Memorial Day weekend. I then hurt it worse the next weekend and again the weekend after that, so I went into the trip just able to walk, though as always, I want to run every day when I am traveling. Otherwise there were weather delays for the flight going over, direct from Newark, and then a 3.5 hour delay in getting my bag on returning, also blamed, somewhat suspiciously, on the weather. There was a little drama on my trip Sunday to Derry as well.

The Agenda: Saturday I was to arrive in Dublin around lunch time. Sunday I was supposed to travel to Derry, in the North. Once there, we would travel around the north and west of Ireland, trying to see some of the Wild Atlantic Way. I would come back to Dublin on Saturday and catch an early flight on Sunday morning to Newark.

YouTube Video Link: https://youtu.be/8qpTfU7aMMw

The video was very hard to make due to troubles with iMovie, so I tried to put more of the photos it would not let me use in this blog.

Running: I was able to run every day from Sunday through Saturday. The first morning I did a walk-jog for just over 2 miles and felt fine. Then I did more jog than walk Monday for nearly 4, then at least 4 miles a day the rest of the week without problems. I enjoyed each run immensely. I needed my phone with me in Derry as there are many nice but circuitous paths and it was easy to lose one’s bearings.

Pull-ups: I had done pull-ups in the Republic of Ireland before, but not the north. On my Sunday run/jog I did some pull-ups and dips at an outdoor gym in the local park. Northern Ireland was to be the 24th or 25th country for me to do pull-ups in, but I could not find a place there - no outdoor gyms I could find - Thanks, Brexit - until Saturday morning while on a tour of the Walker’s barn - popped 4 quick ones holding onto the bricks above a doorway.

Day to Day Diary: Saturday: The flight was delayed 2.5 hours as the plane could not get there in time due to storms elsewhere. Then we sat in the taxiway at Dublin for 25 minutes until we could get a gate to park the plane. The passport line was quite slow, and then the guy I was waiting for, behind two others, got up and left after not taking anyone new for 5 minutes, so we had to get in another line and that one went the slowest, so I was just about the last person to get out of the passport area (it took so long the baggage handlers were taking my bag off the track to store as I arrived). Grace and her son, Chichi, were waiting for me when I walked out of customs. Chichi is 11 and Grace is as beautiful as ever. Their house is close to the airport. Once there I ate a bowl of cereal and chatted before lying down upstairs for a nap. When I got up, Michael was back, and we had a great talk about lots of topics, catching up on his career. Then we drove to nearby Blanchardstown for dinner, where we ate outside despite some showers and had a lovely meal, entertained by a Native American server from northern Virginia. I went to bed around 10:30 and slept well.

Sunday: Grace and I had chatted about taking a road trip to Derry and doing some sightseeing, but it is 2.5 hours of driving each way, and then she got in an accident a week or so before. Her car was still in the shop. She had a rental with a stick, and she didn’t feel up for the drive, which was fine. We figured out which bus to take from a stop at the airport, but when we got there it was sold out. We figured out I could catch a train from the city center if I hurried, and we made it to one of the Dublin stations with about 15 minutes to spare. I got on the correct train and headed out, in communication with the Walkers. I brought some energy bars for lunch. It is a 4+ hour train ride, and I found out, through David, it would be a tight window to get a train from Belfast to Derry once I arrived there. There was not another train for 2 hours, so it was pretty critical for me to make that train. The Irish rail system has wifi, but it has unhelpful websites, and I had to talk to David several times and then the conductor before we stopped to try to do my best to make it. It all went well, and I was on the trackside with 5 minutes to spare (I did hustle). It was a pleasant and relaxing ride, unlike the first leg, and we were often along the seaside. I arrived at the station and was walking through it when I saw Ethel Walker, but she did not notice me. I got her attention and a warm greeting, and then we found David outside. He has a nice car and drove us to their house, which has a name, and we did a quick walk around. He is a collector of large metal pots and other things, and they have a nice little orchard with apple trees from Robert Frost’s homestead in the US (David wrote to the site and they sent him cuttings, which his gardener/orchard guy grafted onto trees they had. That is in Derry, New Hampshire).

We had a nice dinner and then left to do some local sight-seeing, heading first to an old fort southwest of Derry. Grianan of Aileach was up on a hill and it was raining when we got there and then off and on while we toured it. The walls were all that were left, with several tiers. We walked all around, taking in the views and then headed back to Derry.

Once back in Derry, it stopped raining and was not too bad. We parked near the old city walls and then walked up onto them and went around, nearly a mile. The walls are quite wide, like a two lane road (wider than lots of Irish roads), and they served as barriers during the troubles. The river used to come right up to one side, but now it was a hundred or so yards away. It was really nice, easy on the eyes, and I took a lot of photos with my new mirrorless digital SLR Lumix camera (selfies with my Google Pixel6A).

Monday: We were able to leave a little early. David is still active in managing/owning McDonalds franchises in the area, but he was sort of off (he took a few phone calls a day - they were also helping Ukrainian refugees get settled and employed) and Ethel was retired from teaching. Ethel drove her Ford Puma plug-in hybrid as we left Derry and got on the Giants Causeway coastal road. We usually had a view of the sea after we got out of Derry, and the first nice spot was a scenic overlook with a statue of St. Columba on the front portion of a boat. The day was hit or miss weather-wise, with occasional showers, but at that point it was nice.

We passed near Port Stewart and arrived in Portrush, home of famed Royal Portrush Golf Club, where the 2019 Open Championship was held to much acclaim. The Walkers have a second home there, but for now we walked the promenade on the seaside and had a stop for coffee for them and a smoothie and chocolate treat for me.

It was not far to the Giants Causeway from there. It is a major tourist attraction. There is a education center and a large parking lot. We talked to a sentry and parked in the last available space in the hotel parking lot adjacent. We skipped the education center and walked down the long road to the site. There was a shuttle bus that drove down and back regularly, as it was not a short or easy walk - probably around 3/4 mile each way and all uphill on the way back. The Causeway is so named as myths told of a giant using the area to stage revenge missions, etc. It is an interesting formation of basalt that expanded with a volcanic eruption and then contracted in the mud and cooled into these columns, many of which are hexagonal, with the exposed rock pieces about the size of a dinner plate. They reminded me of stacks of coins, or, especially, tootsie rolls. I carefully walked over much of the area while Ethel and David waited. David did take a few photos of me sitting in a popular spot called the throne (I think), and I went through the opening to the other side twice. The second time, with them, we posed on another rock called the chair, and a woman took a badly lit photo of us (included). As we started to leave, it began to rain hard, with large drops, and we walked all the way back in it. It stopped at the top and we walked back a different way to the car with broader views of the area. It is well worth the visit. This earth has so many peculiar and fascinating places!

We stopped for lunch at a very popular restaurant (deservedly so), and then visited several different harbors, most notably Ballintoy, which had signs documenting several scenes from Game of Thrones which were shot there (I have not seen any of that show and never plan to). At Ballintoy, the skies opened and poured as we parked, but it didn’t last too long. We started over to the caves that caught my eye by a cottage that turned out to be named “O’Rourke’s Cottage.” We took a lot of photos there and David kept asking why I was not inviting him in for tea. After a short walk past the cottage, we came back to beautiful light with storm clouds in the distance. The rocky features of the harbor are stirring, and the huge white cliffs in the distance gave a great backdrop.

The town of Bushmill was nearby and they wanted to go to the distillery there. We parked and only walked briefly on the grounds and went to the gift shop. David wanted to buy me a bottle of the whiskey, but I was able to talk him out of it and into a few coasters. I didn’t buy anything else. From there we drove by a few more beaches and then took a walk around a golf course, passing on another trail to a swinging bridge as the weather didn’t look good. We finished off the trip with a stop by their house in Portrush, which is like a beach cottage but not that close to the beach, and we got fish and chips from their favorite place (it wasn’t that good). After that we drove back to Derry. It was a great day of awesome scenery.

Tuesday was another busy day, with showers off and on. We drove south to Donegal town. I had looked forward to seeing it and that area, but after parking it started to rain hard and steadily. We spent most of our time there in a clothing store (well known for its tweeds), where we also ate lunch (really good), before heading west along the coast.

The goal was Slieve League, a large area of seaside cliffs. We passed through the small town of Killybegs, where there were lots of medium sized fishing ships and a large cruise ship. Somewhere past it we missed the turn and found ourselves in the countryside. We decided to go on to Glencolmcille, a small touristy town they had not been to. There wasn’t much in the town, but just past it was a pretty spot where they had a folk village, with thatched roof huts and outbuildings we could pay to tour. I didn’t want to go in, and somehow David did briefly, but then we took some photos of the nearby inlet and left.

As we started to drive back and look for the correct turn, I realized the car had a GPS system they did not know how to use. I programmed it for Slieve League and it took us down some really narrow roads, but we got there (we made a lot of fun of Ethel’s skill on the narrow streets). There is a parking lot at Slieve League, but it is not big. We got one of the last spots after someone pulled out. From there, it is an impressive walk only for the fit (Handicapped placards were allowed to drive out). The initial hill was very steep, recalling Baldwin Street in Dunedin. Once to the top of that, it was a relatively flat mile or so to the main cliffs viewpoint, but the entire area was cliff scenes. Unfortunately it started to rain as we walked up. I went ahead and took some gloomy photos with my waterproof camera. Slieve League has some high cliffs and a group of rock formations called the table and chair, below in the water, but with the rain coming down, it became a metaphor for the rest of the trip of a mild disappointment (not a huge one, like Chariots of Eggs). I walked around a lot, and we did get a delicious ice cream cone (honey!), but the sun never came out. The walk back was better and I noticed the scenery much more without my hood up.

From there we headed to our hotel, Harvey’s Point, along Lake/Lough Eske. The roads there were very narrow, but it was a nice spot. It had signs saying it was one of the top 10 hotels in Europe and was even #1 one year (!). It was nice, but no gym or spa, and those terrible roads in. My room was massive, with an antechamber, a huge bathroom with a large jacuzzi (that had a small Venus de Milo on the shelf above it), a large bed, and then a sitting area with a view of the lake. I was impressed, and I thought I was going to be paying for both of our rooms for the two nights, but the Walkers paid and would not let me reimburse them. We had dinner reservations there at 7. The food was excellent but the portions small, and I don’t remember any of the course (I now recall a single crab ravioli as a starter), though we did have a palate cleansing sorbet after the initial dish (it was a 4 course prix fixe menu for 65 E). I was still pretty hungry so I ate a protein bar when I got back and then went for a walk on the grounds, with some photos of the lakeside, before going to bed.

Wednesday: This was the first day we would split up. Ethel and David were going to go towards Sligo sight-seeing (and David did more clothes shopping :-), and I was to go for a hike. They had talked about me going into the hills north of the lake to look for an old crashed plane, but I talked to the concierge at the hotel and thought going around the lake would be better for me, especially since I was only a few days removed from a sore, tight calf. We met for breakfast, which was a fantastic array of food. I ate so much, but the most interesting thing was hot porridge with honey combs and jelly mixed in. After breakfast I got ready and left. It was nice and quiet early, but then the dark clouds rolled in. It started to rain while I was on a trail to the tip of the little peninsula south of the hotel. I was following a marked trail, the Bluestack Way, which I had run on (a portion on the road by the hotel), and I made the (incorrect!) assumption it would go around the lake, since it was not on the map I had. It was a nice, wide gravel and pine needle covered path, and I knew I would want to run on it the next day, but it came out onto some roads and I followed it up some steep hills. Finally I looked at my phone, which I had set to not use data, and I was way off where I wanted to be, and there was a sign to Donegal (I was actually on the very narrow roads we had driven in on!!). I turned around and hustled back down the hills to the junction and took the correct way to get back to where I wanted. From there it was all on roads, and not very scenic, weaving through the neighborhoods along the lake. It took forever to connect with the road I’d run on the western side in the morning, and the total hike was just over 13 miles, a lot of it in a light drizzle.

After cleaning up I rested with my feet up. We left for Eske Castle, which was a resort adjacent to Harvey’s Point, for dinner. It was a nice old castle, with big portraits hanging, but the dinner was in a modern wing. I finally paid for something. It was very good and more filling: a mushroom stuffed puff pastry, butternut squash risotto, and a raspberry tart from the “vegan” menu.

Castle Eske, I think restored about 150 years ago.

Thursday: After another big breakfast, we headed out for the Wild Atlantic Way north and west. It was a very pretty drive and the nicest weather of the week. We stopped for coffee in Dunloe, and continued up through small towns and past many small harbors to Dunfanaghy. There we had a rushed lunch and Ethel and David left for Derry. I was to stay in Dunfanaghy and do whatever I wanted until lunch on Friday.

Just across an inlet from Dunfanaghy is a famous scenic area, Horn Head, and I thought I was going to hike it Friday, so I was a little thrown off when David told me I should do that hike on Thursday afternoon.I thought it was 14 miles, and I had just done 13 the day before. Once I sat down and looked at it, it looked more like 14km, which was easily doable. The weather was fantastic, so I filled up my Camelbak in the hotel bathroom (I could not check in, but I could leave my bag there). I had more stuff in my bag than I needed, but it would be fine. The desk clerk told me where to go and gave me a map (very handy), and I set off through the town and across the narrow bridge. It was all on the country roads to the parking lot for the view, almost all uphill, but only about 800 feet of elevation to ascend. There were more cars than I hoped on the road, but it was never dangerous. I caught up to a couple from Maryland about halfway up and we chatted about various things until we reached the parking area. They took photos of me and I of them, and then I went on a trail to the tip of the peninsula. The trail was never bad, a bit muddy only a few times, and it went to the collapsing stone building used for an observation point during World War 2. By this point the sky was a vivid blue and everything looked as good as it can.

I walked back to the parking area and then climbed the hill to the observation area. It had some nice views as well. Not sure what that concrete box was.

From here I walked back. There was a different road that went east and south and up and down some more, with a long downhill into the outskirts of the town on that side. The total distance was just over 10 miles.

I was able to check into the Hotel (Arnold’s) when I got back. I was happy to take a shower and get off my feet, but first I killed about 6 flies, and had to kill a bunch more the rest of the evening. The wifi was spotty, but worked in the restaurant, where I had a filling meal and debated what to do with the rest of the evening. I went for a walk right after dinner to contemplate further. There was a pub a few doors away with live music, but it was getting close to 9 and it had been a long day, so I went to bed. Slight regrets.

Friday: After breakfast, I again left my bag at the desk and went for a walk. This one was on the same route initially, so over the narrow bridge, then turning left to the Largabruck Nature Reserve. The beautiful (!) parking lot was crossed to enter the trails. It was advised to go counter clockwise, so I did, and I was beset with biting flies for the first 15 minutes, maybe getting 6 bites and killing just as many that were trying to get me. Once I got out of the forest and into the meadow, they were not as bad, and the wind picked up. I progressed to dunes land and that track took me down to a beach. The grass was often quite high I had to push through, and it was kind of grass that would scratch your legs, so I was glad I had long pants on. There were some huge sand bunkers near the end, and then I was back at the parking lot. It was a 5km circuit.

I stopped in a local store on the way back to the hotel and bought some souvenirs, including a beautiful wooden cutting board and a warm-looking wool hat with fleece lining. In the store I found one of the biting flies on me and failed to kill it, unleashing it on the other customers. I waited at the hotel for the Walkers to come. They arrived right around 12, and we drove through town to an art gallery where David had ordered a painting. Next door to that was a museum for one of the work houses during the potato famine, and there I bought some nice Irish chocolate bars (absolutely delicious!!). From there we went to a place in town they fancied for lunch. It was a nice meal with good dessert. I left a bit early to go to a sweet shop next door for some Irish treats for work (very good!). After a brief stop at a beach, we drove back to Derry, during which David and I fell asleep, much to Ethel’s delight.

When we got back, I did my laundry, which was a huge help, though their machines were small and it took a while. We went to dinner early at a hip, modern place in Derry. When we got back, we talked about travel, especially their trip to the Canadian Rockies. Before bed, I packed strategically so everything I would need was in my backpack and I wouldn’t need to open my big bag.

Saturday: As soon as I saw the Peace Bridge across the river, I knew I wanted to run across it. It was far enough I put it off until this morning, but it turned out, even with a few wrong turns, to only be 4.5 miles roundtrip. It is a beautiful bridge for pedestrians, and on each side are nice running and cycling paths. When I got back, I had time for a tour of the rest of the house and the property (when I snuck in the pull-ups). They took me to the bus depot and left me. The bus left right on time and took about 3:45 to get to Dublin airport. It took a while to connect with Micheal and Chichi there as this bus dropped passengers right at the main terminal, but then we were back to their place. We went to a nice restaurant for dinner and then to bed.

We left for the airport at 6am. Unlike the US, the gates didn’t even open until 3 hours before departure, so we waited in line a long time to check in, but everything else went ok. We thought we would leave early, but then, of course, not, and got to Newark at a time where there was no ground crew, so we waited again to park the plane, and then 3.5 hours for our luggage. It was terrible. But the trip back was ok from then on.

Summary: Ireland is a great place, one of the best destinations, and you should try to see all of it over several trips. I am so grateful to my Irish friends. They were beyond generous with their time and money. I cannot repay them, but I will surely try to see them again! Irish public transport is useful if a bit slow, and you can use it to get to the cities for sure. Be ready for rain, but even in a gloomy drizzle Ireland is a magical, charming place.

Back In Time to Greece in 2023

I love to travel and write about traveling, the latter only limited by my lack of love for typing. I started a tradition in 2015 of treating my nieces and nephews to a trip to a place of their choosing (within reason) as a present for graduation from college. The first trip was to Patagonia before Christmas of 2015 with Andrew O’Rourke, then to Italy with his sister, Kelsey, in January of 2017. In May of 2017, I took Madelaine Mills to Paris and Amsterdam. Thomas Wentworth passed. There was a lull, but then Carlie Mills was up for 2020, and she wanted to go to Greece, where I had not been. Fortunately I waited to make plans and didn’t have to cancel anything as Covid 19 shut everything down. I continued to travel, but without any nieces or nephews. But this year finally looked promising. In addition to Carlie, Cecelia Hough graduated early in December of 2022. They were most agreeable to go together with me and they chose Greece.

I worked at the World Bank from 2018-2021, and while there picked the brains of many of my patients as to places to go. The Greek ones recommended staying only a short time in Athens and going out to the islands for most of the trip. They gave various agendas, but I usually lost them. I consulted World Bank friends Lesley Goh and Miguel Soriano once we picked a time (they thought May would be less crowded but the water too cold), and they told us to try for two islands. That was my intent once I started booking things. You will have to read (or scroll) to the end to find my own advice about traveling to Greece, but we opted to only go to one island, Santorini (the best), and to fly instead of taking a ferry, which was my original plan.

https://youtu.be/qm9mVfjTQMM

For those of you who don’t want to read the rest but maybe will sit through a narrated video.

Getting there : The girls did not want to try to leave on a Friday to get there on Saturday, so we planned to leave Saturday and come back the next Sunday, for 1 night on a plane and 6 nights in Greece. There are no direct flights from the easy to get to airports in the area, so we left just after lunch at a Bethlehem Vietnamese restaurant Saturday (allowing plenty of time to get there) for Newark, connecting through to Athens via Vienna on Austrian Airlines. The trip to Newark encountered multiple accidents and google maps-led detours, but we still arrived in plenty of time at ARB Parking, which surprised me by taking cash only, taking all of my and the girls’ cash. They otherwise were great and got us there, where check-in was easy and so was security. The long flight, 8 hours, went smooth with little sleep despite my new neck support pillow and use of a blanket to blackout my senses. I thought Cecelia was sitting next to a pleasant man who talked to her off and on, but turns out he was a creep who was rude to her for wearing a mask amongst other pettiness.

At Vienna, we had to move around a bit to another terminal to get to the next flight and the girls got a passport stamp on the way. The second flight was a little over 2 hours, but the flight was delayed. We sat behind a boy who appeared to be about 3 years old and possessed by a demon. He sang and yelled almost the whole time, waking me up several times as he jumped up and down in the seat. At the time to land, he repeatedly got out of his seatbelt and moved around, and when belted, kicked the tray table in front of him with both feet as hard as he could, alternating with hitting it as hard as he could with both hands when it was down. The adults sitting on each side made only the merest efforts to control him. After we got to baggage claim, the thought occurred to me that perhaps I had missed a chance to kill the next baby Hitler.

Our bags made it, and we asked for help at the information desk. The best way to get to our hotel was a taxi, and the area was just outside the nearby door #3. The queue was long, but it went fast. We were next when the guy overseeing it said to go to the third car.

A person got out, and I immediately could not tell their gender. Gray hair, well lined, jowly face, and a square-shouldered, boxy physique with what looked like breasts, but bad posture as well. The voice was deeper and gruff, and they handled the heavy bags well, fitting them all in the trunk. No matter what the gender was, they drove like a maniac once off the airport grounds, doing about 140km/hr (around 80mph) in the 80km/hr zone. The windows were open to add to the effect of excessive speed. No one said anything for a while. They finally said some things about landmarks we passed, like the ancient Olympic stadium on our left, and then also why we drove around the block to get to our hotel, The Royal Olympic. The meter was a little over 43 euros, so I gave them 50E. They seemed happy. The girls insist it was a woman. I am still not sure.

The Royal Olympic Hotel was in an excellent area downtown, near the Acropolis, and it had a room that three could stay in with a king (two separate beds pushed together) and a twin. But we had to wait until 3pm to check in, and then our room was not ready. They had a nice lounge where the girls fell asleep and/or looked at their phones. They offered us a free drink while we were waiting, but I didn’t care. They let us check in then and our room was on the third of 7 floors, as far from the desk as possible. It was nice and the wifi worked, so we rested a spell, then took showers and got dressed to go out.

We had very little to eat all day, so that was my first goal, and I thought we would get a late lunch and then a late dinner, but everything took long enough we were eating only dinner at 6pm. There was a vegan restaurant just around the corner, probably only 30 yards away from the hotel. It was ideal (Cecelia and I are vegetarian). We could eat outside, where it was a perfect temperature. I ordered a lot of things, including what was a staple throughout, fried potatoes.

We crossed a busy boulevard and entered a park, where there was a church and an area where people sat around. We moved onto some dirt trails and ended up on the road that went by the Olympic Stadium. We noticed right away the cross walks did not stay on walk for long and one had to hustle. The stadium charged a fee to go in but didn’t promise much more, so we just looked on from behind the barricades and then crossed the street to go back through another park. My goal was to find our way around to where we could view the Acropolis from outside the fences and barriers. Along the way we passed a large yellow building, Zappeion Hall, which had a fountain and gardens, with many orange trees with the fruit rotting on the ground around them. We worked our way through there to where we could see the Stili Olimpiou Dios, some old columns that had scaffolding around them, with a few sitting apart. We kept moving until we came to what becamse one of my favorite landmarks, Hadrian’s Arch, and a busy intersection. We crossed there and got on a cobblestoned pedestrian walkway that took us to the southern side of the Acropolis for our first good views of it.

So, the Acropolis. WOW. Way more impressive than I thought. The walls and hills are quite high above the surroundings, and you can see the Parthenon sides well from the street. We continued on the path, a steady, gradual uphill, then down a bit as well, turning around on the downhill section when we got gelato. They wanted to walk back another way to avoid the crowds, and I found one, but it was quite a bit longer.

I had an idea when we got back. The hotel, which was quite nice overall, very old-timey glamour and lighting, has a rooftop restaurant where we got complementary breakfast. I figured we could go up there, now that it was dark, and get a nice view of the Acroplis at night. I had seen quite a few photos online of it and wanted to see it for real. There is only one elevator that goes to the roof, and every elevator was tiny. We got out and I asked the maitre de if we could just got look at the views and he said of course. So we all took photos. It was lovely and well worth it.

Any reader of these in the past will know the highlights of the trip for me are my morning runs. In Athens, that was no different. I slept better than usual (though for only 6 hours) on my little twin bed and got up early to run, just as the sun rose. I went right up to Hadrian’s Arch and crossed the street there, following the same path we had walked the night before. It was lovely, with light from the east, and I took many pictures with my phone. I had noticed a road the night before that headed more toward the Acropolis and took that past some of the lower ruins and to Areopagus Hill, an area of exposed rock on the northwest side of the hills with a great view of Athens and the west side of the Acropolis. Then I ran back down the the walkway and veered off that into the neighborhoods north of the Acropolils, passing The Roman Forum of Athens. I ended up in the parks we had been in the night before as well and then headed back, a good 4 miles. I stretched and showered before the girls were up and went to breakfast. There was a lovely view in the morning as well.

Their breakfast buffet was very nice, though they only had cow’s milk for cereal, but lots of choices and I ate a lot. I rushed back when the girls didn’t come up and went to the desk at 8 to try to schedule an Acropolis tour, but there was a line at the desk, so I went back to the room and decided to go without a guide. I booked our skip the line tickets online and, when the girls were back and ready, we headed out.

We had heard the lines were long to get into the Acropolis and that it could get extremely crowded, so we went as early as we could, and, et voila, NO LINE at 8:45am (which was fortunate as it took a while for us to go through the gate as I gave Carlie the same e-ticket as me). The bottom had several ruins; a theater, some temples and then some preserved columns, and we took all of those in as we gradually went up and towards the Acropolis.

It got more and more crowded as we got to the bottleneck, a set of stone stairs that took you through a set of columns and then onto the ancient site.

As you walk through the entrance, the Parthenon is on the right, and that side is covered currently by scaffolding. There were lots of people milling about, but plenty of open space as well. We went right over there and looked around, then moved along the side and to the back. It is a good-sized building and still holding up. To the left of it was the Erechtheion, and we walked over there and then to the far end, which has an overlook with great views, including of the Olympic Stadium and all the parks we were in. Then we went in close for a look at the non-scaffolded side and the area along that wall, before taking a closer look at the Erechtheion. We kept mentioning how glad we were to be able to look at what we wanted and not to have to listen to a guide!

W started out, and the exit is really impressive as well. It was a great experience overall, for me especially with my interest in the art and architecture of the ancients. The exit was back through the columns in another passage and then down some stairs with a great view of Areopagus Hill and the ruins of the forum below. We made out way from there to Areopagus Hill. Carlie was wary of going there, but it is not scary and we got some good shots.

We found a trail from Areopagus Hill that went down through the scrub and back to the pedestrian walkway and out of the crowds. We walked the general area in which I had run, back through some alleys and narrow roads heading back to the hotel. Cecelia talked about going to the pool to relax and swim, but the water was a bit cold, so they fell asleep for two hours. We had tickets as well to the Acropolis Museum, so we went out for a late lunch and found a nice place where we could eat outside. We got salads, all of which were too big, and then I panicked when I looked at the Museum passes and saw they expired at 3pm, and it was 2:20. We went over and again had trouble at the gates, but got in. It was nice, but after the Acropolis, a let down. Lots of old statues and carvings, with the best exhibits models of what the Acropolis looked like over the centuries. I saw a sign for the archaeological dig, and we went there. It was under the building; the Acropolis Museum was intentionally built over an archaeological dig site (Again, issues with the gates! Sigh).

After the museum we walked up a steep hill - I thought they might rebel - and got into some nice neighborhoods with souvenir shops and a place to get gelato. Then we headed back to the hotel, where the pool was now too crowded :-), so more naps ensued.

After everyone was awake, the plan was to walk out the pedestrian walkway for dinner at a place where we could see the Acropolis at night. We got a great table at The Hill restaurant. The girls liked their meals - mine wasn’t so great, but there was a good lemon pie for dessert, all as it got dark and the Acropolis glowed. It was a great evening in Athens!!

Tuesday morning dawned and I was up before the sun at 5:05am, still only about 6 hours for sleep. I was ina hurry, so I rushed out and ran past the Acropolois and all the way to the end of the main walkway, turned left on a similar path and kept on that until it became a nice bike path. On the way back I took a little chance and went back another way, weaving through a number of nice alleys to come back on the road between the parks and by the stadium to do a little more over 4 miles. No phots this day.

I was at breakfast fast, again before the girls. I was given a table for two in a more crowded restaurant. They took my coffee cups away, and I nearly left some stuff there but then decided to keep it with me (Kindle). I got a few things and when I got back a man was sitting in my seat eating. A waiter came by right then, and I said, “Excuse me, but this was my table and this man is now sitting at it.” The waiter nearly exploded, and said to the man, “You are sitting at this man’s table! He was sitting there.” The man stood up partly and turned around to look at me, muttered something, then asked, “Are you with NATO?” That was not the question I expected. I said, brusquely, “No, I am not.” The waiter waved the hostess over and said the man had taken my seat, and I said, when she arrived, “I just need a place to sit and eat.” She signaled the waiter to take me to the very corner table nearest the hedge that blocked the view of the Acropolis and said I could sit there. I put some of my stuff down as he left, but the table was all messy with the prior occupants’ plates, and he reached back and grabbed a cup, spilling coffee all over the table cloth. He rushed off, complaining loudly how the people at this hotel never listened or did what they were told. The guy at the table next to me was an American and he looked up and laughed. The waiter came back with fresh linens and changed the tablecloth quickly. I didn’t eat that much and left quickly. .

I had checked and the desk said we can get a taxi to the airport at a moment’s notice, The girls were back quick as well and we were out of the room at 8:20am and in a taxi by 8:27! This driver also did not talk much, and we wove through some crazy traffic and narrow streets to the main highway and made it in plenty of time. We were expecting a tiny plane, but it was a good sized jet and pretty full. After getting our bags, I looked carefully for the people waiting to pick us up (the hotel in Santorini had contacted me and offered to come get us. I had no idea how I was going to get there otherwise, but was going to figure it out on arrival). I finally saw a short woman with my name on a piece of paper behind everyone else and outside the airport building, and we followed her to a van. Her husband met us there and helped us load the back. He had longish, dark hair with a bit of gray, in a dark tank top covering a big belly. It was about a 20 minute drive to Perissa up and down some big hills. We drove along the beach and around a corner, and they pulled up to a small building. This was it.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was disappointed initially. I thought this was part of a resort, but it was a small hotel near the beach. They said we were the only occupants for our stay, so they gave us rooms upstairs. We both had queen beds, with my bathroom much smaller, and their balcony overlooked a better view than mine, which looked out on the back of the building at the building behind it. But for about 55 dollars a night for each place, it was a bargain: small balcony with place to hang wet clothes, a few chairs, a large closet and a small but complete bathroom in the unit and a free breakfast. I was a little frightened when he asked for cash only for everything, including for the ride to the hotel, but they turned out to be great hosts and very helpful. They mentioned the best way to see the island was to rent a car, and I was initially resistant, but when I heard how much it cost, the wheels started spinning - only 30-35E a day! Much cheaper than public transportation for three.

They left and we put our stuff away and then went to get some food, as it was close to 2 pm. We were lured in by the first place on the beach we came to, where we got a great table by the beach with a good umbrella and had a nice meal. The food was always good and not that expensive in Perissa, and most places had vegetarian options. We walked around briefly to get the lay of the land and then decided to go to the beach. We changed and sat on the beach for a while, and I went in the water, which was cold and rough, as there was a front moving through (most of the time the waves were small - this day 3-4 feet high, with a steep falloff.). After my brief swim, I went back to get out of the sun, and the girls figured out how things worked. You could lie on the beach chairs under umbrellas for free as long as you ordered something. Now I got it, and from then on I liked our place even more - it was only a short walk to the beach, but far enough away it wasn’t noisy. The beach has black sand and was a bit on the rocky side, so good. Finally a big positive: the road along the beach went right along the water for two miles, so perfect distance for a safe, flat run in the mornings, with enough town to explore to shake it up. The other notes of caution: the water was not considered drinkable ( I read later it was desalinated and people didn’t like the taste, but it was not dangerous)., and the sewage systems could not handle toilet paper, so you had to throw the TP in the small trash bin next to the toilet.

The girls knocking on my door to let me know they were back woke me from a deep sleep, something I‘d had very little of so far. I could tell they were very excited to be in this little beach town on a Greek island. I was not as impressed, but this was not about me, so I enjoyed their enjoyment and adjusted my attitude. I got myself together while they got changed, and then we walked along the beach again. I was quickly struck by each restaurant having a tout or two standing near the entrance on either side of the road trying to lure us in, and we chose a place only a few stops up the road where there were two charming guys promoting it and which Cecelia had read good things about. Everyone fawned over us while we ordered traditional Greek food. I even ordered Tomato Balls, a Santorini favorite - it is known for its cherry tomatoes. They had nice hummus and Tzatziki and good bread as well. Then a cute girl came out and offered us a drink of Ouzo on the house. I begged off, but they brought out shot glasses for the girls and they did not like it! Then I got a great dessert - Kataifi, which had looked like a giant shredded wheat but tasted like heaven, with a crushed nut and sweetened center covered by the spun topping and then soaked in syrup. One of the guys came over to talk, said I looked smart and asked me what I did for a living (I replied, “I am smart, actually. I am a family doctor.”). We talked a bit about my life and then I asked him which places he would go on a tour with a rental car. He said the instagram places were Fira and Oia - they were beautiful for photos. I decided then to rent a car the next morning. They invited us to their traditional Greek night on Thursday, with singers and dancers, so we said we would be back. There was a nice gelato place on the corner on the way back with a striking woman serving it. I got the chocolate highlights (also cheap!). Then to bed. It was a good day!

I wanted to sleep later but we were told to be ready for breakfast at 8:30. The road along the beach was a nice run; breezy, but not hot, few cars, no dogs. The road becomes dirt at about 2 miles and then ends, but there are other neighborhoods out there for another day.

At breakfast, which took a long time, I got there late so I did not get a bowl of corn flakes (for you non-cereal eaters, somehow the 3 most universally available cereals are also the worst: cornflakes, Rice Krispies, and Wheetabix. No wonder people don’t like cereal!). I did not get any the other days as well. That day we got a ham sandwich, a fried egg and some other things I don’t ever eat, plus a nice bowl of Greek yogurt and some fruit. I asked to just be given the yogurt and fruit and some toast from then on, but I got all the same things other than the ham sandwich from then on. The good part of breakfast was I asked to rent a car, and the husband came over and set it all up. The guy came by about 30 minutes later with a compact car, 5 speed, and I paid him 30E cash. We got our stuff ready, had a rudimentary map (all you need there), and some instruction about where to go, and set off, initially with the owners following right behind us.

We tried to go to the Red Beach, but we missed the turn they’d described and ended up going right into Fira. We couldn’t tell well where we were, as we were not using google maps, but after passing through most of it, we found the last spot in a parking lot that was reasonably convenient. We had to walk along the road to the center of town, but it was only one way, so not as dangerous, and headed up a narrow hilly alley dotted with souvenir shops. We stopped to get Cecelia a shirt to cover up, which was linen, and I got some socks. We kept going up the hill and got to the central market area, and from there kept heading in the direction everyone was going until the sky opened before us and we arrived at the Caldera! This is one of the world’s splendid views: you are on a cliff formed by a huge volcanic eruption, upon which humans built oddly shaped and contoured houses which are almost all painted white, overlooking a spectacular view of islands and water, crisscrossed by various ships and their wakes. It was quite windy, but that only took our breath more away!

We went along the walkways there and kept going up, eventually getting on some steep steps that had a lot of donkey poop on them. It smelled bad but was tolerable to me, but I was surprised Cecelia and Carlie seemed to find another gear and hustled up that part. Turns out Cecelia was close to vomiting from the smell! Anyway, we went pretty far there. The view never got old, and it was constantly changing its perspective. We walked back a slightly less crowded way and eventually got to the car. There were a few uncomfortable moments when I couldn’t figure out how to put it in reverse, but then we were on our way to Oia. The road was almost empty, and we again were not using our data to guide us. Suddenly, we were stopped. It took us at least ten minutes to go 100 yards, and we found ourselves through Oia already, turning to leave. We went right , and down a steep hill, finding an empty and free lot at the bottom to leave the car. We had to walk back up the hill, which was dangerously narrow and occasionally without sidewalk, to get to town. From there we weaved through alleys and again came out on a spectacular view. It was similar, as it was not that far from Fira, but not as high up. It was lunch time, so we looked around, but nothing seemed as uncrowded and desirable as the restaurant we passed in the alley as we arrived, so we went back. There was at least some view of the caldera for Cecelia, and the food was really good (vegetarian Moussaka!). After eating we walked a ways out and up to get a good look around.

We got some ice cream then and walked back down to the car. There was a chain up over the entrance to the parking area, but it looked like we could open it. We didn’t have to as another car took it down and left it down when it left (looked like some maintenance guys). We were now driving down the northeast coast along the sea and through tiny villages. As we talked, Cecelia seemed to think we were nowhere near where we were (she was holding the map and was my navigator), so I joked she was out of the job and Carlie was now on duty. I think it hurt her feelings a little, as Carlie was way worse and Cecelia didn’t chime in at all. We made several wrong turns and then ended up in Kamari, near the road to Ancient Thira. I thought we might go up there, and Carlie said there was a road connecting it to the other side and Perissa, so we started up. BIG MISTAKE!!!! It is about a 1000foot vertical climb on a narrow road with hairpin turns in a switchbacks all the way up. The turns were tight I had to shift into 1st gear to get around them. I did not stall, but I was quite uptight. I tried not to show it. Eventually we got to a small traffic circle at the top, but it was clear when we arrived there was no connecting road; we had to go back down the same way. I was disheartened. Still, I got out of the car and took a few photos - the views were great, but we did not try to go to the ruins.

Now we had to get back down! I had to trust those brakes on the rental as there were few walls or guardrails and very steep drop-offs. It took a long time but it was easier than going up and we made it. We passed some people walking it. When we got to the bottom where the curvy road started, Cecelia said she saw a sign that said, “No Motor Vehicles” lying on the side of the road. I was mortified! Had we just gone up there and back, at considerable risk, illegally!?! Now I had to drive back worrying about that. We corrected some of our mistakes and I looked a the map myself finally and we got on the correct road to go around the mountain. We weren’t sure where we were again, but then we realized we could go to the Red Beach now. So we saw that turn and went down through the countryside to a small parking lot where you had to pay 5E. We used the public toilets at some ruins but did not go in, and then walked to the Red Beach, which the sign said was 400m, but it was much farther. The wind was really howling there, but it was interesting enough, and area where the soil oxidized and turned a rust color. There were hiking trails to it and to another beach beyond, but this was enough for the day.

Our trip back was uneventful except for a stop for petrol, where I guessed wrong about how much to put in but didn’t want to stop again (20E didn’t move the needle much - gasoline there was about $10/gallon). After a break, we walked farther down to dinner, saying hi to our friends on the way, and ate at a quiet place with few employees, unlike the night before. I ordered sardines, which I also did in Lisbon, and was again disappointed. The same dessert, Kaitafi, was good again and even better with some banana ice cream. The walk back showed me I’d missed, twice now, seeing a pull-up bar on the beach! I had not seen s single place I could get away with a pull-up in Athens to add Greece to my pull-up list, but here was the answer!

I had trouble sleeping the first night as the mattress was quite firm. The night of the 17th i made some adjustments to use the quilt doubled up as extra padding. I rarely let a lack of sleep bother me, but I was not getting much on this vacation, that is for sure, often being woken up by my phone for various alerts. Sigh. But I stopped and did 7 pull-ups on the bar I found, which was actually quite high and hard to reach without a jump, and hard to hold onto with sweaty hands.

Today we’d paid for a cruise in the caldera. I was very excited, but we had to be ready early to catch the transfer bus and we were not sure where exactly to go - “in front of the church” we were told, repeatedly - but there was no front we could find. After a miniscule breakfast (They made my fried egg wrapped in bacon, so I ate none of it). We got there early to look around, and down a side street there was, in fact, a front of the church, and there a sign for buses. Now, did OUR bus come there? A few came and went, but finally the one for our tour pulled in … and then drove off around the circle and stopped on the other side. We hurried over, but there were plenty of seats and he waited a bit.

The roads on Santorini are not wide, and the bus ride was always a little crazy. Then we started down the road on ths cliff to the harbor. WOW! Another road full of switchbacks, but with the turns extra wide to allow the buses and trucks to make them. Still, we had to wait at times for vehicles going the other way to get by. The views were great. There were several other buses and boats there, a few looking like ours (old wooden sailboatish). We stopped on the concrete pier area and sat for a while. Finally the driver got up and pointed out in the harbor. “That is your boat. Wait out here.” There was a boat about 200m out coming towards the pier. It took a while, and it again sailed past us to the far end and tied on. They told us to stay away, but finally got the walkway fastened and allowed us on. We had to go to the left side/port side and more to the stern, where we sat on flat wooden bench seats and waited for them to go. It was another lovely day, a bit windy, but not as bad as Wednesday, when they canceled the tour due to the high winds. The boat was not crowded, but then two more buses came and ti filled up quickly. A short, perky Greek woman was out guide, Vaso, and she said the name of the boat and tour, King Thiras, so much it was seared into our memories.

There was a bar in the middle of the boat serving drinks and snacks in addition to being the designated smoking area, right next to me. The water was fine and we had no trouble moving about, getting first to the volcanic island of Nea Kamen, which last erupted in 1950 and generally did every 100 years or so. It has five craters, but only the highest and farthest from the dock has any steam and heat coming out. We had an invigorating walk about it during which we had several briefings and heard the name of the ship yelled even more. There was a massive eruption about 5000 years ago that killed everyone on the island and created the caldera, with its high, steep cliffs and sharp drop off into deep water. Since then there have been several others that changed the islands landscape slightly. The views were nice and the terrain varied, with us generally staying away from the volcanic rocks.

I hustled back and was one of the first ones on the boat, so I could get into the bathroom to change into my bathing suit. The next stop was a smaller island with a cove adjacent to hot springs, which pumped heat into the water near the shore. We were going to jump in and swim in the water. Once we got there, we got more details. The water right off the boat was about 60 degrees, and the water fed by the hot springs was only 70 degrees, so not very hot. Still, when the crew took away the chain and said we could get in, I was the first one. I asked if i could dive - it was about 7 or 8 feet up, higher than I like, but it was only once! He told me it was slippery and might not go well, so instead I jumped. It was cold, but endurable. I started swimming right away, trying to impress everyone. But the water was full of sulfur, so I did not want to open my eyes or get much in my mouth (because the high sulfur content could permanently stain light colored clothes, Carlie didn’t get in, having only a nice, new light blue and white suit). I yelled up to the boat that I was not finding the warm water, and then headed for the closest shore, which was not that close. I did find some warm water, but we had to swim or tread water the whole time. Carlie missed my jump, but she got Cecelia with her long legs super straight. I was surprised to see her as one of the first ones in and we swam around together and then back to the boat. People were still getting off but then we finally got back on, up the slippery ladder and into the slightly warmer outside air and sun. I dried off but kept my suit on as there was another opportunity to swim at our next stop. I love doing things like this, so it was a lot of fun.

It wasn’t a long cruise to the next stop, an inhabited island with most of the town on the hill, but several restaurants and souvenir shops down at the water level. The guide said the walkway up to the top of the hill had 175 long steps, and most of the people either commuted out to work just for the day while the tourists came by or walked down from the hill. We pulled into the harbor and docked, and we were delayed getting off by Cecelia going to the bathroom. We walked to the right and past the first restaurant. One of the others had nice seats by the water and fast service. The food was good (local mussels) and we had a nice stop. Now the search for the swimming area! We walked through all the regular businesses, and then past the houses and there were some places you could get into the water off the walkway and over some rocks. I got my goggles on and waded in. It was cold, but not too bad, and it was interesting. The caldera blew up undersea as well, so only a few feet from shore the bottom dropped out of sight. There were not many fish, but it was fun getting in again.

I went right in the bathroom on the boat again and changed. Now we had different seats on the opposite side of the boat for the final cruise. We went over near Oia and then along the coast past Fira and to the port. It was still beautiful and a day well spent. We waited a little while for a smaller bus back and had a nice, calm ride.

We left for dinner later than usual, heading to the restaurant from our first night to be there for their traditional Greek night. The inside of the restaurant was reserved, so we sat by the beach again. It as a nice meal, but the traditional part was a bit disappointing. There were two singers with guitars along with a small crew of dancers. They mostly danced in circles, sometimes with customers. We finally got done and left, but then they started dancing with fire on the floor, so we watched a little longer. We stopped at the gelato place from the first night, but the hot girl was gone and a grumpy old man was there instead.

FRIDAY: That night’s sleep was a little better and I asked for a later breakfast so I could sleep more. I ran along the beach again. It was looking like a very nice day. After breakfast, Carlie and Cecelia went shopping and I did a hike. I wanted to go up to the little church on the cliffs above town. The owner said it was a tough hike, especially the last 100m, but nice. He had never been able to make it up.

I wasn’t sure what it would be like, but it could have been hard. It was not too bad. I had to walk to the end of town in that corner, then tried to figure out what trail. There was a guy and a little girl there setting up a stand that takes people up the trail to Ancient Thira on donkeys, where we had driven inadvertently on Wednesday afternoon. I started up the correct trail and came to a place where an arrow pointed right and left. I thought there might be two routes to the church, so I went to the left. I was up the hill about 200 meters when I realized this trail went all the way to the top. It didn’t look too bad. I went back down and then to the right of the arrow and was on the trail only a short way until I came to s steep set of stairs. It was fairly hard going up therm, but only a for a minute, and I was there at the church.. It was truly small, but the views were nice. It had only been 25 minutes with some delays, so I thought I might as well go to the top.

That didn’t take much longer and wasn’t too hard. I arrived at the top, walking up by the little stand where a guy had been when we were there before. He had snacks and drinks for sale. There were now a bunch of cars parked there, and I found to my relief that cars were indeed allowed up there, but we had come up on Wednesday when the Ancient Thira is closed! I walked up now to see what the deal was and it was 6E to get in. There were people living all the way up on this hill about 3700 years ago! Where did they get water? I didn’t take a brochure and should have, as there was much more than I was aware of. The views were even nicer from the ruins and there were a few people around. I walked around a little and then headed down. There was a whole part of the ruins I didn’t get to see.

Above ius the church part of the walk, and below is the Ancient Thira part.

The walk down was easy and I explored other semi-ruins, and that made it take longer, but I was still back in well under 2 hours. I hung out at the hotel, reading in different places. The girls came back and we got ready for lunch. They wanted to go the restaurant at the end of our little business district and then spend the afternoon at the beach there. It was nice and had a very different menu - lots of crepes. I got a savory vegetable crepe and a sweet cherry one. They were huge and hard to finish. I didn’t get in the water and tried to read.

For our last night, we went to a place called Black Beach which had vegan options. Everything was really good and we all got a Fanta Lemonade. We got our daily ice cream and walked to the end of the concrete area along the breach and mountainside. It wasn’t that nice, and there were weird people around. But we got a view of the town at sunset, which was nice (the sunsets on Santorini are famous, but mostly on the western side of the island, especially from Oia).

SATURDAY: I ran 6 miles around town and stopped for more pull-ups, but someone had taken the rocks away that helped me reach the bar Thursday, and I hurt my abs trying to jump up and hang with my sweaty hands. The owners let us stay until 4:30, so we did the hike to the church together in the morning. Carlie went up like a champ. After we got back, I got some souvenirs and then we rested a bit before lunch. It wasn’t all that memorable, and neither was the rest of the afternoon. They came just on time and got us there early. Our flight out was fine, no screaming kids, and no hassle with luggage, but we missed the shuttle to the hotel and had to take a taxi. Our hotel was only 11 minutes from the airport, and we had a nice room. I slept on a cot and the girls had a big bed. The bathroom was really nice with a bidet (I am not impressed). We had a good meal at the restaurant and got to bed early. I woke up at 5 and the girls around 5:30 and we headed down for the shuttle. No hassles there, but also hassles checking in, getting sent to wrong lines, and it was crowded. The flight to London was fine, and no issues at Heathrow except we left really late after the pilot said we were leaving early. We still got to Newark on time and through customs, passport and shuttle to the lot. The drive home was also good, and the girls left after a quick pit stop and to get their keys. It was a super fun trip.

WRAP UP: Greece is a lovely and interesting country with importance especially in western history. It is not as nice as Italy, Spain and France, but it is still worth a visit. I would recommend going for longer than a week and going to several islands. I found out only after the fact that most of the larger islands have airports, so you need not spend many hours on ferry boats. Some of them, like Santorini, can take direct flights to and from multiple European hubs, including Heathrow. Everything is cheap there (except petrol) , and rental cars are a bargain, though they are usually manual transmission. If someone can drive a stick, you should rent a car and drive around the islands rather than try public transport if you have more than two people in your party. It is also probably better to go when it is warmer. Some of the activities do not happen (kayaking and snorkeling, for instance) until the water warms up. I am sorry I do not know when that is. It was surprisingly cool there in May, but also not very crowded. Definitely go to the Acropolis - it is an absolute must (though better to go early and get your tickets online - they load right on your phone), and I would stay right downtown in Athens, but only allow two days maximum there, then get to the rest of the country. People have told me the city tours of Athens are worth it, but I suspect they take a lot of time.

The Cast: Carlie Mills: Carlie graduated from Kutztown University in 2020, then went immediately into graduate school for social work and is working now for Geisinger just a short walk from her home. She was very easy to travel with, did well with the walking required, and was not picky. Cecelia Hough: Cecilia graduated a semester early in December of 2022 from the University of Maryland with a degree in History. She will start graduate school soon. She is taller than I am and was also easy to travel with and a good sport. I liked she was a vegetarian! They both pose well for photos and don’t need much fussing.

https://youtu.be/qm9mVfjTQMM

Acadia 2022: Hiking Test

I had never been to Acadia. In 1996 I started up there for a weekend and one of the cylinders in my car went out, so I turned around about an hour into the trip. There was another time I was in Maine where the weather was bad a weekend I thought about going. So, it has always been in the back of my mind since. I have a friend, Ray Douglas, who went on a great trip to hike in Wales with me in 2018, and he goes to Acadia almost every year.

So, I had a week in September free because of staffing issues at the office, and I wasn’t feeling traveling by air anywhere due to all the trouble with airports and lost bags, especially going to Europe. So, maybe a road trip to Acadia would be workable. Once I decided on a hotel in Bar Harbor, I worked on the rest. Since I was driving up through Connecticut, it gave me a chance to see my friend, Rayna Fisher McLaughlin, whom I haven’t seen for 4 or 5 years, and who got married this year. I got that arranged, then set up a night’s stay at my sister, Jennifer’s, in Framingham, MA.

Getting there: I left on Saturday morning, the 10th, and made it to Old Saybrook a little after 1. Rayna and I had a nice lunch at a good restaurant and then walked around the historic area where there were remnants of a fort. I was right on time at Jennifer’s, and she made a nice meal of cauliflower gnocchi and a dark chocolate dessert. Shaun, her husband of nearly 34 years, has set up a porch man cave with three TVs, and we watched the US Open tennis and college football until bedtime.

I did a 4.5 mile run Sunday and then left. The plan in my head was to drive to Portland, where I had only been briefly twice before, to get lunch somewhere, then to take the coastal route, Rt. 1. I found my way to the downtown and waterfront area of Portland. It is free to park on the street there Sundays, so I did, and I walked around for about 90 minutes, during which I also had a nice lunch at the bar of a place I have since forgotten. It was good, especially the local ginger beer.

I got back in the car and found Rt 1. It was a nice route, going through a bunch of small towns, including Freeport, the home of L.L. Bean and the location of many tourists. I didn’t stop, but looked around in Rockport (pretty, especially the hotel over the harbor), Thomaston and Camden (nice old homes). I arrived in Belfast, ME just before 4pm. I had a nice hotel room with a deck within sight of the sea. It was about $90 less to stay there than Bar Harbor and I could still drive in from there Monday morning for a long hike before checkin. I had a big dinner at a local restaurant and a good night’s sleep. I ran back into Belfast on the main road Monday morning, which was good enough.

ACADIA

This national park deserves its reputation as a hiking mecca. There are over 100 miles of trails for cycling and hiking, and some of them are quite challenging. I have hiked all over the world, and have been in some of the most scenic places. Acadia is certainly nice, with views of islands and shorelines, but it doesn’t come close to a place like Yosemite, not even to a run of the mill area in New Zealand. Its trails, however, are rugged. There are few “normal” trails, where animals may have walked over the centuries and then humans have cleared brush and removed rocks, creating an easy to follow path. There are also few switchbacks to get up the steeps. At Acadia, the trails climb up the rockfalls created by gravity over centuries. A day of hiking is spent scrambling, crawling, and stepping over rocks, boulders, and roots, both up and down. The trail map I bought at the visitor center helpfully includes the percent grades along the routes. The easier ones are 10% or so, with the 20+% rough.

In addition to being rough and rocky, the trails were poorly marked. The “blazes” were small 2x3 inch blue marks on rocks and slightly bigger blue boxes on an occasional tree. On the large, bare rock areas, of which there were many, there were cairns to help some. At trail junctions, there were small wooden poles with directional signs often very hard to read. The poor markings and rugged routes made it slow going most of the time.

It was not that crowded. Most of the trails were easy to pass people on. The weather was good. Monday and Wednesday were warm and sunny, near 80 degrees. Tuesday rain was called for in the afternoon, but I was able to get the hike in before it started. You did not want to be going up and down on granite that was wet. Thursday and Friday were cooler and sunny, with a brisk wind.

The Bard of Acadia: I managed to do a lot of hiking by myself. I would catch up to people and occasionally utter a witticism or two. The best: I was really moving on a long hike on Wednesday when I caught up to a group of three men and three women walking in single file with the men at the rear. The last man in the group let me by, and the other men did as well, but the women were oblivious. I continued behind the last woman, and she started to take off one of her shirts while she was walking. Finally, one of the guys called to her, saying her name and that there was a man behind her trying to get through. She was completely surprised, so I looked back at the the men and said, loud enough for all to hear: “Women are always the last to notice a strange man following them.” They all laughed, and the woman in front of me said, “Maybe we want a strange man to follow us.” The man who had let me through said, “You have 4 strange men following you.” it was pretty funny. Another: on an uphill trail on Monday, I caught up to a man and two women. The women were talking loudly about something. He was following them and told them to stop and let me by. The loudest woman said, obviously, “You are going faster than we are. “ I said, “Well, I am not talking to anyone, so it is easier.” They all laughed, and the guy said, “I’m not talking to anyone and it’s not easy.” I said, “Someone has to listen.” Finally, I was coming down a rocky part when two women walked up. They were griping about the trail, and one said she couldn’t guess how much longer it was since the trails were so rough. It could take much longer than it should. I said, “Are you talking about Acadia math?” They looked a bit quizzical. I said, “The trails are so rough you can’t really guess how long they will take. I planned a three hour hike yesterday and it took 6 hours.” They laughed and agreed. “Acadia math. That is right.”

Bar Harbor

Bar Harbor is a cute little town. I stayed at the Port Inn in one corner. It was about a half mile walk to the restaurants and waterfront. There were quite a few restaurants, but many of them were booked in advance, and all of them were expensive. None of my meals was great, but the best was a seafood risotto, which had the only lobster I ate. I had seafood almost every night, but mostly crab. The running was nice, but all the paths only went so far. The first day I had the enjoyable discovery of a tidal path to the Bar Island just off the shore that is accessible at low tide. I ran across and around the trails on the island at the end of the run. There are lots of lovely old houses serving as inns and BnBs.

Getting around

The roads around the park are very confusing. Thank goodness for google maps - it got me most of the places, though the first day, I asked for “Echo Lake Parking area” and it gave me directions to Echo Lake in California. The absurdity made me laugh out loud when it warned that at several times I would have to cross into Canada and back!!! On Friday I got on the wrong road and had no idea. I finally pulled over and looked a the map and realized there were no directions to get to where I wanted to go. Most of the parking areas had no signs. So I was pleased to take advantage of the Island Adventures Shuttle, which ran out of the visitor center and the village green in Bar Harbor.. The good: no worries about parking; nice drivers with good info (usually); go to almost anywhere useful. The bad: don’t start until 9am; often run late; routes can take 90 minutes to get back to town. Wednesday it got me right where I needed to go, but for the return trip I couldn’t find the stop, and then the bus was over 15 minutes late, so I took a different one, and the bus I needed came right behind it. The bus I was on had one of those 90 minute routes, so I got off at the next stop and waited for another bus. I was eaten up by mosquitoes, getting 6 or 7 bites in less than 10 minutes, then got on another bus that went to the beach and back in 40 minutes. So, it took me almost 90 minutes to get back to the Village Green from a point just 5 minutes away. On Thursday it worked much better.

The Hikes:

Day 1: I drove from Belfast to the Acadia Visitor Center, which took about 90 minutes. The parking lot there is smaller than it should be considering a lot of people park there to catch the shuttles. I found one of the few spots, went to the bathroom and to the information counter. After a short wait I talked with an elderly lady. I told her I wanted to do the hardest routes, but I knew some would be crowded. She kept asking me what I was up for, and I finally said, “I could climb Mt. Everest today if I had to, so whatever is hard here.” She ended up giving me great advice. I got the best trail map that was water and tear resistant and left. After getting the GPS sorted, I had no trouble getting there, and there were so many parking spots I thought I was in the wrong place. It was Echo Lake, which is one of the few lakes or ponds one can swim in there, as many are used for drinking water. There was a man using the bathroom while carrying around a screaming toddler. Sigh. I started right out on one of the toughest routes, the Beech Cliffs Trail (anything with “Cliffs” in the name at Acadia is going to be tough and likely have some metal rungs and ladders on it). I was introduced quickly to the rocky paths and was out there pretty much alone. The ladders were easy, though they are not as easy to get off, usually only going as high as the cliff. I got to the top quickly and then went on some side trails that eventually got me to the fire station at the top, with some OK views. From there I went down the other side and around another pond, eventually climbing back up via a different route and missing a turn, arriving back at the top of the Beech Cliffs. I got back on the trail I’d just done and found the connector and got down to the parking lot about 4-4.5 hours later. It was a good introduction to the area without dealing with crowds.

Day 2: I thought about trying the shuttle, but I thought it would be better in the end to drive to give me more flexibility about getting back if the weather got bad. I drove to the Bubbles Parking lot, and I got the last spot there (!!). The Bubbles are a pair of smaller peaks close to Jordan Pond. I went up the South Bubble just a few minutes after getting there, and then went down the “Divide.” Mistake. It was very steep and rocky and hard on my knees, but I eventually made it (I took it upon myself to dissuade as many people as possible from going up it). I met more people walking around Jordan Pond, which is one of the easier hikes, and then decided to try Sargent Mt. The trail there was much like the Divide: very rocky and steep. I made it up to the areas of bare granite so common in Acadia, and, just as I did, clouds drifted in and took away most of the visibility. It got windy as well. I went a little farther but then thought the better of it and went back down. I did not want to try to go down those rocks if they were wet. I missed the peak and a possibly easier route down by not going on. I thought I might call it a day and head back, but then I saw the signs for Penobscot Mt and went up that. My calf started to hurt then and I turned around, but it started to feel better, so I went on up it. There I saw the first of many unleashed dogs (clearly states everywhere dogs must be on a close leash) for the week and evidence of “Bros.” But it was also socked it with clouds. After that ascent and descent, I was feeling a little tired, so I took what I thought was an easy trail across the ridge. I had made another wrong turn, though, and had gotten on the Jordan Cliffs trail. Mistake #2 that day. It was being worked on, so I passed a few workers, and then saw a sign about danger, cliffs, etc. I wasn’t going back past those guys, so I went ahead. It would not be that hard coming from the other direction, but the way I did it had me going down all the ladders and steep parts, all of them blind and hard to get down to. I was frazzled at times, but I kept going and got past the worst of it when I came on a nice young couple. He was helping her over an obstacle, and after she got over it, we talked a bit. She was a beautiful young woman, and I warned them of what was to come, and then we parted ways. There were some tricky parts, but it wasn’t as bad. I warned all the folks coming the other way how difficult it was and then found what I thought was another connector around a lake. Of course, I was wrong again, but I figured it out, went back down to Jordan Pond and around the other side and took the easier trail to the parking lot. This day was also between 4 and 4.5 hours of hiking and it was pretty challenging overall.

Day 3: I thought I might do an easier hike that didn’t take as long. At least that was the plan, but Acadia math took over once I started. I did take the shuttle from the Village Green, which was a half mile walk from my hotel room. Mostly old people there, but it got me right to the trail head. I didn’t want to go up Cadiullac Mountain in the morning, so I took the easier looking Kebo Trail to the Gorge trail, and these were both nice, normal hiking trails that were relatively flat with good footing. There was an old man with a white beard running on the Gorge Trail and as he approached, I said, “This looks like one of the few trails that would be nice to run.” He gruffly agreed and snorted past. I wanted to make my way to the Ladder Trail, which had a reported 41% grade, so I went down the Hemlock Trail, which was rocky but not steep, to the Jesup and then on that past the Sieur de Mont area. It was a nice, touristy area with gardens and some buildings to tour. The trails around it were all easy. I got to the Vann Trail, which went on one side of a pond, and it turned into yet another rock scramble/bouldering path that was very hard to follow (It was, in fact, completely unmarked). I was unsure at one point and started looking for markers when a man walked up. I asked him if I was on the trail, and, without stopping, he assured me I was and kept going at a rapid pace. I did not try to, but he would have been a challenge to keep up with. Eventually I got to the intersection with the Ladder Trail, which had the usual warning signs, and I started up. It wasn’t bad at all until it was. Narrow, steep rock stairs - i could easily touch the steps in front of my chest as my feel climbed the ones below most of the time. No one was there, and I got used to the exertion and kept moving with occasional few second breaks to catch my breath. I finally caught an older man who climbed off the trail to lie on a rock and rest. I saw a few people coming down, which would not have been fun. From the end of that there were bare rocks and scrambles up to the top of Dorr Mt. From there the view was ok, with Cadillac Mt., the highest peak in the park, to one side, and the water on the other. I vacillated a bit on what to do. It was already nearly 3 hours. I thought I could cross to Cadillac Mt and then go back to the parking lot in about 45 minutes (Acadia math - way off), and I thought that would be too easy. So I decided to go down Dorr Mt and catch another trail through the valley to Cadillac Mt and back, as the trail to get to the southern approach to Cadillac Mt was pretty rough looking. The path down Dorr Mt was lots of bare rocks, and it took much longer than I thought. The bottom was very rough and poorly marked, and I missed the turn to the valley trail. The trail I was on was disheartening. It seemed to go right up a dry waterfall - lots of steep bare granite, poor markings, very frustrating. I kept going and going, not aware even of what trail I was on. I still had hopes I was on the trail through the valley, but then I came to the Cadillac Mt. south trail. I still had a long way to go! But I ate some things then and it seemed to help, and I got a surge of energy as I started passing people. It wasn’t bad at all to get to the top. I took a few pictures and then started down. I passed a ranger talking to some folks, and then she caught up to me. I talked to her about the trail markings and how poor they were, and she agreed. She passed me, but then I realized I needed to rush to catch the 3pm bus. I was blowing down the rocky terrain and passed her again while she was talking to someone. I was surprised how long it took me even though I was going so quickly. I got to the road by the trailhead at about 3:05, when the bus should come. I knew I was supposed to walk farther to the next road and connector, but I was sure the bus should come by there, and I could wave it down. I turned left and went down the hill to the intersection, and still no bus. It was about 3:15 and I was getting riled up. I walked back up to the trailhead and , as I did, another shuttle went by for the loop road. I didn’t have time to think it out; I ran (literally) up to it as it stood idling and got on. I asked the driver a question about the sand beaches stop and he was unhelpful, so I sat down. Just as we pulled out the correct bus drove by us! Now it was ahead of us, so there was no way I could get on it. It went off on another turn and we went to Sieur de Mont, where I got off to wait for another option, since that bus would not get back to the village green for another 70 minutes. There was sign for the buses and none were coming for 30 minutes. So I paid a few dollars to go into the gardens and walk around. But then I saw a bench and decided to sit for a bit, since I hadn’t rested at all since getting off the bus at 9:05. Within two minutes I had several fresh mosquito bites, and then a bus pulled up. I ran out of the garden in time to see it pull away, but it wasn’t one I wanted. Obviously, the sign wasn’t correct, and 6 minutes and 5 more bites later, I saw another bus pull in. I took that one to sand beach and then a special bus came in right away to go back to the village green, but I still didn’t make it until almost 4:30!

Day 4: I thought I would be tired after that long hike, but I felt fine. I was worried about the Beehive, which was the hike I felt I should do. I’d heard it was very hard and scary. I didn’t want to be so tired I struggled on it. I got ready and took the shuttle to the Sand Beach stop, which was right across the road from the Beehive trailhead. I walked over and started up the trail. I was all alone. I was wondering still what to do when I got to the split in the trail where the easier way up is to the left and the Beehive to the right. There were a few people milling around, including some out of shape looking people who started up the Beehive. I said to myself, “Don’t be ridiculous - you will be in better shape and handle this better than anyone up there now.” I took a few steps to the trail and heard a woman to my left tell her friends she was going to do it and would meet them at the top. I waited for her and asked if she’d done it before, and she told me no. She looked in her 40s, with dark, tightly curly hair and a nice smile, fit, and I said to her, “Neither have I. Let’s do it together.” She agreed. So we chatted as we worked our way up the steep rocks to the cliffs. She was from Mechanicsburg, PA, and knew one of the doctors I’d worked with there long ago. We came to the first testy area and had to wait on a ledge. Finally we moved, but some brassy women caught up behind us. There were three women in front of us, two younger girls in their 20s, I would guess, and their mom in her 50s, with some gray hair. They were weak and over-matched. At the toughest spot, a ladder series, the brassy women started yelling at them to get out of the way and let us through, that they were holding everyone up. I didn’t think that was very nice, but they moved aside and I zipped up both ladders and around a few turns and we were at the top. I felt like Launcelot at the Bridge of Death after he answered the Keeper’s easy questions and was allowed to pass. I even said, like Sir Robin, “That’s easy!” My new friend and I found the Bowl trail and took it to where her friends were. We chatted briefly and I went on. From there I found my way to the top of Gorham Mt., which had some nice views and started down. At one junction I saw a sign for the Cadillac Cliffs trail. A woman was standing there and she said it was hard, with three ladders, and I would be going down the ladders if I went that way. I didn’t want another Jordan Cliffs experience, so I walked to the other end of what looked like a short trail (it wasn’t that short), and started back up it. It was a good test, lots of boulders and scrambling, but only three rungs, not three ladders. I met my two friends on that trail as well, with the pretty girl recognizing me right away (we actually met earlier that day as well, but not sure where - might have been on Gorham’s peak). We talked about the Jordan Cliffs and the Beehive, and they said the Precipice was much harder than the Beehive and just as scary. It was funny to see them again and to remember how beautiful she was. I pressed on and then did the same trail back to the bottom, where I found my way to the Ocean path and walked on that for a while until I came to a lovely set of boulders and rocks along the coast, the famous pink granite rocks. I went onto them and sat down to eat my lunch. It was the first time I sat down on any hike other than to slide on my butt for a few seconds. I got out an energy bar and started on it, keeping my eye on a seagull that was moving a bit closer every minute. I only lasted there long enough to eat that bar and take a few photos, and then I was on my way back to Sand Beach. It took a while, and then I crossed that, eating my energy bars as I walked, and did the trails on Great Head, which were surprisingly rough before crossing the beach and getting a bus to the Village Green. That day was 3.5 to 4 hours, but I was done and back early enough to walk around the business district, which is right next to the Village Green. I got two scoops of ice cream and then looked for souvenirs. I couldn’t find anything useful, but then I saw a bake shop on my way back and got a huge maple whoopie pie and a smoothie, which hit the spot after the ice cream.

Day 5: I had to pack up and leave after the last night in my hotel, and I wanted to be to the Precipice trail relatively early to try to beat the crowds but also parked in a place that made my exit as easy as possible. A little after 8am, I drove down the wrong road initially and had to back track and then get on the correct one (honestly, the lack of signs is terrible - it is like they don’t want people to know where to go). I found my goal: a parking lot along the main loop road outside the park from which I could access a trail that would take me to the trail head of the Precipice trail, the crown jewel of Acadia hiking and notorious all over. I had to walk maybe 200m on the side of the road, and there was not much traffic (all one way coming from behind me). I found the little trail I needed, poorly marked, and went down it. It looked like it might be a tough downhill at first, but it wasn’t, and the trail it connected with was very easy and right along a road. I finally came to the Precipice trail sign and went up that short trail to the parking lot. I was a little nervous, but bolstered by my confidence from the day before. There was no one around. I started up the trail, which is never easy. It has some tough boulders and rocks before you get to the cliffs. I started catching people then who were resting. A group of young people caught up while I was talking to two young women, but they did not want to go past me. I used that as motivation and did the rest of it very fast, with only a few short pauses to catch some breath. I got by a few more people, including an older guy who was elated at how much he loved the challenge. We took photos of each other before he let me go on. It is a much longer and harder hike than the Beehive and equally as dangerous, but I was soon at the top. I really didn’t have much trouble. You have to think a bit at every obstacle, but I never had any struggles or slips. The top was pretty and I took some photos there of a couple, and they of me, and then I headed down the trail that would take me back to my car. A younger woman caught me and walked with me, chatting about other hikes and eventually getting some stories from Africa out of me. We split up when I went to my car, and she walked back to the Precipice lot to meet her friends. The whole hike took a little over 2 hours. I saw her as I drove by. I was able to turn left before the entry points and drive back to town, past the visitor center and on the road.

The return trip was not bad. Lots of traffic the other way. This time I took interstates there and stopped to get some gas and had some snacks. I got to Jennifer’s about 5pm, and we ordered takeout from an El Salvadoran restaurant nearby (good). it was a quiet evening. I ran 5 miles in the morning and then headed off, stopping in Newport, RI, the first time I have been to that state. The city is pretty and has lovely coastal views, but it was super crowded for an auto show and bike race. I again ate snacks in the car and made it back to Bethlehem about 5pm. My little hybrid did great. I got close to 70mpg the whole trip up and around 63mpg on the way back (I drove faster and there were steady headwinds).

Trip Summary: Acadia is a rugged hiking destination in the Northeast, probably the only one like it on the east coast. It is fairly remote yet popular, but still has quiet areas and some decent scenery. I doubt I will go back, but the trip went well, and I got a lot done every day. I did all the hardest hikes with a certain elan that assured me I was not “losing it” after all these years of working out.

Hiking the Swiss Alps (With a Shocking Twist!)

I had to burn my last bit of vacation time for the fiscal year ending in mid June, so I worked out with my office the best time would be the week before Memorial Day. I only had a few weeks to schedule something and lots of possibilities came and went. I had hiking in Switzerland near the top of the list, but it looked less likely, and then it was the best option. I booked a trip through Exodus International, who appears to contract through Headwaters in the UK for this schedule: 6 days of hiking, all from the town of Kandersteg, staying in the same hotel the whole week, with all meals included. What could go wrong?

Here are the links to the youtube videos:

the slideshow: https://youtu.be/P_bqJF4pqNA (great photos, with my commentary and Andrew O’Rourke soundtrack)

The video: https://youtu.be/wzJl0b4P2nY (less than 10 min video, roaring rapids, great views, commentary and soundtrack).

The DRAMA!: I have had plenty of things happen to me traveling, but there were way too many things to deal with on this one. 1. I booked my incoming flight the wrong day! I thought I booked it for the 20th of May, to arrive the 21st, and didn’t notice until a week before I was to leave I had booked it the 21st, to arrive the 22nd! I couldn’t believe it. I guess somehow the dates got changed in the Orbitz search without me noticing, as the flight schedule was perfect for me to work the 20th and get to the airport. Exodus would not refund the money for the first night’s stay (the contract I signed said no refunds for travel problems). 2. I LOST MY WALLET! I had just paid for the train tickets from the Zurich Airport station to Kandersteg. There were three train changes, with one of the trains leaving right away. I rushed down to the platform and then had to wait a few minutes. I got on an almost empty car with a guy from the US and sat by myself, never taking my backpack off and sitting awkwardly in the seats. I jumped up and hurried off the train to get out and try to get something to eat before the connecting train. I had to go up an escalator with a few people, but no one near me. I wandered around and went into a deli type place. I ordered a tofu salad and while they heated it, I reached for my wallet and it wasn’t there! I searched everywhere 50 times, feeling that sense of dread and failure everyone has felt at a time like that. It was horrible. Gone. I frantically rushed around the station to find an information booth to try to figure out if I could go back to the Airport to look or find the other train I’d been on, but there was NOTHING! Switzerland, so disorganized! I ran up and down a bunch of steps to various platforms looking for my prior train, which I thought didn’t leave for another ten minutes, but I could not remember the track. I finally found a tourist information office after about an hour, and they told me there was a lost and found office outside and around the back of the station. I went back there, and there was one guy by himself in a warehouse like room. He called the Airport station to see if anyone found it, and they had not. He gave me a paper with the web address and phone number to make a claim. 3. I PUT OUT A FIRE in a garbage can at the Zurich main station! I was walking back to try to find the next train to Bern and noticed smoke coming out of one of the trash bins: three different containers attached. The one burning was the regular trash. I looked around for someone to report it, and there was not an employee in sight. I took my nalgene water bottle, with the only sustenance I had now that I was walletless, poured about a third of it into the bin, and the fire stopped. 4. Allergies/Injuries: Before a hiking trip, I try to be fit but not injured, yet I have repeatedly hurt myself within a week of departure. I was feeling fit and sturdy a week and half prior to this and had been lifting weights harder than usual, sprinting faster than years, and then I woke up with a with sore back that only got tighter. It was the worst my back has ever hurt. I could barely get through the day for two days, but then it eased and I was able to join some of my family for a weekend of work at our summer house. On the next Monday, my calf suddenly twinged while doing a slow jog to test out my back. I had to walk back. I took a few days off and tried again - couldn’t even run two miles. The Wednesday before I left I noticed a severe itch on my left calf. I pulled up my pant leg at lunch and I had a terrible red rash on my calf that looked like shingles or a contact dermatitis, with the latter more likely due to the long, thin steaks on part of it. I was also getting multiple bug bites a night in my apartment after they put screens on my sliding doors to my balcony that Monday. So I was dealing with all of this before I left. Then, the Monday after I got there, my nose started to be super congested and runny. I could hardly sleep despite nasal spray, and Tuesday it ran all night. I thought it was allergies due to the abundance of tall grass in the lovely meadows all around, something I am allergic to. Then, on Thursday, after a long day of hiking, I started to feel tired and achy. It was likely the combination of sleep deprivation and stress, but I felt a need to at least check for covid since several patients had terrible runny noses. The hotel was kind enough to find a test kit on a national holiday, and it was negative. 5. I was locked out when I got back at 11:15pm after a long day of travel! Before I left, the lock had not been closing properly, but when I got back the door would not open at all! I had my key card in my lost wallet, but the office had sent me a special code to get in. The door tried to open but wouldn’t, and it did the same thing with the codes the on call service guy gave me. He had to come in and could not get it opened! Finally he got a bag of keys that are the back up to the back up and on the 7th try found the right one and I was in. At 12:15am. Beat. 6. The Weather: As the trip approached, I was checking the weather at least daily. Rain was forecast every day. The on the day of departure, for two of the days the weather changed to SNOW and sub-freezing temps in the town, heaven knows in the mountains. I packed all kinds of extra layers and traction devices, only to find two hours later than it was back to rain only. The week itself was fine. It rained when I got there, briefly during the first hike, was gloomy one whole day (I found a way out), and not on any others. Sigh.

Bright Spots: 1. The people I hiked with were fantastic company and excellent people. One of them loaned m a large sum of money and bought my return train tickets as well as tickets to get to another area to hike on the rainy Tuesday. All I could give them was a dose of my charisma and story telling, and they took to it like a dream. They referred to our dinners at the “Terry Show,” laughing at all my best stories. One of the Davids had a very impish sense of humor, and we played off each other like old pros. 2. The loss of my wallet made me reach out to others much more. It made the trip better in a sense, as I was touched again and again by the sincere kindness of almost everyone I came across. People are awesome when they see someone in need of help. 3. Switzerland is stunning. The steep cliffs tower over everywhere, many still with snow all over. The rushing water was the soundtrack to every moment. As I say in the videos and slideshow, the water in Switzerland is in a hurry to get everywhere. 4. The FOOD. The restaurant in the hotel, Nico’s, was very good, and they had excellent vegetarian meals every night. Usually 4 courses, though not very large portions (I lost about 4 pounds for the trip). The breakfast buffet was also quite good. Could have used more soy milk.

Funny Moments: 1. PARKING! I paid in advance to park at a hotel near the Newark Airport, the Wyndham. If you’ve ever driven around at Newark, it is a crazy maze of on and off ramps, and I missed the hotel the first time as it was only a narrow entrance along a fence (I had taken a wrong turn before getting to that point as well). When I finally got back again, I rushed to the office to get whatever I needed to keep my car there. There was a lot of construction, and it was very noisy, with a gang of bikers out in the entrance way and a wedding reception. My car didn’t lock right, either. I got the thing to put in the window after a lot of waiting and rushed out trying to catch the 6pm shuttle. My car wouldn’t lock after I got my bags out! I was shouting and using what little profanity comes out of my mouth for several minutes before finally realizing, in my rush to get out the first time, I had not turned off the engine! Thank goodness I realized it or I would have come back to a total mess! Of course, as I rushed back, the shuttle left, and I had to stand around in all the noise of the bikers and loud guests. Never again parking there. It was hard to get out and back on 78 from there as well. I also had to wait 35 minutes for the shuttle to pick me up at the airport when I got back. 2. When I arrived in Kandersteg, penniless and stressed, I had to walk from the train station to the hotel. Exodus was going to charge me 10 Francs for a taxi, but I didn’t do it in advance. It turned out to be a half mile walk, manageable, but within minutes of starting, the clouds darkened and a thunderstorm rolled in! I took cover and then moved out again when it slowed, only to have to run for cover again in a minute as it started to HAIL! All in a 10 minute walk pulling my bag! Welcome to Kandersteg! Then there was no one at reception when I checked in. I found some papers on their desk with my name on them and the key, managed to get the elevator to take me to the 4th floor to my room, locked my credit cards and submitted my lost and found request for my wallet before going to dinner. 3. The funniest event, at least to me, took place Tuesday, after my hike. That day we had taken a train through tunnels to the other side of the mountains as we heard the weather might be better there, and it was. The hike was from one train station to another, over ten miles. When I found the train station to leave from, there was no one around, and the station itself was tiny. There were two tracks, with a small station on each side. The track I arrived nearest looked like it was going the other way, so I crossed under through a tunnel and waited on the other side, which had a nice bathroom and a bench but little else. I pushed a button I noticed to let the train know it should stop there and had a snack. It was about 3:20, and I was pleased with how I’d hustled to get there. The train went through once an hour, at 43 minutes past. At the correct time, I heard the train coming and got up to wait right long the edge of the platform in plain view. There it was, and it was …on the other track and stopped at the other side! As soon as I realized it, I sprinted back under the tunnel and up the ramp to the train. The first car wouldn’t open, so I went to the next one frantically, and it opened before the train left and I was able to get on! I was out of breath and had hurt my calf running, but it was worth it to not have to sit at that station another hour! I couldn’t stop laughing at how silly I felt, thinking I had done everything correctly. 4. After a long walk Wednesday, I’d heard nothing about my wallet, so I got online and cancelled my credit cards and ordered new ones. As soon as I got that done, I checked my email and I got one from the Train Lost and Found. They had my wallet! I regretted canceling the cards, but it was for the best - I got the cards activated on google pay before I left and used them on the trip back, and the wallet didn’t get back to me until two weeks after I got home, as Thursday was a national holiday and nothing happened with the wallet that day, so it arrived in Kandersteg 5 hours after I left. 5. On our way up the gondola for our Thursday hike, I saw the mountain roller coaster I’d seen mention of. I had to go on! David agreed to try it as well and paid for me. It was a siily ride, bumpy, not very fast and took a while to figure the brake, but I couldn’t stop smiling. My second mountain coaster! 6. On Thursday evening I was not feeling well, with a runny nose and some aches and fatigue. I was pretty sure it wasn’t covid, but just worried enough I talked to reception and they found me a kit. on the holiday(!). My nose was still running in epic fashion, so I kept blowing it before doing the test. Still, when I was sampling the left nostril, I couldn’t help but sneeze, and there was still an unbelievable amount of snot in me! It flew all over the instructions, my t-shirt, sweatpants and the floor!

THE HIKES: Monday: The Gasterntal and Klus Gorge: We rode a small minibus through town and then up a marvelous road along cliffs and through tunnels. It is supposed to be one way for about half of each hour and then the other way for the second half. We were dropped at a small restaurant. There were 6 people from Headwaters and me. We started up the hill to see the views, but turned around shortly. Two went on further. Two left us earlier and stopped for coffee at a small cafe a bit down from where we were dropped off. The hike, once we got going, took us down the trails following a glacial fed steam that roared the whole time. We passed through some beautiful meadows and entered the Klus Gorge, which was spectacular. We stopped for lunch short of a farm. While passing through the farm, we stopped to look at the cattle and goats. From there we were right along the roaring rapids until we came along the road again after crossing a shaky suspension bridge over a quite explosive set of rapids, I left the others (they walked back on the road) while I descended a steep section of steps and followed the water back to the main road to town. It started to rain for about twenty minutes during that part and then stopped.

Tuesday: The Sudrampe: It was a gloomy, drizzly day in Kandersteg. We had heard the day before that on days like this it was often much nicer on the other side of the mountains, an area we could reach by train through tunnels. David and Ethel went on a sight-seeing day to Zermatt, but he paid for my train ticket to the other side and we rode together. I planned to hike with two other members of the party, a mother and daughter from the UK, but they were way too slow, so I left them behind early. It was a great hike; most of it was spent on cliffs and ridges with sharp drop offs to the right, and there were a few bridges to walk on. It was on the trails used to build the train route on the hills above the Rhone River valley, including many longish tunnels. Part of it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I hurried to make the train back _ see funny stories. It was a lovely day there the whole time, but still cloudy and drizzly back in Kandersteg. The other two didn’t return until 3.5 hours after I did, having missed the train as I almost did.

Wednesday: The Allmenalp.
This was a gloomier day up high, but this hike seemed like the best plan. It was over a mile from the hotel to the cable car that takes you to the Allmenalp. I had paid in advance, and an older couple from the UK was also going up. They had been there before and wanted to go across through a high pass and walk back down. Once up there (it was a short but pretty ride, going up at a steep angle), it was warmer than I thought it would be, so I switched out some layers, letting them get ahead. Once I got rolling I passed them and followed a 4 wheel drive track to the high country, passing a small lodging. From there a faint trail carried on up the hill. I was trying to get to the clouds, but they seemed to recede. I passed two women, looked like a mother and a daughter, resting. It was entirely uphill from the cable car, a good test of anyone’s fitness. From them I went to where the trail crossed into a snowfield before disappearing into the clouds. I didn’t feel like walking in the wet snow, so I started down, stopping to chat again with the women about what I’d seen (they decided to try to cross over the snow). They took a few photos of me and I took some of them before we parted. The walk down was only interesting for a possible alternate route that looked like I would have to cross a rapidly flowing stream, so I went back the way I came, meeting a couple who’d tried it from the other side and gave up. I went up a little way on the way they’d come down, and then walked all the way back to town along a very long route. This was the longest of all the hikes. Some of it was along a mountain bike race course, and that followed another loud, roaring stream.

Thursday: Daubensee. Daubensee is one of the prettiest alpine lakes in Switzerland. I rejoined the group, at least the two Davids, Lynette, and Ethel. We walked through town and then on a walkway. There was a nice old church along that way, so we stopped there and took a quick tour. It was not too far to the gondola that took us up to the plateau. We had also paid in advance for this. As we got near the top, I saw the mountain roller coaster. I got excited and it rubbed off on David Walker, so as soon as we got off, we walked over and he paid for both of us to do it. I got on a sled in front of him, and it took me up a hill, like a regular roller coaster. There was a dad and a child in front of me, so I gave them a good lead and then started down. It didn’t go very fast, but I eventually figured out I had to push the brake down to my feet to get it completely off. The metal tube was not that smooth, but it was still fun and not very intense. Kid friendly, not like one I did in the Canadian Rockies. From there we walked on the main trail. I think there was a higher, harder one, but we missed it. We arrived at the lake, and the rest wanted to sit a spell, so I went out the trail partway up the slope from the lake to the end on that side (not an easy hike at all!), where there was a lovely view from a meadow with rocks to sit on to eat. That trail went on up to some restaurants and then on to mountain huts, more or less as far as one wanted to walk. That had been enough for me, since I was going to walk all the way back down. I stopped by the lake shore, and then walked down the fairly steep road and trails to the village. I felt sorry for all the people trudging up that trail to try to get to the lake. It would be a rough go, and the children especially looked miserable, though no one seemed to be enjoying themselves. I was surprised to come across my group on the way down, and David and Lynette and I went the rest of the way together. This was where I started to feel tired and achy.

Friday: Blausee. I was on my own again. I tried to run in the morning and did a little better, but still not well. This hike was the shortest, only 10k, down trails from the village to a very touristy lake. It was a nice walk on a lovely day. I stayed at the lake only long enough to eat and take a few photos. They “organically” raise trout in the lake. It has a network of trails, but they don’t amount to much. I had passed on a more challenging hike because the guidebook said it would not be open yet due to snow, but the mother and daughter from the UK went up there and had a nice day.

The trip back via trains was fine and easy. The flight back was not crowded and relaxed. Of course, Newark had only 4 people checking passports, so hundreds were waiting in line and it took over 40 minutes to get through that, then 35 minutes for the hotel shuttle to pick me up. I ended up having to pay $95US to get my wallet shipped, getting back $143, but then I found out all my calls and data use cost almost $200. Sigh.

I hope you will comment and subscribe!!

Epic Antarctica Trip, 12/19/2021-01/06/2022

It is hard to believe it has been nearly two years since a travel blog post. This one is one of my longest trips to a place where I did not work as a doctor. I will try to make it as user friendly as possible, but the temptation is there to make it very long and detailed, as so many thing happened, both bad and good, in the days before and during the trip.

Summary: I booked the trip at the relative last minute, in early November, as Delta Covid was on the wane, and I realized they were doing cruises this year. It was very difficult to find affordable flights, and the cruise was pretty expensive. I got there, got on the boat without covid, and made it through the rough first night at sea with pretty bad seasickness. Antarctica was so beautiful and haunting, a fantastic place of awe and wonder. The firsts for me: Orcas, snowshoeing, kayaking in ice, mountaineering, penguins in the wild, seasickness, a whale coming up while I was in the rubber boat, covid precautions at sea, and camping on ice and snow. Goals I didn’t meet: kayaking with whales around, pullups in Antarctica. Then I had a tough trip back.

Technical details: The cruise was with the same company I cruised the Arctic in June of 2017 around Svalbard: Oceanwide, and on the same ship, the Plancius. It sailed from Ushuaia, a city in Argentinian Patagonia on Tierra del Fuego, apparently the southernmost city in the world. It is not easy to get to Ushuaia, especially not in covid times; flights usually go through Buenos Aires, and the main airline, Aerolineas Argentinas, made nothing easy (see the end summary 2). If I had it to do over again, I would do it through a travel agent based in the US, as I had multiple flights canceled and rescheduled with lots of aggravation and extra expenditures. I also stayed at a pretty bad hotel in Ushuaia. I used the Hotel Clasico in Buenos Aires, which was nice enough and very helpful online. I was able to arrange a car to take me to the hotel and booked the night of my arrival in the early morning through them directly. It is in the Palermo area of the city, near many parks and green spaces, which were nice for my run and walks on the two days I was there. The Hotel Monaco in Ushuaia was cheap for the night I needed them initially, $64, but with taxes $83ish. The room had only a bed and two small end tables as well as a table/closet combo. No place to sit. Terrible breakfast, but they did have a nice sitting area in the lobby, though that is not so desirable in covid times.

Pretrip: Super intense as Omicron surged. I was hoping Oceanwide would cancel and refund the money. They never blinked. I thought I would be ok getting there, but because the trip was so long, there was a good chance I could have troubles on the way back. I needed to be back by the 9th of January to start my new job the next day, and, after the airline canceled my initial flight back from Ushuaia (I would have been in PA the 4th of January) making my connecting flights impossible, I now was getting back no earlier than the 6th of January. I could not afford to test positive for covid later in the trip. I also needed to get a test the day I flew back to the USA, so I had a kit I could do with online consultation (QURED) and was pretty sure I would be able to swing a test at the Buenos Aires airport as my first option. The thing I worried a bit less about was getting tested prior to leaving. I needed 72 hours before leaving but also 5 days before getting on the boat. So, Friday the 17th was the best time with a Sunday flight at 3:30pm. I could not find anyone who guaranteed a 24 hour turnaround in the Lehigh Valley. CVS suggested less than 2 days. That would work, EXCEPT Argentina didn’t just need a test; you had to upload a PDF of the results to their website with proof of travel insurance to cover covid no sooner than 48 hours before departure, then have a printed copy of a travel document containing all that information before you could get on the plane (!!!!). I was freaking out on the 18th, the day before my flight, waiting for the test. I was calling friends and testing sites arranging plans B through H, and thanks to Mike Guro and Greg Miller for listening to me and helping me think it through. Fortunately the test came from CVS around 9pm. It took me a while to get it in PDF form, but then the Argentina website would not work - things as simple as the dates could not be put in. Finally I tried my rarely used Safari browser and was able to do the forms in 5 minutes, but the printed copies had a 5 font and were almost impossible to read. I was so wound up I could barely sleep and might have gotten about 3 hours.

Getting there: There aren’t many ways to get to Buenos Aires. I was able to get a direct flight from JFK, but that is not an easy airport to get to and from. Still, I was in Bethlehem; how hard could it be? Well, there is only one bus from the area that goes to NYC before mid afternoon on Sundays, and that left at 7:30am. Mike Guro picked me up a little before 7 and dropped me off at the bus part of the terminal. The bus was not crowded and made few stops. We were at the Port Authority a little after 9am ($40.40 each way). From there I took the Blue E train to Queens to catch the AirTrain ($3 subway, $8 AirTrain, a longer ride than you think). The subway was something else on a Sunday morning. There was a guy with a shopping cart asleep on a row of seats in the car I rode in. I wore goggles and two masks, BTW

I thought I would have a long wait at the airport, but everything took a long time and I was soon on the plane. It was PACKED. No open seats, and in the front of our cabin a baby who SCREAMED for about 4 of the 10 hours (scattered throughout, for good measure), usually worst after the call bell for a flight attendant was dinged. The seat was hard and uncomfortable, so I hardly slept. It is always so weird to arrive in a strange city so early in the morning - 4 am is a crazy time! Still there were plenty of people checking passports and the like, though the airport was otherwise empty. My driver was right there when I walked out! What a relief. It cost $40, but it was well worth it. The ride was long and the sun was just coming up. Buenos Aires is not an impressive city. Most of the buildings look unfinished - there are lots of upper floors with open areas and exposed beams. My hotel was on a narrow street next to a few restaurants. I took a shower and read a little to settle down and was asleep a little after 6am.

Buenos Aires: I thought I might run when I got up, but it was already 84 degrees. I went to the restaurant next door that gave guests at the hotel their “free” breakfast. It was pretty full of unmasked patrons talking loudly. I sat down after asking what to do and no one came to my table for over 30 minutes despite me getting up to ask a few times. The breakfast I chose was some yogurt with nuts and a small amount of granola, s small roll that was toasted with two kinds of jam, and an orange juice (there were lots of other options). After breakfast I fell back asleep, and then again after reading for a while. I finally got myself to go for a walk in the later afternoon. There was a major road just a block away, and ATMs there to get some cash. I got in line and tried three of them but none would work for me. Finally someone told me they would not work for people with international bank accounts (the people were generally nice). I found another one with a green LINK sign that worked, though I only was able to take 2000 pesos out, which was basically $20, and I paid a 1000 peso fee! Fortunately most businesses took my credit cards.

I headed towards a green area on the map: parks and gardens and the zoo. Most of them were closed. There were still large open areas that were nice to walk in. I walked for more than 2 hours and covered 4-5 miles. On the way back I saw a bakery and bought a huge piece of chocolate cake. I stopped at the restaurant next door to try to get some takeout. After talking about what was available for takeout (only pizzas), they told me they didn’t open for dinner for another 90 minutes, but I could order in advance and then pickup the pizza and a salad at 7:30. I was super hungry, since I’d only had the breakfast, but I was able to resist the cake. I ate a Clif bar instead.

I went down to the restaurant at 7:30. It had been only 2 hours, and there were only two other customers, but they didn’t seem to remember me. They had not done anything. Someone from the kitchen went out into the outdoor seating, where an old guy with a lot of tattoos and saran wrap on his right arm was smoking. She talked to him for a bit and he came in and started working on the pizza oven. About ten minutes later he came over to me and asked me what kind of pizza I wanted! I had told them at 5pm and again when I showed up. He made it from scratch, and someone brought out the salad. I had the pizza a little after 8pm. It wasn’t very good, and the salad was terrible. They left me with little appetite for the cake, and I only ate about 2/3 of it and threw it away. Sad. They did allow me to borrow a knife and fork, and I took them back in the morning.

I slept well. I was a little worried. There was a sign in the room warning about the sounds of the nightlife, but there was only a quiet piano playing somewhere when I nodded off. I got up at 6am and felt fresh. I ran in some of the areas I walked and beyond, 4.28 miles. There were lots of runners out there! Lots of pedestrians going to work as well. This morning breakfast was much faster and the same otherwise. I made plans to come back to this hotel for the two days I would be in Buenos Aires on my way home. I took a taxi to the domestic airport, which did not appear to be far. But you basically drive all the way around it and then loop back on the way there. It was bedlam inside, with huge crowds and lines. I asked right away where to go and had to stand in line a long time to check in. After that I went to the airline’s ticket office and tried to find out whey I was charged $865 for my flight change, and he would not talk about it, just about other ticket options, but that was no help. I finally told him I was giving up and would leave. There was a huge line to check in for security for domestic flights, but there was a separate line for Patagonia, so I was through in minutes, though I was behind a couple who had to take their cat out of the carrier and hold him while they went through the metal detector (!). Interestingly, there is free internet at the airport, but in order to sign up you have to give it your birthday, and you cannot type the date in; you have to scroll back month by month. I did not feel like scrolling back through 700 months.

Ushuaia (above photos): The pilot did a tremendous job setting the plane down in terrible crosswinds. Ushuaia is a windy place, and this day was really windy. We waited a LONG time for our bags, and then I went looking for an ATM. I couldn’t find it, so I asked the women at the taxi stand inside and she pointed it out. This time I got 4000 pesos and paid only 600 in fees ($40/$6). When I walked outside, I was nearly knocked over by a gust. There was a friendly man getting taxis, and he called someone to come, as all the rest had gone after the flight. A taxi came tearing up to the zone and a skinny old man got out. A man of few words, I told him where I wanted to go and he put the bag in the car, and then we were off, like it was a time trial. That rate of driving only lasted to the main street in town, where we sat and sat. I did not know the hotel was about 80 feet beyond us, but ten minutes later, we got there. I endured his honking and grumbling before that.

Inside the Hotel Monaco, there was only one desk clerk who understood English, and she only helped when she absolutely had to. I was on the second floor, in a special room that pokes out onto the main street, with a tiny window you can see from the street. Otherwise it was a charmless chamber, with a wood and metal table that served as a closet as well, and only a bed and two small end tables bolted into the wall for furniture. It was time for me to eat, but no place opened until 7:30pm. I went out for a walk. The wind was terrible by the water, but it was pretty enough for some photos. I thought i would order takeout to keep away from others, but on the walk I ended up stopping for dinner at a very uncrowded Italian style eatery (Italian and Steakhouses dominated the restaurants in Argentina). The restaurant was crowded by the end of my meal, which lasted a long time and took 30 minutes to get the check after I was done. It was the best meal I had in Argentina, which isn’t saying much: pumpkin soup, veggie ravioli, and flan with dulce de leche. I got back to the hotel by 9:30. I rearranged what I would need during the next day before getting on the ship - we got a message we needed to drop off our luggage to be taken onto the ship by 11:30am (within walking distance of my hotel), and then we would board between 4 and 5pm, so I needed to be ready to spend a while without much stuff.
I slept well - it was not noisy there but it did seem to get darker for a few hours. I got up at 6am and went for a run along the water and out a nice running path on the way to the airport, along a bay where the wind was still blowing hard but much less than the day before. On the way back I stopped at an outside gym and did some dips and then even tried my first pullups since my shoulder got bad in May. I did 4 without much trouble (!).

I checked out and took my bags over to drop off. They talked me into keeping my backpack since it might get hot, and I would need a water bottle. I went back to the hotel, reading and using their wifi for about 90 minutes, sharing the area with a sleeping teen and her family. When I felt ready to eat, I wandered all over again.

I was sort of looking for a specific vegetarian place, but I didn’t find it, and I wandered in the hills and back, settling on a place called the Dali Cafe. They had vegetarian options, again with a long delay and no rush. I stopped at a pharmacy and bought a bottle of cheap moisturizer for the cruise, and then I went to the grocery store and got a bottle of air freshener in case I had to share my room on the boat (more for the other person’s benefit than for me). I regretted not getting a bunch of chocolate bars. Then I walked to the site where we were to wait to be taken to the boat and also, much to my relief, get tested for covid.

The line was much longer than for dropping off bags. At the end was a red haired young woman from Michigan. We chatted a bit while waiting. Inside was a gym, and they had plenty of chairs set up. I didn’t realize it, but one of the ship’s two doctors did my first covid test - somehow I had dodged them to that point. EVERYONE WAS NEGATIVE! They took us to the pier/departure point in coach buses. From there we were allowed to walk up the gangplank and I was escorted to my room. The attendant was surprised when we walked in; there was only my bag. I HAD MY OWN ROOM!!!! This was a key development. I was so excited. I did a few quick things in the room and then headed out to the deck. I was one floor down from before, a good spot, right by the launch point for the rubber boats they called Zodiacs, and right by the boot room and equipment handout place, as well as the same floor as the dining room. The main lounge was two floors up and had been refurbished. I went out to the external decks and walked around and chatted with a few people. I was quite eager to share I had been on this boat before. I forget the flow, but I think we did some safety briefings before they were allowed to sail, including all putting on our big, puffy life vests and looking at the life boats (they were the same, only this time they told us there were no toilets on them, but enough provisions for two weeks). I chatted with a number of people, and they all seemed nice, eager and excited. We were all very happy we were covid free.

We were welcomed to dinner then. Our trip leader was Eduardo, a thin and slightly short man who had a PhD in Astronomy and often repeated himself. We were assigned the same seats at the same table initially until the next covid tests. The group I sat with were generally friendly and interesting, from all over the world, but who generally lived in the USA. They warned us the seas were to be rough that night once we got out of the channel into the open sea, called the Drake Passage, where the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans meet. I was back out on deck with my new friends chatting and taking photos until around 10pm. I took some melatonin to help me sleep and 25mg of meclizine, a good motion sickness medicine, before going to bed.

The views above show the early part of the voyage, on smooth waters, looking back to the Chilean side of the channel and the impressive mountains of Chilean Patagonia (which I visited and wrote about in late 2015) and one of the more interesting things we saw on the way.

THE NIGHT WAS ROUGH! I was frequently repeating the beginning of George Costanza’s telling of his day as a fake marine biologist at the beach. It got rocky soon after I went to bed and even worse as the night progressed. The meclizine was helping a little; if I stayed still on the bed on my back, I was generally ok. I slid up and down in the bed as the boat rocked side to side. Any time out of the bed was spent in a furious attempt to keep from falling. Eventually, after another dose of meclizine, I was pretty uncomfortable. I ended up on my knees over the toilet about 5 times, mostly dry heaving and then calming down enough to go back to bed, but I did vomit once, breaking a new streak of more than 6 years, which followed a streak of 22 years. I also had belches that seemed to come from the bowels of Hell.

They announced breakfast, but I knew there was no way I could go to the dining room and eat. I finally called the hotel manager, and they had the doctor come by to see me, and a waiter brought up some toast, jam and fruits to my room. It was all so nice. The doctor, a beautiful woman from the Netherlands, gave me a scopolamine patch. I was too shaky to open it and put it on myself. I told her I was a doctor and that I had not liked the bitter taste and blurry vision the patch gave me the last time, and I had never had motion sickness before, so I thought the meclizine would be fine. It was AMAZING how fast the patch worked, BUT, they made us go to a mandatory briefing right after breakfast at 9am. I had to go. I was pretty miserable and tired at that point, but I ate some things after, took a nap, and then was myself except with bitter saliva and somewhat blurry vision, while it also helped that the seas had calmed significantly. They stayed much calmer until we got to Antarctica. I was on deck a bit, watching things, and also reading a lot (books read on the trip: The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel, Destiny Disrupted by Tamim Ansary {a history of Islam}, Attached, The Long Fix by Vivian Lee {medical reform}, and Sally Rooney’s Beautiful World, Where Are You? {meh}). There wasn’t much else to do in the open sea. A huge number of passengers had seasickness, by the way.

When I got to breakfast the next morning, I was reminded of how the rest of the world views cereal: this ship had the three worst cereals, one of my pet peeves: Rice crispies, corn flakes, and Wheetabix! I wanted cereal so bad I ate some wheetabix and All Bran with jam in them, but I found the next day they had oatmeal, and I ate that with some all bran and jam the rest of the time. We did more the 24th, since people were feeling better, including another covid test (all negative, so we were allowed to eat with other people), briefings, sign ups for activities. An amusing anecdote: they had recommended we bring gaiters, the shoe protectors, for hiking in the snow. I bought some and took them with me to a Biosecurity briefing, where anything we might wear to Antarctic landings had to be inspected for seeds or potential contaminants. When I got back, I could not find my gaiters. Did the guide take them? I checked repeatedly at the lost and found, and in the lounge where I had last had them. Nothing. 5 days later I found them at the bottom of my back pack, which I had emptied out and searched at lest 10 times.

Christmas Morning, 12/25 - We arrived!!

I woke up around 3 am and looked out my port hole - icebergs! They woke us early, at 6:30, as we finally had stuff to do. The typical wake up involved a two tone signal, followed in 5 seconds by new age type music, then multiple good mornings from Eduardo. He would tell us the general early schedule and where we were. It was a cloudy day, but we could all see icebergs, some mountains and glaciers as well as a few other ships in the distance. We ate breakfast and got ready to leave the boat on the zodiacs. That involved waterproof jacket and pants and rubber boots to just under the knee. We were not aware at the time how much went into these adventures. The guides had already been out and scouted landing locations near enough to penguins and other nice things, but not too close, and set up snow shoes there for us to use, as well as stairs up through the snow (made of snow). We all followed instructions - I was terrified of falling and getting wet while walking in the water, so I was super careful. There were hundreds of penguins, including all around the little rocky area going into and out of the water! They are very cute. They look at you, and then pretend not to look at you some more.

I got my snowshoes on - first time (moderate complexity) - and started walking around. There were several paths for us to take between the penguin colonies that were safe to use. I was a bit overdressed - not sure what it would be like. I had lots of energy, so I walked around rather than staying in a few places. At the end of the biggest hill climb there was a small group of penguins and then a hill back down to the water. I asked a staff member there to take a photo or two of me, and she kept telling me to back up, which got me closer and closer to the steepish drop, and then I lost my balance with the snowshoes (they told us not to walk backward in them) and fell onto my butt, landing awkwardly on my right hand. I got up and dusted the snow off my butt and walked around some more. They had told us the strategy was to get down low and stay still and the penguins will come up close to you. I never did that. I found the best way to get close to them was to see when they were going to cross a path near you and just stand still. They would walk right up to you, then around you.

Two things about penguins, and one of the things has two things: they smell terrible, most likely because their poop/feces smell terrible, and they basically poop all over where they live. The second thing is they are pretty loud. Lots of chatter and occasional loud outbursts while craning their necks back and looking to the sky. The other things you should know are they are remarkable climbers, having nests far up steep hills, and they can only nest on rocks (at least the ones we saw, the Gentoo and Chinstraps). We were out for a while, then back to the boat for lunch. We started to move then, and were starting to hit ice, which I love to watch, so after lunch I was out on deck a lot.

Digression: Lunch was much better than breakfast. There was always a “vegetarian option” that usually had some dairy in it, but was always good. We could get salads, occasional soups, and there was always fresh fruit, as well as some meat based entree. They sometimes had a sweet thing as well (always at dinner, which was similar overall). The amounts were not large; I was often still hungry, which was all right. There would be a “sweet of the day” put out in the lounge around 4pm, though we were usually off the boat at that time. I would still get some, usually cookies, and would often dip them in hot chocolate from their machine.

It turned out the place we wanted to go was too icy (we heard several times there was more ice than usual this year). The boat couldn’t get to where we needed to go, and then the zodiacs would not work if we did get there. It was snowing off and on much of the time, but not that cold - maybe the high 20s F. They found an area with less ice and we went out for a quick zodiac cruise in a bay, looking at the ice and then the penguin rookeries and other birds nests on the cliffs. It was 90 minutes long - sitting in the boats that long, especially if we were driving fast, could get cold.

After we got back, I took a shower (I did not shower every day - it was hard when the sea was rough, and we didn’t do that much. I also wore the same clothes over and over. You can get away with that in merino wool). I went to the lounge to watch the journey after dinner. The captain then came on the system, and said the magic words on Christmas day: They saw a pod of orcas in the distance and were going to go to them. We all ran out onto the decks, but it was cold and they were far off, so I ran back in and got bundled up and went back with my camera equipment. Soon we were seeing them, zooming near the boat and in the distance. It was fantastic. Then I saw what looked like other whales, and sure enough, a bunch of humpback whales were swimming in the area as well. As the orcas moved off, the humpbacks came right up to the boat. It was speculated we’d crossed into a big area of krill (we’d just had a lecture about them). What a Christmas Day! I was thrilled.

Our morning routine the 26th was interrupted by an important announcement. The Red Team got it first. I was on the Blue Team. They set that up in case we needed to be separated and to keep the dining room less crowded. Anyway, it was about COVID! A passenger had reported a sore throat and some congestion, and they tested positive. We all got tested again, and two of their close contacts were then screened and they were asymptomatic positives. CRAP!

We were in a place called Paradise Bay, and I had been out several times to take photos and look around. It was initially foggy, but the light improved and revealed it to be a spectacularly beautiful place. We were scheduled to tour it, but all the morning activities were canceled while they rolled out the managing covid plan.

We then left that area, going through a disappointing day with lunches now separate and with us socially distanced, and trying to stay away from others inside, wearing masks while inside. They finally got us off the boat later in the afternoon for another zodiac cruise. I was in a bad mood because two of the loud talkers got on that boat and they were going on and on, as if we needed some entertainment. This was to be the first night people went out camping, but it was canceled due to fairly heavy snow and a fair bit of wind.

On 12/27, we began our new routine. the blue and red teams would alternate going to breakfast first with going for our covid tests first. The staff were great, handling all the testing with good cheer. One of the biologists was the person to swab everyone in full PPE. The rest checked us in, screened for fevers, labeled the vials and then ran the tests.

We got good news in that everyone tested negative. We had a lovely cruise through a narrow channel with big cliffs and glaciers all around. It was fairly chilly and windy, and the area we had entered was quite icy. It was our group’s day to do the mountaineering. Mountaineering had been the thing I was least excited to do, but I still wanted to do it. We were told to get good, waterproof boots that went high up the leg and could fit into crampons for the ice. I was not sure I wanted to do ice climbing with an ice ax because my right shoulder was just getting better from a six months long bout of frozen shoulder, though I was pretty sure I could handle whatever they threw at me, and there did not appear to be anyone on the boat fitter than I was at the time. Still, I was a bit disappointed when the guide told me my boots I’d brought were not good enough for the ice and crampons. Anyway, the activity involved us getting roped together and walking slowly around the terrain, with the goal of climbing a peak or two.

This area had no big peaks, but there was a mild one in view, maybe a 150 feet vertical. Unfortunately, we could not get to it; the ice was too thick. We tried but had to turn around. This all took quite a while, sitting in the zodiac boats while they tried to pick our way there, then turned around and had to maneuver through what we had just struggled through and then to the other place, which was a fairly flat island with some penguin rookeries but still with ice packed on the way.

We got through the ice and the rocky landing area was not slippery enough for any of us to fall (I did not want to slip and get wet and have to freeze or make us all turn around after all that effort!!). We got into the deep, wet snow, and frequently one leg or the other would go hip deep in it moving around trying to get dressed properly and get our snow shoes on and get roped together. There were penguins constantly on the move around us, especially by the water.

We finally started moving after taking off some layers, and it was a slow go. There were lots of stops for photos, some of them quite long. It was not very steep or hard, but you do tend to do some extra work in the snow shoes so you stay warm. I was at the very end - the lead guide said he would put me there because I looked strong (I said, “Looks can be deceiving.”). I didn’t get to hear any of the information, and by the time I would get to where most of them were taking photos, they would be about ready to leave. That included a penguin rookery with a rare Emperor Penguin mixed in. I had noticed it right away - way bigger, like a football guard on the cross country team. I, of course, did not get a photo of it. It was still a lot of fun. Any time we got off the boat was very enjoyable, no matter how bad the weather, with the possible exception of the camping (spoiler alert).

When we got back there was a lot of work to get our layers back on, our boots sorted, and the site leveled off so penguins wouldn’t get stuck in the deep holes in the snow left by our boots.The zodiacs had a very hard time getting there, and then it took a long time to get back, probably at least an hour, as the Plancius had to move to a less icy area while we were on the land. It was a chilly ride back, but that island was absolutely full of penguin rookeries in other sections we did not see as well while on the land.

I ate a huge lunch and then was sleepy. They woke me up at 3:45 to go out on a zodiac again, and I forgot my life vest and had to go back (my cabin was about a 20 second walk away, so no big deal). I was distracted by my extreme desire to not be in the boat with the loud guys, but I ended up with them again! It was only a short ride to shore. There appeared to be an insatiable desire for penguin photos among the guests. I already had plenty, so I did laps back and forth for the exercise. Without trying I had multiple very close encounters with wandering penguins, and thus appeared in lots of other photos people took. I am able to stand very still for a long time in snow shoes, so I have that going for me. We got on the boats and went to see some seals on the ice. It was a long time in the boats and I was cold and hungry still when we got back. I was still hungry after eating as much as I could - it was like a normal day for me with some exercise a few times but without eating enormous amounts!

Digression: It is hard to pack enough clothes to wear for an 18 days trip without planning on doing some laundry. On the ship, they would do laundry for you, but a t-shirt would cost $3. I had done this before on my Arctic cruise: washed my clothes in the bathroom sink using the hand soap. That was why having my own room was so clutch: no one to fuss over the clothes soaking in the sink and then hanging all over the bathroom to dry (there was a heated drying rack in there that helped). I was particularly fond of my tight t-shirts to wear to dinner, as the boat was generally warm, and my arms wanted to be seen.

The weather took a big turn for the better on the 28th, with a clearer morning that was warmer. The good weather was countered by the bad news that two more people had tested positive for covid. The night before had been the first attempt at camping, and during the night the campsite got iced in. It took over three hours to get them back to the boat, so we couldn’t do anything else that morning but walk the decks and take in the great views. Sad! But the Lemaire Channel cheered me up - it is fairly narrow with huge mountains, cliffs and glaciers on each side.

We ate lunch early and then went out in the boats again to see penguins at 3pm. I was in the second boat to leave and as we were getting everyone seated, a humpback whale came out of the water just a few feet behind me and sprayed its mist in the air. We all scrambled to get our cameras out (you had to have everything stowed and your hands free to get on the boat), but watched as it moved away, breathing periodically and then diving while about 40 feet away, its tail well caught on my video, though looking more distant than it was. I had really wanted to get close to a whale in the zodiac - you are not allowed to approach closely, but the whales are allowed to get as close as they choose!

We got to the shore quickly and I was one of the first ones on the trail. I went out to what appeared to be the end, where one of the guests I had gotten to know better was standing. She said, “There is no path!” I said, “So, let’s make one!”. I noticed some deep footprints in the snow going up a hill to the left. I could see someone walking well off in the blue jacket of a guide and noted a few marking poles had been placed. So, off I went, charging up the snow, filling his huge holes while making many myself, even with the snow shoes. It was good work, and I was catching up fast. He finally put two poles in the snow marking the end of the trail near another group of penguins and collapsed in the snow! I got there a few minutes later and he was still breathing hard. I asked him if he was ok, and he said he was pretty tired as it was hard work. I acted like it was pretty easy for me (classic Terry;-). We talked about what exercise they could get on the boat, and he said they had a gym, but it was small. A few others started to arrive , so I went back and forth again, filling in as many big holes as I could in the snow. I loved being out in the snow and getting to move around, but I didn’t need any more penguin photos. They are cute and interesting, but at this point we seemed to mostly be annoying them. I was one of the first to take a boat back to get ready for dinner and camping later that night.

The camping would be a challenge for an insomniac who typically can’t sleep if his bladder is sending signals, and access to toilets during the “night” would require walking through snow to a tiny toilet. I tried not to drink much fluid at dinner and braced myself for a long night. I needed to…The spot was where we had been earlier that day, with penguin colonies on each side. The snow was deep and wet, and it was hard walking in our boots, but we tried to pack down paths into and out of the camping area. I walked up to a patch along the far edge and tried to stay away from everyone who was noisy, keeping Michael, my German dinner companion on one side. Alas, the loud Englishman who was very fond of his booze took the spot next to the foot of mine, and then a loud mom and daughter squeezed into the spot between me and the guy at my head. Worst case scenario!

We were to use a small shovel to dig out blocks to stack on the windward side to keep the elements off us some. I was not very good at it, but my wall didn’t take long and was serviceable. Others built elaborate show-off walls with windows, including the loud Englishman. HIs took forever. The demos about the sleeping bag set ups were not very illustrative of what we actually had to do, standing in wet snow, in hard rubber boots, where one false move and we could be up to our hips in snow and smash a bunch of melting snow into our sleeping bags! I worked and worked on getting the bags ready, but it seemed like it was not big enough. I am tallish, but not that tall, and not very wide, but my feet could barely get to the bottom and my legs were wrapped so tight they could barely move. it took a few tries, but I finally got the layers somewhat together with my feet in two layers of socks. My feet were slightly wet, though, and they quickly got cold. I couldn’t stand it, so I finally, after about 30 minutes, got back out and changed to dry socks. Fortunately that change worked, but there still wasn’t much room for my feet. It then became clear I had too many layers on my upper body, so after another change I settled in, getting that pretty close to correct. I was as comfortable as I could be in the bag, which was not very. Now I was more aware than ever of all the noise: the women chatting and laughing, walking around to have drinks with the Englishman, who was still stacking blocks on his walls. I knew I was unlikely to sleep, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be torture.

It had been nice when we got there, but then it got cloudy, and pretty soon it was snowing and sleeting. The outer shell was waterproof, but it not sound proof, so every flake and ice bit made a noise, and not a soothing one. I might have dozed off a few times - I recall a dream about my brother at one point, but I also found ice accumulating in any weak spot. I tried to roll around, but nothing was comfortable. Things did get quieter, and I could hear my neighbor, Michael, snoring, but the minutes oozed by.

finally, it was 4am. The snow had been accumulating, but had stopped for the moment. We were to leave at 5am-ish, with the area all flattened back and everything picked up, to go back to the boat for a nap before breakfast. I couldn’t take it anymore; I got out of the bag and started getting ready. I knocked my walls down and smoothed the area, while one by one others got out and started as well. Michael slept a while longer, and the Englishman had to be wakened by one of the guides. By the end it was sleeting sideways and the water was very rough for the ride back to the boat. I helped all the people around get their walls down and smoothed, even the women. I made it 9 hours without peeing. We shared our stories on the way back and at breakfast (I was able to get a nearly 3 hour nap in before breakfast - it was glorious). Everybody I talked to slept well except for one of the guys near me. He was also taller. My dinner table mate fell asleep right away and slept through the night! He was an experienced camper and boy scout leader.

After breakfast, we went out on the zodiacs to an area of vast penguin rookeries, the most we’d seen. The guides had decided we wouldn’t need snowshoes, but the snow was very deep and everyone was griping about how hard it was to walk anywhere. You never knew when you would crash through to your crotch. Still, I embraced it and was happy for the exercise. It was already warm and getting warmer. I went back early, thinking we would eat quick and get back out since it was so beautiful, but we had to do more covid testing. This day was the best weather we would have, and things finally went my way as it was my day to kayak, something I had looked forward to the whole time! The guide had seemed taciturn, but it was only because I had never seen him doing what he loved, which was kayaking. He had been on his country’s national kayaking team, and somehow he loved going kayaking so much he could put up with taking a bunch of hacks with him. We had all sorts of layers on but they were both warm and functional. We helped unload the kayaks, then rode in the zodiac, which towed the kayaks behind it to the site

The area was stunning, the water like glass and ice bergs a plenty! A dream come true. We cruised around a bit and then the guide, Set, said there was a seal on the ice he wanted us to go to. He pulled us up close to the shore and we got out. We followed him up on the ice shelf as he walked right up to the seal and took a lot of photos of it. It was fascinating how much he enjoyed seeing this seal, something he had likely seen hundreds of times. We spent a while taking photos right near it as it mostly tried to ignore us but occasionally looked at us, bored.

I enjoyed it all so much, but we had to get back to do the polar plunge! Everyone was nervous, but I was excited. We took the kayaks back to the boat and loaded them back on, then rushed to our rooms to get the kayak gear off and change into our swimming clothes. I forgot a swimsuit and had only my merino wool boxer briefs, which would do. We got to the beach where it would happen, and they told us they were not ready for the blue team to jump in yet, so we walked up a hill and got warm and sweaty. I was ready to go, but they still surprised us by yelling GO! suddenly. I was slow, as I have delicate feet, but I dove in and went completely under, then sat on an iceberg on the way in. It was a great finish to the most beautiful day! To top it off, it wasn’t even that cold when we dried off and got dressed. Oceanwide always goes the extra mile, and some of the hotel and kitchen staff were out in boats handing out hot toddies and hot cocoa to us as we left. I was so exhilirated by the day I could have kept going all night, but I was also pretty tired and eager to get some sleep. I ended up with the latter option, getting 9 hours!

We got good news in the morning. If we were negative the rest of the voyage , we could be released, but then they made a special announcement. It was a false alarm: still all negative. The water was rougher and it was gloomy early, but then it got nicer as we landed at a place called Mikelson Cove, where there were remnants of a research station and lots of penguins (and a few whale bones). The coolest thing was a cove/beach with small icebergs all over. We posed with them in all sorts of ways. There were also a few calving glaciers in the distance. Then a research sailboat went past. Lots of good photos.

On te zodiac ride back, we stopped by two beaches and went onto them to view two different groups of seals as they sunned themselves on the ice nearby. Set, the kayak guide, egged our guide on and we had fun. On trying to get off the second beach, somehow we got turned the wrong way in the surf and the boat kept getting swamped. I got pretty wet and even got water in my mouth. After this long morning, we made it back just in time to eat, but it turned out the mountaineers had bitten off more than they could chew climbing a peak nearby. We could see them from the Plancius - they stood there, not moving, for 10 minutes at a time, sometimes with a few of them lying in the snow. It was weird in so many ways. They were coming down; it shouldn’t be that hard, but they later said they were exhausted and it was too steep to come down easily in snow shoes. Waaaa. {Co-wusses-ugh!} They wasted hours of our time, so instead of a big landing on the Antarctica continent, we only got a quick crossing to an ice filled bay and a few minutes on a rocky outcropping theoretically connected to the continent. There were some funny moments when the photo guide, George, announced on the radio that it was clearly still an island, and others argued on the radio that it was high tide, and at low tide it was part of the continent. I didn’t care - it was all Antarctica. The water was very rough and there was a lot of ice, so it was a tough landing no matter what. On the long ride back we saw a seal swimming in the water and I also picked a piece of ice out of the water and put it in my mouth. It wasn’t salty at all.

After a good dinner, we went on the highest deck to look for whales but only saw one humpback far out. We were onto something, though, and that became our obsession, especially my table mate, Joe, who seemed to spend every waking moment spotting whales the rest of the journey. We then began to spot more later and soon they were all around, humpbacks showing their tails, spouting, and flipping their fins in the air.

The next day we were to enter a caldera from a huge volcanic explosion that was filled with the sea. It had an impressive entrance, so we were excited. They announced it as we approached and everyone was on deck as we cruised through. It was rough and windy, but the day got worse and worse. We were able to get the zodiacs to the beach, but the wind was howling the whole time. Still, there were things to see: an albino penguin, some seals on the beach, the remains of the whaling station that had been there, and the steam vents in the ground. I walked around alone, going to the scary, windy cliffs along the edge and all the way to the other end. When we finally went back to the boat, the seas were the roughest we saw while on the Zodiacs. It took several passes by the deck on the boat before we could get secured and get off, and the waves were crashing all around us. I joked they won’t show that part on the advertisements for the cruise! I was drenched, but it was exhilirating.

It was going to be rough the rest of the way; this was our last time on land for a few days, as the afternoon activities were canceled due to the wind and rough waters. I don’t think too many wanted to go through what we’d done in the morning again to get in and out of the zodiacs.. I put my scopolamine patch on and got ready. Fortunately there was plenty of time to practice our new hobby, and we could now regularly spot whales.

We settled back into our cruising routine, with lectures in the lounge and watching whales, but it soon was too rough to do much else. I was so worried my patch would fall off! I did not want to be sick again. When I woke up the next morning, all of my stuff had fallen from wherever I’d put it onto the floor of the cabin. It was a cold and windy day - I was on the deck only a few minutes, and otherwise tried to go to the lectures, which were good. I got some internet time - was supposed to be 100MB, but it lasted only a few minutes and I only sent two emails. I finally went to bed again after more lectures.

Our last full day at sea was started with a foreboding huge wave hitting our side of the boat while at breakfast. It was a stunning noise and visual. We quickly got used to that all through the morning, and it was only to get worse in the afternoon. It was too rough to leave our cabins for lunch, so the staff came by and quickly handed out bag lunches. Mine had ham, but I ate it. The afternoon was ferocious. After it calmed down some later in the afternoon, we found out we had sailed through a cyclone, with some winds over 80mph and 30 foot waves. Our spirits were not ready to find out the Argentinian authorities had notified Oceanwide that we would be held in port until we had negative PCR tests done by official testing facilities the next day. How were we going to pull that off? We had the ability to do our own testing with rapid PCRs in just a few hours, but they would not accept that. We were cheered more while eating by tiny dolphins swimming alongside the boat as we got into the calmer waters of the strait.

Despite all the stress, I slept well the last night. We had reached Ushuaia, and somehow they had found a team of testers to come on board. They said the results would be back by the late afternoon. It was now sort of clutch my 2:30pm flight had been canceled and now I left at 8:30, but that was not guaranteed. I was comforted some by not needing to be in Buenos Aires for another 2 days, but it was still super stressful for all of us, especially if we tested positive, as we would be quarantined in Ushuaia for ten days.

They had enough food for a pretty good lunch and dinner as we waited and waited. Finally, at around 7pm, they announced they were opening up the internet for everyone for free as we were going to have to work on rescheduling everything since the tests had not yet come. I tried to change my flight but couldn’t, and instead paid for another flight in 2 days. I hoped I would be able to recoup the money later. Then I booked a hotel for two nights in Ushuaia, choosing the same hotel I had stayed in before, forgetting about the terrible breakfast and rooms. It was much more expensive, but I did not have much time to look around. I was still VERY lucky - since my original flight left at 8:30pm, I was with the group that needed to leave as soon as the tests allowed. They finally came in at 8:40pm, and I was negative. Michael, who was on the same flight, and I went out with the rest, but since we were too late for our flight, they did not take us to the airport. We waited nervously, hoping not to be kept on board. It was a tense, tense evening, every moment full of portent. Finally we got word they were going to take the two of us to our hotels and we could leave, BUT all the rest of the passengers would have to spend the night on the boat! I felt terrible for them, but I was happy for myself. At least I would be able to go running in the morning and sleep in a proper bed. After I got to the hotel, the first thing I did was go to the grocery store right before it closed and bought a huge amount of chocolate, eating most of it! But the chocolate and morning run were the only benefits. That hotel was terrible. The breakfast was awful, and there wasn’t much to do during the day but walk around, which I did all day. I ate at the same lunch place and then a closer restaurant, super paranoid about getting exposed to covid before trying to go back to the US.

Here are the maps with the stops.

I ran a glorious 4 miles, covering some ground I had not been on before, but ending up on the bay on the other side which was nicer than the prior super windy day. it was still fun. I heard from my friends on the ship they had gotten angry, and the boat gave them an open bar. They tried to have some fun while a few others were whisked away to quarantine along with the male ship doctor, all of them now positive (Oceanwide canceled all the cruises for the near future)! I went on long walks in the morning and in the afternoon. On the latter, I stopped at the outdoor gym to exercise in my jacket while a family used some of the equipment. I apparently made the dip bar look easy, as one of the women went to it and nearly collapsed with effort after not being able to move up and down at all. My last night in Ushuaia came to a close after a disappointing dinner and a short night of sleep before getting up early to get a taxi to the airport with my last bit of cash.

GOING HOME: The trip home was a saga in itself, worthy of Homer or a movie like “After Hours.” The airport was typically strange but there were no major issues on the boarding. I saw one of the men I’d met and spent some time with on the boat before they split our groups up, and we chatted while waiting for our bags in Buenos Aires after the 3.5 hour flight. He told me more about what had happened on the boat before heading off. I had to get from the more domestic airport to the international airport. I went outside and started towards where the taxis were. I saw a taxi slowly moving by and I gestured to it and it stopped. I could see an older man inside and moved over to talk into his window when a younger, tattooed man in a tight t-shirt cut in front of me and said, in broken English, “Taxi for you? No, you must come here.” I thought he might be like the guy in Ushuaia who organized taxis, so I followed him. It was quickly evident my assumption was wrong, but my spirit of adventure and interest in what he was doing kept me listening. He said he would take me to the airport; it would be very quick and safe. He was a non-licensed taxi guy for sure; maybe he would be cheaper? I made a big mistake in not negotiating before I got in the car, but I was not afraid, at least initially. He spoke very loudly and was hard to understand, playing music loudly. He kept telling me it was only a short drive, but it seemed to take forever. I started to have my doubts and was wondering if he would take me somewhere and try to steal my stuff, as he occasionally took phone calls. We occasionally passed signs for the airport but kept going and going. Finally, we got there, and he started adding with his fingers and came up with the figure of….$90US! I had no Pesos left. I immediately said it had cost me only $40 for the taxi into the city nearby the other airport, and that was what I would pay. I knew I had the upper hand because I was there and bigger than him, but at the same time, I have plenty of money and was happy to have gotten this far. I gave him $60 and walked away after a long and heated argument.

It was only 2 pm, and I had to wait until my flight at 11:30pm. First on the agenda was trying to get the covid test I needed to board the flight. I asked some airline personnel who had just emerged from the terminal where the testing tent was, and they asked someone else, who told him it was outside the next terminal over. It was warm and sunny, a pretty nice day, so I walked over there with my bags and found it. They did not speak English well, but after a short wait it was my turn. Despite lots of uncertainty, I kept asking and eventually I got just what I needed: a printout with the negative results on it, and it was only about $20. I took that with me inside the airport, where there was a small coffee shop. I had hardly had anything to eat all day, so I ordered lunch and sat there for more than 2 hours eating and killing time. I went back to the other terminal, which was busy, and found out from another employee who spoke English poorly, I could check in for my flight 5 hours before. I only had to wait another half hour and then went over. The line was not long but it moved slowly. I finally got a pleasant, pretty girl who seemed very helpful. She accepted my covid test and then told me I had not done my paperwork. She let me log in and do it while standing there, which took a while, then she said there was a problem and left. I stood there for about 30 minutes until she came back. The gist was my new tickets did not cover my checked bag, so I could not get a boarding pass until I went to the cashier and paid for the bag. I, of course, told her I was paying a huge amount of money for the return trip and was astonished the bag was not included, but she smiled and brushed it off. I had to take everything over to a booth in the middle of the terminal and wait a while. When I got to the guy, he tapped and tapped on the keyboard and told me it would be $189 for my bags! I was already paying $2000 for an economy seat on this airline and now I had to pay that? He told me I could go to the website when I got home and ask for a refund. Now I was able to drop off my bag and go through security, which, for a flight to the US was not too bad, though they looked at the papers long and hard.

AEROLINEAS ARGENTINAS is a TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE business (more later), but their planes leave on time and arrive early. I had a window seat next to a woman, and I never got up the whole 9 hour flight. I didn’t watch any movie or inflight entertainment, reading and sighing the whole time. If I slept, it was for a few moments at a time, but we eventually made it to Miami and I was able to get through customs and passport control, always chaos, without exasperating me too much. now I had 4 hours to kill before the flight to JFK, so I got some breakfast and sat and read some more. We got there just early enough I could get a taxi to the Port Authority in time for the early bus to Bethlehem. We left with plenty of time to spare but we needed all of it, as traffic was bad, but I knew my driver took it seriously as we tried to pull out of the taxi lane (I walked right past all the fake taxi guys and went to the legit ones who charge a straight fee for that trip, though I had to pay a little extra for the traffic delays), a woman went onto the crosswalk right before we got there and he shouted “You g***n M*****r!” He drove like a maniac and dropped me across the street. All the side entrances were closed, so i walked an extra two blocks to get in, but from there hustled to the gate and was probably 20th in line. The bus left a little late but was not full, so that was a relief, and Mike Guro picked me up at the bus stop not long after I arrived.

Summary Part 2: I LOVED Antarctica. It is so beautiful, and Oceanwide did a great job making it work despite all the problems. BUT, it is very hard to get there and get back, especially with COVID, and AEROLINEAS ARGENTINAS is so terrible I refuse to fly with them again.

WARNING!!! I was unable to make any contact with Aerolineas Argentinas - they have no email address, no customer service line. They insist you can call them on WhatsApp. I am not super familiar with WhatsApp, but I have called people a number of times on it. Every time I called AEROLINEAS ARGENTINAS I got a message that said they do not accept calls on WhatsApp. They have online forms in Spanish that are incomprehensible, asking for vague information, and many, many answers and numbers I could not discern. I finally filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau, asking how a company can possible provide services in the USA with absolutely no customer service at all and no recourse to abuse and poor service. About ten days later I got an email from Aerolineas Customer Service. After some back and forth, they said they had reimbursed me for the flight change in Ushuaia (they had not), then they said they had no record of a claim I had filed (I had attempted to submit claims about 20 times and could not tell if it worked. They had none of those!) It dawned on me the BBB complaint had gotten to them, so that prompted their response. I confronted them with that information, and then they countered, after they had helped explain the forms, (“They are not customer friendly” they said), that they would not reimburse me because of a technicality and I would have to go through another path. MEANWHILE, I also tried to file a claim with the travel insurance company to whom I had paid $485 for trip insurance, and they would not take any calls or answer any questions, responded to emails with substantial delays, and would not even consider reimbursing me without full documentation from the airline! I was reminded of what the taxi driver yelled at the innocent pedestrian who crossed the crosswalk as we approached, costing us 12 seconds. All their terrible service cost me $1600 and hours and hours of time on hold, filling out forms, writing emails, all for nought. I got an email from the Better Business Bureau saying they had to close the case because Aerolineas Argentinas never responded to any of their attempts to contact them. Do not fly Aerolineas Argentinas, and if you try to go to Argentina, use a travel agent who will get your flights changed for you and get your money back from the travel insurers or the airlines.

Slideshow link: https://youtu.be/89pMM-kqD0E

Video link: https://youtu.be/OBahqmW3Yng

Thank you for reading. I hope you will read the other content available here and comment freely.

Skiing (??!!) in Innsbruck, 2020

Prelude to a Journey:

I went to Innsbruck in 1998 and 2001 with Vince Seiwert, a doctor I worked with at Robins Air Force Base in Georgia, and with whom I kept in touch after leaving. We had good times, but I never improved and lost interest, especially after I started doing more missionary work as a doctor. I didn’t enjoy skiing much, mostly because I wasn’t very good, but also because there was always a risk of hurting yourself. When Vince contacted me and asked if I’d be interested in a reunion of sorts at Innsbruck in 2020, I was interested. I didn’t play golf anymore and was always looking for physical challenges to do on vacations. So I agreed, and we got an agency to plan everything. It turned out to be a reasonable cost.

As the time approached, I got a bit nervous. I had right knee surgery in December of 2018 and had gotten back in excellent shape by the fall of 2019 despite a few nagging injuries. I was looking forward to running some really fast times in a few spring races in the DC area. The last thing I needed was to hurt myself skiing. I made a promise to myself I would ski very conservatively and not do any of the hard slopes. I would also take a lesson if possible to decrease my risk of trouble. I was definitely in great shape for skiing as well.

Getting There: I had a direct flight from Dulles to Vienna overnight after working a half day. There was a short connecting flight from Vienna to Innsbruck, and nothing very interesting happened on the way, other than a spectacular sunrise seen through the clouds that made them look like they were on fire, followed by stunning views of the Alps as we flew across Austria.

Saturday, 2/22: I found Vince without trouble. His checked bag was missing, but otherwise he was fine. We took the bus into the city for 3.1 euros each. From where we got off it was about a 10 minute walk with our bags to the hotel, the Grauer Bar (with umlaut over the a). It was a nice, modern hotel, and we dropped off our bags and went for a stroll and to get lunch as it was a little after noon.

It was a beautiful winter day, warmer than average and only a few clouds in the sky. We strolled to the nearby Old City, where we had stayed the other two times, and found it quite full of tourists. We stopped for lunch at a place called the “Goldener Daschl,”, the Golden Roof, and I got the fish soup (good), a salad (meh) and a huge piece of chocolate cake. We wandered around until 3 pm and then checked in.

Scenes from our stroll: The Old Palace/Hofburg; Street scenes and views of the Inn River, the list of “famous” people who have dined at or stayed at the Goldener Adler (the oldest continually operating hospitality site in the city, active since c. 1358), then the Golden Roof from the street. The last site is the Arch of Triumph, built to celebrate a good marriage in the royal family. It is a lovely setting in a valley surrounded by mighty, snow-covered peaks.

We met our local adviser, Angelika, who talked about our options and how there were a lot of Germans in the area skiing because of the holidays before Ash Wednesday. While there, friends of Vince’s from Germany arrived. They were a pleasant young couple from near Nuremberg who’d been delayed by traffic and had driven for hours to tour Innsbruck with Vince, keeping us off the slopes until Monday. They ate with us at the hotel (Vince insisted on getting the meal plan at the hotel, which was a buffet through Tuesday and then a standard 3 course meal with fish or meat option the other three nights. He likes stability.). Vince took them out for a walk around without me and then we went to bed.

Sunday, 2/23: I didn’t sleep well. Our beds were twins but right next to each other. Still, I thought I would do a long run since no skiing was planned, and I set out on paths along the river with intentions of doing around 10 miles. It was raining, but not hard, certainly not a nice day, but I made it out 5 and then decided to run back on the other side of the river, knowing the paths there had a more complicated sequence. Still, I made a few wrong turns and ended in the area of the sports stadiums and had to ask for directions twice before getting into the right section. I was just getting near the hotel when I passed Vince going the other way, completely oblivious, with Martin and Kati, his friends. We chatted a bit and discussed the plans for meeting them around noon. It ended up being 13 miles (!), though it was easy and not a hard pace. I ate a big breakfast at the buffet (good, but not healthy), I wandered a bit and then waited for them 45 minutes. I was on my way back when I heard Martin shout. Kati looked like she was not enjoying herself, so we decided to get lunch at the same place (VINCE!) and it was fine. They were recharged and I took Vince’s pass and went up with Martin and Kati to the top of the City Tower for views of the Old City. They were a lot of fun when we didn’t have to listen to Vince’s bloviation.

Scenes from the City Tower: our hotel room was right across the street from the two towers of the Jesuit Church in #1; The Golden Roof from above - this was where the rulers would talk to the people and where events like public executions took place; The street below was cobblestoned;

The next stop was the Hofkirche, an old church that now housed the Memorial to Emperor Maximillian I, whose era was the early 1500s. He was seen as the Chosen One after his birth and raised with those expectations, even with the thought he might be the second coming of the Messiah. He made plans to live forever, but ended up dying of bowel problems and beset with paranoia and notions he was being persecuted in late middle age. He died a humble death and was put on display to show how much he had suffered, but the memorial was quite ambitious and started well before his death, with statues of many of the important figures of the time meant to surround his crypt. His remains were kept somewhere else, but the memorial still meant a lot to the area, and he loved Innsbruck, though he spent most of his reign on horseback.

The church and then the memorial, which is behind the gilt frame.

There followed a multimedia show on Maximillian’s life that was creepy at times and a bit too nationalistic.

I waited in a small museum store while Vince toured the Folk Museum with them. They were pretty worn out by 3pm and we did the short walk to the hotel and said our good byes.

I went to the hotel gym and did an easy workout while there was a man, woman and 5 year old girl in her underwear in there. I did pull-ups, which I’d not done before when in Austria, raising my lifetime total of pull-up countries to 22.

At dinner, it was crowded, with a bunch of beefy guys with skin heads taking up most of the space. We now had a reserved table. Both of us ate a lot, especially the nice desserts. Vince went to be at 7:50, completely beat. I made it to 9.

Monday, 2/24: I didn’t sleep well again. I went out for a run despite a steady, cold rain and winds. There were quite a few people out walking as well, mostly to get somewhere or with their dogs. We headed to the ski rental place early and got fitted quickly, me by Olivia, who also kindly dropped us near the bus stop for the J Bus which goes to the local ski slopes. We picked Patscherkofel, which was Vince’s favorite, and while we got there around 11, we waited to sign me up for a private lesson, then until noon to go out. I had 90 minutes to ski before the lesson and I was quite cautious, but by the bottom of the first run, an easy slope, I was just as good as I’d ever been. We went down the green one again and then the red/intermediate all the way to the lodge. The snow was man-made and slushy. I was sweating a lot - it was probably only in the 40s even at the top of the mountain. After the morning rain, it had been foggy, but the fog burned off by 1:30 and it was a lovely, sunny day with blue skies.

I met Stefan at the ski school and we went to the top in the gondola. I was a buffoon, dropping my poles in the car and unable to keep my skis together when we got on. We did a run down the green trail and worked on my carving turns, hand positions, and weight shift and I could tell a difference right away. We rode back up and went down the Olympic Run, which was the route Franz Klammer went down in his epic downhill race in 1976. This time we worked on quick turns and trying to ski parallel. I was getting it and full of confidence.

I found Vince at the gondola station at the top for our planned rendezvous. I went in and got a drink - they called it “ski juice',” and it tasted like concentrated Kool-aid. It was my first drink in 6 hours (!). Vince was pleased with how well I was doing and so was I.

We did two short runs and then headed down the Olympic Run for our last run of the day, as Vince was getting tired (he is 67). I was skiing better than ever, and I was finally enjoying it. The lodge came into view, but there were a bunch of men out walking around in the snow ahead of me. What were they doing? Was I on the wrong slope? All of this happened in less than 10 seconds. I looked around and there was another trail to the left, but there was a snow fence between me and it. As I got close to the men, the snow fence ran out and I thought I better cross over to the other run to avoid them. As I did, I hit something: a ditch, it looked like, but my left ski was jerked violently off and I immediately went down while moving fairly fast. I hit on my back and left buttock, but I was spinning to my left, and I couldn’t stop my right ski from hitting the ground. I couldn’t tell at this point if I was up or down, but i was spinning around my right ski, which was stuck. My knee was torqued in a terrible way; I thought my knee would dislocate and started a loud groan of pain and effort as I resisted. Just then my binding opened and my boot came out. The pain had been intense but brief. I was now on my back. I looked over and one of the maintenance men was staring at me with a very concerned look on his face. I did a quick mental surveillance and felt ok. I was able to get up quickly and he moved on. My knee was definitely injured, but how bad? I was able to move around without discomfort and then had to work for about a minute to get my right ski out of the snow. The tip was buried vertically nearly to the front of the bindings in the slushy snow. I had to rock it back and forth and then pull hard several times to get it out. I’d never seen anything life that!

I got myself together and skied the rest of the way down trying not to stress the knee, though it did not hurt. I found Vince and got my shoes changed. The knee felt weird but not painful. I thought I probably tore my meniscus again, which would be terrible, but it could have been way worse. We took the bus back and I took some ibuprofen and stretched. We met with Angelika again. If my knee was okay, we were going to go to my favorite place, the Stubaier Glacier, the next day, and the bus left at 8:45. Vince was excited to help me get my turns down even better on its wide slopes. It turned out Angelika was an architect, and she knew Zaha Hadid and the famous Austrian/Italian alpinist Reinhold Meissner, for whom she’d designed a climbing museum at one of his castles.

After dinner I did more stretching and foam rolled my legs. It didn’t hurt much, but neither did my other meniscal tears before. Vince went to bed at 7:50pm again.

Tuesday, 2/25: I had my best night’s sleep and my knee never hurt. I got up and moved around well. I decided to go for a run to see how it would feel - it would tell me a lot, especially whether I could get away with skiing. I started my warm up, which begins with 100 Ups (knee lifts in place), and with the first one on the right leg, I almost screamed, it hurt so sharply. Not good. I tried modifications, but every time it hurt so bad I couldn’t do it correctly. The pain was when I straightened my leg all the way at the knee. Should I go back to bed? Not now - I was wide awake. I decided to see if I could run, so I did the rest of the warm up and went out. It was not good weather again. After walking for a little bit I was cold, so I started to jog. It hurt. Crap. I kept going to see if it would hurt less, and it did, some. I ended up jogging three miles, and by the end it didn’t hurt as much, but within about 20 minutes of getting done it was getting tighter and sore. There was no way I should ski.

I talked with Vince before and during breakfast. He was sure the bindings on my right ski were set wrong and determined to take the skis back and get our money refunded. I wasn’t so sure, and didn’t care too much about the money. I was really disappointed because I was in such great shape and now was injured and would have to miss my races, maybe get another surgery and go through another rehab. Plus I was ruining Vince’s trip in addition to mine.

We walked to the ski shop with my stuff. Vince got into an argument right away with the ski technician who showed him he was wrong about the binding (it was hard to see, but it was true). They ended up refunding my money but not Vince’s, but it was all contentious. After that, he decided to ski to try to get his money’s worth, so we chose the tram to Fulpmes to try to ski Schlick 2000, which he’d never been to. We just missed the tram and ended up waiting for another 40 minutes on the street for the next one (we might have been able to catch the other train around the corner if we’d known the route better). It was a scenic 1 hour ride to the town. I helped Vince carry his stuff up the half mile walk to the base of the mountain and then went in search of lunch. It was 2:15, and I found out there were no restaurants still serving food after 2pm in the village. I did get a banana sundae, then walked around a bit before heading back. I relaxed in the room until Vince got back about an hour after I did. He had loved it there, which was great. We had a quiet evening otherwise except for Vince expounding on forestry the whole evening.

Wednesday, 2/26: This was my best night’s sleep. I only woke up twice. My knee was a little sore and stiff, so I did some stretching and foam rolling. After that it did well the rest of the day, which was good. After breakfast, Vince came up to sit on his bed for a while before we left for the town of Seefeld together. He started in on freedom of religion and the Constitution, about activist judges and the Supreme Court rulings establishing the separation of Church and State, using as their primary evidence Jefferson’s letters to the Danbury Baptist Church, going on and on, and I finally had enough. I said I disagreed with him; he was basing his discussion on the motives of the Founding Fathers, but they were, with the exceptions of George Mason and James Wilson, douchebag slave owners who caved to the other slave owners and discriminated against women systematically. What they thought doesn’t matter; the Supreme Court ruled properly; religion may serve some positive community function and help with overall moral norms, but it is also misused by too many people to control the lives of others, many of whom do not share their beliefs. It was a big blow up, and, because he is so hard of hearing, I had to shout. We definitely didn’t get along the same way the rest of the week, but I couldn’t take it anymore.

We walked to the train station, the Hauptbahnhoff, which was about a half mile away. It was only 9 euros each for a round trip ticket and I treated since I’d gotten my money back with Vince’s advocacy. We were to leave on track 22, but where the sign said 22, no train was showing up. With about 5 minutes to go, I looked around and found that track 22 was actually over by the station behind another train and not where we were standing. Phew. We got nice seats and enjoyed the ride; it went through a bunch of tunnels on the way and had nice views of the valley.

I liked Seefeld a lot. It is the site of a cross country skiing center and the trails that were skied during the Olympics. There were at least two small downhill ski fields there as well. There were a few inches of fresh snow. It was pretty. We walked all over and then had lunch. I was going to treat Vince but he said he wasn’t hungry. He had only a tall beer, while I had an absolutely delicious potato-mushroom soup, one of the best bowls of soup ever, followed by a whole lake trout with excellent seasoning, more potatoes and veggies.

Views from the train to Seefeld; then the town, with the cross country ski area.

We were able to catch the 12:46 train back. The weather quickly took a turn for the worse and we could see a storm blowing in behind us. When we got back it was extremely windy and snowing on our walk back. I was coated with snow. Vince decided to go sit in the lobby to read, which I had been planning to do, as they had really nice chairs, so I stayed in the room and had a snack. It wasn’t long before Vince burst back in moaning about feeling bad and spent some time in the toilet. He came out feeling terrible, and laid in the bed for a while, going to the toilet one more time before dozing off. He woke up moaning and dashed into the toilet and vomited for a while. I left and went to the gym after making sure he didn’t want any supplies or sports drinks. I brought the cleaning supplies from the gym back when I was done and he cleaned everything thoroughly, which I really appreciated. The Russians had all left that morning and we had a good laugh imagining all of them with food poisoning on the bus and planes back.

I went to dinner alone and Vince never got anything to eat. It was the first night without the buffet, but very peaceful. Vince stayed up a bit later, but we were still in bed early.

Thursday, 2/26:

I went to the gym early and took all the cleaning supplies I’d borrowed back. I tried to ride their bike but it was really uncomfortable and my Kindle kept turning off when I switched the pages while it was in the bike holder, so I gave up after 21 minutes and my knee felt worse. Sad!

Vince went to breakfast early and was feeling better. When I went it was super crowded so I ate my bowl of cereal and yogurt in a lounge and left within 5 minutes. I was sitting around looking at stuff on the internet and realized I could go up the Funicular to Hungerburg any time. For some reason I thought nothing opened until 10am.

It is just a short walk from the hotel to the station. There are not many signs explaining how it worked, but there were gates blocking the entrance. I walked around and found a ticket machine. I was able to figure it out despite the glare and angle of the screen; I had to rock my body back and forth to block the light quickly and peer in. I think it was around 9 euros for a return trip. I went back to the gates and couldn’t for the life of me get them to work - if I stepped in they would turn, but the opposite way. So I stepped back and noticed another gate to the side - THAT was the entrance and I had been trying to get in the EXIT! Just then an old man pushing a baby carriage came up and tried to help me get in, but I figured it out just as he arrived. I must have been quite a sight as he was walking up. I got on and it went back into town instead of up the hill, and some people were looking at me like I was strange when I didn’t get off at the lower station. So, not the best start to my tourist adventure.

It was a short ride with a stop or two along the way. In Hungerburg there is a gondola to the Seegrube ski slopes, but I didn’t pay to go up that. The views were fine in Hungerburg, and I strolled around the town about as long as I could.

I walked into the botanical gardens, which were fairly barren, but someone stopped me for directions and I knew where to tell them to go (to the Funicular!!).

When I got back, Vince was getting ready to go skiing. I was pleased. I waited for him to leave then walked around the block to an Indian restaurant I’d seen and was finally able to eat a vegetarian meal! From there I walked to the nearby Hofburg, which was the old palace and now a museum. It was very big, with lots of portraits and old furniture. The one thing I liked was the second floor great room; it had painted ceilings with mirrors on the floor in various spots so you could look at the ceiling without craning your neck! Unfortunately there was no photography allowed.

I walked through the old city again and looked for the Lindt Chocolate superstore. My friend Roumeen loves Lindt chocolate, but she insisted I not buy any for her, but I wanted to get some for myself. I couldn’t find it, but stopped at a bakery and got a chocolate cookie (GOOD!) and a chocolate heart filled with mousse (GOOD!) and a local chocolate bar. As I walked back it was very windy. At one corner, waiting to cross, a baseball hat without a head in it went flying by and then blew along the street faster than a human could run to get it. I ate the two sweets when I got back. Vince returned soon after; he had trouble seeing in the sun with no trees along the trails.

We each recovered and then had a quiet dinner of sea bass and veggies over pearled couscous. It started to snow heavily later, and we sat around and then went to bed.

Friday, 2/27:

I slept well and stayed in bed until 7 since the bike thing didn’t work out the day before. I went to breakfast without showering and then never showered the rest of the day until the evening. Vince decided to take the Fulpmes tram to ski and I went out to catch the sightseer bus. I didn’t know it, but that bus doesn’t start until 10am, and it didn’t come to my stop until 10:10 (it makes its rounds every 40 minutes) I had to kill 30 minutes walking around the botanical garden again (once was enough). The bus was big, but like the Portugal tour bus, it had audio you could listen to on headphones. It was nice; I got some context for the neighborhoods and the local history.

I got off at the Schloss Ambras, a castle on a hill overlooking the city. There were few signs but I figured out where to go and got a ticket inside. Just as I went through the turnstile, a school class of about 20 7 year olds came in. I hurried off to stay ahead of them, but their cacophony was never far away. Initially there is an armory, with lots of weapons and suits of armor. After a set of stairs, I was back outside and then to the Chamber of Arts and Wonders, which was the highlight. It is a small set of rooms with all sorts of neat art and crafts the family had acquired: small carvings, paintings on alabaster, detailed small sculptures, and then around the corner, larger paintings and even two stuffed sharks!

The castle, the armory, some of the sculpture, a special wooden door, and then the great hall, with portraits of various figures on the wall and an elaborate wooden ceiling.

After that cool museum, I walked over the the next buildings to tour the great room, with its many portraits and impressive wood carvings. There was a chapel downstairs that had beautiful silver chalices and also multiple indulgences. Upstairs there was a glass museum and the odd but interesting portraits of the postmasters: all a family called Taxis, and they took a commission from the emperor to set up a delivery service for the whole country and pulled it off to great effect, changing life significantly for everyone in the area (!).

I had just enough time to go to the bathroom and walk to the bus stop to catch the bus. We wound through that part of the city to the Panorama exhibit, a 360 degree view of a battlefield during the war with the French, which the plucky Austrians won the first two times but failed the third. I didn’t go in and walked around instead and took photos. It was a bit gloomy, but the views were good.

Several views of the city, with the ski jump, and then a special cemetery, but I can’t remember who was buried there.

By now it had cleared and was absolutely beautiful out. I ate lunch at a Himalayan/Nepali restaurant near our hotel and it was great: a combo of vegetarian dishes, a small salad, a huge glass of black currant juice, and some spicy ice cream for 15 euros.

I went back and rested my knee a bit and then went out into the rapturous sun to do a last bit of sight seeing and to find the Lindt shop. It was in a big shopping center off the main street that was poorly marked, and I bought a bonanza of chocolates for only 17 euros. On my walk back I got gelato at a place that always had a long line in the evening but hardly anyone in it then (it was good!). Vince got back at a decent time and had a great last day of skiing at a place he’d not been to. We went to our last meal, which was very good, and then we spent the rest of the evening packing, since we had to get up very early to catch our flight.

Saturday, 2/29:

I had a rough night, with Vince coughing and clearing his throat for an hour after we turned off the lights, then snoring loudly from 3am on until I gave up and got out of bed around 4am. We had to leave at 5am, taking a taxi. There were a lot of people checking in for three different flights, and ours, of course, was unmarked. But we figured it out after Vince asked (we were initially in line for the flight to Moscow, which looked pretty full).

I waited with Vince there and then in Frankfurt before he left for Atlanta. I was not so sure we parted on the best of terms, but we’d made the best of it in a way, with his illness and my knee injury definitely taking the shine off.

Innsbruck is a lovely, historic small city and a great spot for winter or summer vacations if you love the outdoors. It is also reasonably priced and tourist friendly. You can enjoy it very much using public transportation as well.

Here is a link to the slideshow, which I narrate, with a soundtrack by my nephew, Andrew O’Rourke.

https://youtu.be/2HV8MIwcyYI

I always appreciate comments!

Portugal 2020

Looking at Porto from the edge of the Ponte de D. Luis I bridge

As 2019 drew to a close, I thought I needed to get away in January again. Somewhere warm would be nice, but warmer than Washington, D.C. was all I needed. It looked like I would go solo as well, which made the short notice planning much easier. I thought about Morocco since I have not been to northern Africa, but I didn’t know enough about it and didn’t want to do much research. I settled on Portugal since a friend of mine had just been there in the past few months and it had a lot of buzz anyway.

There are no direct flights from the DC airports to Lisbon, so I settled on a hodgepodge trip leaving from National Airport to Newark and then Lisbon, returning via Heathrow to Dulles. While in Portugal, I opted for only one night outside of Lisbon, in the northern city of Porto, which came highly recommended (though on research seemed most famous for its meat consumption and Port wine, no great motivations for me).

As the days approached, I watched the weather closely. At one point the forecast was for rain every day; by the time I was ready to leave, it was actually supposed to be nice most of the time, with overnight lows in the low 50s and highs right around 60F. That also made packing easier, as I planned on taking only a small carry on bag and a back pack. Even those weren’t full despite all my running gear.

Getting there:

The only pretrip drama was some nagging achilles tendon discomfort in my left ankle and an exposure to influenza B from my very last patient the Friday afternoon before I left, who, of course, was not wearing the mask we told him to wear when I walked into the exam room, and who had also had his flu shot (spoiler - I did not get sick). I cruised an easy 10 mile run Saturday morning. It is very easy to get to the airport via Metro, and I was through security and to the gate 55 minutes after leaving my apartment.

The plane at National had a mechanical problem that took an extra 30 minutes to fix, but I had plenty of time to wait at Newark. It was unseasonably warm everywhere on the east coast and very windy, so the terminal was warm and there were some delays. They announced our plane to Lisbon was not flyable and needed to be replaced, and that resulted in a nervous 90 minute delay and a gate change, but then we were off. It was not crowded at all, and I had two side seats to myself. I didn’t watch any entertainment and tried only to sleep. Not much sleeping was accomplished, but I wasn’t too tired when I got to Lisbon.

Everything went smoothly at the airport, and I was able to score an installed SIM card and set up from a Vodafone booth there for only 15 or 20 euros on my old phone. I wanted it mostly to be able to use google maps while walking around and running since the city seemed confusing. It was a very wise move. I took the Metro into the city - it was only 5 miles from the airport to my hotel, but there was no easy way, so the Metro was easiest and cheapest. I only spent 15 euros on a card and it worked the whole week for buses and trains.

I had the usual trouble getting my bearings on arriving at street level at the Marques de Pombal Metro stop. My hotel was very convenient to there and the tour bus stops, so I had chosen wisely. They stowed my bags and gave me a map with ideas about what to do.

Sunday, January 12th:

It was an absolutely beautiful day, though a bit brisk, so I decided to go to the most photogenic area, Belem, which is not reachable by Metro. It required catching a bus. The desk clerk tried to explain where to go to catch that bus, and it sounded easy, so I didn’t pay much attention and he didn’t describe it well. I ended up going to the wrong stop (it was just for the 727 at night. Fortunately some guides who were there finally asked me what I was doing waiting there and told me where to wait.). While there I’d been hassled for several minutes by a sunglasses salesman. He was like a horsefly. The proper stop was only about 100 yards away and the bus came just as I arrived. I got a seat; by the time we got to Belem about 30 minutes later it was packed.

Belem is a popular tourist area, with lots of shops, restaurants and cafes, and a few museums as well as the large former Monastery. The major landmark is the Torres de Belem, the Tower of Belem, which was initially used to monitor the harbor and control ship traffic, but at later times was a prison and office space. It is not impressively large or ornate, but it looks nice where it is and draws a good crowd. I headed over there, crossing the streets and parks between the bus stop and the river/seaside (the Tagus River officially becomes the Atlantic Ocean just past the Tower). There is an impressive statue/monument to the exploring tradition of the Portuguese at the waterside. From there it was a longer walk than one would think to the Tower, right along the waterfront, but having to go back inland because of a marina or two. I passed a small shop selling the popular and renowned Pastel de Natas, the sweet of choice in the country. It looked like a good place to eat lunch later.

1. The Monastery, 2. A park with a nice fountain, 3. The Monument to the Explorers, 4. Looking upstream in the river on the waterfront.

I took a few photos at the Tower and then walked past it. There was a war memorial with guards marching from guard post to guard post every 30 minutes with hardly anyone watching, and then a huge, very interesting building that was at least partly an auditorium. The touristy waterfront area ended about there.

I walked back on the waterfront and got my lunch, a smoked salmon wrap and a pastel de nata (they are made of a thick, sweet custard in a flaky crust). it was good enough. There was an elevated walkway I took over the tracks and roads and then saw signs for a museum of contemporary art, the Museo Colcao Berardo. It was only 5 euros to get in. It was really nice, with many strange sculptures. After I left, I tried briefly to find the Pastels de Belem recommended by one of my patients, but I had no luck. While I was in the museum I got the aching fatigue that hit me during the day I arrived at Ireland in September, and I decided to call it a day. I found the return bus stop for the 727, but it took about 30 minutes for a bus to come (4 #728s went by while I was waiting).

I found the hotel easily this time and got fully checked in by a different chap. The room was nice, though small and basic, on the 6th floor above the street. I laid down with my feet up and posted to instagram and sent some emails quickly before deciding to risk a nap. I didn’t fall asleep but felt really disoriented for a few minutes and then gave up. I got dressed and went out for a stroll and to find some food. I walked down the main street, the Avenida de Liberdade. It is very wide, with a large central walking area, a bit like Las Ramblas in Barcelona, except there was absolutely nothing happening on it. It takes a while to get to the happening areas, and I wandered through several narrow and hilly neighborhoods before coming out on a plaza in an area called Restauradores. I kept wandering. There were street performers drawing crowds there, but I was not interested in giving attention to attention-seekers. There is another area where cars are restricted and there were white things hanging from lines above the walkways, with dining areas in the street. I finally stopped for dinner at a nearly empty place that had a nice looking assortment of baked goods and some seafood dishes. It ended up not being good - bland food, expensive and the desserts all tasted several days old (I bought two to go as well). It was a beautiful night and I enjoyed the walk, though I had to get around shows by the same street performers I’d passed in the other part of the city. There was a large crowd outside one building on a narrow street - it was for a Madonna show. She apparently is living in Portugal part of the year. The crowd broke into a version of “Like a Prayer” as I walked past while a film crew recorded them. I couldn’t wait to get back to listen to my iPod to get that song out of my head!

Monday, January 13th:

I went to bed early and spent 10 hours in bed, though I was awake a bit from time to time. It got light out earlier than I thought so I was able to get out running on a good schedule. I had plotted a route through a series of parks, but I couldn’t find the transition to the third park. I stopped a few times to take photos and kept going the general direction I wanted to and found a curvy path on the other side of a bridge. On my way back I found the path I’d missed and managed to get back to the first park more or less by accident, spotting an outdoor gym on the way.

The hotel had a nice buffet for breakfast for 10 euros. I ate way more than I usually would because I planned to be out touring all day on one of the hop on and off bus tours. The stop was nearby, and I was able to pay at the hotel and get a voucher. The guides at the bus stop I’d waited at incorrectly the day before got me all set up. I got on the bus and no one said anything other than I was in the right bus. It turned out there was an audio program and headphones we had to have. I figured it out, finally getting the channel to English, by the second stop. No one seemed to get out, even as we passed the third stop, a scenic overlook with a nice view of the city. I decided to get out at stop 4, which was the first stop on the waterfront. I was the only one.

Buildings on the waterfront with a view of the Praca de Comercio with the Castel de St. Jorge on the hill overlooking it, and the main arch.

I continued to wander around and decided to go to stop #6 on the tour to get back on the bus. I couldn’t find that stop, so I walked to stop #7 and couldn’t find that, either. I finally gave up and went back to the arch, where I was pretty sure I could find stop #5. I did, and it wasn’t long until the small bus came by. I was able to get a seat and get plugged in. This driver at least talked, but I am not sure to whom (the audio through the system was prerecorded and prompted by the driver as we approached the area. She was talking the entire time, but I could not tell who might be listening). We went all around where I’d just been and then up the hill to the Castel de S. Jorge, and I got off there. There were no signs or instructions anywhere. I paid .5 euros to pee in a public restroom, then I heard a man telling three men the direction of the Castel. I headed there, and I saw a street sign saying it was a right turn. That road was a steep hill, so I walked up it and noticed a restaurant with a sign saying, “Healthy Food.” I went inside. There was a small family eating at a table outside, but the inside was empty. Then a pretty young woman came in. I asked her how it worked and she got me settled at a table. She was the lone employee and had only been in Lisbon 4 months from Brazil. I ordered a bean salad without sausage and lupins and olives with a fresh lemonade. It was delicious. Lupin beans are really good, with waxy skin. She told me to go up the road and I would find the gate to the Castel where I could pay.

I forgot to show them my tour bus ticket, which was supposed to get me a discount, but it was only 10 euros to get in. There were a bunch more restaurants and street performers up there. The gate was nice and it opened into a beautiful park area, with old stone walls and isolated trees. I would have loved to spend the day there. The views of the city were great and I loved walking all over the grounds. The walls had been restored and it was well done. There were enough people to get in your way at times, but overall it felt unhurried. They had one area cordoned off for an archeological dig, but otherwise we got to wander all over. I was able to find a free bathroom before leaving, which was great, because I had a long wait for the bus again.

The first shot is the bus stop and the road I had to walk up;, then the garden/plaza I loved at the Castelo de S. Jorge; various views then of the walls and city from the Castel.

The bus finally came and many people got off. The driver never said a word and zoomed back through the city, with only one stop, and then to the circle at the Marques de Pombal. I got out and walked north of the circle to see that neighborhood, It appeared to be more of a business area rather than touristy, but it was nice to wander around and I got back after about 45 minutes. After my emails and instagram posts, I went to the desk to ask for dinner advice and discuss getting the train on Wednesday, as I couldn’t figure out which station had trains to Porto. She got me squared away with the trains, but the restaurant around the corner didn’t open until 7, and it was 6:30, so I wandered around and just happened on one the clerk the day before had recommended. It wasn’t the same name, but it was ok and at least it had something with “vegetable” on the menu. I got grilled sardines (ah the bones!), a vegetable soup (these always seemed to be pureed veggies), and a dessert that was frozen solid but a really good sorbet once it melted, all for a third less money than the night before. it had been a long day and I was glad to get back and get ready for bed.

January 14th, Tuesday:

I ran roughly the direction I had walked on Sunday evening, through the tourist areas, past the arch and to the waterfront. There was a lot of construction, so I had to dodge a bit back and forth, but managed 5 miles, coming back a slightly different way.

The weather was not supposed to be as nice, with rain in the afternoon, so I planned to go the Oceanarium/Aquarium and the area around it, which was a park designed and built for a world’s fair gathering in 1998. I missed the sign for the yellow subway line and traversed the entire station before getting back to it, and then connected to the red. The train was modestly crowded and most of the people got off at the Oriente stop with me. Turns out that station is also the main station for trains to Porto, so I would make the same trip the next day. It connects directly to a large shopping mall that was pretty crowded. The far side of the mall opens onto the waterfront, which was very wide open. It had a gondola that went from one end to another, a huge stadium just for concerts and entertainment, and then on the southern end was the Oceanarium. There were large enclosed bodies of water interspersed. It was windy and cloudy, but I went for a stroll at the waterside on a pretty empty walkway to the Oceanarium. My timing was good as it just started to rain when I got there.

I’ve been to lots of aquariums, and this one was one of the nicer ones. It had a jaw-dropping video exhibition called “One” in a corridor with 5 large video screens on each side that showed immersive undersea footage mixed with humans talking about the ocean. I stayed for the whole thing, which was probably 25 minutes long, but most of the people just wandered through. From there I took a walkway across to the main building.

The main building used an interesting concept - it had a huge central tank with lots of little corner ecosystems and many varieties of fish and other sea life swimming around. There were hallways all around it on several levels with lots of viewing points, and on the outside of the hallways were smaller exhibits (frogs, jellyfish, etc.). Then there were large open exhibits with birds, penguins, and then sea otters, which were so cute it hurt to watch them. After I was done there, I went back across to the first building and ate lunch at the cafeteria, where they had a three course meal for just 10 or 12 euros: nice veggie soup, then veggie lasagna (good) with potatoes and white rice (STARCH!). It also included a runny chocolate mousse.

Fueled up, I went to the last exhibit, which was a series of aquariums designed by a now deceased nature photographer from Japan who also studied growing different plants in aquariums. They were beautiful but also very crowded and noisy. It was still raining, so I went to the store but didn’t buy anything.

It had stopped raining, so I went for another stroll on the waterfront. It looked ominous, so I headed then for the mall and made it time again to avoid the rain. The very first store inside was an Amorino, one of the best businesses in the world. I got four flavors of sorbetto in a medium cup and savored it while taking a rest. Then I wandered the shopping mall looking for possible gifts but came up empty. I took the Metro back downtown but got off two stops before mine and wandered around that area before walking back, returning right around 4pm.

The night before I had stopped at a place just across the street from the hotel, even going inside, to find no one around. I waited a little later this night and went there again as they had one or two nice vegetarian options. When I walked in (the restaurant was below street level), there was a lone man eating at a table to the right. A host came out and I said, “One for dinner?” He said, “Yes, “ and gestured for me to go over to a nice table on the side near the only other person there. I had not even made it there before another man walked in and said, “Dinner for one?” I thought to myself, smiling, this was the lonely guy’s place to dine on a Tuesday night. I had a bowl of vegetable soup (this item was on nearly every menu and was nearly identical, with the only difference the type of bread they served with it), a very tasty pasta with vegetables, and a dessert that was a creme brulee parfait (it seemed every restaurant had their desserts premade and available quickly, but all nearly frozen solid. This was delicious anyway). The server had just taken the dishes away when the door opened and a huge crowd came in. I was probably 5 minutes from leaving at that point, but while the 50-60 people got to tables and got drink orders and some starters, dinner for one Terry waited over 30 minutes to get his check and leave. Overall it wasn’t terrible, but they were Americans and loud talkers. Must have been a huge tour group. After that I appreciated my 1 minute walk back to the hotel and an early bedtime.

January 15th, Wednesday:

I set out to do the run I had planned the first day and made it work. It was fun, and on the way back I stopped at the outdoor gym and did three sets each of pull-ups alternating with dips. I was pleased I could do a set of ten to start despite not doing many pull ups of late.

I ate my nice breakfast, packed and then took the Metro back to the Oriente station - all very easy, and got my ticket there without any trouble - 31 euros. It was a nice train and I had a seat in an uncrowded car. I’d taken an apple with me from breakfast and got a snickers at a store and ate them on the way. Once we arrived in Porto, I followed the crowd leaving to a pick up spot and didn’t see any taxis. I needed to get to the apartment I’d reserved for the day at 3 and it was now 2:52. I asked a guy driving by and he said taxis were on the other side - this was for Ubers and personal pick-ups. I made it over there and hired a taxi without trouble, but he did not speak any English. I had the printed address and he took me there in just a few minutes. I couldn’t get in, and waited outside a while. Finally I hit a buzzer button and the guy replied he would be right down - he was getting someone else settled.

Pedro was a nice guy with unfortunate breath. I still paid close attention to all the instructions, including taking out the garbage, and he had a great map with tips for what I could get done at that hour of the day. Since I was only there for a night, I needed to get moving. The weather looked grim, but he thought I had two hours before the rain would come. I was as ready for it as I could be.

The city is very pretty, with a good mix of the old and new, looking like a hilly Florence. I found the downtown quickly and passed the old train station on my way to the tower. The Clerigos Tower is part of a Catholic Church building complex that houses an old, lovely church and a museum filled with old furniture and information about earlier eras in Porto. I wanted to get to the tower top as soon as I could as it was supposed to rain soon, so I skipped some of the exhibits thinking I could come back (turns out I couldn’t). The climb was up narrow, twisty stairs, with an occasional person squeezing by on the way down. There were windows and a lower observation area that I thought was the top before finding an even narrower stairway to the top. It was raining and windy by then, but I took some photos and videos before heading back down.

The first view is from the lower deck. It is easy to see why I thought of Florence while I was here (it is much hillier, though). 2nd view is through the stone wall, and then last two from the top, in the rain.

A block or so from the tower is a famous bookstore that may have a Harry Potter connection. I did not go in (you have to buy a 5euro voucher you may spend on the inside in order to enter at all), but I noticed another Amorino there and got another 4 flavor medium cup and took a short break from the rain.

My plan now was to go to the river and then follow it to the famous Ponte de D. Luis 1 bridge, cross that and then see the city as the lights come on. On the way, I saw what I had been looking for for presents: a chocolate shop. I bought bars of Portuguese chocolate (made in Portugal with chocolate from Ecuador - they were delicious!!). The woman offered to put them in a special bag in case it rained more, but I said I didn’t need it (turns out, I did). From there I walked down the steep streets to the waterfront, arriving just as the rain started to pick up.

The first is a street scene, then looking back at the tower from near the book store, and finally the riverfront with the bridge in view.

I walked quickly, hoping to find some shelter at the bridge, but my pants were quickly soaked through and I had my cameras and the soaked bag of chocolates held precariously inside my goretex jacket. I crossed the bridge, but water was dripping from the other levels. Finally on the other side I gave in and took shelter under an overhang across the street from the bridge. While I was there, people came and went, getting picked up by friends or Uber drivers. It was now dark as the rain let up enough to let me venture back to my apartment to change. The first challenge would be getting up the hill from the river after crossing the bridge, then finding the street in the dark.

There is a walkway adjacent to the bridge on the Porto side that goes steeply up stairs mostly to the level of the rest of the old city. It took a while but was not very fatiguing. I had an idea where I was and started back, but I gradually lost confidence and began checking my phone in the dark and the rain. I kept just missing the place before finally getting on more familiar ground and getting to it. It was a very satisfying moment.

After drying out a bit (I did not have the heat on, but acquiesced with a space heater to help dry my clothes), I went out to get some groceries for breakfast and to get dinner. I wandered a bit, again in the dark and rain, finding Cafe Santiago, one of the places with a highly regarded version of the Porto staple, the Francesinha. There are many varieties, but it is usually several different seasoned or marinated meats with some cheese stuffed in a bread pocket and drenched with a flavorful gravy. My vegetarian self said, “When in Rome…” and got one as well as a vegetable soup. It was good enough, not epic, but filled me up (along with a piece of lime pie) enough for the long night in the apartment. There was a grocery store on the way back (clutch!) and I was able to get some muesli and two small bottles of kefir to eat it with.

Thursday, January 16th:

It was a noisy night. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was on a busy street. There was a frequent sort of groaning noise, like a plane flying overhead or someone pushing a heavy wheeled cart. Anyway, I ended up sleeping later than I planned and it was busy rush hour by the time I got out to run. Fortunately, my run came off great. I found the big new bridge and ran across it (windy, but nice, little bit squeamish as it is very high up over the Rio Douro). On the other side I took some photos then worked my way on side and back streets to the area of the old bridge and ran around that part of the town, picking my way among the pedestrians.

The view from the far side of the big new bridge (Porto de Freixo), then three shots from a small observation park near the Luis 1 bridge. The sides of the river were more like a gorge or canyon than most cities.

I ran across the top level of the bridge, which is reserved for pedestrians and the metro trains (I didn’t want to do much hill climbing), stopped at a church I’d seen the day before, and then was able to find my way back to the apartment by noting the landmarks I’d passed the night before in the rain.

I ate my cereal and kefir, cleaned up, and took the trash out. Porto, and it looked like Lisbon did this also, has dumpsters in every neighborhood, and the residents take their garbage to them. From there I walked with my luggage 10 minutes to the Sao Bento station, where, with a few queries, I was able to find the lockers. They had minimal explanation, but an old man came over as I was staring at the directions and explained it to me. It involved a deposit, then a code, then shutting your stuff inside. A code to open the door was then generated and you needed it to get the things back out.

The metro there was nothing like Lisbon’s. Here you had to pay in advance, and the fee was different for various zones, all referenced in tiny print on a long sheet. I peered hard at it for a long time before the guy next to me asked if I needed help. I tried to explain where I wanted to go and he spoke a bit of English. We sorted it out and it was around 2.5 euros to go to the station I wanted. He was coincidentally headed the same way, so we went through the station together and took the same train to the place where we needed to change trains. He was a sommelier from Italy in Porto to study the wines. He had enough time to go to one of the parks by the beach before heading back to Milan. I was able to take an earlier train since my route was shorted and we said arrivederci.

I needed some moments to get my bearings - thanks Google Maps - then set out on the walk to the Serralves Gallery, which was supposed to have one of the best contemporary art galleries. It was cloudy and windy with a constant threat of rain. Someone had told me it was only a 20 minute walk, but it was a legit 2+ miles. So, I was already a bit annoyed by the time I got there. On entering the building and confronting the desk for tickets, I had the sinking feeling I’d made a mistake coming out there. The male and female workers talked for a while, completely ignoring me, then unsmiling, told me how much it was (21euros!!), gave me no map or instructions and started talking again. The main installation, which took up most of the first floor and the basement, were portable chalkboard-like metal structures with garbage and the detritus of life - deflated basketballs, newspaper clippings, garbage, rope, and especially many polaroid photos, stapled or attached to them. Occasionally there was writing, with no translation, on them. I went through that as fast as I could, then looked for another exhibit and couldn’t find it. There was a video installation of a woman shouting in English lines from various movies, and the cafeteria, also on the second floor, was closed for a private function. So, I was done. It had only taken me about 20 minutes to see some of the worst art I’d ever seen. I at least went to bathroom, then left. The building is on a park-like grounds with trails and some outdoor art, but the majority was roped off and I was soon grumbling under my breath as I began my walk back.

I made it without getting rained on and caught the Metro to the Sao Bento station. I followed the instructions and paid the fee, but nothing happened. I did it again and again. Desperate, I tried a different coin and it worked! I took my stuff outside and took a cab, rather than try to figure out the metro again. I think it was 4 euros more and saved tremendous aggravation. I just missed the 1:40 train, so I had to wait an hour. I got a light lunch from a little coffee shop. It was an uneventful trip the rest of the way except for the Metro in Lisbon being jammed at rush hour. I now had to find my new hotel that was one stop farther on the line I had been relying on. It was dark, and google maps was not helpful. The station is at a junction of 5 or 6 roads, all of them curving in. The hotel was just out of sight, but I was very happy to find it, as I had to pee badly.

I went about a half mile down the road to a restaurant recommended by the front desk clerk, and it was good, but I was the only client the whole time. Aqua Bento promised traditional food. It was reasonably priced and very good. I had the family soup (bean), asparagus risotto (pleasantly citrussy), and a traditional pudding (very good). The host and server was a pleasant young chap and we chatted a lot of the time.

Friday, January 17th:

I had to get up early to run before a guided tour to Sintra, a nearby town of note. I’d noticed a little neighborhood just west of where I was staying that had straight streets with 90 degree intersections. It was so hard to get into that neighborhood and stay in it! I kept getting off course and into dead ends. But I eventually, with the help of my phone with internet, was able to do 5 miles, but it took longer than I’d planned, so I had to rush my prep and eat a quick breakfast (included) at the hotel (Hotel Sao Bento - very nice). The tour picked me up right on time in the lobby. We were in a minivan, with a family of three from Brazil in the back seat, me and two natives of Tajikistan in the second row, and the driver and another Tajik who spoke English shotgun. The guide was very nice and did a great job shepherding us where we needed to go. There was a lot of chatter and he had to speak in Portuguese to the people in the back and English to us. Then the woman in the front would translate to Tajik for her elderly mother. We got along well.

Sintra is a cute small city in the hills near the Atlantic coast. It is visited most because of the colorful and interesting summer palaces of the royal family built on a former monastery (Portugal had wisely banned the religious orders at some point in the 1800s) the king had taken a fancy to. We started in the town center, a junction of many roads and alley ways and with an big old building that housed the history museum for the town. Nothing other than a bakery had opened yet, and the guide advised us to get a special pastry famous in the region - like an eclair with powdered sugar instead of chocolate, and the custard had a mild apple flavor. I walked up and got my passes for the palaces and then wandered the photogenic streets until we reconvened.

From there we drove up to the Pena Palaces on a vertiginous number of twisty and narrow roads that seemed to double back to the downtown at least once. From the drop off point, it was a steep 500m walk up to the entrance to the palaces. The guide told us to go inside first and then take the outdoor photos. You are not allowed to take photos inside the palaces, but of course everyone was, and even right after the staff told them not to. And the shots were not even interesting! But I got through quickly - who cares about their bedroom furniture? You go to the Pena Palaces to photograph the exteriors, and they are spectacularly eye-catching and unusual. The original monastery portion was red, but yellow and gray enameled additions were added on with very different design principles. I went just about everywhere I could.

After going through the buildings, I went for a walk on the grounds. There were trails everywhere and I even got to the sides of the buildings on the steep other side. There were nice views of a fort on an adjacent hill.

It took a while to account for everyone, and I took advantage of a free toilet before we left. We drove back down the twisty roads and then to the coast. On the way we stopped for lunch at a restaurant popular with tour groups, The food was fine but it all took far too long.

The next stop was Cabo da Roca, the westernmost point on continental Europe. There was nice coastal scenery and a lot of people. There was also a monument for world peace which also has similar ones in other strategic spots around the world.

From there it wasn’t far to the “Mouth of Hell,” a rock formation along the coast with waves crashing through it. The tides were not that rough, but it was still interesting.

The final stop was Cascais, a seaside town with a scarcity of bathrooms, but once one was found, I had a nice ice cream with the Tajikistanis. This part could definitely be skipped if you are on your own, unless you want souvenirs (or ice cream). The ride back was not bad and then we were done, clocking in at 5:30.

There was a combination Indian/Italian restaurant a pleasant stroll up the hill from the hotel and I went there. The good thing about Indian food when you are alone is they get it to you fast, so I was not out late.

Saturday, January 18th:

It was raining hard when I got up, so I waited a bit to run. I wanted to run to the Tower of Belem, which I figured would be more than 10 miles. I finally set out and it rained most of the first 6 miles with wind in my face the whole way down as I tried to get on the running paths near the water, mostly failing. I took them on the way back all the way past the train station so it was easier to get back across from the waterfront and it ended up being 11 miles. It was a good accomplishment. Interestingly, it was an awesomely beautiful day by the time I was done running. I almost missed the free breakfast, but that was fine, and then I went to the 727 bus stop just down the street from the hotel to wait for the bus back to Belem. My mission was the monastery and the Pasteis de Belem.

I’d waited about 20 minutes for the bus when another bald guy called to me from across the street to see if that was the bus stop. He came over and we chatted a while, which was good, because I had to wait nearly an hour for the bus! He was an American from Portland, Oregon who had worked for various airlines over the years and then was let go in a cost cutting purge after the recession. He ended up in Vietnam teaching English and was in Lisbon on vacation. His chain smoking was annoying, but the time passed a bit quicker. The bus was already jammed when we got on. I worked my way to the back and got off a stop early by mistake. I enjoyed my walk down to Belem and saw the American again. He was opting to go to the Botanical Gardens first. I told him I was going to the Monastery. Turned out the Botanical Gardens were closed for maintenance, and I never saw him again.

I had to be reminded the tickets for the Monastery were down the street from their entrance. Included in the tour were two museums, one of archaeology that had finds from Lebanon, I think, or maybe Jordan, and there was also one on diamonds and gems. It passed the time, and then I went the Monastery. It was a disappointment, even on a beautiful day. It was lunch time, so I went to the Pasteis de Belem, which had a decent line, but there was a takeout section with no wait at all. I got two to go, planning to eat them in the botanical garden after I ate lunch. I found a nice, uncrowded restaurant with an impossibly cheap lunch that was quite good a block away. Then I found out the gardens were closed, and gave it the full effort, walking around the whole place looking for one open gate. So I went to a park across the street in Belem and forgot to add the cinnamon and sugar I got with them (!), but they were good.

At this point I was on the bored side. I looked for other things to do and found a museum, but it was for luxury carriages. So I waited another good bit of time for the bus back. I rested a bit when I got back and then remembered the outdoor gym. I walked up there with a camera and got a guy working out to video me doing 12 pull-ups and then did several more sets of other things. I was pleased and walked to some of the scenic overlooks in the park to take a few shots of the late afternoon sun. I could have done without this day, but I did get some exercise.

I went back to the restaurant I’d gone to the first night in this new neighborhood and was again the only customer despite the food being very good. The dessert was great - a pear in red wine sauce - super sweet.

I had to get up early Sunday to catch a taxi to the airport, which was very nice. I got more chocolate for presents and had an uneventful flight to London and then Dulles and an easy trip back from the airport.

TAKEAWAYS:

Traffic in Portugal is bad. Trains are OK.

The sidewalks are polished mosaics and very slippery and uneven. Made for slow running and tedious walking.

There are very few straight roads and it is not easy to walk around without a map.

The public transport in Lisbon was good, but the buses not dependable.

Food was not that expensive, but nothing was included and it was never an option to get tap water. Lodging is definitely available at a reasonable prince in January. The weather was a nice escape but not that great at this time.

https://youtu.be/1nKgIIunADM

That is the link to my video and slide show of the trip, only 10 minutes and has a voice over.

Hiking the Kerry Way in Ireland, September 2019

Prologue:  Originally I’d planned to hike in Newfoundland in August, but I found I was unmotivated and couldn’t make the plans. I knew I needed to take some time off, though, so I started looking for other options, and it didn’t take long for me to go back to Contours, the hiking trip company I worked with last year for my great trip to Wales. There was an option in Ireland that I could fit in my schedule in a part of Ireland I love: the Ring of Kerry, in the southwest. I anticipated cold, wet weather, but the scenery was guaranteed to be great. It wasn’t too expensive, and the package included transportation of my luggage from one lodging to another and taxi rides at a few points for me, as well as B&B type accommodations.

Pre-trip Concerns: I’d been having left hamstring problems since April, but I had sorted them well enough I was running up to 10 miles at a time, and I had also been doing walks around DC regularly to get tough enough. It could have been as much as 84 miles of hiking in addition to walking for meals, etc., and I had a goal of running 4-5 miles a day before the hikes. I was pretty sure I would be ok for all of that by the time I left, BUT the day before I started to get a scratchy throat and more nasal congestion. The weather reports were ominous, often calling for rain every single day, but they mellowed as the time approached.

Travel: The flights were a problem, and I ended up working only a half-day the Friday before leaving so I could get a direct flight to Dublin from Dulles. The odd part was it was cheaper to fly to Dublin and then the airport in County Kerry, about 20 minutes ride from the starting point in Killarney, than just to fly to Dublin (I saved about $70 booking it that way and avoiding the train fares – 3.5 hour train ride – but in the end the taxi rides were over $70US.) I also found a way to get to Dulles and back for less than $20. I left Friday, September 6th.

September 7, 2019, Saturday: Getting to Killarney

The flight was uneventful except for a lack of rest – the person next to me was nice, but she kept bumping me. I arrived in Dublin knowing I had a 7hour layover until the flight to Kerry. I had contacted Grace Chilombo, a dear friend from my times in Swaziland who moved to Ireland with her husband, Michael, around 2004. I stopped by there with my friend, Greg Wright, in 2015 while we were playing golf in Ireland and later took them to dinner in Dublin then. I arrived at 5:30am this time and had my stuff quickly and called her on my old cell phone, which I’d set up with a European SIM card before leaving. Unfortunately, I chose a POS company called Vodafone (one of the cell phone giants in Europe), and the phone would only allow me to call out, and I could only receive texts from Vodafone. I was able to call Grace a little after 6am and she came and got me.

I ate a bowl of cereal and had some bread there (my breakfast every day while there, though different cereals were served), and then we both ended up falling asleep on their couches watching cable news (after I’d failed to sort my phone out) and waiting for Michael to come home from a night shift at the nearby hospital and her two children to wake up. We got to have a nice long chat once everyone was there, and then Grace took me back. I left my flying toiletries bag in their bathroom, but I didn’t need it the rest of the trip.

The security at Dublin is relatively relaxed and there was an adequate waiting area for the domestic flights. I was trying to read but kept falling asleep, both in the waiting area and then on the plane, which was a small prop plane where I was jammed into a row with an overweight father whose family was sitting across the aisle. He quickly fell asleep with his head cocked back and his mouth fully agape (but not a sound out of him!). The airport at County Kerry was comically old-fashioned and small, and my bag came out quickly. I got the first taxi in the queue, and he was a nice chap who knew a lot about golf. He dropped me right at the B&B, The Abbey Lodge, and a kind woman answered my buzzing.

As we chatted, she seemed to question my sanity, both for the hiking and the plan to run prior. She did mention that morning a man who’d run the recent ultra marathon on the Kerry Way had arrived too early for his check in, so I was neither the most loony nor the most fit person there (at least with regards to trail running…). After settling in for a bit and getting my feet up, I went out for a walk around Killarney and then stopped in the bustling business district at an Italian restaurant in need of carbohydrates, especially since I’d not eaten anything other than an energy bar since breakfast. MEAL: Goat cheese with roasted veggies bruschetta and seafood risotto, followed by three scoops of ice cream (my notes mention the place, which was otherwise nice, played terrible pop music). I was again dozing off waiting for my check, so I made it a priority to get to bed early. I was in bed at 7:30 pm.

Sunday, September 8, 2019: Killarney to Kenmare (14 miles)

I took some melatonin before bedtime and slept well for me, staying in bed an incredible amount of time, just under 10 hours, much of it sleeping. It was still dark when I got up a little after 6am, knowing I had a taxi pick-up at 9:30 and wanting to run.

RUN: The last time I traveled to Ireland, in 2015, I ran pretty much every day, before or after playing golf, and LOVED it, especially in Killarney, which borders a large national park along lakes, scattered with both paved and unpaved trails with lovely views. This morning I felt a little stiff at the start, but I got in a good groove and ran down to Ross castle, a mostly intact stone building on a peninsula in the lake. The trails were great, and no one was around. It was also sunny, with a brisk wind, and in the mid 50s. I was in ecstasy. On the way back, while starting onto a relatively less used trail, a red deer leapt across the trail just in front of me and crashed into the brush on the other side. 5.25 miles!

I thought I had plenty of time, but while stuffing myself with muesli and yogurt I realized it was 9am. I got everything ready quickly and still had a little wait for the taxi, but I felt like I maybe hadn’t done all the business I would need to before I left. I was comforted by knowing I would be starting at the Muckross House, and going by the Torc Waterfall, both of which would have toilets. The taxi was on time and I was glad I took it – it was much farther to the Muckross House than I remembered.

HIKE:

I got all my gear in place and stared a long time at the map of the grounds trying to find the best way to proceed. I was wearing two layers of merino wool under a lightweight merino wool jacket, and as I set out, I could tell it was too much. The sun was shining and the breeze was lighter. I made a slightly wrong turn trying to avoid guys attempting to woo customers into their horse-driven jaunty cars, and still ended up having to turn a few down, but I found the main path south and enjoyed the lightly rolling terrain and lake views. I crossed under the main road and went up to the Torc Waterfall parking lot. The Kerry Way signs I’d seen at Muckross were nowhere. I found the toilets, went to the bathroom, took a layer off, and reviewed the directions I had. They were quite vague, but I did the best I could, getting to the waterfall, which is pretty small as waterfalls go, then heading up the steps.

Along the way I was to turn off to the left onto the Kerry Way trail, but there were no signs. I wandered up and down the hill looking for the trail, then finally pressed on, finding a sign that seemed to say it was to the right, and then I started down a steep, long hill. I grew concerned as I could hear traffic again; I was supposed to be heading far away from the road at that point. I stopped an older man coming up the hill who looked like he wouldn’t mind a break, and, though he didn’t know the area well, he thought I needed to walk back to the top of the hill. Time was wasting; the rains were to come later in the afternoon, and I was trying to avoid them. A bit of adrenaline kicked in as I was a bit steamed, and I raced up the hill. I took the only path off the trail I’d seen and saw a group of confused-looking young people standing at a junction of three trails, including the one I was on. They asked me if I knew where the trail to the Torc Waterfall was, and before I could tell them I was also lost, a short young woman came running down one of the other trails and we asked her where each of us was to go. Barely slowing down as she passed she told us to take the third trail, which was the farthest to the left. I joked to them that it was the universal trail for lost hikers, but they didn’t laugh.

I passed them as they were clearly lollygaggers and tried to put some distance between us so I wouldn’t have to listen to their chatter any longer than I had to. I quickly came to the Kerry Way signs and terrain described on my instructions. I was tempted to follow it back a ways to see where I had missed things, but then I would have had to pass those others again.

I left this relatively forested area and was on a country path, the old Kenmare Road, and it had nice views, though I could see it was clouding up. I kept the pace brisk and soon the others were out of sight (I could see back a way). There were a few hikers coming the other way, and then a bigger group with a guide. Right after them, the trail suddenly narrowed to a barely perceptible track through high bushes and grass. I was a little unsure, but eventually went ahead and finally, after 5 minutes or so, found a marker.  There was a nice spot with a waterfall I could have stopped for a snack at, but now I was in a hurry, so I limited my stops only to photos. It started to spritz rain around 12:30 and the wind picked up, but I wasn’t getting too wet. The terrain was more mountainous, ups and downs, and within an hour it was raining harder. I stopped to pee and suddenly people appeared behind me. I had no idea anyone was even close, so I picked up the pace through a flat section where I had to cross two streams, both flowing fast, on stones. The second was quite frightening: the stones were on the edge of a drop off in the water, and there was a very slack rope I could hold onto. I got to the middle and the next stone was about 4 feet away, about 2 feet below the one I was on, and very narrow. If I slipped, I would likely get hurt and very wet. I summoned my courage and went for it and made it. Phew. I took a photo of it, and the people behind came into view. I pressed the pace from then on – they were not going to catch me!

I started a long climb and passed a woman who was walking incredibly slow. I asked her if she was ok, seriously, and she cheerfully ignored me and asked how I was. “I am doing fine. I will be happy to be done, though.”

The rain came down steadier and steadier with an increase in the wind, and I finally  reached the high ground. Visibility was poor, and it seemed like I was in a cloud. I could see the dark shape of a man about 200m ahead, and he didn’t move the whole time I approached. He was in good spirits, and he even complained about the weather, which surprised me a bit since he seemed to be a local from Kenmare. He said the rain was a “Demon mist” which made me laugh. He told me I had about 20 minutes to get back out of the clouds and then the rain will be less. Then I had another 2.5 miles to get to Kenmare. That was music to my ears, but it still seemed to take forever for me to get off the rocky downhill trail to the paved roads that would take me to town. A pretty young woman and old man passed me from behind; they were not the other hikers, and the woman was jogging while the old man walked very briskly. I let them go – it was downhill and I didn’t want to overdo that on the first day. It was raining harder as I got to Kenmare. It was hard to tell where I was on the maps I had, so I stopped in an supermarket entrance and got everything settled in the dry there before walking the rest of the way through town.

Every B&B I stayed in (except in Waterville) was far on the other side of the town as I arrived, usually requiring ½ to ¾ of a mile additional walking. I got to the B&B just after 3pm, making great time considering how much I’d been off the paths lost and having the extra distance to the B&B. It was at least 15.5 miles, and it could have been much more, but I am not sure how long it took me while I was lost. I was pretty wet, and the owner suggested I take my wet stuff to his boiler room to dry it out, but once I got to my room, I just wanted to relax and rest my feet. I thought the merino wool would dry out fine (it did not).

My routine post-hike was established that day: get out of the wet stuff, shower, stretch/lie down for a bit (no nap), and then get do my instagram posts and check emails and the news on the wifi. I usually went to dinner around 6pm, and this evening I walked back to town and looked for a place called The Mews, which was highly rated. I couldn’t find it (it was in an alley), but ate instead at the Coachmens.

MEAL: delicious seafood chowder (recommended by my server), then goat cheese and fig tarts, and finished with an old New Zealand favorite, Banoffi Pie (it wasn’t as good as I remembered). A man came in and sang songs, pretty terrible ones, and I noticed almost every restaurant or pub advertised live music daily. Kenmare must be a good place to be a musician. It rained again on the way back, but I felt good and ready for the next day.

Monday, September 9, 2019: Kenmare to Sneem, 13 miles

This B&B was nice enough, the Kenmare House, but something was off there. I did sleep ok. 

RUN: I was up early again and ran out the road from town to a left turn that looped back to town and was nice. From town I went across the river bridge and went out a few of the roads before coming back. I got it up to 5 miles, finishing up where the Kerry Way exited the town, right by my B&B. This was the second worst run.

Breakfast was ok. They offered a special home made fruit and nut bread, but something from it made me nauseated. I did not eat as much as I usually would. I got my stuff together quickly. It would have been a perfect day for the light merino jacket, but that was too wet still. I wore a running vest with pockets and a long sleeved merino t shirt.

HIKE:

Because the first part was on the boring side, on back roads, they had me ride with the taxi taking my bag to Sneem for a little way. There was another couple riding with me to do a different hike, and we chatted a bunch about where we’d been before. We made each other jealous.

The female driver dropped me at a church parking lot, and I had about a quarter of a mile of dicey walking on the main road to the place where the trail crossed it. It was an old stagecoach road and very nice to hike on for a few miles, but then transitioned to a single track that went along the coast of the river/bay to the south of Kenmare. It was pretty, but then it started to rain off and on, and I stopped to put on and take off my raincoat a few times on the way.

There were few hills and the farm tracks were muddy. On a poorly marked stretch I came to a gate with 7 cows on my side. I had to shoo them away – two were quite reluctant – and then climb a stile. The hike dragged through a lot of uninteresting terrain, though it was much nicer out.

Again, it seemed to take much longer than I thought to get to town, and once I did, I arrived in an area with lots of tour buses and people. I meandered through them and the small business district of Sneem and got on the main road out of town. The B&B (Coomassig View) was on a side road along the main road and I walked on the much less traveled side road to come to the back entrance. There was a nice but wet dog there and I was petting him when Maureen, the very nice host, welcomed me inside. She gave me newspaper for my boots to help me dry them out, and my room was right off the main foyer. I followed my routine, except I was really hungry (on the trail each day I ate a Clif bar, a Larabar, and another granola bar), so I ate some trail mix in the lounge since I was not allowed to eat in the room. I then showered and cleaned up after doing some push ups and stretching.

It was about a half mile back to town for dinner. Since I felt like I’d not had as much energy as I wanted during this hike, and it took me longer than I thought it should, I wanted to eat a lot. MEAL: 3 pieces of whole grain bread, a big bowl of vegetable soup (good), and a huge plate of spinach tortellini and a side of sweet potato fries. Dessert was a big piece of sticky toffee pudding, another old favorite. I was over full and needed that walk back to let things settle. I was again able to go to bed early.

Tuesday, September 10, 2019: Sneem to Caherdaniel, about 15 miles with side trip.

RUN: I’d looked at the maps the night before and plotted a course, but the internet was down when I got up. Still, I found where I wanted to go: a nice road along the waterways south of town. It was marshy to the left as I headed down it, with nice views of the surrounding mountains farther on and to the west. On the way back I went on the town’s nature trail (I passed a house cat out for a jog coming the other way) and then through a few neighborhoods before heading back and taking the side road past the B&B far enough to hit 5 miles.

Maureen made a great and filling breakfast, with good muesli, fresh yogurt and freshly cut fruit, with some bread. It was supposed to be good weather initially and then cloudy, but then I got a call from the tour group telling me it would be cloudy and not as nice right before I left. The Kerry Way was right out the back door so I got to leave when I wanted to.

It was initially just a narrow back road, then a grassy trail, then very muddy farmland as I climbed into the mountains. I reached a very scenic high point and then went down, then climbed another, and it was enjoyable other than the mud.

I reached a paved road and took it north to the Staighe Fort, which is probably just a secure house they estimate predates the arrival of Christianity in Ireland. It was an impressive structure, but a 4km walk out of the way up and down a valley that had a few cars on it and also some menacing dogs. I did climb up on the walls and walk around a bit, but that took less than 5 minutes. On the way back a guy in a delivery truck stopped to chat and told me the walk in my direction was much prettier and I had about 3.5 miles left.

After a bunch of trails through farms and homesteads, I thought I was near the end, but then it went up and up into the clouds, up three very steep and long hills, and it started to rain heavily with a lot of wind, too. I could see another hiker ahead of me in a bright yellow jacket, but I didn’t catch her until the end. It was probably the nicest trail on the hike: grassy, wide, less mud, and very pleasing to the eye how it curved around on the mountains. But by the time I started down to the town, it was really unpleasant to the soul. It was also very slippery, so slow going. After an interminable slog, I was suddenly through a gate and into what amounts to the town of Caherdaniel. My map was wet (after all the missteps the first day, I had taken to carrying it in my hand in its protective jacket), but as best I could tell, I had to walk from that point at least a half mile in the harsh rain and wind to the B&B along the busy main road. I was not happy – I thought I was staying right in the town – and then was even less pleased to find the sidewalk ended after only about 100m. I was crossing back and forth from the shoulders to try to avoid cars and hoping the B&B would be around the next corner. It was really about ¾ miles and by the time I was there I was drenched. It was the Old Forge B&B.

The place was very nice, though, and an elderly lady was super helpful getting me sorted. She gave me a basket for my wet clothes and hung them in a drying room and gave me newspaper for my shoes. There were more people at this place all getting settled after getting soaked. They were all upset about the walk along the main road. After I went through the usual routine, I went down to talk to her about getting to town, and she volunteered to drop me off there. It was such a huge favor. The Blind Piper is a well-known area restaurant, so I went there. MEAL: I walked in and there were a bunch of crusty old men in the bar and it was quite noisy. I asked where I should sit and the bartender said I could sit anywhere in there or go into the restaurant, which was otherwise not obvious. I passed through its narrow entrance into peace and quiet: only two people were in there eating. I ordered a Caprese salad to start and it was delicious, but as I was eating more people came in and sat at a table behind me. They were soon talking very loudly and one of them was laughing over and over so loud a comedian would have told them to keep it down while he was doing stand up. I think I otherwise had a pan-seared salmon with some vegetables and a pear and celery mousse that was delicious. Dessert was a trio of sweets with a scoop of vanilla ice cream: brownie, cheese cake, and cream puff. I was really getting tired of the noise, and it took a long time to get the check. They quieted down once they got their food, but I was glad to get out of there. Of course it was drizzling when I went outside, but I was determined to walk back on the road without getting a ride. It was still light, but it started to rain hard again as soon as I got to the main road, but I made it back and it wasn’t so bad. The old lady gave me my stuff already dry, which was huge, and I went up to my room and to be early.

Wednesday, September 11, 2019: Caherdaniel to Waterville: 9 miles hiking

RUN: I thought it would be a noisy night, but it was not. It was still rainy and windy for the run, but not too bad with either. I looked carefully at the map and there was no good place to run, but the best place to try was a road to the beach just a short way down the main road. I ran back and forth on that several times with different variations, one time running on the small but pleasant beach, and kept telling myself “keep going” and eventually my GPS watch clicked over 5 miles and I was very pleased with myself.

HIKE: It was still gloomy as I set out on the main road back to town. There wasn’t much traffic, and I followed the trail down to the beach, which was nice. I decided to stay up on the dunes to walk, and was able to use the public restrooms there as well.

After passing a few quays, I got on a “Mass Trail,” which would have been the way people snuck around to go to Mass back when Catholicism was outlawed in Ireland. It was pretty, and at one point I got to a cove where the trail was not marked. I eventually discovered some steps carved into a cliffside and climbed that to find the trail. The day was now beautiful, with a light breeze. From there I ascended about 800 vertical feet in a short distance to the pass over the mountains to Waterville.

I again had to get by cows by a gate, but this time was easier. It was very pretty seaside scenery and one of the best spots on the Ring of Kerry. I could see the road and all the tour buses and cars on it.

I eventually got on a road that passed by the new golf course there and negotiated a stretch of the main road without sidewalks to the town of Waterville. I mentioned before this was the only place I stayed at a convenient place, and the walk was very short, so I was up for more. My luggage had not made it yet (the driver claimed he got a puncture), but the lodging, Mick O’Dwyer’s Pub, with the B&B called La Villa, got me to my room. From there I went for a stroll out to the Waterville golf links, the clubhouse of which is about 1.25 miles from town along a nice road. I went through the whole pro shop several times before choosing a dark brown golf shirt and a black hat, and walked back. It remained sunny and warm. When I got back, there was still no luggage, but someone brought it up shortly after and I was able to take a shower and change. It was a small, quirky room, dedicated to the sport of Gaelic Football and various area championship teams. It did not have good internet, but it did have dedicated USB ports in the wall to charge things.

MEAL: the restaurant was just up the street and called “5 Spice.” It was Asian food, and it was really good. I was also the only person there, though some people came for take out. I got some vegan things. Then I walked a short distance to a grocery store and bought a Magnum ice cream for old times sake. When I got back the internet was useless so I went to bed early after reading some.

Thursday, September 12, 2019: Waterville to Cahirsiveen, probably around 14 miles

Run: I’d been to Waterville four times prior, but each time I’d always driven down from Killarney on the Ring of Kerry and still had a day of sight seeing on the road to get in before getting back to Killarney, so I’d never spent much time there. Still, I had a thing for it; the area is stunning, it seemed like a nice town, and at one point I was even trying to get an Irish medical registration to work in Waterville. So, I was excited to try a run around there if only to see what it had to offer should I come to stay for a longer time, say, my retirement. It wasn’t nice anymore, and a high wind was blowing off the ocean carrying some misty rain. I set out on a road heading north in the general direction of my hike with plans to make a loop if possible, but the road was pretty and not well traveled, so I went out and turned around and came back into the wind for 5 miles. I felt good and was moving well by the end.

HIKE: This was potentially the longest and hardest hike, but the plan from the touring company had the driver dropping me about 6 miles into it, saving me that much walking along the various back roads and farms on the way. The weather looked like it might get terrible, too. I was ready to go early, but the B&B did not serve breakfast early, and they did not even unlock the door until 9am. I went up and down the stairs several times trying to see if there was another way in – nope. Finally, after all that waiting and pacing, I got the opportunity to eat the worst breakfast of the trip. They only had two cereal options, and they were two of the worst three (according to me): Corn flakes and Weetabix (the worst cereal, for cereal purposes, is Rice Krispies). I will never understand why these cereals are nearly universally available. They totally suck and also have almost no nutritional value. There was no yogurt or fruit, either. I took some Weetabix and added milk, sugar and jam and was able to choke it down. I ate a few slices of whole grain bread with jam and then dashed back to be ready for my pick up at 9:30. The driver was sitting at the bar when I got down the stairs and we were off.

It was rainy steadily but not super hard at that point, and the driver, who was nice enough, offered to take me all the way to the next town, or even to another part of the route that would skip the worst and hardest parts, but I had nothing else to do and had all my waterproof gear on, so I had him drop me off at the usual point. We seemed to be driving forever; I thought it was only a few miles to the drop off point. I asked him, “Is it this far to the church?” He replied, with a chuckle, “I guess it is since I haven’t dropped you off yet.” The first section was on narrow roads, but then I turned off into a farm and started to climb. The farther up I went the harder the wind and rain blew, and the muddier the terrain. It was slow going; I could not walk fast enough, even on the steeper grades, to make me breathe hard. Visibility got worse, and I could only see about 70m in each direction. The route was one hill after another; I could only see the top of the next rise and was always disappointed when yet another big hill was revealed as I got near the top of the current rise. This went on for an hour. It was not that high a peak (362 m, about 1170 feet), and I could not understand how it kept going up that long, but finally I reached the very top, and that coincided with a slight break in the rain.

I pulled my hood back and started to pick my way down the other side, which turned out to be very similar: almost nothing but mud to walk on, a tortuous path through it, and relatively steep pitches to snake down. I had made it down three of these pitches when I spotted two people coming up the other direction not far off, maybe 60 feet away. Almost immediately my right foot went out from under me on a very slippery spot and I went crashing backwards on my right side and back in deep mud. I made enough noise doing it to get their attention, and they called out to see if I was all right. I took inventory and was just fine. I got up laughing and told them I did it only for their entertainment. They were very nice Americans, and they were happy to know they were near the top and didn’t have far to go back down. They were the only two hikers I saw all day.

Not long after they moved on, the rain and wind got to be the worst they had been. It was hard to tell where to go, and I just kept picking my way down. I noticed there weren’t many tracks in the mud at one point and some steps had clearly been moved, leaving huge holes in the ground. I took a good look around to try to figure where I was supposed to go and was surprised to see one of the trail marking posts on the other side of a nearby barbed wire fence. At some point the trail had crossed the fence and I had not noticed! I definitely did not want to head back up the mud to try to find where that had occurred, so I sized up the situation, and it turned out my inseam was long enough I could just climb over the fence without damaging my pants and their contents. That side was not as muddy, but still really muddy, and I kept going along. It crossed back over eventually and then there were a few really steep pitches I was very cautious on.

At the bottom of one I noticed the wind had dropped, and there was no longer the noise of rain hitting me. I pulled back my hood again and walked a bit farther before turning to my left and noting something I’d almost forgot existed: sunshine! The valley to my left had a big patch of sunlight falling on it! It had all happened so fast. I took a bunch of photos there. I had again been walking in the clouds, and now I was below them. I was also at the next phase of the hike.

I did not have far to walk to a stile that was next to a road. That road offered a short cut to Cahirsiveen and would only be a bit over two miles of walking, all on pavement. Or I could climb three consecutive mountains going straight and then walk to town after that. I chose the second option; I didn’t go to Ireland to take short cuts on roads.

I had been so focused on getting up and down the mountains in the terrible weather I had hardly had anything to drink and nothing to eat. As I climbed the stile on the other side of the road to start my ascent, I grabbed a Clif bar from my coat and, while distracted, immediately stepped in a giant pile of cow dung, half a basketball deep and even wider. The rest of that trail was so wet and muddy I am sure not even a molecule of that cow dung made it to Cahirsiveen.

The hills were not that steep and offered nice views, but what I didn’t know is they also added a lot of distance to the walk, as I was now moving away from Cahirsiveen. As I got to the bottom of the last one, I got on paved narrow roads again. I thought I was nearly done, but even with walking briskly, it took me over 2 hours to get to Cahirsiveen, and I was very tired of hiking by then. The trails and roads had not been scenic at all.

Cahirsiveen (sometimes called Cahirciveen) was a pleasant little town on an inland waterway with some old stone churches and a castle across the waterway. It looked very nice, but my stroll all the way across and through town to my hotel revealed most of the storefronts were vacant. I was very happy to finally see the hotel and dreaded the walk back into town for food, but one thing at a time.

I was filthy when I walked in, but they said nothing. I got my bag and had the room farthest from check in on the second floor, up a twisting set of stairs. When I took off my boots mud fell all over the carpet. Fortunately they had a great drying rack in the bathroom so I hung things up after washing them off. It was a pretty afternoon at that point and I would have loved to have a nice stroll around except I didn’t feel like walking at all.

MEAL: There was nothing close, so I had to walk a half mile to get to an Indian restaurant. The host and server was Polish and slow moving, but the food was really good. I got all vegetarian things again and my carbs for this meal were a huge Naan. They had some ice cream for dessert (I ordered 2 scoops of chocolate and one of strawberry, which were the only flavors. She checked again in a few minutes about the number of scoops, and I repeated it. I got one scoop of chocolate and 2 scoops of strawberry when she brought it out) so I got that instead of going to another convenience store on the way back.

Friday, September 13th, 2019: Cahirsiveen to Glenbeigh: about 12 miles.

RUN: I had to unlock the front door of the hotel to get out at 7am. Crossed the one lane bridge to the other side of the waterway and ran down a narrow road almost to the castle. It was really nice and relaxing. 5 miles.

HIKE: After breakfast, I went to get my stuff and mud again fell off my boots on the carpet, and then my back up water bottle (I hike with a 100+ ounce Camelbak back pack) opened and spilled on the floor. I finally left just as the phone rang. I kept going and by the time I got to the lobby I got another phone call from the tour group checking in. The cabbie was there and I made a mess in the foyer putting on my boots.

I was dropped at another rural church and again was on back roads until moving off into farmland. It was beautiful out, perfect weather for hiking. After about an hour, people started coming the other way. All of them were friendly and some chatted with me. The path was muddy at times down low but then got more solid as the elevation increased. I passed some old ruins called “The Kells” and had another set of cows to traverse, including a huge one right by the stile that didn’t want to move while she was scratching her neck and head on the tree branches and barbed wire there. Finally I was in the hills on a trail that stayed on the waterside of the hills with nice views, and at one point a class of maybe 50-70 teens came by the other way. I had a hard time believing they’d hike all the way through.

On the way down the views were even better as Rossbeigh, a beach/strand came into view and the marshlands near it. The trail at one point, for about .25 miles, was right on the edge of a steep drop off and the guide had said stay to the right if you were afraid of heights. I did stay to the right.

After getting through some farms, I then was on a road along the coast that was a long down hill, and from there did a steep climb up behind a housing project, and then finally came out on a portion of trail with small houses and doll houses on it called the Fairy Forest (or something like that), and then I was by a stream and done with the trail!

I walked a brief stretch of narrow road to another one lane bridge and then was in Glenbeigh. The hotel was another ¾ miles up a slight hill and on narrow parts of the main road. It was a cute little town with a very small business district. I kept slogging on and finally got to the hotel, the Old Glenbeigh Hotel. It had a nice pub/restaurant and was family run, so one of the servers checked me in and, surprise! I didn’t have to carry my bag up as they had.

It was an old fashioned hotel with creaky floors and old furniture but I like it the best. I cleaned up as much as I could and then put it to dry all over. The internet was better for a bit so I was able to catch up, and then I did push-ups and used a resistance band for a quick workout before showering. I’d asked about the local restaurants checking in and they said the restaurant there was the best. I went down and had a delicious meal of vegetable soup, then huge plate of smoked salmon and pasta with a creamy sauce, and finished with a nasty rhubarb and raspberry crumble (no more rhubarb!!!). It was nice to not have to get ready to hike the next day, but I still had to get ready to leave town.

Saturday, September 14, 2019: travel day to Killarney from Glenbeigh

RUN: I had a good sleep without melatonin and got up before the sun. I was ready for anything, and thought I might do a longer run and explore a bit. I started out on the main road and then turned toward the marshy lands and beaches north of town. There was a road that looked like it looped around. I took my camera and snapped some shots en route. The beach there had a trail that connected to the other road and I followed than to the main road, then turned right and went all the way to Rossbeigh Strand, then crossed the road to the other side of the one lane bridge and found another nice trail. I would have gone on that longer but there were men with dogs unleashed ahead and I didn’t want to pass them twice. It was just over 7 miles.

Once I got to Killarney and saw how beautiful the weather was there I wanted to go out for a walk/run to get over 40 miles for the 7 days of running. Even though my stomach was still full from a big lunch, I started out walking until I got to some trails, then managed to slog around for a bit over 3 miles, stopping just short of the Ross castle, taking some photos of that. Then I walked back. It was probably more than 5 miles overall. On the way back I was desperate to find a place to do pull ups. I saw there was supposed to be a playground on the grounds of the gardens where the trails were, but I couldn’t find it. I had given up when I noticed the sign for the bike shop near the B&B had a triangle shape. I did 5 quick pull ups, right along the main road, on the bar of the sign that was only about 4 mm across and very hard on my hands. That got me all excited.

Transit: I had to check out of the hotel at 11 am, and did so, but the bus to Killarney didn’t leave until 12:15. I walked down there anyway and read on a series of benches in the shade or sun depending on how warm it was. It was a cloudless, sunny day, glorious. Two older ladies came and stood nearby, and I asked them if they were going to Killarney. They said they were going to Killorglin on the way there by the same bus. They had eaten at the Tower Hotel the night before and said it was packed with great music. So, I missed that. The bus was only 12 euros and arrived on time about a 10 minute walk from the B&B.

I left the luggage in my room and went out for lunch, eating outside at the Parc Café and getting a big bowl of soup and then vegan avocado toast. I then went souvenir shopping and found something everyone liked.

There was the national final of gaelic football that evening and County Kerry’s team was in it, so the city was basically shut down except for the pubs. I went to another Asian restaurant and had a delicious green curry and spicy potatoes. They had an Elderflower soda that was the nectar of the Gods. I stopped for ice cream on the way back – it seemed like Kerry had lost by then – and thought the honey comb caramel was wonderful. Set up a taxi pick up for 7:30 the next morning and would not have time to run or eat breakfast at the B&B.

Sunday, September 15, 2019: Flying back to the USA

I was worried about the taxi coming, but they were right on time and we had a great chat. The airport doesn’t even open up for check in until 45 minutes before boarding. I got checked in, then through security and only a brief wait to get on the plane. My bag was checked through (no fees!!) and I had only to find the US processing site in Dublin, got through passport control and customs (took an hour!), and then wait briefly at the gate. I ate a few more bars, and they had a meal and a snack on the flight (I was able to get the vegetarian meal this time). I dozed a bit, but finished a book. I had no problem getting the bus to the Metro and back, but was pretty beat by then and didn’t manage to do anything other than load my photos on my laptop and eat before heading to bed (I got up at 3:15 the next morning and ended up going for a run and getting groceries before going to work).

Reflections on the trip:

I ran 40.3 miles in the 7 days I was there.

The hike was about  80 miles if you include my walk to the golf course in Waterville. That includes the extra distance to the lodging once I got to town. So, about 13 miles a day.

OBSERVATIONS: Overall it was a fantastic trip. Once I was in the rhythm, I could have done this for weeks, assuming I could do some laundry. There were 3/6 days where the weather was rough for extended periods, but my attitude was always good, and my internal reverie was either entertaining or shut down. I did have lots of weird songs (for me) popping into my head that would play in loops and be hard to stop. I did not lose any weight, but I do feel tougher and fitter than when I left. I would like to upgrade my walking pants to something more water resistant, but currently not much is available. I did just buy a lighter weight goretex jacket on sale from REI. This was meant to be an entertaining challenge, and it was that, but I made it seem pretty easy, which is always my goal and the reason I tend to over prepare.

 Things the Irish are good at:

1.    Stacking rocks – all those walls and old houses!

2.    Music

3.    Driving on narrow roads

4.    Saying amusing things

I was disappointed to see so many smoking, and while this can be said about all humans, the Irish tend especially to make bad choices based on short term comfort that cause lots of problems over the long term, maybe even evil problems. That would include SMOKING, DRINKING (both beer and whiskey), and CATHOLICISM.

Important links:

my instagram account, that has exclusive photos and comments:

https://www.instagram.com/drterryo64/

The youtube video of the trip, with all the photos and videos and a pleasant soundtrack by Andrew O’Rourke":

https://youtu.be/mman9ZYwdN4

Atlantis in the Bahamas

Because this was not a typical Terry O’Rourke trip, I will not do my usual format and instead will try to summarize and group things in an entertaining manner. We got to Atlantis and never left, eating and spending all our time there. Here is the video link from youtube:

https://youtu.be/0so3aTPC-XU

PARTICIPANTS:

Madelaine Mills, my niece and travel companion to Spain in 2018 and Paris/Amsterdam in 2016. Madelaine is not a complainer and is pretty easy and even-keeled, with little drama. She cares a lot about her appearance and her tan. It was clear early on that beach resorts are Madelaine’s niches.

Julie Brossman, Madelaine’s friend from college who lives in Manhattan. She was quiet and fun, a good sleeper and liked to do whatever Madelaine wanted. They were a good team and we got along great despite sharing a room that was much smaller than I thought it would be.

TRAVEL:

My flights were fine. I took my first Lyft on my own (it was a taxi driver, anyway) because the Metro did not open in time, and I came back via the Metro. Madelaine and Julie were late to the Bahamas and I was early, so I had to stand around for over an hour waiting for them. They had no checked bags, so when they came down the stairs, we were ready to go. We took taxis to and from Atlantis, roughly $50 with tips. Getting them there was the most stressful part of the arrangement, and it worked out fine despite the partial government shutdown.

ATLANTIS:

This is an iconic resort, one that advertises heavily, and it appealed to me primarily because it was warm and it had water slides and things to do during the day. My concerns were that they would hook me in and then add lots of charges, and that it would be super crowded and touristy. My money concern was partly realized, as the initial room fees were not bad, but then I had to pay extra to have a 3rd occupant in the room, and the food plans were super expensive, with mandatory 15% tips and 12% VAT in addition. It all worked out but it cost a lot of money. We would have been better off without a meal plan, but the food was good wherever we went. One bonus I did not anticipate was the fantastic aquarium that winds its way around the resort, and the little village on the marina was really nice, too.

The Room: two queens and a very small terrace. The beds were very comfortable, and it was quiet at night. We hardly ever watched TV and really were only in the room to change and sleep. The Beach Tower was not convenient to anything other than the Beach beach and pool, which were really nice. The wifi was excellent.

The Beach: there was plenty of room to sit, and free, abundant chairs (there were some with shades attached, great for me) and towels made it easy. There were bars, restaurants and toilets close by every spot. The beach was steep, so the waves broke fast and hard. I was racked body surfing, doing a flip and scraping my bald head on the sand. The water was cool but not cold, and I didn’t mind being in it for a while. It was not too rough to swim and snorkel near the shore, either.

The Pools: There were many beautiful pools with lots of chairs and some umbrellas. These were more crowded than the beach and usually had music, which could be annoying at times. The water was also cool, but it was really clear and each pool had a nice touch, like monuments or waterfalls, I enjoyed. They had a separate lap pool I did not use. I’d planned to do a lot of swimming and running in the pools, but I did not do that much - it just wasn’t the best set up for that. If I did swim, it was at the end of the afternoon.

Exercise: I walked every morning. The paths of the resort were nice, but not long enough, so I went in the neighborhoods and over the bridge to Nassau twice. I went to the gym three times, twice to do my knee rehab and once to do an upper body workout, but the latter didn’t go well as I hurt my elbow at some point on Monday. We did lots of walking otherwise and I tried to do some swimming as well.

Activities

Waterslides: These are the reason to go to Atlantis. There are two complexes with slides, and the Mayan Temple is the most famous, with its Leap of Faith slide coming right down the front, super steep and fast, finishing in a tube through a tank with many good sized sharks swimming in it. Throughout the day you can hear the screams of the sliders as they hit the steep part. There are three other slides in that building, one an inner tube ride that also takes you through the shark tank, but at a much slower pace. There is a slide called the jungle that does a lot of turns, and a really fun pair of slides called the Challenger, where you can race someone down.

The other slide area is an interesting looking building that has a slide called the Abyss on the roof - it is also very steep, mostly in the dark, and ends in a cave like pool. It was fantastic - the slide I did the most, as the line was short and it was a lot of fun (I would keep my eyes closed - it felt almost like I was being sucked down it as well as pulled by gravity). There were several other tube slides there that ended in the rapid river pool, so they all took a long time. The rapid river was fun but tried my patience with its slow drifting at times. Madelaine and Julie were good sports and liked to do the slides as a break from tanning.

Dolphin Cay:

Atlantis has a large dolphin habitat where 42 dolphins live. They claim they have been rescued. I did some dolphin activities in Cancun, and afterwards found out about the horrors inflicted on dolphins (see “The Cove”), but this seemed like a different set up. I signed us up for paddleboarding with the dolphins and snorkeling with them. Neither went the way I thought they would, but each was fun and the dolphins were fantastic.

Paddleboarding: This was far cheaper than the other items. The boards are inflatable, and I found them tremendously unsteady compared to the other paddleboard I’d been on in Bermuda I was able to take out to sea and cover tremendous distances in a few hours. I fell off this one twice and gave up on standing, which took some of the fun out of it (with my recent knee surgery, I could not kneel). It was really fun having the dolphins swimming all around us, but they were mostly coming to get treats. It didn’t last long, which was ok in the end, and they had good drinking water there. This we did on Monday.

Swim in Wonder: This looked to involve us snorkeling in the habitat and interacting with the dolphins that way, but it turned out to be a typical dolphin interaction like we had in Cancun: getting pushed while on a kick board, petting and holding the dolphin and getting kisses. He seemed to like to kiss me (they called him “Julian”), and it was fun doing things with him, but we did it with a big family, which diluted it a lot. In the end, we really didn’t even need the snorkels, but we got to keep them (I came home with three masks and 5 snorkels). This was on Tuesday.

Snorkeling the Ruins: again, I was thinking we did something else, like getting on a boat and going to a site with ruins, but the ruins are right in the huge aquarium around the hotel. An aquarist took us out and we stayed on the water surface, but this was really worth it. They have a big manta ray they call Coco and she was swimming around us much of the time, as were some sharks. The tanks are full of fish and old objects and stone structures. I would not miss out on this if you go. We did this on Thursday, which was the nicest day.

FUN:

I like to think I make things fun, and Madelaine is good at having fun as well. We noticed lots of signs around for “Private Events.” The resort hosted some conferences and they were always having parties the other occupants couldn’t attend, so it was a running joke with us. At the Marina, we saw a rapper Madelaine knew who goes by the name Waka Flocka, while we were waiting for our food at a restaurant we liked called “Frankie Goes Bananas.” Madelaine finally went and got a photo with him, and then she felt guilty about bothering him, made even worse by them finding out he had just renewed his marriage vows with his wife and they may have been on a second honeymoon. There were enormous yachts there, one worth $75 million, and on the second to last day, our waitress for breakfast, Juliette, told us they get a briefing on all the celebrities there on any given day, and that a lot of athletes come there to gamble and hang out, staying on yachts in the marina. She was a riot, a bit much for me, but she gave the girls big hugs and called me “dad.” We got a secret kick out of that, and it wasn’t the only place it occurred. I imagined everyone thinking I was their father, maybe divorced and taking them out to spoil them with my limited access, or that maybe I was a widower trying to boost their spirits and honoring their mother with a trip to Atlantis.

Hiking in Lovely Wales

2nd day of hiking, at Dinas Head.

            I have hiked and run (and played golf) a lot on the beautiful coasts of the USA, New Zealand, Ireland, the Caribbean, and Australia, so when I saw a notice of how pretty the coast of Wales was, I thought, yeah, right, but the fact they had a trail that followed the coast for over 100 miles intrigued me. I proposed a trip there to my doctor and occasional running buddy, Ray Douglas, around a year ago, and he tentatively agreed. We solidified plans in the early spring of 2018, and though my timetable changed off and on as my job prospects varied, we went over in July of 2018. I had just done a similar trip in the interior of Iceland, with day hikes along an established trail aided by transport of my luggage to the next night’s lodgings, though that trip was with a large guided group and we stayed in huts sleeping as a group with bathrooms outside. This time it would be relatively luxurious, staying in B&Bs with our own bathroom inside. The walks, however, would be much longer and with more ups and downs. 

            I like to avoid drama, but injuries often factor into the planning of adventures like these, and I’d decided to cut back on my running in April after having pain in my right foot that would not go away, and then my Achilles tendon in my left foot started bothering me in May. I was still able to run, but I could not run fast or hard, and in Iceland it kept me from running at all while we were out on the trail, which was a disappointment, especially once we got below the level of snow cover. As the trip to Wales approached, I knew I needed to be fitter to walk essentially twice as far and I wanted to be able to run in the little towns we would visit as well as maybe on the trail itself. My Achilles did get better in the few days before we left, but about a week before, while I was in my new apartment in Washington, DC, I’d somehow hurt my right knee. It wasn’t bad, but simply stiff and sore if I bent it too much. The Tuesday of our departure, though, it was much worse on my morning run. To that point, it had not hurt at all on my runs but was only apparent during my stretching and weightlifting. The soreness only got worse as the day progressed, and then I knew I was in trouble. I still took all my running gear along, but it felt like I had torn the cartilage in it, much like I had in my L knee in 2011. 

Ray Douglas, MD, my family doctor, friend and occasional running partner.

            It was Ray Douglas’ first trip to Europe, and he was very excited. He is really into gear and had a new GPS tracking device into which he had input the routes of the hikes and certain points of interest already. He picked me up at my parents’ and we set off for the Newark airport. Showers and thunderstorms were in the forecast, but I discounted their chances of affecting our trip. There was quite a bit of rain in the first hour or so of our trip, but we got to Newark and parked without problem and made it to the airport dry. Check in and security were fine except for Ray forgetting to take an iPad out of his carry on, but he was not arrested or even given much of a hard time.

            As we got to our gate, they announced that due to severe thunderstorms in the area, the entire airport was shutting down. Not good. It opened again in 90 minutes or so, and as best we could tell, our flight was not affected…until it was. The delays occurred steadily, 30 minutes, then another 20, then another 30, and then they needed to get another crew, and that crew was at one of the local hotels and couldn’t get to the airport, on and on. We ended up taking off over 2.5 hours late. We had a nearly 4 hour layover in Dublin, so what had looked like an ideal and relaxing trip was now getting a bit stressful.

            The flight itself was blessedly unfull, so I got an entire row to myself in the back and could lie down. That was the only good part of our journey. When we arrived, we were told our connecting flight to Wales, for which Aer Lingus was not able to get us a boarding pass in Newark, left from another terminal in Dublin, so we had to process through customs and passport control and go to that terminal. The passport guy for Ray hassled him about his itinerary, taking precious minutes, and we rushed over then to the terminal after my passport woman told me we should run.

            WARNING! TRAVEL PROBLEMS DESCRIBED IN DETAIL (look for next bold lines to avoid this section if you want to read the rest): We got to the line for check-in for Flybe (I think the proper pronunciation is supposed to be fly-b-e, but mine will evermore in my brain be bleeping Flybe), and after waiting, knowing our time was running out (the flight was to leave around 8:35am, and it was 7:25am), the woman checking us in detected some problem and had to go somewhere else to sort it. It took a long time, but she returned to tell us our tickets for the bleeping Flybe flight were voided in the system and we would need to go to see Aer Lingus back in the other terminal to sort it out. The bleeping Flybe clerk told us there were loads of flights to Cardiff all day so it wouldn’t be a problem to get us there on another flight.

            We rushed to the other terminal and found Aer Lingus’ customer service area, where after a brief wait the clerk told us our tickets were fine in the system and bleeping Flybe was lying to us. She called bleeping Flybe, but they would not sort it, and then they told us we were not going to be able to go to Cardiff on that flight.  There was ONLY ONE OTHER FLIGHT FROM DUBLIN TO CARDIFF THAT DAY, AND IT WAS AT 9:45 PM!!!! Des, our point man from Aer Lingus now, told us to go back and see if bleeping Flybe was going to get us to Cardiff another way or if they were going to just get us our bags and send us back to Aer Lingus to sort it out for us.

            The bleeping Flybe desk area was now unoccupied, but we were told to go to another customer service desk where they got us our bags and explained their system had our tickets as voided (no explanation as to why they couldn’t just override that mistake…). Our bags finally arrived, so we had to go back over to the other terminal to the Aer Lingus counter and Des went through our options. I had enough wifi power there to find that there were trains we could take from Birmingham, England, to Cardiff, so we opted for an upcoming flight there. Fortunately they made check in easy for us, so we only had to drop off our bags at a service counter and not get in the long line. It was all far more annoying and frustrating than I am conveying to you, especially since my decisions were also affecting Ray, someone who had not traveled as much as I had. To his credit, he at least let me handle most of it.

            Now just back to regular traveling: The trip to Birmingham went off well and when we got there, we had to deal with the second worry of the trip (the first was getting to the town of St. Dogmaels for the start of the hike, which we were still working on), getting a SIM card for my phone as we would have to make a number of calls while we were in Wales for taxis and for our lodgings. I finally found one in a store at the Birmingham airport (there were none at the Dublin airport) and sat at a bench to try to change it out. For those of you who have not seen the new micro SIM cards, they are the size of a potato chip crumb and way more slippery. I must have dropped the thing or my SIM card 10 times before I finally got them both where they were supposed to be and the phone was working. These are the types of things that stress me out, but that was over for now.

            At this point, I had two major concerns: getting to St Dogmaels that day and my knee was very painful. We called the B&B and were able to talk to the woman running it about getting there later than expected, and then we went in search of the trains.

            One of the great pleasures of European travel is the train system. Granted, the USA is huge, but if we’d devoted even a small percentage of what we spent on highways and defense to setting up transit like trains to get from one metro area to another, quality of life would be so much better (than relying on buses or cars that sit in traffic and waste energy and produce noxious exhaust AND, for cars, require at least one person to be extremely attentive the entire time). We got some money from an ATM on the way to the train terminal, which was easy to get to. It took us to another station at the airport where we were able to book trips as far to St. Dogmaels as possible, bypassing stopping in Cardiff.

            Once we were on the trains, it was low stress. We’d bought food for the journey at one of the stations and were able to relax (several of the passengers helped us and gave us advice – people are also nice on trains). I think there was a change in a town near Cardiff to the train that would take us to the small town nearest St Dogmaels. From there we could catch a bus or take a taxi. Ray was leaning to taking a taxi, and as we discussed the options, the elderly man sitting across from us in the now nearly empty train car interrupted and asked if we’d said we were heading to St Dogmaels. We told him we were and he VOLUNTEERED TO GIVE US A LIFT THERE!

            We later found out a taxi ride might have cost us 70-100 pounds from that stop, and Doug, our new friend, was a good driver and good company. His tiny car barely fit our bags and us, but at that point I didn’t care about anything other than getting to our B&B. He turned down our offers of money and dropped us right in the car park for the B&B, which was down the typically narrow drives everyone prefers outside the US.

            The owner met us as we walked in and got us upstairs to our room, which was nice and well lit from the outside, with a view of the playground adjacent (turns out that would have been the best place to do my pull-ups in Wales). It was around 6:30pm, about 2 hours later than we had planned to get there, but still, not bad, mainly assisted by Doug and Des. We ate at the restaurant at the B&B. My meal was great, a mushroom stroganoff with a bowl of butternut squash soup (Ray was not a fan of his meal). After dinner I got ready for the next day and nursed my knee, taking 800mg of Ibuprofen and trying to keep it elevated. It was a little swollen and very stiff. Ray went out for a walk; he had a ritual of eating a bowl of cereal first thing on arising he tried to accomplish every day on the journey, sometimes easier than others, and this night was the hardest – no place to keep the milk, as the owner offered no place in a refrigerator.

Thursday, July 19th, St Dogmaels to Newport:

            I slept really well for me, only up a few times and in bed nearly 10 hours. My eyes were super dry, but my knee didn’t hurt nearly as much. Ray was up much earlier and was eating cereal in the room around 6:30, then out for a walk. It was a cute little town and I wished I was able to go for a run, but I had to save my knee at this point, especially with a 16 mile walk that day yet. I pretty much gave up on running as soon as we got there and didn’t even try the whole time. Our biggest laugh was when we realized, before we saw anyone else, that we were wearing the exact same smart wool shirt! I took 800mg of ibuprofen in hopes it would keep my knee in control throughout the day.

            We ate breakfast, with Ray trying a traditional big English breakfast and me content with some muesli. We walked the tight streets to a small store and got some extra snacks for the hike and soon were off. I was dubious of Ray’s GPS device, which he clipped to his pack like a security guard keeps his walkie-talkie, but it came in handy throughout, as the trail was not well marked at times and our B&Bs not always near the trail. The trail sort of started right next to the B&B, but then wound through some (busy, narrow and fairly scary) roads in the town before actually starting at the seaside in a quiet bay. We posed for photos at the marker and then headed off, still mostly on the roads for a while before finally some decent climbs up what resembled driveways to get to the hills along the shore. By the time we were up high, nearly the highest we would be the whole journey, the day had become fine and the scenery spectacular. The water was a stunning blue, with relatively mild surf, and we were treated to nearly constant cliff side views after the first three miles or so.

            Thus began the pattern of the hiking: up the hills to the cliffs, sometimes right on the edge of them where the footing was very suspect underneath long grass, then back down to a beach by a cove, and then back up and repeat, following the coastline almost always. The foliage consisted this day of mostly ferns, the most ferns I’ve ever seen, all along the slopes, sometimes all around us. The trail was very runnable, with only occasional rocky parts on the ups and downs. My knee was solid, sore in the back part on the uphills and sore on the inside on every step of the downhills, but endurable without much worry.

            The first mild dilemma came when we passed a particularly beautiful little cove that was connected to the sea by an interesting rocky cave. There were some young ladies of obvious pulchritude swimming in bikinis in the interior cove and a few older folks milling around on the seaside. I was prepared to swim every day, but that day I did not have my sandals, and it was a rough 6 foot vertical climb to the first set of rocks. In the end, despite the enormous temptation, I decided not to risk my knee trying to get down or back up, and we walked away.

            We carried on and finished strong in Newport, another pretty little village set along the sea, with our B&B on the side of town closest to the trail as we arrived and only requiring a brief walk on the roads. Ray had tried to book us a table at the nearby restaurant (just a few yards down the street) called the Golden Lion, which was widely regarded as the best place in Newport. He was not aware that he had a reservation, as they never answered his email, but when we had our B&B host, who was a most amiable woman, call there, they put it all together and realized the owner had made a booking at the bar area for us but never let us know! It was a bit of humor and good old English sitcom misunderstanding to liven us up. The food was good, though the table was a bit low. I talked Ray into Duck pancakes, which are not to be missed, and had pork belly and blood pudding that was all excellent, topped off with a lemon tart that was a decent end to the day. Ray had been lusting after specifically brewed beers, cask-aged and somesuch, and was able to have one with his meal.

            When we got back, Ray wanted to explore so I decided to kill some time by looking at the photos I had taken of the scenery, which was simply awesome. To my dismay, I found I had not deleted all the photos and videos I had taken on my family vacation at Keuka Lake. I was pretty sure I had enough memory, but I thought it might be best to delete them. I was very nervous as I started, as my camera always gives you the option to delete everything, which is usually what I do every time I use those settings, but now I wanted to delete only the old things, and I had to do it one at a time, each one taking a precise four clicks and a shift. I kept telling myself to stop, but I couldn’t, and then Ray came back all excited about his walk around and talk with the owner about the next town and where to eat there, asking me all kinds of questions rapid fire, and at some point, instead of stopping what I was doing and giving him my full attention, I paid poor attention to both things I was doing and clicked the “delete all” option and all my photos vanished just like that, with no undo button. I realized it right away and tried feverishly to find a way to reverse it, all while Ray was still right next to me asking questions, and I finally had to admit to him I’d just deleted all my photos from the day and needed to focus. He kindly left me alone, and then returned after a suitable interval to offer to share his shots when we got back (Ray is a pretty serious photographer and has had a few of his photos published on nature calendars). That settled me down some, but despite my outward calm, I was churning inside. I had a terrible night of sleep, haunted by my mistake, which I kept replaying over and over, and when that was quelled, my knee often hurt too much to sleep, and in addition, like the time when I spent an entire day walking along the edge of the Grand Canyon, I had recurrent visions of falling off the cliffs. My heart was pounding hard most of the night and I couldn’t get it to slow even with deep breathing. I did finally get some sleep and was woken at one point when Ray had locked himself out of the room and I had to let him back in.

It is always fun to look at the names of the towns…

 Here is the general elevation chart. This day had the most vertical change.

Friday, July 20th, Newport to Fishguard/Goodwick.

            This place had a great breakfast. It didn’t take us long to get ready and then we were back on the trail as it followed the waterfront. I think it was here we came across an old red phone booth and Ray, who had wished we would see one, got inside for some pictures. I was a little sad to start taking photos again, but after a slow start, it got nicer, both weather and surroundings. The same process of ups and downs, cliffs and beaches, ruled the day.

Early on as we headed up from a small bay with a rocky beach, I stopped to take some photos looking back at it. I was near the edge of the trail in the grass, and must have rocked onto the balls of my feet to get a better look and realized too late there was no ground under the balls of my feet! I went straight down about 4 feet very quickly, slowing my fall with my right arm, which clutched my camera. It happened so quickly, we both sort of shouted. I was embarrassed, but it was also very funny, and it taught us a lesson we would obey the rest of the hike, especially on the high cliffs: stay away from the edges! There were signs frequently on the path with a man falling off a cliff with the words, “Cliffs Kill” on them.

We ate on a nice cliff and went to the bathroom at an inn on the route. Ray may have gotten some ice cream there (and did most of the time when the opportunity presented itself). I didn’t buy any food on the routes – not quite sure why except for stubbornness. As we neared the next towns, it started to sprinkle a bit. I refused to put on a rain jacket and trusted in my merino wool, but Ray was in an out of his jacket the rest of the way. We passed some ruins and then managed our way along a tight, wet path lined with thorny gorse into Fishguard (real name) and past it to Goodwick. I was really looking forward to stopping, and our B&B was the most out of the way it would be, a good walk down a road on the west end of the town. It was a slightly shorter walk with nearly as much vertical change: 14.75 miles, 2700 vertical vs 16.4 and 3100 the day before.

rained for about the last 90 minutes or so.

            This B&B was my favorite inside, with a bigger room, a bigger bed for me, a little balcony with a terrible view of the back yard, and a nice big bathroom. It also had lots of places to dry our stuff. It was the farthest from food and groceries, though. We took a taxi to and from an Indian restaurant. Ray was excited to try it, and I hope I enhanced it with my recommendations, especially of lasse’s to drink. I ate an enormous amount of food and was far too full. But I managed not to delete any photos and was much calmer for bed that night.

Saturday, July 21st, to Woolen Mill and back to Goodwick

            We didn’t have to pack, as there was no lodging near the end of this day’s hike, so we were to call a cab from the woolen mill to bring us back to Goodwick. Our cabbies were the people who’d taken us to the Indian restaurant and back the night before, so we’d worked out the logistics as best we could since there was no cell phone coverage at the woolen mill.

            There was an interesting port in Goodwick and we walked past that before ascending an impressive hill to get to the cliffs on the other side and restarting the cliffs-coves pattern. At one point spotted a brown head bobbing in the surf, and from there we saw a large seal basking on a rock, moving around like it was doing a core workout. It was very entertaining and we kept our eyes out from then on for more.

            Ray had been telling me about a lighthouse we would pass called Strumble Head. He was very excited to walk across the bridge to the little island it was on. It did sound like an appealing diversion on our route. It came into view at about our lunchtime, which was also excellent timing, but, alas, the bridge was closed, and we found out later it was only open for tours on special occasions, more special than the arrival of two American physicians. While Ray explored, I climbed part way up the hill next to the entrance and sat on a dry slab of concrete, later to be joined by an Indian family. Ray climbed over the wall below and sat on a more precarious cliff for his lunch, and we rendezvoused for our departure.

My journal is a bit sketchy about this day, but I afger we got nearly out of sight of the lighthouse, we were walking out a very lovely peninsula and climbing a rocky precipice. When we got to the top, there was a woman of our age sitting there alone. As I came up to her, I said, “You better know the meaning of life, as it took me a long time to get here.” She laughed and told us she’d been married a long time ago in a house we could see from there and was enjoying her time back, especially the great weather.

            This was another beautiful day with stunning scenery, especially the areas inland, with their stone walls, hedgerows, and cottages. Ray was very worried we were running late, but I was confident we would get to the woolen mill about the time we’d arranged. Still, leaving little to chance, I picked up the pace and was able to manage it ok with my knee. Nature has a way of slowing one down, though, and as we headed down one hill to a trail junction, we could see that the trail seemed to head to a gate on an uphill, and behind that were seven or eight cows, jammed in and trying to get through from the other side!

            There was an alternate route that would take us out to a road, and from there we could walk to the woolen mill. As much as that appealed to us, we wanted to stay on the path and see the scenery and keep our trail integrity high. We walked up to the gate to see what the deal was, and the cows were not trapped. We didn’t want them to get out, so just opening the gate didn’t seem like a good option. I started to yell and clap to see what they would do, doing my best old west cowboy voice, and, in a bit of a surprise, they started to head away from the gate and up the hill on the other side. We were encouraged by that development and went through the gate and stayed a safe distance behind while shouting and making noise to keep them going. It took a while, as it was a long hill and the trail narrow, but they eventually moved off to the left and spread out while we passed them without any further concerns. It was all quite amusing, and I was very pleased, but I only took video of this.

            We got to the area where we needed to move away from the shore, down by a beach called Aber bach, and there were pleasant, tree-lined paths the rest of the way to the road, and the mill was not much farther. The taxi was not there, so we went into the store and got them to call for us. I shopped a while and Ray got some ice cream at the little store adjacent. I got a proper scarf to wear in the cold (I am a big fan of buffs), and then had a well-timed, earth shaking bathroom break before we headed back in the taxi.

            This night we walked to a pub that had a good reputation. It had some of the Open Championship on, but there were always people in the seats by the TV. The portions were absurdly huge, much more than you would get in the US. I was too full for dessert, though I still contemplated getting a Magnum ice cream snack on the walk back. We went to bed early after packing up.

Sunday, July 22: Woolen Mill to Abereiddy

            This was another walk to a place there was no lodging, but this time we were to be picked up by a taxi at the parking lot of a beach in Abereiddy. I was supposed to call them and discuss our meeting site, but no one answered the phone, so I left a voicemail about our ETA and where we planned to be. 

            The drop off at the woolen mill went well and we found our way back to the trail, which started out fairly flat along the coast by that beach, with lots of clouds. It soon cleared and the scenery picked up. My camera battery warning light was on, but otherwise it was a lovely, stress-free walk (though I did find the key to our room at the last B&B buried deep in my pocket after about 3 miles of walking, so a little stress) and we came into the area near a town called Trefin. There was an old industrial site there with benches, tables and a small restaurant. This route had many more people than the others, and there was a decent crowd around on such a nice day. We ate lunch there at a picnic table.

            The area had been a quarry and a place to ship coal and gravel to the Americas and Europe. We climbed up the hill next to it on the trail and there were some ruins at the top, but we didn’t dally there. A bit farther on we saw a sign that said there were wild horses in this area and to treat them with caution. Within minutes, there they were.

This was our shortest day of hiking, and I was hoping to get to St Davids early so we could do our sight-seeing there on such a beautiful day. It wasn’t too long, however, until we saw a beautiful beach with a proper stairway down to it and many people around swimming and sunning themselves.

            This was a must. We’d both been prepared, more or less, to swim en route since that first day. We walked down and I looked for a place to change; Ray went in with his shorts on. I gave up and changed in the open with a towel covering me, and then we were swimming! The water was clear and a pleasant temperature, and we had a nice time before getting out and changing back – this time in a more secluded cave like area. We were both excited, Ray probably more than I was, and we had a spring in our steps the rest of the way, which didn’t take long.

Absolutely beautiful out by the end of the day.

            We arrived what amounts to a resort area there, with proper changing rooms and toilets and a few food carts as well as adventure outfits offering kayaking and the ocean version of canyoning (which I would have loved to do – anyone reading this far and interested should definitely plan to do this while in St Davids). One thing it didn’t have, though, was cell phone service. We waited a long time, then finally told the parking lot attendants we’d chatted with a bit that we were going up the hill to get phone service. I could have sworn I saw the cab go by about when we were 50 feet from the first road. I had Ray wait there while I went up to the top of the hill, which was very long and steep. The parking guy told me he’d seen the taxi go by as well. I went to an area of the adjacent campground and was able to get in a call to the cab company and they said they would be there in 15 minutes. I bit my tongue and didn’t complain (much). Then I hung out with the parking attendant there, and he told me of his travels around the world to surf, including to Bali several times. He told me the surfing in Wales was decent when the weather was bad, but this summer had been the best weather in decades, so the surfing had sucked.

            The cab appeared, having picked up Ray and come up the hill for me. The driver was initially gruff but he softened up and shared lots of useful tidbits with us in the ride to St. Davids. St Davids is the smallest city in the British Isles, but I expected more than what we found when we got there. It was the smallest town we spent time in. It was officially called a city only because of its notable cathedral, which dated back to the 12th century. We were dropped on a narrow, one-way street in front of a well-disguised hotel and checked in, having worked out our plans for our pick up the next morning before he left. The hotel clerk promised to get the key back to the other B&B and I called her and apologized (he voice sounded tired and impatient – I think she was on vacation).

            Ray wanted to rest, but I didn’t want to waste the perfect weather. He eventually came around and we left to tour the Cathedral, which I’d heard good things about. It was a disappointment: little art, not that nice, and other than having a choir rehearsing for an evening service, not memorable. I toured the grounds and went into the old bishops’ house ruins, which were ok, and then reunited with Ray and we walked back. I hoped to find a place to watch the Open, but there was nowhere. The best I could do was a ginger beer and wifi at a pub. I gave up, as golf takes too long to keep checking updates, and wandered back, coming across Ray coming the other way to meet me at the restaurant we chose for that night. It was nice, quiet, and with reasonable portions, but pretty pricey.

            We got back to our room and it was pretty warm. There was no AC, so I cracked a window and used a fan inside, but it still stayed toasty. I was in the small bathroom trying to get cleaned up when I hit my big toe on the toilet and it started to bleed. I’d bought new hiking boots for this year’s hiking trips, as in 2017, my (also new) hiking boots had banged up my toes and were a bit too small. I’d gone up a half size, but these were no bigger, and my toes continually banged against the end on the down hills. Now three of them had blood under the nails and felt like they might fall off (they all eventually did in September). They hurt, along with my knee, but not bad enough to affect the big picture. For the first time, Ray was grumbling enough to make me wonder how he would do on our final day the next day, but we both pulled it together. I woke up with a really sore hip and couldn’t get back to sleep until I took some more ibuprofen (I’d stopped it after the first two days, as it didn’t seem to make much difference).

Monday, July 23: Last hike, Abereiddy to St Davids:

             We were ready early for our last day of hiking. It was a little tense, as Ray wasn’t sure how far he wanted to go and was talking a lot about cutting it short. It also wasn’t nice – foggy and drizzling. A different driver picked us up, James Crisp, a most pleasant man who taught guitar and played beautifully (I’ve since watched his video on youtube). Initially things were not great, with drizzle still off and on, but the day overall was not bad. Saw a larger group of seals early on, but scenery tame.

We stopped at a place called White Sands to eat at a picnic table and use their cool restrooms that had a push button handwashing station with everything in the same spot. I again got some ice cream. The weather suddenly got beautiful in the early afternoon but it didn’t last; we were soon back in light rain and clouds the rest of the day. My legs finally felt tired as the afternoon went on. We went off the trail in the cute little area called Porth Clais and walked a regular grass trail back to St Davids for 16.2 miles overall that day.

The last day of hiking was a long one and a mostly cloudy and occasionally rainy one.

            We cleaned up and had time to make the early bird special at another nice restaurant with a prix fixe menu until 6pm. When we got back to the hotel, there was no one at the desk, so we waited and rang the bell for 10 minutes. I finally looked behind the desk and found our room key and we went up. We were eager to leave the tiny room behind. We’d worked out a ride in the taxi with James the next morning to catch the train to Cardiff and had plans of how to get to our hotel at the airport.

Tuesday, July 24: St David to Cardiff (no hike)

            We had to leave early, and the hotel had stuff out for us to eat quickly, which was awesome. James was again great company as we road from St Davids to Haverford West station, which was really just a small stop. We gave him a nice tip and said our good byes. The station did have a ticket agent and he explained a much easier way to get to our hotel by the airport. Our only concern was getting to the hotel from the train station, but as we walked away a conductor shouted to us, then ran up and told us how to catch a bus to the hotel for only one pound each. It worked out fantastic. I highly recommend the Holiday Inn at the airport for your stay in Cardiff if you are flying in and out. There is an express bus downtown that leaves from across the street that is quite cheap, the hotel is nice and quiet, and it has a very early breakfast. The only trouble we had was we thought we’d reserved a spot on the airport shuttle the next morning when we checked in, but apparently, because we had to change rooms before checking in, they didn’t keep that booking, so Ray fortunately trouble-shooted that in the evening and we were fine.

            Once we were checked in, we went right out to the bus stop to take the express downtown. It stops right next to a bunch of restaurants. I LOVED CARDIFF! It is such a cute, pretty city, with water taxis, an old fort, museums, nice walkways, and great food and shopping. I rate it ahead of anything in Ireland and would compare it favorably with Oslo, which is much larger. We did have a perfect day. After our water taxi ride, we walked back to the downtown and it was a bit dodgy, but everyone was nice, out on the street laughing and talking whatever Southwest Asian tongue they were speaking. I finally did some pull ups in a walkway tunnel, and the ledge I gripped was covered with bird feces and dirt. Only did 4 or 5, but they counted! Washing my hands before we ate was a high priority.

            We ate outside in an alleyway. The food was very good (It was Italian). We caught the 7:10 bus back and when he dropped us off there was a furor of honking – I think it was at a better place for us to get off than cars to get around. We had a nice, quiet evening with more reliable internet and cleaning and packing for the very early flight (7am departure) the next morning.

            We had no trouble getting to the airport and getting checked in. We hadn’t been to Cardiff’s airport before – the lines were very long all over, but not for bleeping Flybe, which redeemed itself somewhat. From the prop plane I could see the coastal towns we’d walked past and through, which was the sprinkles on the top of a great trip where we’d overcome some hardships and made the best of everything. Lots of great memories and photos. We got some food at the Dublin airport and the flight back went much smoother. It was a long wait for the luggage in Newark, but finally we were on the shuttle to the parking lot, took the quick way out and headed home. We kept going through all the traffic. Ray got tired around Hazleton and I drove the rest of the way in a steady rain (!!) on another stormy journey. I loaded up some stuff for him on a memory card and he got me his photos of the first day and it was over.

            The takeaways: 1. Wales is a beautiful country with lovely people, and the coastal walk, with someone transferring your bags and staying at B&Bs along the way, is an outstanding way to see and immerse yourself in it. 2. The walking is not particularly difficult, but there is a lot of it. The trail footing is very good most of the time, and the scenery is relentlessly spectacular. 3. Cardiff is a top notch small city but it is hard to get to, with no direct flights and a very limited indirect flight schedule from the US. 4. I grew to appreciate the high tech style of hiking practiced by Ray. It saved us a lot of time finding where we needed to go. 5. Take more trains! Thanks so much to Ray Douglas for coming along!

Link to youtube slide show from the trip:

https://youtu.be/uIpSk-TmDbk

Link to youtube video, with all the cow related footage:

https://youtu.be/4LRV-UmERs0

My request that is never honored: Please leave comments and likes!

Hiking in Iceland: My 2018 Return

Return to Iceland: Hiking in 2018

            I found out I could do a trip in June of 2018 with not a lot of warning, so, after a brief exploration of activities, knowing I had a hiking trip planned with a friend in July, I set up a guided hiking trip to Iceland. I would get to explore an area I only briefly saw during my first trip there in 2013 with Greg and Kathy Wright. I didn’t even bother trying to find someone else to go with me, hoping instead to blend in with a group and to use the logistics of a travel company to get my luggage moved every day. My only stressor going in was ongoing foot and ankle problems that had limited my running and made it uncomfortable.

            Overall, things worked out well. I had roughly a day in Reykjavik before setting out early in the week on the hiking trip for 5 days. It was very interesting, scenic, and different, to sum it up for those who have no appetite to digest the whole of this document and who just want to look at photos and scan the highlights. Those who wish to may continue. I will stick with the diary type format that lends itself to these things.

Solfar, the Sun Voyager, along the waterfront in Reykjavik.

Saturday, June 16th, 2018 – to the airport and beyond:

            I was up before 5am, ran and lifted weights for my legs, and went back to the gym a few hours later to do an upper body workout before setting out after lunch for Newark. The ride was fine and I was able again to get to the hotel to park. I used WOW airlines for the first time on this trip. They fill the niche of the cheap, quirky airline to Europe with connections through the Keflavik airport near Reykjavik in Iceland. I booked the round trip flight for less than $300 on a travel website without looking very much at what it included, and ended up paying $114 additional for luggage, being misled to think I needed to pay for my backpack as a carry on and only noting after paying that I didn’t need to. My first duty at check in was to see if I could get a refund. I was told to call customer service, as the check in desks don’t deal with that. After getting through security, I called customer service while in the noisy and crowded waiting area: after 15 minutes on hold, I was told any baggage fees are non-refundable. Thanks, WOW, and this foreshadowed the rest of my travel experience with them. I will go out of my way from now on to avoid them, as no company has ever treated more like a credit card number and less like a person. You also can pick your seat ahead of time, but I didn’t because I thought there would be a fee for that as well. I was given a middle seat on a packed flight and was jostled the whole flight by the seat mates and the people in front and behind, including women talking really loud much of the time. So, not much sleep.

DAY 2, Sunday, June 17th, 2018 – Keflavik and Reykjavik

            We arrived at 4:55am. The only food and drink I had on the flight was my own water and snacks: WOW charges $3.29 for a bottle of water (the loud talking woman behind me got a glass of wine for $18.90 which didn’t help her volume control). Passport control was quick despite the early hour and I had my bag in a reasonable time. I had prepaid for a bus ride to Reykjavik (the Gray Line) and headed outside to look for it, as I was done quicker than even I’d hoped and wanted to catch and earlier ride. Of course, I couldn’t find anything related to the bus, so back inside I found the representative of the company, and it turned out there was no way I could have found it on my own. Anyway, she was nice, and I was able to get some Skyr, a smoothie, and an Icelandic flag donut and ate them all while waiting with her.

Hallgrims Church, the largest church in Iceland, finished in 1986, is 75m high. The view from my hotel.

            The bus came on time and took us to a bus depot in Reykjavik. I was able to use the free wifi to check my emails on the way, as it is otherwise a boring 50 minute drive. The next bus was smaller and took us on the local bus routes. I got off at stop 8, by the strange and wonderful looking Hallgrim’s Church. From there it was a short walk to my hotel, which was on the side of the front of the church. I went inside to drop off my bags, knowing it was too early to check in, and I was pleased the clerk allowed me to eat breakfast. They had a nice spread, and it all worked out because I was leaving too early for breakfast the next morning. I killed some time there and also talked to the clerk about whale watching and which place would take cash, as I knew I had a lot to get rid of. The first whale watching boats of the day left at 9am in the summer, so I walked down (about 15 minutes) to get one of those.

A street view in Reykjavik on my walk to the whale watching docks.

            The Elding boat was surprisingly full, primarily with Asians, but still had a lot of room to maneuver. We set out with surprisingly little safety information (they covered it all briefly once we were moving), and within an hour spotted the spout of a humpback whale (prior to that we’d only seen a few porpoises at a long distance). The guide, who was Polish, with a strong accent, was very helpful, and we followed that whale about an hour (at least it seemed like that). It was very unpredictable and never stayed on the surface long, and we never got close, which is their policy. I didn’t get a single photo, but did get two shots of the tail on video before it went down. All the other boats out there came over then and we finally left, and we didn’t see anything else other than some birds. I went down into their education room, which had posters about whales, and I was so fatigued - aching with it - I laid down on some chairs and fell asleep for 30 minutes, waking up only as they announced our arrival back into the harbor area. I was remarkably refreshed by that brief snooze and ready for the day.

            It was now around noon and the downtown area was much busier. I had to walk through the business area to get back to the hotel, so I stopped as I got near it at a Thai restaurant. I had an excellent yellow curry with tofu and then went back to the hotel (the Leifur Eirickson), where I was able to check in. My room was in a separate building across the street. It was pretty small, so my stuff took up a lot of space. I unpacked a bit and laid down to get off my feet for a bit before an afternoon run. I slept only a little.

            My run brought back a lot of memories. I ran along the waterline to the east, mostly on a paved path, but there was a small area of trails as well. It started to rain and was raining steadily by the end, but I enjoyed it and my feet didn’t feel too bad. It was 4.6 miles or so.

            I had done some reading of the local tourist newspaper and saw there was a neat restaurant not that far away, but I planned on stopping closer. Nothing suited me, though, so I eventually reached the place, inside a food court near bus stop 10 called Hlemmur Matholl. The place was in the back right corner, called Skal, and I got two small plates. One was highly recommended in the article, smoked carrots with seaweed and a fermented garlic/soy/mango sauce on a piece of grilled sour dough bread that was outstanding beyond description, and a curious combination of sautéed goat cheese with fennel crackers and rhubarb jam. They “hand made” a delicious kombucha as well. After that I stopped at the ice cream stand in the food court and was about to get the mix of three flavors (they knead them all together), but the counter guy told me to get the Baked Ice Cream Summit, with vanilla ice cream, passion fruit sauce, toffee/chocolate/caramel bits, and seared marshmallow on top. It was also outstanding.

            On my way back I stopped at a small grocery and got some snacks for the trip and for my breakfast the next morning. Then I went back and repacked, as we needed to take a variety of things on the trail and would have no access to our main bags until the evening the next day.

DAY 3, Monday, June 18th:  

I had to get up too early to run, but even though I woke up several times during the night I was able to get right back to sleep and my alarm actually woke me for once at 5:30. I showered and forgot to shave, so did that after, and then ate my snacks hoping my bowels would adjust to the new time zone. They didn’t, but to make a long story short, they were not a big problem despite my worrying. I checked out and headed to the bus stop. I waited about 15 minutes, getting turned away by one guy who was heading to the same place eventually but not with my group. The bus that took me had about 10 older women in it who were all jovial and picking on me as the only man, but I told them even as just one man I made the testosterone level high in the bus. Then a younger woman got on with an older woman. I couldn’t tell what their relationship was, but we weren’t in the bus long, stopping shortly after at a larger bus depot.

            After a bit of standing around, the guides and people in charge showed up. A blond man named Solvi, looked at some names and called out 12 people, and I was one of them along with the last two on my bus over, but none of the others. We moved off, and I could tell right away I had lucked out. The only issue was there were two people who spoke only French, but Solvi spoke French well enough and there were three others who spoke French well. It really only meant we had to endure double briefings, but I didn’t mind it. We had a little time before we left, so I went back inside and got some skyr. By that time, our bus had come and it was packed.  I kept my backpack, camera bag and jacket with me, and it was very cramped once a young man moved from the back due to motion sickness on the bumpy road. He turned out to be a welcome addition. He was a new trail runner from Baltimore and was coming out to do a several day hike and camping adventure with his sister. We talked most of the way, and he paid me a nice compliment: “You don’t look a day over 40 to me.” We had one 30 minute stop during which the local school children did lots of stuff to get our attention, and the trip took 4:15.

            It was a pretty drive, and the road was in good shape for dirt considering it had just opened. We had to drive across a number of streams without bridges. On arrival it was raining steadily, and things were a bit confusing, made worse by my camelbak pack leaking about 20 ounces of water in the bus. The seal attached to the bottom of the bag seemed to be the culprit, so I put the water pack in a dry bag and filled it back up. It worked out well and the bag, which was quite wet on the outside, didn’t bother me at all and was quite dry by the end. The info we’d gotten said this was a hike where we could take a dip in a hot spring, but it was at the start, and we only had 15 minutes, so I didn’t try. It was a disappointment as I was looking forward to it. We slapped together a lunch with bread and I added only some vegetables to it. I wasn’t worried about enough food; it was not a long hike and I had not run.

            Although it had been a confusing hour or so, it felt great to set off, and it was really attractive scenery initially. I had to keep myself from taking too many photos. The lava flows from various events in the past were obvious and the path cut through them well. It was raining steadily but not heavily, and I made a good decision to wear only my hiking pants. This served me in good stead throughout, having only one layer on my legs. When it rained, they generally stayed dry and I was never cold, even in high winds. We eventually walked a lot in slushy snow, often fairly deep, which was the only real challenge to the day for me. Otherwise the pace was never fast, and I never felt tired.

            We took a break for snacks in a really fascinating area just off the trail: a small stream running through an area where the snow had melted, with multiple vents of steam and hot water bubbling up all along the stream. Solvi boiled eggs in a bag in one area (not altogether successfully). We wandered further back along the stream until we could see an impressive steam vent up the hill, which was a steep climb but well worth it to see it up close. It was very loud, similar to a jet engine. Almost universally around the steam vents and hot springs were areas of bright green plant life: algae, mosses, and lichens, some a very vivid neon green.

A beautiful shot as we got up in the higher elevations and the snow later in the day.

            The lodging for that night was the highest elevation at which we would stay, probably around 1400m, and we walked down to it across snow. It was completely surrounded by snow in a scenic area. I immediately didn’t like the layout: the toilets and sinks were connected only by an outside boardwalk, though they were enclosed and had a roof on them.

The inside was cramped and chaotic. I finally got word we were staying in what was similar to an attic, a small area where the ceiling sloped rapidly downward to just above the floor on the sides. I hit my head several times negotiating it and was told I had to stay in the room packed with mats on the floor  (15 or so mats with no space in between) by one of the other guides. I immediately wondered why I had been charged $265 extra for traveling alone. Anyway, we made the best of it, some people hanging wet stuff on cords around the room, and others helping with the food preparation and movement. After an initial search, the sleeping bag I’d rented for $65 was also found.

            Dinner started a trend for the better with our group using the room the guides were to sleep in to eat. As best I can recall there was fish, rice, and some salad. After we were done, we wisely had a chat about the plans and also went around the table and introduced ourselves. I flashed back to my time with my nephew in Patagonia where I figured that my background would make me the most interesting person there only to be almost overwhelmed by the lives of the other trekkers. It was a similar experience here. No one said what they did, but they all introduced themselves. Abby and Sarah were a daughter and mother from California (they were on my original bus); Jana was from Germany and had been to many places for trekking, including Nepal; Natalie was a French-Canadian who’d nearly died two years ago and had this on her bucket list; Carine and Sandrine were friends from the French part of Switzerland; and the French couple, Marie and Serge, all said a little about their reason for being there. I was next, and said, “Je m’appelle Terry” to howls of laughter. I good-naturedly offered that I was a doctor if anyone was having any problems and told them about why I was there. It turned out there were 5 doctors out of the 12! Jana was a surgeon in training in Hapsburg, Sarah was a pediatrician, and Julie and Richard were both surgeons from Australia! Corinna, another hiker from Germany, had escaped from East Germany before the wall came down. Julie had just done an Ironman triathlon (she didn’t mention it, but her husband, who was immensely proud of her, couldn’t help himself) a week prior and did well enough to qualify for the team from Australia going to the Hawaiian Ironman in October! Carine was a nurse in an eating disorders unit and Sandrine was a police officer. So, I was middle of the pack yet again. It was great to hear about their lives and we all shared a lot about ourselves as we walked over the days.

            After dinner there were some chores and packing and repacking. A few people were asleep right away. I read for a  bit, did my last ablutions before the night out at the bathrooms, and tried to go to sleep. It was warm enough, and the mat was soft enough, but it was a bit too noisy for a good night’s sleep for me. Still I slept a bit and was one of the first ones up.

DAY 4, Tuesday, June 19th:

            We ate some porridge prepared by Solvi, and there were eggs, bread and jams with some skyr maybe. We then made our lunches: mine was a peanut butter and a nutella sandwich. Otherwise there was lots of activity as we packed and then the vehicle arrived to take our bags to the next hut. As we headed down the hill, the chief guide came out shouting at us. It turns out Sarah had taken the wrong hiking boots. After that was sorted spent much of the morning walking on snow.

            I would figure the walk from the day before was about 1/3 on snow. This day’s was closer to ½. On the steepest downhill in the snow we had to option to walk or slide, and I ran to it and slid down. We crossed a few small streams on rocks, then we stopped for lunch in a rocky spot that was nice. It started to rain as we got nearer to the place, which involved a nice descent to a lake.

            We arrived with a bit of confusion and were left outside in the rain while we figured out what to do and where to go. Our stuff had not arrived, so we had to sit around for a bit. When it did, I decided to try to go running. Unfortunately my heel was really painful and I was limited to 2 miles of starts and stops and walking, all in a steady rain. The terrain was otherwise good for running and I was really annoyed I couldn’t enjoy it. Showers were $5, so I saved money and took my clean clothes into a toilet and wiped myself down with baby wipes before getting dressed.

            Solvi had all sorts of snacks along and we ate them and talked until dinner was ready. This time it was traditional soup, with lamb in it, and some canned peaches. He had also made a vegetarian soup, and it was now I found out (whether or not it was true) that several of the others were vegetarians and they were not paying any extra for their meals.

            The sleeping quarters were a bit better: the mats were on raised platforms, but there wasn’t anywhere else to go to pass the time, so we played cards in the kitchen: first a game called BS, then I taught them the O’Rourke version of Rummy which is the easiest to learn. Jana, Abby, and possibly Solvi played that night, but the 4th person did vary from game to game. Then we went to bed. I was right next to Richard, who is 6’8” and snores, but he was pretty quiet and I fell right to sleep. I woke up fairly soon after, right around midnight, with a painfully full bladder, and I thought I would be able to just sneak outside and pee off the porch in my boxer shorts and t-shirt. I got downstairs and put on my shoes, but when I went outside there were people out there talking. My bladder was ready to burst, so I rushed to the toilets, which were not close by, in a lashing wind and rain. It was also quite chilly, especially in the toilet, and that bladder took a long time to empty. I hurried back and was able to settle down and get back to sleep, but I woke up again (!!, too much hydration), and this time put on my jacket for the dash to the toilet as it was still raining and quite windy (Julie told me later she went out around 5am and it was beautiful). I then slept most of the rest of the time until we all got up around 7am.

Part of the route I traveled on my rainy, cold middle of the night potty breaks. Now beautiful out.

DAY 5, Wednesday, June 20th:

            The morning had lots of hustle and bustle, was supplemented by a brief guitar and singing show by one of the guides, and then packing our stuff to go after a similar breakfast. The view from the porch was even better as it had snowed up in the higher elevations during the night. We could have walked in our water shoes from the hut, as the first stream we waded was just down the hill, maybe 400m or so. We took off our hiking boots and put on the wading shoes we’d been told to pack, then waded across in groups of two or three. I went with Natalie. Then we dried up, put our hikers back on and walked only a short distance to a second, much wider stream we also traversed fairly easily. The sun came out and it got a little warmer, and the snow patches were much less common.

            We came to the deepest stream and got across that with no falls or mishaps. The rest of the day was spent crossing a lava field wasteland. I noticed there were small bunches of flowers now blooming, with petals only a few millimeters across, but they only bloomed where sheltered from rocks. Solvi said little could grow in this kind of soil as it was constantly shifting in the wind and rain. We stopped in a nice outcropping of rocks and did some climbing around. I was down to a long-sleeved shirt and t-shirt and sweating a bit. We might have eaten there or a bit before.

            We headed back down to the trail and kept going on the flat for a while. There is a huge glacier to the east of the trail (our left) we never got very close to. Solvi had talked in his briefing about a “special place” near the end of the hike we could go to on the way or come back to once we’d gotten to the next hut. We veered off the path and were walking through loose gravel when a stunningly beautiful canyon appeared before us. It was pretty deep – Solvi warned us to be careful – and definitely the highlight of the trip for me. We took lots of photos and videos before leaving.

All of us holding the black rocks, with Hat Mountain in the background

            From there it was an easy walk to our hut, which was probably the nicest one we stayed in. We had our own little unit down the wooden walkway with a scenic porch.

Relaxing before looking for my "missing" sock.

This one had bigger mats we had to share – I slept on mine with Natalie. It was lovely out, and we sat on the porch and talked. I looked around and found the structure over the sinks to be adequate for pull-ups and did 10 while Sarah was nice enough to film me, then a few more sets before paying for a hot shower. Jana had taken a shower the day before and didn’t get hot water. This day she preceded me and said it was too hot. I talked to the woman about that and she said she’d fixed the problem. I was able to control the temp well and did enjoy the warm water. I also had time to shave, which was nice.

            We were able to eat inside and Solvi made some excellent grilled salmon in foil and the young Swiss chopped up a nice salad. We were talking when I took advantage of a lull to ask Solvi about the Icelandic peoples’ thoughts regarding elves, which our guide the last trip had entertained us about. Solvi gave a very entertaining discourse on the topic before people started to get ready for bed. We resumed Rummy, this time with Sarah maybe as the 4th. We went to bed late, and though I didn’t sleep well – worried too much about moving around on the mat and bothering Natalie – I didn’t have to get up to pee due to better hydration management ;-).

DAY 6, Thursday, June 21:

            Today was supposed to be the worst weather day of the hike, and it pretty much lived up to it, though it was never terrible. It was different terrain, steeper but shorter ups and downs, with smaller canyons, lovely valleys and interesting mountains.

We stopped by a stream for lunch a little early to beat the rain, and then it started about 30 minutes later, pretty steady, sometimes with a lot of wind. I didn’t get very wet, and it faded after about 45 minutes. Now there were trees, and we saw a ptarmigan, a bird Solvi had said he would name my group after. I had been joking there weren’t any and he was making it up, but then there was one sitting right near the trail and not bothered much by us. It was about that time my Achilles started to ache pretty bad, and it was annoying the rest of the way, which still had some ups and downs. We moved through much heavier foliage, and I recall hearing childrens’ voices and wondering if someone was watching a video when a family of 4 moved quickly past us on an uphill with two blond girls less than 5 years old chattering and singing as they climbed effortlessly past us.

            We entered a clearing and I could see the hut ahead and instantly started looking for a place to swim or at least take a dip. Julie was gung ho, too. Just then it started to rain, not too bad, but annoying. We quickly changed and went to a place where the stream going through the camp was a little deeper before a bridge. Corinna, in a bikini, was in there with lightning speed, lying in the water and expressing great joy. Julie followed her and nearly fell back in when she tried to get up. I was the slowest to be ready, fussing with my camera, and Richard filmed me, noting my knees had not gone under, a situation I quickly corrected. It wasn’t super cold, but cold enough, and it served as my shower for the day (Jana finally had a good proper shower there later).

            Here we had a back room all to ourselves with the tables right in it. I scored my own bunk (!), the top, next to Jana. I tried to dry my towel and swimsuit outside, but there was little hope in the cold rain and I ended up putting them in the trash the next day rather than carry them back. Tonight’s meal was roasted lamb and potatoes. I had been chipping in here and there with help, but this night I said I would do the dishes and Jana helped. She was super nice and very funny – it always impresses me when someone can be funny in their second or third language. It didn’t take too long, but while we were working in there the rest of the group shared their highlights of the trip. I missed them all. I said my scenery highlight was the special place, the canyon, but the real highlight was how well we had all worked together and gotten along. There was no drama, and I credited Solvi with setting a nice, relaxed tone right off and doing a great job cooking and guiding us.

            We had to study group dynamics a bit in the Air Force, and it is very common to form strong bonds with people when you are taking on a challenge together. I definitely felt it with this group. They had all treated me well and it made it a most memorable experience. Some went to bed soon, Julie memorably saying she was a surgeon and could sleep anywhere, even in a room with people playing rummy and also the French speakers playing a special game of Scrabble Sandrine had made for the trip (it had a different letter combination as well). That day I played a prank on Corine, putting a soccer ball we’d found in her sleeping bag, and we got a good laugh when she finally found it. Those two were also a lot of fun, and Richard really liked to pick on them. Abby won our only rummy games we kept score on, and then we got ready for bed. I walked to the sinks and brushed my teeth and peed, read my Kindle briefly in the kitchen, and when I got back to the room the tables had been pushed aside and the French couple was asleep on the floor in the middle of the room. I couldn’t have been gone for 15 minutes! I climbed up into the bunk, trying not to wake anyone up. Even on my own mat I didn’t sleep well, but I didn’t mind. It was still just nice to be there.

DAY 7, Friday, June 22nd:

            We got up around 7 and got ready. Today was a short hike and then a bus ride back to civilization. Breakfast was nice, with sour milk in addition to everything else. We headed out on some local trails with the goal of climbing a nearby mountain. It was cloudy, but not bad, and we made it to the top pretty quickly. It was a pretty spot, with the flat glacial plains around us, crisscrossed by streams and occasionally a vehicle trying to make it out there through huge puddles and crossing streams. We all posed for many photos, both individually and as a group.

            As we walked back, Solvi acted a bit indecisive and then said we might want to take a trail along a stream. That took us back into another great little space, where first Sandrine climbed a rock wall, and then into a little cave/canyon with high walls opened at the top and a stream of water running into it. We dropped our bags, but I was busy taking photos while everyone moved into the cave area. Richard then pointed out we had Sandrine’s bag right there and pointed to some wet rocks we could put in it. I chose some drier ones instead and then we went to find them.

            While we were wandering around, Solvi sang some traditional Icelandic songs and we tested the echoes. It was a sweet little end and we were all in good moods as we walked to our lunch spot, which was a set of tables at another campsite nearby. They had a warm pool there that really tempted me to get in, but I resisted. It was here Sandrine found her rocks! We took another trail back  and got ready to leave eating a few more snacks as we waited for word about the bus. During this time I tried to move a thermos of coffee and couldn’t see a small plastic lid behind a plastic bag on the table and it spilled spectacularly over Abby’s playing cards and onto her leg. I said my new nickname would be “Kaffefoss” or coffee waterfall, but it all made me feel terribly guilty.

            Anyway, the time finally came and Carine gave Solvi our tip before we headed out to wait for the bus, which was in sight, but took forever to get to us. We loaded up and realized why when we left – one stream after another to cross. There was enough room to sit alone, which was great. It took about 20 minutes to get to the camp we were just in, and about that time Julie realized her phone had fallen out of her pocket. She was distraught, but we kept going. Solvi was eventually able to call and see if someone found it. No word.

            It was a pretty but rough ride with lots of crossings. I suddenly was unable to stay awake or think straight. We finally reached more civilized areas and switched to a road bus. It still seemed like the ride took forever. Suddenly, though, we were in Reykjavik and the bus transition was super hectic. Jana was catching a different bus but I definitely wanted to spend more time with her, so we hurriedly exchanged information and planned to meet to watch the Germany-Sweden game in the World Cup the next evening. Sandrine and Corine had to keep the driver from leaving, even though it only took a minute or two.

            He dropped me at a spot I wasn’t anticipating and rushed me off the bus before I could say a proper good-bye to Sarah, Abby, Corine and Sandrine, and there I was.

            I found my hotel and checked in. At least I would be staying two nights. I got on email and sent emails to Sandrine and Corine offering to take them out to dinner, but they didn’t get them until they were back home. I waited a bit, cleaned up some and went out for dinner alone for the first time in 5 days. I was super tired, and my cognition was definitely off. I went to a place called Sumac and ate at their bar. It was a place known for its ovens, which I sat near and could see the cooks baking everything. I got some really good flat bread and then a salad and another liquid nitrogen enhanced date cake before going back, showering properly, and hitting the sack.

DAY 8, Saturday, June 23rd:

            I got up at 7 after a fairly good sleep and was able to run 5 miles with only a little bit of pain. I was very happy, going up and long the water’s edge on the west side of the city. I had hoped also to find some pull-up bars but didn’t see any – the waterfront in that area has changed a lot in 5 years. I was running late for breakfast so I ate quick before showering (it was chilly, so I didn’t sweat much). I decided not to do any trips and would just wander about and go to museums. The first was the National Museum of Iceland. It was raining lightly as I walked there. The building itself was nondescript and appeared to part of a university campus. It was nice inside and I had a great start to the tour, which emphasized the early settlers and their lives, including some of their bones. Then religion came to Iceland and that was what most of the rest of the exhibits were about, which was disappointing, thought the later history, with fishing ground disputes and their liberation from Norway and then Denmark was also intriguing.

            I wandered downtown for lunch, hoping to eat at a Pakistani restaurant that had a lot of vegetarian options, but it was closed. So I ate at a place that looked like a tourist trap but it was really good, with an excellent hummus sandwich. From there I walked to the National Art Gallery, which wasn’t easy to see. It was relatively expensive for such a small collection, but I found much to amuse me, including a photo exhibit called “Cars in Rivers.” I took a few photos on my phone to show Jana. I looked for souvenirs, getting a reversible hat with Gulfoss on one side and a volcano on the other, and an Iceland buff for my brother for helping me move (an Iceland soccer jersey was over $100, so I didn’t buy one since I wasn’t sure about the size).

            Jana and I were to meet in the small plaza where they had a big screen TV showing the World Cup. When I arrived there was a guy dressed as a Viking talking for far too long, but then the ambassadors to Iceland from Sweden and Germany started to get ready for a Viking fight. The Swedish ambassador memorably said into the mic, “Who thought this would be a good idea?”

            The actual fight was more intense than I thought and went on far longer than it should have, so we left to try to find a pub in which to sit and watch the game. After the Irish pub disappointed, we were able to get a table in the English pub, sitting near some other Germans, who were very fun. Three Swiss joined us in the corner It was an interesting game, coming down to the very end when Germany, a man down, scored on a perfect free kick. MY hands went up high as I shouted, “He did it!” Jana and I high-fived, but then she got ready to leave quickly and turned down my invitation to dinner. We walked back towards her hostel, which was on my way home, and she left me with a hug by the Hallgrim Church. I went to my hotel and got my Kindle and went back for more Thai food, which was again delicious. I was too lazy at that point to try to get dessert, so I bought a candy bar at a grocery and went back, doing a bit of internet stuff before bed.

DAY 9, Sunday, June 24th:

            I didn’t have much time to get things done today, but I woke up really early and couldn’t get back to sleep. I finally gave up and went for a run, which was really nice. I tried a different route but ended up on the main road east and then through parks and the waterfront on the way back. I did find some pull-up bars after about 2 miles and only did a few, dedicating them in my head to Julie and her lost phone. Foot still didn’t bother me much. I got breakfast and then went on a walk around the city for another 75 minutes until it was time to catch my bus to the airport (it is cheaper to schedule online than through the hotel).

            The bus trip was uneventful, and then I entered back into my reality check with WOW. I cannot express my disgust for their operation enough. I was told to check in at a kiosk, but it wouldn’t let me check my bag, so I had to wait in a line. Then they told me it was another $65 to get my bag back! $130 for my bag round trip! At least I didn’t pay for my backpack. Security line was long but endurable, and then, after trying to spend most of my leftover cash in duty free on chocolate, I took the gamble on an airport salad and waited. The announced for us to report to the gate, but then we all stood in a line for about 20 minutes while nothing happened, with two adjacent gates also having lines waiting for flights at the same time. Then they started letting people into the gate, which was on the other side of some doors. As I got in there after a fairly long time, we were yelled at to move in farther, which would have screwed up the line. We waited, jammed in that room (it did have seats, but only a few people sat down), for another 20 minutes while the crew arrived outside and one young man in a yellow vest seemed to be the whole ground crew, running all around and inside the plane. Finally they allowed us to board, so we had to walk outside in the cold blowing rain and traipse across the tarmac slowly while only one jet way was in use, though a second was in place. Then they shouted we could board through the back, but I was halfway up the other one at that point and then had to wander slowly to the back while the usual fussing about bags and seats went on.  Finally seated, I had the middle seat again, but was able to shift to the window when no one took it. It was an uneventful journey, with my butt less sore.

            Now the fun began. I got to the hotel and on the way noticed my phone wasn’t working right. Still, I counted on it for directions out of the parking lot, but it wouldn’t work, and I ended up squirming around Newark until I found a way to get on 78, with many false starts and missed turns due to broken or missing signs. Turns out there was a mistake in my billing and my phone service was shut down the day after I left, so all those calls were lost to the ether. But I got home safe and wasn’t too much worse for the wear at my 9pm arrival time.

The Trip Summary: Iceland is a don't miss country: lovely people, beautiful scenery, fun things to do, and really good food. WOW airlines sucks, but they will save you money over most others. Traveling with a group can be fantastic when everyone works together and gets along, even when you are all crammed into tight quarters at night. It was a bummer my achilles hurt so much as running puts a cherry on top of anything I do, but I still got some runs in Reykjavik, some pull ups, and some pleasant walking. If you want to do a trip like this, cut out the middleman and contact Iceland Mountain Guides.

Regrets: I didn't swim in the cold water of Reykjavik or make it to any hot spring or the community pool, which were highlights of the last trip. I am supposed to say not swimming in the lake the second night out, but that would have been hard. I am not averse to hard things, so  bit of regret, but not that much. The biggest is the not running part, but that was ok.

Spain with Madelaine and Kelsey, January 2018

Spain with Madelaine and Kelsey

  I've tried several formats for my travel articles. None has gone viral, but since Madelaine Mills and Kelsey O'Rourke, my nieces and traveling companions, kept journals, I hope to incorporate their thoughts into a daily diary and make it entertaining for the handful of humans who make the effort to embrace the entertainment that follows. Specific travel advice will be in bold, and Madelaine and Kelsey's input, which was beautifully colored in the draft, can only be made to stand out in this format by making them bold and in italics.

  First, let me offer up a summary of sorts. I'd traveled with both Kelsey and Madelaine to Europe in 2016; Kelsey on a fantastic tour of Italy for nearly two weeks in January, and Madelaine on a shorter and equally fantastic four days in Paris and three days in Amsterdam in late May. After finishing the second trip, we discussed trying to go back to Europe together, perhaps to Spain since Kelsey had studied Spanish in high school and college. With them both having jobs, it would be hard, and I had plans to go for several weeks to Nepal in December and January of 2017-18. In May of 2017, after planning to go on that trip for nearly 18 months (I'd been asked by its leader to provide medical support), I was summarily dismissed as I was not on the leadership team and not a university employee and they needed my spot for someone who had to do a trip abroad to graduate (in a shot of karma, the guy who took my spot caused a lot of trouble and had to be sent home early). After a few days of bitterness, I realized it was not worth it to fret over a trip with a bunch of university students for three or four weeks. Then it dawned on me I could go to Europe again in January and ran it by the girls. They were in and made a point to get the time off. Kelsey came up with a bunch of activities, so many Madelaine had an anxiety attack, but we eventually got it all planned, with me again using my travel websites to find good places to stay (both our hotels had rooms with three twin beds) and scheduling the flights.

It all worked out great. It was one of the most enjoyable trips I have ever been on. Madelaine and Kelsey were so much fun and got along so well, it took a load off me as I didn't have to entertain them. Kelsey was always our source of information and carried the maps, leading us where we were supposed to go. Madelaine rarely complained (the lack of a scarf at one point the main exception), focusing more on how she looked and the weather, which was chilly, but nowhere near as cold as Pennsylvania had been. The best part was the pure joy they got from sharing their adventures and photos on various forms of social media. Spain is a great place to tour, obviously, and we got a lot done in Madrid and Barcelona, but there is a lot more to the nation, and judging from what we saw traveling, it is a very pretty and varied landscape and the people are very nice. The main things I noticed: wide sidewalks, big plazas, lots of running/cycling/walking paths, lots of lovely parks, and lots of pretty women. It had the feel of Paris and Florence but a bit less crowded. Every place we went it was easy to walk around, with lots of little alleys, which I favor. The food was great and not too expensive. I would say culturally it is a step below France and Italy, but the Royal Palace in Madrid was certainly almost the equal of Versailles, and Sagrada Familia is the most spectacular place of worship I have ever seen, even without lovely frescoes by famous artists. The terrain is certainly more interesting than those other countries, but our sample sizes were small. So definitely make it a priority to go there and have a wander around! Here is the blow-by-blow account of the trip, with lots of photos.

Day 1, Saturday January 6th, Danville:

It was a bitterly cold day, with an overnight low of 1 degree F, and I managed to run, but only a short run with a stop at the gym to lift weights for my legs. I left Danville at 12:30 and got to Madelaine’s apartment before 2pm. She was all ready, but she hadn’t gotten gas. We took her car, as it was an automatic with all wheel drive, and I parked mine within a millimeter of the curb across the street, extremely proud how close I’d gotten as I’d backed it there onto the street from the nearby post office parking lot. We stopped for gas and I filled it, distracted by how dirty her windows were. I cleaned them quickly and then we were back on the road. We made quick progress and were nearing the Delaware River when Madelaine said, shocked, “The lid to the gas tank isn’t closed and is flapping around!” I got off at the next exit and pulled over so she could close it; our first good laugh of the trip. It was a good spot to do it as I could do a u-turn at the road and go right back onto interstate 80, and we zoomed along without any problems the rest of the way, using Madelaine’s phone to guide us through the complicated lane switches to get to our parking lot.

    It was an easy shuttle ride to the airport, and I recognized immediately our driver was from Nigeria, so we talked about Africa on the way. Check in went smooth, but then we waited a very long time at TSA before finally getting through. Kelsey had flown in from Pittsburgh much earlier in the day and was waiting for us at the gate. She had scoped things out with all that free time, so we wandered around to find the best place to eat and to get some supplies for the flight. We ended up back at a little Asian place right near our gate and got enough food to satisfy us.

    The waiting game began. Our flight was to take off around 8:30pm, but the flight before us seemed to take forever to get out of the gate. It was clear something was amiss, but the passengers on our flight still lined up well before boarding time and stood there (for hours!) while we were seated. That plane finally left, then ours was delayed even more. The pilot, after we finally boarded, seemed to vent a bit about the slowness of the loading of the plane; it seemed it was more than just the very cold weather, which the gate personnel had cited. He alluded to a work slowdown by the loading crews protesting having to work in the tough conditions. (Kelsey: The airport was still recovering from the Bomb Cyclone - a fabulous name, but terrible storm. I managed to watch an entire movie while we waited on the plane.)

I remember sitting on their left. I am not sure what sort of spell Kelsey has cast on her selfies.

We took off right around midnight and got to Madrid about 3 hours late. I fell asleep waiting for take off, but not much after that. Madelaine claimed to have slept well with a pillow she’d gotten from Christina Roig, who was at our house for Christmas. (Madelaine: This pillow was one of two key components to this trip)  Kelsey was probably somewhere in between us in amount of sleep and didn’t have much good to say about the flight otherwise. (Kelsey: Madelaine slept through dinner!)  

Day 2, Sunday January 7th, Madrid:

    Like many foreign airports, Madrid had a maze of walkways from the plane to the passport place, but once there we got through quickly. (Kelsey: We walked 1200 steps from the plane to baggage claim.) Baggage claim was another story, but it gave us all time to go to the bathroom, some of us twice ;-), to “officially arrive.” We wisely stopped for information once in the airport proper. The nice young man informed us of an option I am not sure we’d considered: the C train. After getting some Euros at an ATM, we had to take a bus to another terminal, and it seemed like it was 10 miles away. Finally there, it was a little hard to find, as there were multiple levels, but it was easy to pay with a credit card and then we headed downstairs. There was a train on the left side as we got there, and the girls headed for it, but then they stopped. I was a bit unsure of what was going on, but I tried to get to it past them and then the doors closed. It was the correct train, and we missed it! No big deal, except the next train took about 15 minutes to arrive, and then they almost didn’t get on again (Madelaine told me it seemed like I was telling them not to get on. I don’t recall that happening) (Madelaine: And I quote, “Wait, is it the correct one?”).  Finally on the correct train (though it was a local and made more stops), chatty little girls across from us entertained us for part of the ride. We reached the Principe Pio stop and got off. It is a pretty big place, but it didn’t take us long to get to the door, though there were lots of puddles, letting us know we might have some rain to deal with.

    It was a dry walk up a gradual hill to the hotel, a little over a quarter mile. It was almost 3pm by then; any thoughts I’d had of getting a run in once we got there had been dismissed at midnight in Newark. The hotel staff (Hotel Principe Pio - highly recommended) was very welcoming and we were quickly in our room after getting our passports copied and walking up the 2 flights of stairs. I was hungry, but not ravenous, and I knew that getting something to eat had to be a priority, but I also wanted to avoid anyone falling asleep. Fortunately M&K were fired up and we were out the door quickly, still trying to stick to Kelsey’s first day agenda of getting to the Reina Sofia museum, which was free on Sunday afternoons. Along the way we finally saw a restaurant that looked open and decent, so we went in. Madrid (and, to a lesser extent, Barcelona) didn’t usually have touts outside trying to talk passerby into dining there. This place did, and it was really good, marketed as “Andalusian.” I wanted something exotic and got it: stuffed peppers with squid ink sauce and a goat cheese salad. From there the museum was not far. It was raining lightly, but we still enjoyed the cityscape: lots of plazas and concrete buildings.

    The museum was really nice. I don’t remember much as they don’t let you take photos near the art. I took a few shots of long hallways and that was it, but the art is more modern and it is a good collection. Picasso’s Guernica is the most important work there, and it took us a while to find it. I’d had a print of it I’d hung in various low rent apartments and dorm rooms growing up, but that didn’t prepare me for its size. Like Michelangelo’s David, it is way bigger than you think it will be. Disappointed I couldn’t take a selfie with it, I moved on after only a short time admiring it. (Kelsey: Madelaine, who we had lost earlier, but found studying Guernica amongst the crowd, said as we were leaving the room, “Was that it?” I am still laughing about it.) (Madelaine: I was an art major in college.)

As we prepared to leave, we saw it was really raining hard, so we started our first tradition of the trip: the visit to the museum/landmark store. I was very pleased to find a miniature 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle of Guernica (It has taken me so long to finish this I have the puzzle done and framed) and Kelsey was even more excited to find an even smaller mini puzzle of it, only 125 pieces, in a little tube just a bit bigger than a roll of Mentos. We still had to go out in the rain, but we decided instead of walking to rush over to the Atocha train station across the avenue and take that back to Principe Pio. First we had a terrible time finding the place to buy tickets for the C train, then AGAIN missed a train that was just leaving, but this wait was even longer and involved us not taking another train that would have gotten us there. This made me not want to risk trying to take the train to Atocha Tuesday to get our high-speed train to Seville.

A brief respite on a bench at the Atocha Station's C Train tracks.

    During a break at the hotel, Kelsey found a highly-rated Tapas place not that far away, so we headed there. True to form, she had a spot of bother finding it, and it turned out we were right next to it at one point before walking around an entire block, (Madelaine: depending on what I am feeling and to make a bit of a puny joke I interchange the first three letters of my name to match my mood/feeling, in this moment I was Hangryelaine.) but it was worth it. It was great: wide selection and everything was awesome. I ate tuna tartare on guacamole with a good sauce, a huge plate of fried calamari, grilled goat cheese (goat cheese is so incredibly good!!), and fried cheese balls. We shared a bit, and the girls got some good things as well. After that we went to a nearby chocolatier that had a reputation for the best churros and hot chocolate, a Madrid favorite. We got quite a few churros and the hot chocolate was thick and delicious. I licked the cup before we left. The best part was they were cheap. (Kelsey: A Rick Steves recommendation!!)

    We walked back to the hotel and got ready for bed – it was already 10. We’d made it through a long day well and got a lot done despite the plane delays and missed trains.

Day 3, Monday January 8th, Madrid:

    I slept pretty well, but I also got up a lot to pee, and finally my nose started to run and I noticed it was 6:15, so I gave up trying to sleep any longer. It was very dark, but I got ready to run and was excited to try the paths along the river near the Principe Pio station. I noticed it was not getting light and checked the weather – sunrise at 8:38am! I had not planned on that! Still I ventured out, getting a map from the desk clerk. It was chilly – mid 30s – and the sidewalks were slick, but I made it down the hill and crossed the avenue with lots of commuters, taking the sidewalk to the river and its trails. This area was brightly lit, but the lights faded as I crossed the narrow Rio Manzanares on the Puente del Ray bridge and headed north on the other side. The paths were generally roads, but poorly lit, and I soon came to the end of them and was on sidewalks along a road that had a number of small playgrounds mixed in. I was constantly veering from road to sidewalk to adjacent sidewalk as they came to ends or people got in the way, and then I was back on a path, then there was nothing but an on ramp to a major motorway. I turned around and then spotted a bridge to the west of the river that crossed a major highway. I worked my way over that and then tried a few more paths, as it seemed like I was in one of the parks on the map. I eventually made my way back and totaled 6.3 slow miles.

    The girls were barely up – they may have woken just as I came in (Kelsey: We did), but they were both absorbed in their phones. I showered and went down for breakfast at the hotel while Kelsey was getting ready (Madelaine liked to shower before bed). We headed out along a similar path to the day before and stayed due east to the Prado, walking along many busy boulevards on a Monday morning.

  We stopped at a Rodilla for pastries for M&K and then went on. The Prado is down in a depression, and there were no lines at all. I’d prepaid before we left the US and it worked fine. It is a modern feeling museum, lots of space and good natural light, but initially it was also somewhat dull. (Kelsey: ‘Twas not dull! Some great Raphaels and Goyas. I was having the time of my LIFE.) (Madelaine: Dull.) Then we left the entry floor and went up to the first floor and it was clear this was the heart of the place. It was generally post-Renaissance artists, with many massive canvases by Rubens that enthralled me. I was fully sated with the beauty of paintings after we found all the Goya and Velasquez rooms. (Kelsey: Las Meninas, my favorite painting, forever changed me.) It took about 3 hours, and then we ate lunch at their very nice cafeteria, where I got a huge amount of food, all of it good. We stopped at the museum store and spent a while there before finally heading out.

    It was a much nicer day, a mix of sun and clouds and maybe into the low 50s. We climbed back out of the Prado depression into the hills east of it in search of the Parque del Retiro. It had a nice entrance gate and unusual trees with many posing opportunities for Madelaine (Madelaine: Supermodel documentary hour!!).

  Up a few stairs we could see a large pond with many people out in rowboats. There was a band playing to our right as we took in the view (Kelsey: That song is still in my head) (Madelaine: It was Michael Buble “Sway (Dance With Me”) before heading that way in search of the Crystal Palace. I had no idea what to expect, having not researched this area at all, so it was a big surprise. Not only was it a large, mostly glass-walled building, it was also the site of a moving art exhibit. We waited a while in the line and then were allowed to put surgical booties on our shoes and go inside. There were wet areas on the floor we were yelled at (Mad!) for nearly stepping on, and they turned out to be the names of refugees who had died crossing the Mediterranean for Europe. The water seeped up through the unusual floor (a bit like a firm sponge) and filled the names so they were visible (but not always). We took a lot of photos and selfies.

It was very nice. From there the girls went to the edge of the little pond in front of the palace, where several ducks were swimming, both of them feeling the need to touch the water.

    We made our way out along a little path to a cave visible from the palace grounds. Again we did lots of posing, as it was a nice change of venue.

There was also a bench with a good view of the palace for M&K to sit on briefly. One of the undercurrents of our walks around Madrid was my need for frequent pit stops, like I was starring in my own prostate medicine commercial, and we were lucky to find an open public rest room nearby. We continued back to the pond and looked at the nice marble and stone building on the other side, with multiple lion statues. Now, with my bladder empty, was prime time to look for a place to do pull-ups, and it wasn’t long until we found a playground with a number of children and their parents amusing themselves and decent set of upturned bars that were just far enough apart I could slowly do a set or two. Jacket off and with Kelsey filming, I did a slow 10 with the children playing just feet away and the adults trying not to watch. Then we found an even better one where Madelaine was able to get her elbows to bend a bit and Kelsey only maintained a grip with no discernible motion for less than 3 seconds. I had taken note of how nice a place it looked for running before we departed.

Nice shot on the walk back.

    With time to kill, we walked back north, past where we’d gone the day before, and reached the National Library. We finally ascertained we weren’t allowed to visit that day and left (just before the xray machine for our bags), with Kelsey dwelling on the mix of Spanish and English in her conversation with the woman at the desk there. (Kelsey: I was speaking to her in Spanish and she continually responded in English.) We headed west, finding the neighborhoods to be much like the rest of Madrid, and stopped for some crepes. Our waiter told us of his adventures traveling in the USA and took good care of us. We finally made it back to the hotel just in time for me to pee again. It was fascinating to see how fast M&K got on the internet when we got back to the hotel.

(Kelsey: After a short rest, we walked only two blocks to dinner. We were served one of the top 10 olive oils in the world. Madelaine and I both got grilled goat cheese salads, our newfound obsession. No idea what Uncle Terry got, because he didn’t write it down, which is why I’m filling in here. We went to bed early.)

Day 4, Tuesday January 9th,  Sevilla:

    This day was our riskiest (and most expensive) venture, a day trip to Seville by high speed rail. We all did our prep before bedtime the night before so we could jump out of bed and get to our taxi we’d ordered at the front desk. I woke up around midnight after only a brief sleep and realized I’d forgotten to take melatonin before going to bed, and now I really regretted it. I could not get back to sleep and killed 4 hours tossing and turning, reading my Kindle, and going to the bathroom. When I finally did fall asleep, I woke up all sweaty, but without time to take another shower. We were able to get the taxi without problem and to the station. We found our departure area right away and got breakfast at a very crowded and chaotic bistro adjacent to it. They finally announced our train, and we had a long walk out to our car. Unfortunately it didn’t let us sit together so we could play cards. Madelaine fell asleep in a funny position, but otherwise it was a fairly dull ride, starting out in fog, and I apparently fell asleep when it got more interesting, with lots of vast orange groves and orchards. I didn’t wake up until we were near the station.

    Kelsey took charge and went to information on another level to get a map while Madelaine and I went to the bathroom. We left on foot for the old part of the city, which was a pleasant walk from the train station in the cloudy (and chillier than advertised, hence Madelaine complaining about not taking her scarf) (Madelaine: This scarf was my life line, key component two of two for the entire trip) weather. There was a bit more traffic in the narrower streets than Madrid, but it was still easy walking.

Quite a spacious bench in Seville.

  We traversed a nice park and emerged in an old section of narrow alleys that then opened into a series of plazas with the towers of the Holy Church Seville Cathedral visible.

  We ended up walking almost all the way around the huge building (The brochure says it takes up 23,500 square meters, which is pretty huge, I guess, and it is the “largest Gothic cathedral in the world.”) before finding the cathedral entrance, where we waited outside in a line that moved very slowly. Inside it was fairly dark, but it was still pretty, with the main attraction Columbus’ tomb.

The principal figure in the most influential cultural event in the history of the world, for better or worse, has his remains in there.

  The best part of the cathedral was the ascent to its roof: a continuous ramp that went up inside a tower with 90 degree turns. Once we got back outside, there were nice views, though overall it was not that scenic except for the look down on the palace across the plaza, the Real Alcazar. There was a strange white thing that went high up at an angle near what looked like a shoreline, but I never could tell what it was.

The walk down was easy and we only had a short stroll to the Real Alcazar entrance, where there was a line for those who had not paid in advance. While waiting we were badgered by hawkers with umbrellas, as a light rain started to fall, and young men on Segways trying to get us to go on tours.

    The Real Alcazar has nice rooms, lots of elaborate tiles, and lovely gardens, but my enthusiasm was dampened by the steady rain now falling. The brochure traces its history back more than a thousand years and calls it “one of the most complex and important buildings in the world.” Kelsey found a spot from Game of Thrones and posed there, so at least we got that done.

  Then we left and found a really good tapas place for lunch. I’d hoped the rain would slow while we were eating, but it got worse. After a brief stop at another, smaller cathedral,

Kelsey pointed us to the Museum of Fine Arts, and it was dry and had some nice exhibits, especially of a project of Murillo’s for an altarpiece that was brilliant and well displayed. It was free and the staff were very pleasant despite us being all wet (we weren’t the only ones, though it was not that crowded).

    Back on the streets, we went to the main shopping area, which was nice, other than the rain. We didn’t go in many shops but we did go into an Amorino, an excellent chain of gelato and sweets shops Madelaine and I loved in Paris. (Madelaine: Gladelaine) I got a great hot chocolate and some delicious gelato macaroons. This was the moment we made the worst decision of the trip: to cross the river and look for a neighborhood that was allegedly “cool” on the other side. In a steadier rain we walked to the river and then found a bridge, but we were farther away than we thought as we traversed the other side. My pants were soaked through (I refuse to use an umbrella off the golf course) (Madelaine: I was wearing a raincoat, turtleneck, jeans, and NO SCARF all soaked through). There was nothing scenic at all except for the other side of the river from where we walked (Madelaine: MADelaine), and eventually we got to the bridge back over by the Golden Tower, an important building for the shipping industry to and from the new world, of which Seville was the main Spanish hub despite its location up river from the coast.

The Golden Tower, unfortunately taken just before they turned on the lights, making it much more appealing, but I was over it by then.

It was now getting dark, and we were desperate for shelter, a bathroom, and some food before our 9pm train back (it was around 6pm at this moment). We went into a restaurant, but they were not serving much, so we used the toilet (AHHHHH!) and went back into the rain. We found a good enough tapas place a little farther from the river and on the way to the station and ate there. It wasn’t that great, especially compared to where we ate lunch. The best part was a dessert I thought would be cake, but it was a selection of chocolates and goat cheese and honey, all of which were delicious. (Kelsey: The best part was actually when “Africa” by Toto came on and revived me and Madelaine.) (Madelaine: Gladelaine)

    We got to the train at a perfect time. This time I sat in front of Kelsey and Madelaine, and I hoped to sleep some, but it was a very rough ride, with the train rocking back and forth nearly constantly. It was too dark to see anything, so I got a lot of reading done (my Kindle has a light). When we exited the station, I couldn’t see the area to get a taxi, but Kelsey, with some urging (Kelsey: Now’s a good time to add that I dislike speaking Spanish), asked a bunch of policemen who were standing around and they pointed it out. It was a few hundred yards away, but I was happy to get in the taxi and very happy to get back to the hotel. (Kelsey: We walked 13.5 miles.) I was in bed in 10 minutes but needed to read for a bit to settle down. It was a good adventure for a day, but the rain took the edge off what Lonely Planet had called the one city to visit in 2018.

Day 5, Wednesday, January 10th, Madrid:

    After a better night’s sleep, I started our last full day in Madrid with a run across the city to the Retiro Park. The route I took didn’t have too many people to get around and got me right to the main entrance, from where I started a clockwise route around the inner periphery. It was nice, though one lookout was under construction. I found a much nicer outdoor gym and did two sets of pull-ups and two sets of dips and then got a little lost, but I managed to get back to the hotel after 6.75 miles.

    I thought the girls would be ready when I got back. I’d made the command decision after the long and wet day Tuesday to let them sleep in, and they maxed it out, still both asleep when I got back at 10am (Madelaine: Probably the second time in my whole life to sleep in this late). We were still out the door at 11, heading again east through the downtown on a scenic route.

I was very conscious of not having eaten anything since 8pm the night before. We finally stopped at a crepe shop that was uncrowded, and I got a crepe with nutella and granola, a yogurt, granola and fruit parfait and a hot chocolate – all delicious.

We went into the Cibeles Palace, which we’d passed several times, and went to the roof, which had great views.

After many photos, we descended a floor at a time, passing a soundscape exhibit (meh), another comparing Paris and Madrid, and finally using public spaces for art (meh minus).

    We wandered about and finally stopped at a frozen yogurt place. It was more authentic yogurt than in the US, so K&M didn’t like it much (bit bitter), but I thought it was great. From there it was streets and alleys to the big cathedral near the palace.

As we stood at the corner facing it, Kelsey saw a sign for crypts. Kelsey has a love-cringe relationship with death/bones/cemeteries, so we had to go down there. (Kelsey: I’m a sucker for a good crypt.) It was down a hill from the main cathedral. I can’t remember if we had to pay (Kelsey: We didn’t), but it was worth it: lots of columns, lots of little chapels, and many people interred in the floor and in other areas. It was dimly lit, so not the greatest for photos, but it took just the right amount of time.

    The main cathedral was underwhelming. Big, yes, but not much art other than some carvings and an elaborate, nearly kitschy altarpiece you could view up close. I made up names for some of the statues I may or may not have taken photos of: Jesus of the Golden Underwear, and Mary of the Holy Handbag, for example. It did not have roof access. Madrid, I’m just saying, low hanging fruit.

    Just across a (huge) plaza from the main entrance was the Palacio Real de Madrid. It is a vast complex, with a large, stone plaza inside its fence that could hold a good sized stadium.

We got in line, while others went right in. After a long wait and the line not moving, we started to talk about it, and some Americans in front of us (we had no idea – and they admitted to listening to our conversations) told us it was free after 4pm, and it was nearly 4pm. After all that waiting, though, it was free only for EU passport holders. We paid 25E.

    The whole complex is most analogous to Versailles, but there is much less gold and gilding and far fewer mirrors. The color schemes were excellent and the genius, Tiepolo, painted most of the ceilings in his trademark heavenly style, with robin’s egg blue skies and fluffy clouds. There were tremendous portraits scattered about and a really clever Christmas exhibit depicting a miniature old village at that time of the year. (Kelsey: Don’t forget the Stradivari violins on display.) Photos were mostly forbidden, but it was overwhelmingly pretty and a great expression of Spanish culture. (Kelsey: Bonus - King Charles III died in one of the rooms!) It started to rain as we got ready to leave, so we killed some time in the store (it was nice) and it worked out well, as the walk back was fairly dry and short.

    After a brief rest, and for K&M, a social media recharge that may have started with the robust belly laughs associated with a photo of Kelsey on the roof of the Cibeles Palace in the wind, we headed out into the evening gloaming, walking very crowded streets up the hill just past the hotel to where there was an Egyptian Temple moved en mass from Egypt to Spain in appreciation for some good deeds, perhaps during a flood of the Nile or a famine. It was really spectacular, and the light and reflections very nice. I wish I’d taken more photos, but what I did turned out great. I couldn’t get the camera to pick up the pink tones to the sunset, but it was a fitting last evening in Madrid. (Kelsey: Mine were better.)

    From there we walked all the way to the east side of the old city to a restaurant that had rave reviews online, billing it as a don’t miss. We were there with very few patrons (I thought it would be jammed), and I immediately didn’t like the menu. There was much hovering and service, and the food was good but not great. Finally we made our escape after Kelsey heard them saying to keep trying to get us to buy some drinks or more food. It was hard to find a good dessert place, and we settled for a crowded bakery, but it was certainly enough food by then, and we were soon back in the hotel.

(Kelsey: We were very sad to leave Madrid's superb tap water and our room's powerful shower behind.)

Day 6, Thursday, January 11th, Madrid to Barcelona;

    I got up at 6:30 on our last morning in Madrid after another poor night’s sleep. I wanted to run the other direction along the nearby river, which looked like it had paths on each side. I crossed and recrossed the river and ran nearly all the way around the main football stadium before crossing the river and heading further south on the west bank. There was a fantastic bridge that looked a bit like a coil or slinky.

I ran across it at the most distant portion of the run before heading back. I ran a bit harder on the way back as the footing was better and stretched it out to 6.3 miles with a bit extra in a park near Principe Pio. M&K were still in bed when I got back, but even with me going downstairs for breakfast, we were well ahead of schedule.

    We got to the station in plenty of time by taxi and were able to board the train to Barcelona early. It was a very scenic ride, with desert like terrain in parts before entering areas with more small towns. It was only a few minutes from getting out of the train to the taxi and from there to our hotel, the Hotel Gaudi, right across the narrow street from one of Gaudi’s buildings.

    We had not eaten lunch, so we headed out for the beach and to get something to eat. Barcelona was sunny and warmer. Kelsey and I made the spur of the moment decisions not to wear jackets (it was mid-50s), and we quickly regretted it, as there was a brisk wind once we were out of the shelter of the alleys. Madelaine rubbed it in a little (Madelaine: Karma for telling me not to bring my scarf to Seville I suspect). The famous street, Las Ramblas, was only a few steps from the hotel entrance, and we walked down that, bypassing plenty of places to eat, settling to sit down for a late lunch at a restaurant on the main road by the harbor and beaches.

We had an interesting meal, with me trying tripe (to be honest, yuck, though the sauce was delicious) and getting several other tapas that were good, before setting out for the beach. We saw a gelato place on the way and got some. It was a longer walk than I’d figured, not helped by the wind and the chill. We had to pass many, many street vendors on the way, though they were not annoying, and finally, we could see the Mediterranean Sea.

    M&K took off their shoes and waded a bit in it. They were good about not complaining too much, though Kelsey had to stop later to get a bunch of stuff out of her socks and shoes (Madelaine: I was resourceful while using my water bottle to wash my feet off and my beloved scarf to dry them). We didn’t go very far, but it was obvious it was a pretty place where a lot of people converged.

    As usual, by the time we got back to the hotel, all our bladders were straining. We took a bit of a break to collect ourselves and settle in before heading back out. It was still light, but fading, and we went to the roof for a view of the city and the Gaudi house across the street. The views were enthralling; such a different idea of how to build and decorate a building! By the time we got to the street it was getting dark.

   We went right into the crowd of Las Ramblas and headed north into the city. Lots of beggars, hucksters, and people were milling around. We didn’t want to eat yet as it was too early, so we kept walking up to see more of Gaudi’s buildings at night, first the Battlo (the best one) and then across the street to La Pederera,

before we decided to press on to see the Sagrada Familia at night. It is hard to say the Sagrada Familia could ever be a disappointment, but the lighting wasn’t all that good (it still looked fantastic) (Madelaine: Disappointedelaine). We headed back on what had now become a very long walk, past the Arc di Triomf, which was beautiful at night (and had an odd group of people exercising near it).

  Now desperately hungry, we finally stopped at a place that looked like an American diner. The food was good, but it otherwise had no ambiance. It was a nice walk back to get in before 9pm and to bed early. Another day with a lot done.

Day 7, Friday, January 12, Barcelona:

    Big day today, as we headed out early to make it to Sagrada Familia for a guided tour set to start before it opened otherwise. We started walking in the dark and eventually stopped for breakfast at a smallish place that didn’t have much I would like. I got a whole grain croissant and an OJ, and then had an adventure with the bathroom, which had an anteroom with a sink and then another room with a toilet and a hard to find light switch. I only closed the second door. Kelsey jumped to the conclusion I’d gone elsewhere (Kelsey: I assumed he had been murdered), so they were relieved when I emerged and they both used it, since we didn’t know what was in store at Sagrada Familia (to save my typing, henceforth SF).

    When we arrived at SF, the rendezvous point was not obvious. I asked a man who looked like he worked there and he said it was around the other side. We hustled around and stood near a floppy haired guy who eventually asked us if we were looking for him by flipping his phone over to show the name of the tour company. His name was Jordy, and soon a number of others turned up and the tour started. First we crossed to an adjacent small park to talk about the building in general, which was now being lit by the early morning sun quite well and reflected on the small pond in front of us.

    Jordy was very informative. He talked nearly the whole time and rarely entertained questions. He had some delightful verbal tics, including pronouncing “height” as “heith” and referring to distances as “seven dot five” for 7.5 meters. He was truly passionate about the building and its principle architect, Antoni Gaudi, and well versed in Gaudi’s devotion both to nature in design and powerful faith as well as his constant use of symbolism. SF is easily the most impressive house of worship I have been in and around. There is nothing like it anywhere: beautiful stained glass the colors of the various seasons, curvilinear designs and shapes all over, statues placed in compelling spots, and vast open areas bordered by towering concrete pillars branching out in arboreal webs as they approached the ceiling.

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

I could have stayed there for hours and taken a thousand more photos. The tour was over in about 90 minutes, during which we looked at both entrances and much of the interior. We left Jordy and took the small elevator to the observation areas on or about the roof. Once it is done, it will be even more spectacular, but the decorations and angles are absolutely entrancing.

From there we walked down a quite narrow and tightly twisting staircase to the ground floor, with Madelaine gripping the railing for dear life (it is easy to forget that underneath Madelaine’s goofily endearing self-absorption lies many of the typical O’Rourke anxieties passed down from her mother) (Madelaine: In my defense this was a tight spiral staircase with only railings on the left side, one misstep to the right and you’re a goner for sure!). (Kelsey: Jordy, on coming down from the top: “There are 400 steps down from the top. Or you can try the one-step method, but I don’t think that’s safe.” What a funny guy.)

    After looking at the outside from several other spots,

we toured the rest of the exhibits there, including a sacristy with some of the implements designed by Gaudi and a museum with models and other displays (Gaudi liked to study the effects of gravity and light directly by building models and using string and other objects to measure the forces, a very time-consuming, but ultimately very accurate and innovative way to design something like SF). In one corner there were small windows through which we could see Gaudi’s tomb, which made Kelsey happy. Gaudi, who had significant hearing loss as he got older, was tragically killed by a trolley car he did not hear coming as he crossed a street. (Kelsey: Jordy, on Gaudi’s death: “He died the way he lived - the most efficient way.”) His vision for architecture and the light-hearted results shape much of Barcelona’s charm and vibe, probably to a greater degree than any other architect or designer does in any other city.

    We started back towards the south, again passing the Arc di Triomf, which is lovely on a sunny day with blue skies (as nice a day as you will get in the city)

and a few parks en route to the Picasso Museum. We stopped at a nice little restaurant on the way and got mini pizzas (good!) before finding the museum, which was not anywhere obvious, tucked instead in a series of alleys. Madelaine and Kelsey loved it, succumbing to the charming photos of the older Picasso and his various family and friends and many of his lesser known but still delightful works (especially from his early career). I was a little less impressed, having managed to get my own urine all over my underwear in a hard to explain bathroom incident prompted at least by trying to pee with too many items in my hands. Still, the merino wool dried out well and I was able to enjoy some of it. His pottery was fantastic and I was moved to buy a lovely bowl later to use as my cereal bowl back home. It is something I thoroughly enjoy looking at every day (#bestsouvenir). (Kelsey: The real #bestsouvenir is my micro puzzle of Guernica, but the cereal bowl is also nice.) (Madelaine: I got a silk screened t-shirt of  Picasso’s “Paseo de Cuadrillas”, any type of printmaking is my favorite kind of artistry.)

    We were back at the hotel with plenty of time in the afternoon for me to go on a run. I planned to go to the park where the Olympic stadium was, Montjuic. I thought it would be flat, but it was on a huge set of hills. I had a devil of a time getting up there, including running through a long tunnel with noisy traffic and seeming unending ascents. I finally arrived at a fort overlooking the harbor, with its massive shipping vessels and cruise ships. I took my smaller camera and stopped from time to time to take a few photos, especially of the gondola that came up on the other side.

The roads were very narrow and twisty – the logistics of getting all the people and athletes to and from the stadium must have been forbidding. Somehow I found an easy way back down that kept it from being too long (5dot7 miles), and I was gushing with pleasure at having climbed those big hills and taken the photos on such a lovely day.

    I got back while M&K were gone shopping. (Kelsey: We had also taken a Spanish siesta for a bit, falling asleep so quickly that Uncle Terry hadn’t even left for his run yet before we were out.) They felt like it was a risk and I might get upset, but that was a great idea, something I would not have wanted to do otherwise. (Kelsey: We walked past a cellist in the Gothic Quarter that moved Madelaine to tears.) (Madelaine: It was so beautiful, it truly felt like a moment out of a movie and I was about to meet the love of my life.)  I didn’t have to wait long for them, and we rested a bit before setting out for some tapas, which were really good. (Kelsey: This was our best meal of the trip. The menu was very creative - shrimp croquettes with saffron aioli; zucchini ravioli stuffed with tabbouleh, goat cheese sauce, sundried tomatoes, and almonds; spinach crepes with salmon tataki and cinnamon, pistachio, and mascarpone sauce; the list goes on, but suffice it to say that we ate like “reyes” - kings.)

On the way back I got my aforementioned bowl. We did a pit stop at the hotel and then headed back out for more walking and nightlife and, of course, gelato. This night we found an Amorino (Madelaine: Gladelaine) and I wanted gelato and crepes. I asked the server, a young man, why the menu only said two scoops of gelato with crepes, when there was a photo of three scoops in crepes on the menu. He explained that was “El Irresistible,” which was three scoops with whipped cream and caramel sauce. I had to have that!

We ate our orders while sitting on La Rambla on nice chairs before walking back. Another day packed with enjoyment and finally blessed by great weather.

Day 8, January 13th, Barcelona:

    As so often happens to me when I travel, I started to get sick overnight with a sore throat and then terrible post nasal drip that kept me up for hours as it hurt too much to manage the drip. I finally got up and went to the bathroom and used my nasal spray, which made a huge difference and let me sleep until after 8am. I ran down La Rambla to the roads near the beach and finally to the beach itself, where I was actually passed by a guy (getting passed almost never happens to me) while I was still warming up. I then tried to catch another guy who was running a decent pace along the waterfront heading east, catching him just as I was turning around at the 3.25 mile point. I ran harder on the way back and saw the start of a half marathon and the various packs following pacers holding flags coming the other way. I was distracted and missed the turn back into the downtown, but it was a nice day and the harbor was a good place to run. 7dot3 miles. For once M&K were up and ready, so I rushed a bit and got ready fast. There was a great breakfast place just across La Rambla where I got delicious yogurt and muesli with a smoothie and they got crepes. They had a neat machine that made the orange juice and she made the crepes right where we could see them (inspiring me to make crepes for our video and slideshow party once we got home – not as good, but certainly not bad).

    We went through the Gothic Quarter, the area they had been shopping the day before, and it was a neat mix of alleys and old stone buildings finally opening up into a lovely plaza with a huge cathedral on one side. The cathedral had a nice exterior, with lots of people milling about.

Adding to the ambience was a really good band busking just down the church steps, an electric violin, bass guitar and acoustic guitar (Madelaine: this is also where I got overly emotional by the instrumental playing of “Cheap Thrills” by Sia). Anyway, they were great, and the violin guy could really take it up another notch, making me like Coldplay for a short time. Madelaine was really excited (Madelaine: Excitedelaine). We went into the cathedral and it was nice, a bit low on quality art, but pretty.

We were in one of the last groups to be able to take the small elevator to the roof, which was well worth it. There were benches and nice cityscapes in addition to the towers around us. We watched the band more after we got down until they took a break.

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

    Our next destination was the Park Guell, a Gaudi-designed park many people called the highlight of Barcelona. We took the Metro for the first time and got off at a stop that looked like it was the closest, but there was no sign of a park from there. We climbed a big hill much to the chagrin of M&K and seemed to be lost. We kept pressing on and came to some trails and followed them around until we finally found a map. We’d come in the back way, which was also the hilliest. We found the main parts of the park and had to ask a few times where to go, but we finally got that straight and went into the areas where Gaudi’s smaller buildings and plazas were.

It was fascinating, but also quite crowded, with long lines for most of the exhibits. The one house was definitely not worth the long wait in line, but his benches are simply the best – perfectly angled for the back and legs of any height. We took lots of photos as we wandered around, and while trying to get a selfie of all of us, Kelsey almost fell and it got them laughing so hard they had to take more selfies of the tears on their faces (!).

We ate at the little café on site, which was also crowded but had good food. From there we exited out the front and went down the hill to a different Metro station, where our day pass wouldn’t work, so we had to buy more tickets.

When we got back to La Rambla it looked like rain so we took a break before heading out to try to catch the light show at the fountain in Plaza Espana. It was a nice walk. We got there early and got good seats after walking up the hill to the steps of the Catalan Art Museum.

The weather didn’t look good, and the time for the show to start passed, and after waiting even longer, we were finally disbursed by a steady rain. After seeking shelter there, we walked back down, assuming they’d canceled the show without telling anyone. It was raining hard enough we didn’t want to walk all the way, so we took the Metro again back to La Rambla and found our way to another plaza where we ate at a place called Oceana. It was my favorite: good music, comfy chairs and I got oysters (also pea and asparagus soup and pumpkin tortellones). We tried to get a cheesecake I’d lusted after earlier in a shop, but it was gone. I got a lemon meringue tart and a caramel/nutella pie (only the tart was good, the pie was guilty of disproving my theory of how good great things combined can be). We got back to the hotel and packed, enjoying our last night in Spain.

Day 9, Sunday, January 14th, Barcelona to Pennsylvania:

    We had to leave too early for me to run, so we got a cab to the airport and then got breakfast there. The flight back left on time with only the usual hassles. We got back to Newark and had no major trouble getting back into the US, avoiding Kelsey having to take another photo at passport control. (Kelsey: On our way back from Italy, I took a photo so ugly that the people behind us laughed and even the U.S. Customs guy smirked. I’m proud of it.) Madelaine and I said a sad good-bye to Kelsey, who had to wait many hours for her flight back to Pittsburgh. (Kelsey: By the time I got home, I’d been up for almost 24 hours.) We got to Madelaine’s car, which she was very worried about, and it was fine (Madelaine: I left a magnetic key holder under my car with the spares inside just in case something happened to my keys we brought along, plus you never know with the wackos in Newark). We drove back and stopped at a Panera before getting to her apartment. The trip took way longer than I thought and it was already dark. It had snowed while we were gone and my great park job made it very hard for me to get my car out. I had to go back and forth multiple times before I was free of the snow mounds, and then the car didn’t handle well until I was almost back to Danville, with the roads often icy. I was really tired and spent only a few minutes at my parents before getting back in the car for the last 30 minutes of the ride to Selinsgrove, where I had to work the next morning. It was a hard trip back, but a great week of traveling with two really fun young women I am lucky to have as nieces and companions. I hope we can go somewhere else soon.

Canadian Rockies Part Two/Deux, 2017

The site of the most exciting part of the trip: Terminator 1, Via Ferrata.

I loved my trip to the Canadian Rockies in 2016 and spotted many activities I wanted to do on another visit, and they seemed to be things Kathy and Greg Wright would like to do, so I kept egging them on until they committed to it despite having multiple other summer plans. We decided on the 3rd week of July, after the Calgary Stampede, and, though I had a devil of a time getting lodging and everything planned, possibly because it was the 150th anniversary of national parks in Canada and admission was free nationwide, it all worked out.

I was greeted at 3am, as I was getting ready to leave to drive to Philly to catch my 8:30 flight, with an email from the first night's lodgings saying my credit card had been turned down. I emailed them back and reassured them my credit card was good and I would sort it out, but no matter what they would get their money. Once I got to the hotel where I was parking, I caught the shuttle. I told the driver I was on WestJet, but it was an international flight, so I would probably be leaving from Terminal A. He said there was no WestJet at Philly. It was contracted through American Eagle, so he told me it would be terminal F. So I got out at terminal F a little skeptical, and tried to check in but it said my passport wouldn't scan. I asked one of the American Eagle employees if this was the right place to check into the flight to Toronto, and he only nodded. So I got in line and waited about 20 minutes to get to the desk. I asked the guy if this was the right place to check in for that flight, and he never really answered and started to do what he does, but he kept sliding my passport through the reader over and over. I asked him if there was a problem and he muttered something about the system not allowing me to check in. Then he got on the phone and stood there on hold for at least 10 minutes, then did some more computer work while holding the phone, swiped the passport a few more times, then finally, after I'd stood there for 30 minutes at least, gave me boarding passes, put a tag on my bag and told me to drop my bag in an area off to the side and said something nearly unintelligible about catching a shuttle and shouted "next!". I was a little confused, but I gave up on him and the rest of the people there quickly and went through security. Once I was in Terminal F, I asked someone there about it; my gate was A14, yet I was in terminal F, and she said I did indeed need to take a shuttle to terminal A. That rat bastard shuttle driver!! He wasted 45 minutes of my time taking me to the wrong terminal! The clock was ticking and I still had to call my credit card company.

I took the shuttle and hurried to the gate. There was no one working there. I called USAA, and every number I had seemed to be wrong, but finally I got a person on the line and she said the charge for the hostel had gone through! So, that problem was solved, I guessed (the hostel sent me an email soon after that they'd put the number in wrong. Duh.). Now to make sure I was booked on the correct flight, as I had no seat assignment on the ticket, either. Finally someone came to the gate and after waiting for a guy who argued with the man behind the desk for a while, I got a seat assignment and was assured everything else was booked through. To add to my traveling stress, I couldn't tell if everything was all right with the Wrights once I got to Toronto. They were supposed to be connecting there as well, with a short turnover time, but they were nowhere to be seen and none of their flights were listed, and my turnover had taken a remarkably long time. I left for Calgary not knowing whether they were going to make it. My stress was needless, as they flew Air Canada and didn't have to do any passport stuff or customs in Toronto (keep that in mind for future reference. Canada.). I was sooo relieved when I saw Greg walk up while I was waiting for my bag! We had to call the rental car company to get their shuttle to come by, but that didn't take long. The rental car place otherwise was Purgatorial in its demands on my patience, but after pushing the boulder up the hill many times (it took 45 minutes after I got to the desk to get us into a vehicle), I was released into the relative splendor of a Dodge Durango.

We picked our way through Calgary's traffic and construction zones and were finally on the open road west to Banff, where we planned to stop for dinner. I was worried about parking but we found a spot pretty easily despite my parking aversion. We ate at the same Indian restaurant I'd eaten at with my friends Belayneh and Yenu last year, and it was really good again (and much more crowded). After a relatively brief roam around Banff's downtown, we set off again, with me always conscious I'd hardly slept the night before and was destined to sleep in a dorm room that night at the hostel I'd booked, the only reasonably priced lodging I could find in the town of Golden (it saved us about $450), which would be our base the next 5 days (though only three days at the hostel - too long a story there even for this blog).

The Trans-Canada parkway, Route 1, was pretty but also had a number of construction sites that added time and tedium. Finally we were in Golden and the hostel, Dreamcatchers, was easy to find. I'd chosen it because it was highly rated and the extroverted Wrights would probably enjoy its common area and the owners. I was fairly spot on about that, but not about my own lodging, which I thought was just a small room with one set of bunk beds I had to myself while sharing a bathroom. Instead, it was 3 sets of bunk beds in a small room, and by the time we got there, approaching 11pm, several of the lodgers were already in there trying to sleep. All six beds were full by the time I made it in, sacrificing my usual bedtime routine as I thought I was exhausted enough to fall asleep anyway. I was not, and the noises from the top bunk, the street outside and the many trains going by kept me awake well past 2am and then, if I slept at all, it was only briefly until the roommates' cell phones started going off around 5:30. I gave up on sleeping around 6 and went out to get ready to run, at least having planned ahead with all my gear out so I would make as little noise as possible.

It was a brisk but pretty morning and I found my way to the river that split the town and headed east on a gravel trail along the river, with great views of the mountains and the noise from the moderately rough water calming my jangled nerves. I found a trail network I'd seen on a map and took it past schools and playgrounds, where I stopped briefly to do a set of 12 pull-ups on a jungle gym. The trails all seemed to want to go into the mountains, but I resisted, partly out of fear of bears and partly out of fear of wearing myself out. It was still a good run and I made it over 6 miles and got a feel for the area.

I went to the nearby grocery store after showering to get some cereal and milk, and after eating, we headed off to Mt. Revelstoke National Park, another 90 minutes or so west of Golden, through Glacier National Park on the way. Our destination was the Revelstoke Mountain Resort, and the Mountain Coaster it contained.

The drive over was nice enough, and we scouted locations for stops on the way back. The sky, however, was fairly thick with smoke from the many forest fires in British Columbia, blamed partly on the stretch of hot, dry weather preceding our arrival (At the grocery store, some guys at the counter were talking about that, saying last summer had been very rainy and cold. I could verify that, having done my share of running and hiking in steady, chilly rains in 2016.). There were no signs for the resort as we went through Revelstoke the town, and we only found it after calling them and getting directions after we drove several miles past town (even then there were few signs. Canada!). There weren't that many cars there, but we soon found the check in for the mountain coaster, called "The Pipe" (I told Kathy my goal for the day was to set the record for the number of times saying "Pipe" in a day for non-plumbers). Our tickets got us gondola privileges and Pipe privileges, but it wasn't easy to figure all that out. One of the girls, from Australia, was a bit of a grump, while her coworker was a cheerful Kiwi who couldn't believe I'd spent nearly two years living in Waimate. Fortunately, they had a good set up for waiting for the Pipe: electronic boards kept up with when our number should load the gondola. We waited about an hour, with Greg and Kathy playing a "chutes and ladders" type game and making at least one trip to the coffee shop, La Baguette. At every chance, I discussed with the locals and the employees the virtues of not using the brake at all on the coaster, though one guy did say it was possible, but our spines would surely snap on the third turn.

Our numbers, 921-3, finally came up and we ascended in the gondola. The view was surely great on most days, but we could barely see the river at the base through the smoke that day. We did see a few people coming down the course and it looked a bit tougher than I thought, with one turn in particular (turned out it was the 3rd) being two quick 90 degree turns on a steep part.

We got into line rather than walking around, and it only took a few minutes before Greg was sitting in front of me in his little sled with our feet under one strap and a sturdy belt holding our upper bodies on. The only control was a bar in the middle - push it forward and it went fast, pull it back and it slowed. I was hoping to carry my camera, but they wouldn't allow it, and Greg forgot his GoPro again.

Greg is SUPER competitive; I am only slightly less so, and I knew with him going first he would do whatever it took not to allow me to catch him. He waited extra time after the person in front of him left so she wouldn't slow him down, and then he was off. I waited a long time for him, also. In line, I told Kathy I had been talking big about no brakes, but I knew I would likely be hitting them right away. After a few photos, I was off and, sure enough, there was a steep drop as the rails headed into a very small tunnel and I was already on the brakes! I was laughing to myself, but the ride was also quite intense at the top: many sharp turns and steep parts. About halfway down I was more comfortable and didn't use the brakes any more and had a ball. Greg was already out shooting video of me as I came in, and I jumped out with plenty of time to catch Kathy coming in just ahead of the guy behind her. We all agreed it was fun but really intense. Greg's arms and torso were cramped and sore from all the strain it took to keep from hitting the brakes (I was fine). We discussed this all while eating lunch at La Baguette, our most visited Canadian Rockies attraction of the week.

We took the gondola all the way to the top, looking at the ski slopes, which were impossibly steep and rough, full of cliffs and drop offs that would certainly get the best of me. We went back to La Baguette a final time for ice cream and ordered our photos before leaving.

We stopped at several roadside attractions on the drive back, almost all of which had trails or wooden walkways through interesting ecosystems. Greg and Kathy didn't want to stop for the Skunk Cabbage Boardwalk (later, we heard from others that it was really neat - there is also a big write up about it in the free tourist magazine for this summer), but we went to the Giant Cedars (good), Hemlock Grove (Bad!), and Rock Gardens (worth it) before we got off to do the Loop Trail, which went around an area of a former train bridge and avalanche area (the avalanche made them move the tracks and bridges). It started to rain when we got out of the car, and the last other visitors left right then. We pressed on, but the trail got middle-of-the-night dark as the rain picked up and we started to hear noises in the trees. Greg turned and thought one of the signs was a bear (superimposed in front of it were two other wooden supports), and after it sounded like some rocks fell just up the hill from us, we were walking quickly and then running back as thunder started to rumble. We'd been joking earlier about how Canadians seemed to take terrible stories and tragedies in stride, and as we ran we said things in vaguely Canadian accents like, "Did you hear about the three Americans out for a hike, eh? It was raining, you know, and then they were attacked by a bear, eh? And the bear got one of them as the other two ran, but then, eh? there was an avalanche that hit them both, you know, and only one was able to get up and keep going, eh? But just as he got to the car, you know, he was struck by lightning, eh?" Other Canadian, "Yeah." We made it back, a little damp and laughing at our apparent lack of bravery.

It was still a bit of a drive to Golden, but we made it back at a reasonable time and Gerald, the owner of the hostel, got us late reservations at 1123, a good restaurant. It didn't disappoint. We tended to our photos and internet needs before and after dinner and then I went to bed around 10:30, with the top bunk unfilled. Eventually someone came in and climbed up and we slept 6 again. This night I at least had my white noise machine and had done my usual sleep hygiene routine and closed the window, as it was much cooler. Still I slept poorly, with the top bunk going up and down three times during the night, including to stop his phone from ringing right by my head at 5am.

I got up at 6 and was surprised to see Greg up then and ready to run. We went a different way (west) along the river and around the airport, where we were trapped by the train tracks, but we trespassed a bit to get across and onto another trail network that took us back. I went on for another 1.5 miles to make 6.

This was to be one of the easier travel days, with only a 20 minute drive to our activity site at Kicking Horse Mountain Resort. The big event was to be the Via Ferrata there, a course on a mountain that would be like climbing. We might also be able to see a resident grizzly bear there. Other than the usual missing signs, some of which were right there, we didn't have any problems with getting there, and we checked in. The whole deal was relatively expensive, but well worth it. First we caught the chair lift to the bear reserve and quickly joined the current tour group. I hurried right up and looked where everyone was looking and there was the bear, right under a tree by the fence! I whispered to Kathy and Greg that the bear was RIGHT THERE! Meanwhile the guide was talking loudly and so were some of the other people. Turns out the bear likes being around people. He would go into the brush and back out while eating over and over and we were so tired of seeing him by the end of the 45 minutes (and tired of scratching our bug bites) I didn't even take photos when he was walking around completely exposed as we left. I didn't listen to a word the guide said, but everyone was impressed with how passionate she was. We took the chair back down (they tried not to stop the chair, like if you were skiing, so you had to make a run for it when it leveled off at the station).

The gondola to the top took us up another double black diamond slope; this was some seriously dangerous skiing terrain. It was a long ride, but we came to the top, which had a small lodge/restaurant and some signs as well as the most breath-taking alpine scenery of the trip. The latter was past the lodge in non-skiing areas, one lovely mountain after another, with the splendor only limited by the smoke from the fires.

The Eagle Eye Restaurant was not busy and had a nice menu, including a veggie wrap (the best I've ever had) and good cheesecake. While I was eating I got a lot of intestinal grief, and that persisted right up until we were ready to go on the Via Ferrata. On one of my walks back into the lodge to use the toilet, I saw a pretty girl wearing a safety harness and asked her if she knew where the Via met. She said she did, and she was the guide for our group, of which there were only the three of us. So, great! Once my bowels were as sorted as they were going to get, we all met with Jackie, the guide, at their unlabeled hut. We got our safety briefing, signed some forms, and then went to a little course right by the lodge to practice. It was easy, and the design was very safe: we were always linked to the cables by a special carabiner type clamp that could not open and could be slid, sometimes with difficulty, over special connectors at cable junctions..

From there we walked over the ridge to the course, all of which was very intimidating, including the long swinging bridge where we would start. I am no fan of swinging bridges, but I have been on many and can always keep my feet moving. This was easily the longest and narrowest and least protected I'd ever been on, but I had not been in a harness connected to the cables of the bridge before.

I hooked in first while Jackie made sure we were all right, then she hooked in front of me and we were off down the stone steps and path to the bridge.

The bridge was not super high, but it had all the elements required to terrify otherwise.

I made my way on and it was very loose. I did not want to let go of either steel cable I was holding, but as we progressed across, Jackie said, like it had just occurred to her, that she would like us to try something. That was hooking our other safety caribiner to the cable and then hanging loosely from the bridge (we'd practiced this on the training course, but I never thought we would use it on the bridge!). I was very reluctant, but I did it, and it was ok, so I let myself hang outside the cable and sit in the harness, that was pretty pinchy on my thighs. She took several photos of us like that, and then we unhooked the second clip and walked to the end. It wasn't so bad.

From there we did various exploits, moving along cliffs where we had to swing around corners, climbing near vertical ladders and slopes up and down, with a few stops here and there. Jackie kept us going with her upbeat praise about how well we were doing and how much trouble other people had. It was super fun, but other than the swinging out to some grips and steps, it was really easy for me (Kathy likely did not feel that way about it). I joked with Jackie I was finally getting some tangible benefit from all my working out. She explained how they dealt with avalanches and how they got people off the course who freaked out. It was a great adventure; probably not as challenging overall as canyoning, which was much more dangerous and required many more tests of courage, but it was tremendously cool to be able to hang on some cliffs with that scenery.

We reached the ridge and walked up that a little ways before we unhooked. It felt so strange and unsafe to still be on that mountain without any connection to it other than the bottoms of our feet, but that went away soon enough and then we were at the top.

I was intimidated still by the height and could not make myself get on the topmost rock, but it was fun anyway and Jackie coached me on a modeling session.

Now we had to get down. I've been hiking all over the world, in all kinds of weather and terrain, and I still fret about the walk down possibly being worse than the walk up every time, but it is never very hard. It looked treacherous (Jackie had to point out the path down, as I could not see it), but it was easy and we were down the steep part in no time and moving across the ridge. We passed a group heading out for photos on the bridge on our way and then Jackie started back in on some smack about push-ups, challenging me. I am pretty confident in my abilities in that regard, and I told her it would be better for her if she just proclaimed me the winner, because there was no way she could beat me. I think she thought she might tire me out on the last steep part before the lodge and their hut (it was not easy). She got distracted then and I reminded her, and then she was eager to go. I started pumping out smooth all the way up and down push-ups and was at thirty fast, and I recall Greg saying, "I don't think you'll need to do more than 10," when I was at 22. I feel guilty now as Jackie is a pianist and has chronic wrist problems, but I don't think our little challenge made her any worse. It was hard to leave the top; I was still in my full adventure glow, and Jackie made it even better.

We caught the gondola down and saw Boo, the grizzly, again, right out in the open (Greg said there was no chance we'd see him). He was standing right near a bunch of people at the closest end of the enclosure. Then we rewarded ourselves with smoothies at the bottom while on another set of red adirondack chairs.

That night we dined at a restaurant called the Island, which was on an island in the river just down from the pedestrian footbridge. We ate on the deck and had a nice meal there. Jackie recommended it.

Thankfully, there was only one person in the dorm room that night, and he moved around like a ninja, so I was able to get a better night's sleep. I was still awake a lot (I am a very light sleeper, but do not generally need much sleep). We packed up and checked out of the hostel after breakfast. This was potentially the hardest day; we couldn't get tickets for the shuttle to Lake O'Hara (they sold out the whole summer in 4 minutes on April 20th), so we decided to walk out there. I thought it was an 11 mile round trip, but it was 11km each way, so 7+ miles out (I'd also thought I read somewhere it was a pretty flat walk. It was not). Gerald and Abby were super helpful and let us borrow some bear spray, so we wouldn't have to pay for something we almost surely wouldn't need to use. The parking lot was moderately full, and I was hoping there would be a lot of walkers, but we were the only ones there at the time (apparently 10 others had left earlier). We got there as the 10:30 shuttle was getting ready to go, but they told us there were no slots and two people ahead of us in line anyway. The ranger was nice enough to give us a briefing; there had been sightings of a grizzly in the parking lot two days ago, and a black bear with cubs on the road in the past day. We set out up the initial hill, which I'd run up last year, and were moving quickly, which I liked.

The buses passed us and did not seem full at all, but we tried not to let it bother us. The walk was not bad; we could see the tops of several pretty mountains at times and the forest was nice. The road was decently paved and seemed to be much more up hill than flat. We took a little break about halfway for a snack and to adjust layers, as it was warming up. It got steeper near the end, and we were all glad to see some buildings, and even the same ranger who'd briefed us. She'd promised carrot cake out there; I'd hoped it was free, but it was $4 a piece. We bought some other snacks and made a lunch of it at the little shack before heading to the lake.

Lake O'Hara was on money or stamps in Canada and is considered by many to be one of the most beautiful spots in the whole country. It is certainly a very pretty alpine lake, but on this day the smoke was up high and fuzzing out the best views. We took some photos by the water and talked to some people who stayed at the lodge there every year (I think for 30 years - it was similar to a birthright for them). before setting off around the lake. It definitely has the most beautiful coast line of any of the lakes we saw. I'd hoped to hike up to Lake Osea and then catch the shuttle back, but Kathy and Greg, after hoofing hard on the way out, were in full slow down mode. I couldn't walk slow enough to be with them. When I reached the trail that split off to Osea, I had to sit and wait at least 5 minutes for them to get there. Knowing at that point there was no way we were going to make it out to Osea, I changed the plan to a walk around the lake, which was certainly a great and much easier option. We got to the waterfall at the far end and took a new trail up there. As I got to the top, there were two photographers with some serious equipment taking photos, with one of them out on the rocks right below the falls. They never said anything to me as I passed and went to the very top (I said hello to them), which was not much farther. Greg and Kathy got them to talk a little before they left. We sat there for a while, then headed down and finished the rest of the loop. all of which was great.

We finished the loop right around 2:15 and decided to try to get on the 2:30 shuttle bus. The girl we bought the cake from said there were only 33 seats on the bus, and already there were a number of people about. I had to go in to talk to her as I'd dropped a map the owners of the Dreamcatchers had lent me into the lake when I took my camera out for the first photos there. They had new maps for $5 at the shop. When the bus pulled in, I got in quickly and took a seat near the front in case they kicked me out. Greg and Kathy sat farther back and we waited while it filled up and then there were people fussing about seats. Finally someone came in and said there was a second bus! Hallelujah!! We were good to go, didn't have to leave the bus, and we agreed it was the best $10Canadian we ever spent(!). That bus ride was even long - it took at least 20 minutes, but the young man who sat next to me was a biology major from F&M who was doing research on the water in various lakes, so we had a nice chat. Greg kept track of our walking on his GPS watch and we'd climbed 1400 feet on the way in over the 7+ miles. Not super steep, but far from the rolling hills I'd expected.

Now, we had some extra time! I thought we'd get some things done we were going to do the next day, so then we would have more time for hiking that day. We stopped first at the spiral railroad site and were lucky to see a super long train going through it. Then we went down to the Natural Bridge, which was flowing nicely, though some douchebag walked right out on it. We were done for the day! Now back to our new hotel.

The Natural Bridge, on the road to Emerald Lake.

The new hotel was the Days Inn Golden, which was up on the hill above the town. I thought we were sharing a bedroom, but I'd booked a suite with separate rooms! I was so happy to be able to sleep alone! Then they had a pool, hot tub, and sauna as well as ....a waterslide! We got changed quickly and Kathy and I made it first. There were two teenage boys there, but they left soon after we arrived, and I got in the pool via the waterslide after having a little trouble finding the stairs. It was great - very dark, a full circle and a good launch into the pool. After a few runs, I got in the hot tub with Kathy and put the jets on my feet, which were sore. Greg got there in a bit, and at some point Kathy went down the slide and then I did a few more times before heading back to change.

The desk clerk had recommended the Cedar House Restaurant, so we drove over there. It was just south of town, near where I'd run that morning trying to find Reflection Lake (I did. Meh.). The smoke was bad that night, so the view wasn't good, but everything else was off the charts great. The waiter was super nice (Ryan), and the owner came out and talked to us a bunch as well (it was not crowded - Tuesday night). I got a delicious beet salad with goat cheese and Kathy and Greg shared an awesome baked brie with fruit. Then our main courses arrived: mine was one of the best meals I've eaten: big chunks of pork belly (the top layer was just a little too crispy) in an awesome wild mushroom risotto that was unbelievably flavorful. I was in ecstasy. Then we got dessert: mine was a lemon curd pastry which was excellent, but I probably could have gotten something better. I was already thinking we should come back the next night, which would be our last in Golden.

We adjourned to our separate rooms, and even though I was a bit tired, I tried to catch up on my photo and video loading and to send some emails and post some stuff on Facebook. It took forever, and I finally gave up on the internet connection, which was terrible - almost useless. I slept well for me, and was ready for a big day.

On our drive back from the restaurant I'd noticed there was a path into town along the highway that was protected from the road, but it went down a big hill. I ran down that (the hill was 3/4 of a mile long) and ran back on the trails Greg and I had run. It was a nice run, and the hill up was a good test, though I took it slow. The hotel had a crowded but decent breakfast, where I was reunited with one of my former dietary staples: Kellogg's Raisin Bran.

That day, Wednesday, we were going to see the other nice parts of Yoho National Park. First up was Wapta Falls, which Gerald recommended and which I had not done last year. It had a very rough access road, but then the walking path was quite nice, very runnable, except for a lot of trees fallen across it at different heights (Watch!). Greg took off and left Kathy and me behind, and then we arrived at the overlook at the top. It was a lovely falls, with an unusual rock pile/hill right after it and in the way. There were multiple other viewing places as you followed the trail down. We did not go all the way down, but far enough. It didn't take long to get back to the Durango.

The next stop was the Emerald Lake area. I wanted to get there early enough to hike and then eat lunch. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea; the parking lot was jammed and we had to park on the side of the exit road a ways out. The smoke was very prominent early but cleared up some during our time there. It made for two really neat photos I took early on where the sky and lake blend into one fuzzy mass with canoes in it. We walked around Emerald Lake, pausing for photos now and then, and as we were heading down the other side, Greg went into the woods on a narrow path and said it was a pretty spot. We called it Greg's Spot, and we took photos there. As we were leaving, a couple with a baby walked by and Greg recommended the spot to them, and they went in. Soon, I found a similar nice spot on the shoreline and named it after me and posed for photos there. We never really nailed down a spot for Kathy; she didn't seem to care (What is up with that!?). It was a much better hike than I'd had around the lake last year, as there was almost no mud, compared to almost wall to wall deep mud a year ago.

We finished walking in time for a late lunch. There were seats on the deck at the nicer restaurant there and the food was very good, but the really memorable thing was the loud conversation from the table behind me. There was a woman there who went on and on about her contact lenses, interrupted only occasionally by a Frenchman who would ask her about LASIK and another old guy who apparently had some eye trouble as well. I am not kidding when I say it went on over 30 minutes as the topic of their conversation.

The next stop was the Yoho Valley, site of my longest hike last year. It was much more crowded than last year as well, but we found a parking spot. I'd forgotten the walk to Takkakaw Falls was a bit of a ways, and that misrepresentation was met with many complaints, but it is beautiful and quite awesome, one of Canada's highest falls. After photos there, we set out on our last hike of the day, up the valley of the Yoho River, pretty flat except for one good hill near turnaround. It was beautiful. I had walked it in off and on rain the year before, but this day was really nice, and they'd made a few nice changes to the trail. I kept marveling at it; it was so relaxing and pleasant to walk on the trail in those woods. It is a 5 mile round trip to Laughing Falls, a nice waterfall off the trail, and that spot also has some great scenery on the river. We turned around there and headed back.

The walk back was just as nice and with less of a hill. At one point Kathy was yelling in a hushed manner behind us, and when we turned around there was an elk on the path just behind Kathy. We walked towards it and got close enough for some good photos as it seemed mostly concerned with the guy coming down the trail behind us. My last goal for the hike was a shot down the valley with the falls on the left and the rest of the nice scenery all included in the later afternoon light.

It was getting late, and we still had to drive back, get something to eat, and pack. We decided it would be quickest and best to go back to the Cedar House again, and it was all really good again. It was still all a bit much, but we managed to do it all with only a bit of arguing with Greg about why a person who had a cold, was not sleeping well but still getting up early to run every day, was doing all the driving and knew he had about 6 hours of driving ahead of him the next day, might be a little annoyed at delays at this point, though he hadn't said anything or complained at all. Still, I was happy to get to bed in my own room and didn't even try to deal with the terrible internet at the hotel that had kept me up the night before.

I slept fitfully and was lucky to wake up at exactly the time I wanted to as my alarm didn't go off. I rushed out to run 6 miles on the roads near the hotel, which weren't bad, though the traffic passed by at high speed. There was a deer in the area between the highway and the path down the hill on my way back; I didn't see a body anywhere, so I hope she got away. We left just a few minutes after I wanted and headed back to the hostel to drop off the bear spray they let us borrow. From there we headed back through Yoho for the third straight day, only this time we never stopped. Just before Lake Louise we turned north onto the Icefield Parkway, and I made the command decision to visit the first stop at Lake Herbert. There weren't many people there, but there should have been, as it was very peaceful and calm, and the water still enough to have a good reflection of the mountains and trees surrounding it.

From there we continued on, stopping at Hector Lake, which we weren't near, and Bow Lake, both of which were spectacularly beautiful. The entire Icefield Parkway is spectacularly beautiful; it is all right there for you: waterfalls, rivers, lakes, mountains, glaciers, forests, and even some animals. We stopped at most of the places on our way before lunch, but eventually we had to edit a few off the list; it was taking too long. I was also a little worried, as there was only one place for gas on the road and it was taking a long time for us to get there and we were at a quarter tank.

We finally reached Saskatchewan Crossing, the main stopping point for fuel and food. I dropped Kathy and Greg off to go get a table and queued for gas. I had to wait behind one car, and then pulled up. A pretty girl with an Australian accent pumped the gas and then wrote down the amount I owed on a scrap of paper - they didn't have the technology to have the amounts transmitted to the pay booth by another way. She said I could use the other, non-driver side of the pay booth to pay. I said, half-joking, "It is ok if I get out of my car there, right?' She laughed, then I said, "You Canadians have all sorts of rules. I want to make sure I don't get in trouble." She said, "I'm not Canadian." Then I said, "You came all the way from Australia to Canada to pump gas." With perfect timing, she said, "Yep, living the dream." I pulled up and paid, then parked and went inside. It wasn't crowded, and Kathy and Greg were just finishing their order. The place needed some explaining: some of the menu items you cooked yourself on a little grill in the corner. I wanted no part of that, so I got a bowl of soup and a salmon salad sandwich, which was huge. Everything was good enough, and we got to use the bathroom before we headed off.

We came quickly to a line of cars on both sides of the road. I joked with Kathy it was like when we came upon one of the Big Five in South Africa, but there was no way all those cars would be parked for any of the animals around here, as no one would be out of their cars to look at bears. I was very wrong. We pulled off into a recently vacated spot, and we could see a black bear in the bushes just off the road. Greg jumped out and ran across the street and took some photos and a video (he screwed that up, alas).  We then set off, only to come to another set of cars not that much farther. This time they were looking up to the right. Greg jumped out again - we called him the Greg-bot - and spotted the object of their attention: a grizzly bear walking near the top of the steep hill. Kathy could just see him as we went by, but I did not. We bypassed several things we planned to do the next day because the weather was turning bad, most importantly the Icefield Centre, the Columbia Icefield and Athabasca Falls.

I started getting sleepy, so we decided to stop at the Sun Wapta Falls, and I thought Greg and Kathy would go out while I rested my eyes and maybe took a nap. As we stopped, it started to rain some, but Kathy was determined to go out. Greg decided not to go, and by then, I was back to wide awake and didn't want Kathy out there in the rain by herself so I went out and caught up with her. Sun Wapta Falls are ok, but not worth getting wet over. The best part was the gorge it formed, but otherwise it served only to take any notion of a nap away and fueled me the rest of the day.

The gorge after Sun Wapta Falls. It takes a 90 degree turn to the left.

We only stopped twice the rest of the way to Jasper. One was when Greg thought he saw an elk lying down on the right side of the road. We turned around and I thought I saw it, too, but it was just a tree trunk that had an elk-neck-angle to it. The second was at a place called Goats and Glaciers, where there was supposed to be a salt lick where mountain goats came. There were no goats and barely any glaciers there!

We pulled into Jasper and decided to go check in at our hotel first. It was Pyramid Lake Hotel, located on the shores of Pyramid Lake just north of town. It did not take long to get there, and check in was fast. It was a pretty spot. If you do go to Jasper, it would be a nice place to spend a few days, as the lake is very pretty and large enough to explore well with a kayak or canoe for several hours. It also has a lot of trails for hiking/biking/running. The room was very nice. We decided to head to town and try to get tickets to that evening's showing of the the night sky at one of the hotels. Jasper and the national park are dark sky preserves - figures the only night we were there it rained and was very cloudy - and we were hoping to see something worthwhile. It was a bit of a walk to the Marmot Hotel to make the booking for the night sky show, and they were very inefficient at booking it, so I had time to do several sets of pull-ups on the bars right by the main road there (I got 12 good ones the first set despite wearing a jacket and not emptying any of my pockets ;-). From there we walked back to town to eat, but the restaurant we hoped for was closed for a private event, so we ate at the one next to it after wandering about a bit. It wasn't bad (it had an excellent vegetable lasagna that was very different - the veggies were pureed, and I also got Bison poutine), except the bathroom had the world's stickiest floor - my shoes almost came off. After dinner, we got ice cream at a nearby place and ate it on a big bench right in front of the store. Jasper is nice, but Banff is way better. It is not very scenic in town - there are trains blocking any view of the river. We went back to the hotel and I tried to catch up on my journal and was again frustrated by the terrible internet there.

We were part of a small group for the planetarium show, which was in a tent that must have been inflated to form the arched ceiling, as they let us in only a few at a time and zipped the door closed after. The show was about the dark skies preserve and then the typical night sky, but it dwelt too much on things like constellations (we discussed the bogosity of this later), and I was soon asleep. The end was good, though I cannot remember much other than I enjoyed it. We headed back and Greg was determined to go out and see if he could see much of the night sky, but it was too cloudy (He got up several times and only woke me up one of them). I slept great there!

I woke up at 6:30 and went out for a run - there was a light drizzle at first, but then it was nice, and the trails were great for running, mostly dirt, pine needles or wood chips (the best). Even better, they followed the roads, so they felt safe. I did turn onto one that went away from the road and it opened up onto a fantastic meadow that looked like something I could run for days, but I had to turn around. Still it was enjoyable, and I again cracked 6 miles. We didn't eat at the hotel - I passed on their $14 bowl of cereal, though it sounded good - and went to a bakery we'd eyed the day before. It was jammed, with a long line. Kathy and I waited while Greg went out and did things(?) and we finally ordered and I got a lot of stuff. I joked I was ordering for 5 people, and all 5 were me, and I told the girl who waited on me she was going to need a bigger bag to put my stuff in. I got an egg salad sandwich and big fruit and bran muffin to eat there, then a veggie and egg sandwich, cream cheese brownies, a date bar with granola (it was the best!) and a piece of chocolate pecan cheesecake to eat later as a picnic, with a premade fruit smoothie to drink. Greg, despite having thirty minutes to wander around, still wanted to stop at a pharmacy, which was the wrong way down a one way street (and only a block from the bakery), which was under construction and had no parking, but 25 minutes later we were on our way out of Jasper and back down the Icefield Parkway.

We deployed the Greg-bot for another bear and we all could see some elk just off the road on the way, and we were soon at Athabasca Falls. For some reason Greg didn't want to go, but it was fantastic! The falls are not that big, but they have created some false passages in the rock and a very pretty gorge after. But the best part was the signs! They were written with such drama about how dangerous the falls were and how the water and the rock were at war. Kathy and I couldn't stop laughing at them.

Next we stopped at Goats and Glaciers again. The weather was better, so our hopes were high. They were again dashed. I was riffing hilariously on the lack of goats while we wandered around without Greg, who again did not get out of the car. The next stop was a ways, and it was the Icefield Centre. I thought there would be exhibits about glaciers and something like a museum, but instead there were... ASIANS! Hundreds of Asian tourists, creating a ceaseless din and making any movement difficult. We wandered through the building and into a large souvenir store. It was a tourist trap! We got in line at the information desk and asked if there were educational exhibits and found out the basement was where it was at. We went down the stairs and looked at historic photos of how things gradually developed over the decades to the point where vast parking lots would be filled and people crawling over each other there. Then there was a movie billed as showing the relationship between people and the glaciers there. We went to sit in the half-full theater ready to be educated.

In front of us was an exuberant Asian woman who was recording even the commercials before the movie with her phone. It finally started, and it was a running joke the rest of the trip. There was no dialogue, no information exchanged. It showed kids playing out in the fields on their own, unsupervised, and then an old man walking around with a stick. They cut back and forth and then there was a young man skiing on the glaciers and dropping a black rock with white markings one of the children had found into a crevasse. At the end, the old man found the rock at the bottom of the glacier! The rock had come full circle! I couldn't believe this was approved and funded. Canada!!

From there we drove across the road to the parking lot to view the Athabasca Glacier. It was pretty full, but we found a decent parking spot and walked out there. It was a tougher walk than it looked (6000ft elevation), but well worth it. Along the way there were many signs warning of dangers, including a boy who'd left the trail and fell into a crevasse and was dead by the time they found him. Not the literary masterpieces of Athabasca Falls, but still...The face of the glacier was nice, and we could see the headwaters of the dangerous Athabasca River there. It was possible to go out on the glacier higher up, but I've been on plenty of glaciers at this point and it looked like a big hassle. The Columbia Icefield, of which the Athabasca Glacier is a part, is massive, and it runs off into rivers that eventually reach the Pacific, Arctic, and Atlantic Oceans.

We then looked for a place to have a picnic. I blew right past the weeping wall, which might have been nice, and we finally stopped at a campground and ate the stuff we bought in the morning. It was good enough, especially the icing on the cheesecake, and then we were off again. We were making great time, and I thought we might be able to get some things done in the Lake Louise area in the late afternoon we were otherwise going to have to get up early for the next morning from Banff. First, after getting off the Icefields Parkway, we went to Moraine Lake, which is usually super crowded. We were able to drive right in, slowed only by a big bus that could barely make some of the turns. It was a nice day there and I got a few photos. I had been there last year and it looked about the same. Greg and I watched the tourists trying to walk across the logs and tried not to laugh too hard when they slipped and fell or got their feet wet. Then we got some snacks at the little restaurant there that were good, and Kathy and Greg harassed a chipmunk. I thought it was late enough now the crowd might have thinned at Lake Louise, and it had. We got a decent parking spot and walked down, taking in all the people on the shore near the hotel and then walking the main path to the other side of the lake and into the valley a short ways, seeing some rock climbers en route. The walk back we were hassled by the bugs and we were happy to be done there.

The Juniper Hotel was right off the main road outside Banff, and it was another nice room, with a balcony and a view. We dropped off our stuff, reorganized, and went to a Greek restaurant that was very popular. We walked around a little before and after in town. After eating, we stopped at ice cream and chocolate shops and got enough for the trip the next day. It was a jam-packed day!

Our last morning I was up early for a run into Banff. I had to cross the highway on an overpass and open and close wildlife gates there before getting on the very nice trail and running path system of the town. I went all the way to the waterfalls along the river, which had some of the nicest alpine waterside views of any stream we'd been near, but right in town. On the way back I went into the woods and ran some of those trails. Funny, but I turned around on one right before a bridge, and then took another one that ended on the other side of that same bridge. I also got a little spooked when I found a huge depression in the grass along one part of the trail made by a large animal. We went into town for breakfast, which was really nice, and then back to check out. The rest of the day was killing time shopping and wandering about. We ate some soup at a pub while watching the end of that day's Open Championship round, then went for pizza. There is a really nice museum near the river that is a definite highlight. Kathy and I walked to the falls and back while Greg stayed in the park by the river, where they ended up having a wedding.  We ate dinner at a cajun place, early, and I have to admit the etouffe was too spicy for me, though it was still delicious.

It was time to head back, and we got the car out of the parking garage. We'd found a $50 ticket on it earlier, just after I noticed a 2 hour limit sign on the wall near our spot. I was pretty steamed.  We drove back to Calgary and filled the tank, then found the rental car place, and it was a completely different level of annoying and bad. This time it was far beyond Purgatory and into the 3rd or 4th level of Hell. There was no good place to leave the car, everyone was upset and arguing, and it took 20 minutes for them to even start taking back our vehicle. I had to crap something fierce and had to keep holding it, then got to go while the guy who appeared to be in charge was processing my payment for the parking ticket. The toilet would not flush after; I did everything I could, but it was BAD. I told the guy the toilet wasn't working and then left to get on the shuttle. The whole experience there left me ashamed. Never again, ACE rental cars! We got to the airport and I was stressed about checking in at the right place and wanted to make sure I was there, running off before saying good-bye, thinking there would be time after the check in, but the Wrights chased me and we said our farewells before I checked in, at the correct place. It was a long evening and finally I was off on the first of two flights, taking off after midnight, hardly sleeping, then having a long layover in Toronto before a short flight to Philly and an uneventful drive back.

SUMMARY: The Canadian Rockies are a must-see destination for any capable traveler, a world highlight. The Via Ferrata at Kicking Horse is the best thing going (I found a brochure for canyoning as well), but there are plenty of other things to do beyond the great hiking and awesome scenery. I managed to run over 6 miles every day we were there, and that made it even nicer. If you go to Jasper, plan on being there longer, as there is a lot to do in the area and Pyramid Lake is a good starting point.

My Arctic Adventure: Oslo, Svalbard, and the Plancius

It is always easiest, especially when you kept a daily journal, to start at the beginning of the trip and write a chronology. That may yet happen, but let's see if we can at least get some info to you without dates and times.. Maybe some planning and prep first, though: packing. I got a box jammed with diving gear during the week prior to leaving and had to pack that: dry suit, neoprene head cover, fleece-ish foot covers, cream colored glove liners, blue rubber gloves, shoes (?, turns out you put those in the flippers), and full body fleece garment. So, I was packing to snorkel (I have my own snorkel, thanks to Greg Wright), spend a few days in temperate Oslo, then also colder Longyearbyen, on Svalbard, and then to be on a cruise for 8 days, and then also go right from the airport to the Finger Lakes for a family vacation. I managed to jam my checked bag with stuff and be 6 pounds under weight, and took a jammed camelbak and then my laptop in its case.

Glossary/Geography Primer

Spitsbergen: This is the Dutch name for the largest island in Svalbard, an archipelago in the arctic between Norway and the North Pole.

Svalbard: the entire archipelago. population 2600 or so. from latitude 74 to 81 degrees latitude. It is an unincorporated area, administered by Norway, but actually an international territory where anyone with a passport is welcome to come and work/live. Currency is the Norwegian Krone (about 8.45/dollar). Inhabited by humans off and on since the 1600s, more regularly since coal was discovered (basically falling out of the ground) in the 1800s. The current administrative arrangement started in 1946, and most of Svalbard was made into parks and protected areas. Any evidence of human existence predating 1946 (even metal cans) anywhere on Svalbard is protected as cultural artifacts (don't touch that rusty can! I'm not telling you again!).

Longyearbyen: the largest town and administrative center of Svalbard, home to the main port, airport, and satellite stations. It is named after an American coal baron (Longyear) who bought the coal extraction operation from the regional company in the early 1900s and was soon beset with labor strife from his profit-maximizing business practices. The American way - exploit the workers and get things named after you.

Trip Data/Factoids:

MODES OF TRAVEL: On my trip from Oslo to the Finger Lakes, I started out on foot, walking to the train station from my hotel, then took a fast train to the airport. I flew to Newark (8 hours), had to take a monorail to the hotel shuttle pick up, took a shuttle to my car, and then drove slightly over 5 hours to our cottage. I never felt tired, though I dozed a few minutes on the plane.

WHAT TIME IS IT?: I am pretty sure it never got dark on the flight over, so I didn't experience night/darkness from June 17th until the first night back in the US on July 1. It didn't bother me at all, but I occasionally found myself contemplating what I was going to do with my evening when it was 10:30pm or later. I would just go to bed as quickly as I could once that dawned on me. It would be very easy to overdo it at that latitude in the summer.

RUNNING: I ran every day I wasn't on the boat, including in the afternoon the day we returned to Longyearbyen (the 29th). The best run was along the Oslo waterfront, then up to the Vigeland Sculpture Park, across to the Bislett Stadium, where I ran two laps on the famous track, site of many world record setting performances, then wound my way back to the hotel. Most of the runs were about 6 miles. I ran the morning I left PA and the next day after I'd arrived in Oslo, and the morning I left Oslo (a really good run).

Wildlife (non-bird) spotted on the trip (spoiler alert): 3 Polar Bears, 12 or so Walruses, 10-12 seals (I thought I would see many more of them), 2 blue whales (first time), 2 Minke Whales (I thought they were seals), 30+ reindeer (I almost collided with one running the second morning in Longyearbyen). People I was with claimed they saw an arctic fox running around on some distant cliffs, but I never spotted it.

Books read in the two weeks (4): I finished Eileen, by Ottessa Moshfegh (good, but strange), Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance (meh), Climate of Hope by Michael Bloomberg and Carl Pope (an excellent survey of the issues of climate change and how to tackle lots of them locally), and Lincoln in the Bardo by George Sanders (a masterpiece, but also strange), which I mostly read on the plane from Oslo.

Museums visited: Munch Museum and Natural History Museum, Oslo (had a great exhibit on Svalbard), and the Svalbard Museum (interesting) and North Pole Expedition Museum (way too detailed) in Longyearbyen.

Notes: Oslo is quite expensive. The average dessert at restaurants was over $10 and small, and I usually spent between $40 and $50 for my evening meal. Longyearbyen was a bit better.

Hotels: I stayed on the cheap. Citybox Oslo was a basic place with quiet rooms, good beds, but not much furniture. Suited me as I was not there to stay in a room all day. In Longyearbyen I stayed first at the Gjestehuset 102, which was slightly more than a dorm with shared bathrooms and the luxury of a sink in the room. Not quiet. When I got back I spent one night in the Coal Miner's Cabins, even barer bones, with no room sink, no desk. Both places had EXCELLENT breakfasts.

Somewhat funny story #1: Whenever I traveled to New Zealand, my golf shoes always got great scrutiny and almost always were cleaned by immigration and customs agents at the airport even after I'd spent hours trying to get any dirt or organic matter off them. As I read about this trip, they said I would need my boots cleaned before and after going anywhere in the arctic. I took my hiking boots and scrubbed and picked at them, finally satisfied after 90 minutes of intense concentration. Once I got there, no one ever looked at my hiking boots. What they did care about were the rubber boots, given to me on the boat, I used every time we went ashore from the boat; we had to step into disinfectant before and after each trip. I was never sure, as someone familiar with aseptic technique, whether we were supposed to scrub the boots before or after we disinfected them, and neither was anyone else, as people were always doing it both ways, which surely wasn't that effective in the end.

Now, the chronology. There really isn't any other way to do this trip correctly, as the context of everything is important, and I did a lot of stuff.

Day 1, Saturday June 17th:

Saw a black bear cub that almost ran onto I-80 near the Hickory Run exit. I took that as a good harbinger on a trip I wanted to see bears. Otherwise the trip to Newark was interesting only as the hotel I contracted to park my car at was hard to find, on a feeder road off the last exit before some toll. I watched "Get Out!" on the plane and was only able to sleep a little as the tiny woman next to me kept bumping me with her arms.

Day 2, Sunday, June 18th, Oslo.

Other than not having many agents at the passport control station, the arrival of the plane was uneventful and the airport easy to maneuver in. I found the Flytoget, the airport express train to the city, and paid with a credit card at the turnstile right after getting 3000 krone from an ATM around the corner. I was able to send emails while on the train and announced my arrival, and then had no trouble finding my hotel a short walk away from the station. My room was ready even though it was only a little after 9am, so I checked in, unpacked a little and then rested a bit, trying to elevate my feet before I ran.

I ran just after noon, following the walkways around the waterfront to the south and west, occasionally dealing with more people than I wanted, but it was eventually very pretty and relaxing, covering about 6.5 miles (I screwed up the timing/GPS picking through the crowds). I cleaned up and went downstairs to the restaurant on the street level of the hotel. I got a veggie pizza, which turned out to be huge, and managed to eat it all (I was skeptical at first) before going on a 2 hour walk around the city and harbor, starting with the Opera House/Ballet.

The weather was nice, about 70, nice breeze, and sunny. I liked the look of the square in the last of the photos, so I went back there to eat around 7pm. It was a nice enough restaurant, and the waitress spoke perfect English. I finally asked her about that, and she was from Vancouver and wanted to stay in Oslo as she'd met a guy she quite liked. The meal was good but expensive. That was pretty much all my human contact for the day and I was in bed by 10pm.

Day 3, June 19th, Monday.

Monday was my only full day in Oslo the whole trip, so I had to get a lot done. I had an enjoyable run that included the Vigeland Sculpture Park and Bislett Stadium (a photo I got off the internet), though with almost no people at either place while I was there. Almost every part of the city was well-maintained and pretty. There were lots of cyclists on the bike paths, but riding very seriously and fast, not like the old bike cruisers in the Netherlands.

After a breakfast of yogurt and granola (with honey) with a smoothie, I headed out to find the walkway along the Akerselva River, which would take me part of the way to the Munch Museum.

It was a very pleasant walkway (though it is hardly a river - small stream more like it), and I hated leaving it in order to head over to the museum, which was on the far side of the Botanical Garden. I found my way into the garden and walked through it. There weren't many blooming bushes or blazing flowers, but it was quiet and nice. The Munch Museum is a disappointing structure, but the art inside was really nice. It started with a movie during which I fell asleep (only at the end; I was woken up by everyone getting up and leaving). There was a special exhibit with some philosopher's quotes in each section. It didn't take me long to get through it. In fact, it was so fast I want back to the beginning to make sure I wasn't missing anything (I had, but not much). SFS#2: I neglected to pick up a guide, and there was absolutely no information near any of the paintings. I grabbed one the second time through and all it had was the names of the paintings, which were almost what I would have called them, like "Fallen Tree" and "Shady Spot in the Woods." So, not helpful.

My return to the Botanical Garden found some herb gardens and aromatic flowers on the way to the National Museum of Natural History, which was right there. It was so low key it almost felt like I had gotten in by mistake because no one thought it would be interesting. It was, though. Nice fossils, gems, crystals, and on the second floor a great exhibit on my destination of Svalbard. From there I returned to the river path and to a Thai restaurant I noticed on the way. It was a little after the usual lunch hour and uncrowded, and the food was good (green curry with tofu and a ginger beer). My next goal was to cross town and find the National Gallery, which I assumed would be an art museum. There was no direct way, so I meandered through the curvy streets thinking I was heading the general direction. The streets got narrower and narrower until they were like alleys, and I came to a T with a park in front of me. I could go to the left (which seemed like the correct way), to the right, or through the park. I went into the park. SFS#3: As my eyes adjusted to the shade, I was ecstatic as I saw a monkey bar with special pull up grips. Even though my stomach was full from lunch, I put some of my stuff down and ripped off a quick set of 12 pull-ups. As I recovered, I looked around and saw more bars, including what looked like dip bars and more pull-up bars in the upper part of the park not far away. I walked over and did a set of dips and then turned to do some pull-ups, but there was a short, chubby guy, who looked like he might be Indian, hanging on the bar. He had a really ugly striped sweater on. I tried not to laugh as I walked over to yet another set of bars that wasn't as nice to do the next pull-up set, then headed back to the dips, where the Indian now joined me! We spoke briefly and determined to do them together, but not facing each other, which would be too silly. I could hear him grunting and he didn't last long. I finally got to use the good pull-up bars and did a 3rd set of dips before heading on. I hope I inspired him to keep up with things and imagine I made them look easy enough for him to give them a go.

My elation of again doing pull-ups outside in a foreign capital city overcame my sense of direction and I headed out of the park to the right, still on narrow streets. As I strode along, pretty sure I should be at the museum by now, I noticed a large cemetery on my left. I kept walking and then thought, that place is so big, it should be on my map. I looked where I thought I was and no cemetery was there. I put the map back and pressed on, but after another few minutes, I came to the end of the cemetery and there was still nothing like an art museum around. I looked at the map again, and the giant cemetery revealed itself in just the opposite direction I'd meant to go. I was very close to the Bislett Stadium again, at least a mile northeast of the museums. I picked my way back and tried to follow the signs, which were vaguely helpful, and the amount of road construction was staggering. I found the building but could not get anywhere near what looked like an entrance to a major museum because of construction barriers, so I kept walking around the very large complex until I had gone 3/4 of the way around. There was an entrance! It was locked! SFS#4: The National Galleries are closed on Mondays! Another American arrived at the same time and told me I should take a ferry to the three maritime museums across the harbor, but I didn't feel like doing that. My feet were pretty sore and museumed out.

To my right was a big building with gardens: the Royal Palace. I decided to walk around there instead. It is the only national palace or leader's home that has grounds open to the public in Europe. The gardens had several ponds and there were a bunch of women sunbathing as I crested the hill above them. They instinctively (I presume) put on their clothes and got ready to leave as I got close enough to see they were wearing bikinis. The palace had guards standing at stations who occasionally did showy marches around. Otherwise it wasn't very exciting except as yet another nice green space in the city.

After leaving the grounds I tried to find a new way back but ended up at the waterfront with the rush hour crowd. It still was neat walking around and I saw a lot of the same places I did Sunday. After a brief respite, I walked out of the hotel to eat and was promptly pelted with a cold rain that showed no signs of letting up. Rather than go back and get a jacket, I soldiered on, thinking there was a restaurant just down the block, but it was all retail there. I kept walking briskly, getting wetter, going down more and more disappointing blocks until I found one of the main drags, but every place there was a chain like TGIFridays. I wasn't going to settle, and kept pressing around, but then caved and settled for what looked like a Japanese restaurant. They had a bunch of loud parties and I almost went back out into the rain to try somewhere else when they finally seated me. I almost got a nice vegetarian meal, but then I noticed they had a grilled duck with pancakes, a meal I'd had with the Wakelys in Bermuda that was really good. It was good here as well, as was their excellent and very accomplished mango pudding which came with a separate no alcohol mojito, a dish of cut apples, a specially treated small piece of mango on a small spoon (good), and some delicious ice cream. I was pretty pleased when I went back out into only a light drizzle for the fairly long walk back - I'd covered a lot of ground in the rain! And there was a perfectly fine Asian restaurant about 60 yards from the hotel in a different direction I saw to my chagrin on my walk back!

I repacked and got everything set so I could get up and run in the morning before heading to airport at 7:30 for my flight to Longyearbyen.

Day 4, Tuesday, June 20th:

I got up before 5am and ran out the Akerselva path and was surprised to find several decent sized waterfalls along it. I only went up it a mile or so and it was really a neat thing to have right near the center of a big city (only ran 4.3 miles or so total that day). Hardly anyone was around at that hour (6am). I rushed into the downstairs restaurant at 7 and found a long line of Chinese/Asian tourists all ordering at the same time at top volume with the clerk at the counter yelling at them to only speak one at a time. No way I was dealing with that, so I went back up and got my stuff, ate an energy bar, and left for the airport. I would eat there after getting through security.

The train was easy, but my passport wouldn't scan at the automated check-in (I think it is the apostrophe), so I had to wait 30 minutes in line while only one person checked in people with problems. Finally I zipped through security with my shoes on and could get some food. I went into the first food store I found and paid $15 for a yogurt and smoothie. SFS#5: right next door to that food stand was a grocery store (!) that sold just as good yogurt and smoothies for less than half the price. Norway! I ended up sitting near the front of the plane in an upper class seat - no wonder the ticket was so expensive - which also got me a bonus cheese wrap (a thin, nearly undetectable layer of cheese in a brown tortilla) on each leg of the flight and extra leg room (about two full inches). We stopped briefly in Tromso, a lovely town on the northern coast of Norway, to go through a passport check and reboard the plane for the rest of the flight. I learned the guy I was sitting with was a hiking guide from Seattle who worked for an international touring group looking to offer hiking in Svalbard. He was going on a hike as soon as he got to Longyearbyen, which got me excited. The view was great from the window seat on the journey - still loads of snow in the mountains.

The difference between Longyearbyen and Tromso was stark: just loose rock, dirt or snow everywhere in Longyearbyen. The coordinator for the diving aspect of the trip, Faith, was standing near the luggage carousel as I walked into that part of the small airport. I introduced myself just as she got a call from another client for the trip who was trapped on the east coast of the US by storms and would arrive the next day instead. Faith is always cheerful and she helped me get on the correct bus into town and paid for me. She was hosting a dinner for all the divers the next night at 7:30, which was the only thing on my schedule until our departure Thursday afternoon.

The bus dropped everyone else off before my hotel, which was the last stop, all the way up a long hill from the town, which was set in a valley criss-crossed with glacial run off streams. The hills were black, all loose rocks and dirt, with patches of snow on them. The hotel was up a little hill on the left side with a fairly high metal stairway up to the door. I left my heavy bag at the bottom, not sure where I would be staying. Turned out it was up the stairs, so I had to climb them with it after all. A Svalbard tradition is taking off your shoes and walking around inside anywhere in socks, so I did that, but kept my shoes with me, as they looked nicer than the others.

I was quite keen to get out and hike yet that day, and I looked and there were several short hike options. The clerk seemed not too enthusiastic, but she looked for me. She told me all the short hikes were cancelled that day due to lack of interest. When I pressed her to set something up for me the next day, she said she was going on her break in 30 minutes and I should look everything up online and she would schedule it when she got back. It wasn't the kind of customer service I was hoping for, but I did what she said.

She came back from her break about 20 minutes later than she said, and in the meantime I'd decided I wanted to do the hardest thing they had on the schedule, and, because she wasn't turning up, I had gotten as far into the booking that I was ready to push the "BOOK" button on their website when she walked in. She fussed about it for a while and said her computer didn't seem to be working now, so I told her I would just book it myself, and I did. She didn't tell me the offices of all the outdoor guiding companies all close between 4 and 5pm, the time she was on her break. I was a little unsure things would work out; there were two more slots left on the tour, so I was pretty sure it was going. It was just a question of if they'd get the booking the next day when they opened. I had back-up plans in case.

I went out for a walk instead, all the way down the hill and through the town to the edge of the fjord. This fjord was a tiny fjord off a huge one, and it ended just past the town in a really large area of mud flats. Across the fjord were a few larger mountains; I was going to climb to the top of one of those mountains the next day.

Nearly every building in the town looked slapped together on flimsy bases (I would later find out they were built that way because the ground tended to move on top of the permafrost). There were quite a lot of boxy two and three story buildings around once I got back into town, and there were only a few patches of green moss or lichens to break up the monotony of the rocks and dirt. I reached the main road at the bottom and walked down that to another road that looped back, by the church, to the road to my hotel. I suspect I walked about 4 miles, and as I approached the junction with the other road up the hill, I was pretty sure I saw Faith standing there (she has a distinctive silhouette topped by a mess of reddish hair). I was correct. She was out for a walk with two other explorer/divers, Larry and Olga, from NYC, who were staying at the hotel Faith occupied. They were avid photographers, and Faith said sometimes reindeer would be in the area. I was incredulous and scanned all the slopes without spotting any. What would they eat here? I was, of course, wrong, and I saw quite a few reindeer in town after that, and almost always had close encounters with them as I was running (I didn't mean to, but they aren't too bright). Faith and I talked a while as we strolled and my bladder was ready to burst. I made it back without accident and one of the shared bathrooms was open for a prodigious pee. I went across the street to the Coal Miners Cabins restaurant (I would stay there when I got back), which had a limited menu without vegetarian option, but I was not going to walk down to town again (it was over a mile to the edge of town), so I got the fish and an apple crumble, all of which was good. Back to read and go to bed.

Day 5, Wednesday, June 21

I slept fitfully, as the neighbors were talking and there were lots of other noises, all of which settled after 1am. SFS#6: I got up and during my usual shuttling back and forth to the bathroom pre-run, heard a woman's voice say, "Excuse me, sir?" Realizing it was directed to me, I turned around. She motioned to me to come, and said, "Do you know this man?" I said, "I don't know anyone here." I kept walking, though, and I looked in her room, where another young woman (they both looked no older than 20) was giggling. It had four beds set up as bunk beds, and on the lower bunk, to the left, was a large, bearded man curled up in a fetal position, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, sleeping soundly on top of the blankets despite all that was going on. Somehow he'd gotten into their room during the night and fell asleep there!! He looked vaguely like a guy who'd checked in with another young woman about the time I arrived, but I wasn't sure, so I begged off and chuckled to myself as I walked down the hall. I suppose I should have rousted him out of there, but that never occurred to me at the time.

Otherwise I was a bit obsessed with pooping as much as possible before I went on my all day trip, where it would be very hard to do so. Things were not going well; it was the weirdest time ever for me to have an issue like that, which is a once-in-a-decade sort of event otherwise. It wasn't that I couldn't go; it was I didn't have to, which never happens. I ate a big breakfast after my run down the hill and around town and back, about 5 miles. I was happy to finally get some cereal, which was good, and got all ready to go.

There were two women in yellow coats waiting in the driveway to our hotel and another person by themself up a little bit. I walked over to that person; at first, I thought it was a remarkably handsome young man, but then I realized it was a woman who managed to get all her hair under her hat. I eventually asked her what she was waiting for and it was my trip, which was a relief. Even if they didn't get my booking, I could go along for sure. Carrie was an American from Texas who was now coaching women's soccer for a club team in Denmark (apparently one of the best ones). She immediately reminded me of a young Heather Wagner and I hoped we would kayak together.

The van to pick us up was about 20 minutes late. A scruffy man named Jasper got us in and drove back down the hill to pick up a few more. The two girls in the yellow, who did not look fit, were also coming along. We arrived at the headquarters, which was a larger room with some benches. We met the other guide, a very pretty German girl named Katja, and she and Jasper got us all our gear and showed us how to do everything. We would wear dry suits and skirts to kayak over and then change into our hiking clothes for the hike. Usually these all day things are billed as taking 10-11 hours and then take 7, but they said it might be as long as 12 hours(!). My only concern was getting to that dinner at 7:30, but I was sure I could be a bit late.

We walked out carrying lots of stuff to where they stored the kayaks. After a briefing, I did indeed get in Carrie's kayak, taking the rear since I have a lot of experience with sea kayaking. That didn't matter much, though, as the rudder wasn't set up right (my fault?) with too much slack in the wires, but with making constant adjustments, we made it across and had to keep slowing down to allow the others to catch up.

The kayakers assembled. Courtesy of Carrie.

After pulling the kayak on the beach, we took off the dry suits and hung them up on some racks. It took longer than it should have, and then Katja gave us a polar bear safety briefing while loading her high-powered rifle. Jasper also had a rifle. It wasn't that dangerous, but we knew what to do if anything did happen. So we set off. The ground had a little more green in it than Longyearbyen, and right away we saw a few reindeer, including a new baby. It was steadily up hill, but not that steep, with lots of rocky areas and little streams to maneuver around. Generally people kept up. I tended to stay near the front. Occasionally Katja, more so than Jasper, would stop and talk about the landscape, the history, or the flora. Eventually it came out she was a geologist, so I then peppered her with many more questions which often prompted her to stop and explain things to the rest of the group. One thing that bothered me was tromping through the mushy ground, leaving (at least for me) huge foot prints. I mentioned this to Katja and she said it was no big deal. They did the hikes fairly regularly and you could not see where other people had been most of the time, so the ground did seem to repair itself.

It got rockier and rockier, with less soil and mosses as we headed up. We weren't going that high; the highest point in all Svalbard is only about 1700meters, and this mountain, Hiortmountain, was supposedly about 1000m high. We could see one of the mine entrances on the side of a steep grade - I wouldn't have wanted to make that walk over and over again. Katja asked us as we got to a flatter area if we wanted to eat lunch then, at the top of the next section, or wait until the top? I thought I wanted to wait until the top, but it might be a lot windier. We opted for the next area and headed there. We spread out on the rocks and made our lunches, which were like MREs: little bags we poured hot water (from thermoses we carried) and mixed them up - mine was lentils and quinoa and was really good. Katja mixed up hot black currant juice, which was supposed to be high in energy, and we idled and ate cookies. It was a long break, and I took advantage and walked off to pee.

We assembled, finally ready to press on. Confronted by the steepest pitch yet, I listened as Jasper said he was going to lead a path through the snow in a switchback fashion up the steep part to the far left side, but we could get there however we wanted. I was off at a crack then, heading straight up the snow to the point he singled out. No switchbacks for me. It was hard going, as the snow was pretty deep - three feet plus in parts. I was getting winded, but nothing I couldn't handle. Still I looked to the left and there was a strip of rocks that went to the same place we were headed. Some people were following me, and kind of keeping up, so the pressure on me was building. I decided to slant to the left to the rocks, thinking they would be easier to negotiate than the deep snow. As I pressed in that direction, my left foot kept crashing deep into the snow on the downhill side of me. I was struggling with how to handle this when it went even deeper, to my hip, and I could feel my foot quickly freeze into place. To pull my foot out would pull it out of the boot, which I might not be able to get out! I dug furiously with my hand to try to loosen it, but I could see it was in blue ice and not moving. I mentioned to someone in ear shot my foot was stuck in ice, and before I knew it there was Katja, and she quickly freed me using both her hands. I sheepishly thanked her and was able to keep going to the rocks, still followed by a few people. I got to the rocks with a huge sigh of relief, but this was also no bargain. Each rock was very loose and most of them were fairly big, the size of a throw pillow or so. I had to scramble up using my hands a lot of the time and the rocks kept sliding out. The people who followed gave up and started back into the snow, connecting with Jasper (I presume). I kept going. It was really hard, something I almost never experience. I was tremendously happy to reach the top and raised myself to my full height with my chest out and breathed deeply. I looked behind and there was no one. But where were they going? They were heading for a point about 150 yards to the right of where I'd finished, completely avoiding all the tough terrain I'd ascended, and several were already there! I'd either misunderstood or Jasper's pointing was a bit off. So I quickly scampered across the rocks and stones to where the others were waiting for the last stragglers. I said, "I thought we were supposed to meet over there! That's why I went that terrible way." No one said much and Jasper just seemed to shrug. I was fine with the whole thing; it is not often my physicality is tested.

The view was nice. We'd reached a ridge that fell off on the other side and there was a small pond where the ice had melted on that side. To the left, the ridge went up to a lower peak. To the right it went up to Hiortmountain. Most of the ridge was covered in snow. It was time to summit.

The last photo is of the next stretch, but after we'd made it back down. At this point, I was gung ho, but I could sense not everyone was all that keen on pressing on, especially Katja. We set off, with me right behind Jasper, occasionally with one of the other hikers getting between us as we tried to get the best footing, either on the rocks, which were smaller than my rough patch, but still loose, or snow of depths up to 18 inches or so. We crossed a patch of mud, and as Katja, who was in the rear, walked across it, the whole bit of mud started to slide slowly down the hill. We stood watching it for a while, an area about the size of two beach towels slowly moving down. At about this point, Katja stopped and stayed with one of the yellow-jacketed girls from the Gjestehuset 102. I was oblivious; once I get to a certain level of discomfort hiking, I much prefer to stay at that level than rest. Fortunately Jasper was fit, and the two of us now went at a steady, but sustainable, pace the rest of the way, up pretty steep pitches in the deep snow to the top. An older couple hung right with us (I might have been older, for all I know, but they looked older than I am), which really impressed me. But by the end, Jasper and I had opened up a good gap, and we high-fived when we reached the rocks piled where people "summited." To me, it looked like we needed to go higher, so we did and it was a nice area of foot deep snow, soft and wet, with panoramic views. I made a few snowballs and was accurate enough to just miss the people struggling up the last bit. It is not often I feel so satisfied by an activity, but this did it. My feet were cold and wet from all the snow that got in through the tops of my boots, which are otherwise waterproof, but I knew they would warm back up on the way down. We took pictures and waited for everyone to be ready to descend.

There was a pleasant young man who was along as part of guide management training, and we went down quickly together. I learned I could take huge strides in the snow and keep my balance and, though he was fast, I was able to stay close and we talked about politics and how I felt Norway's government seemed to actually care about its peoples' lives and well-being and made that its highest priority. We found Katja and the yellow jacket girl and waited for everyone to catch up, which took a while. My feet were still cold, and I hoped we would get moving.

After we got past the next rocky section, Katja and I were in the lead. It was a snowy, steep hill, and she was moving fast down it and I was bobbing around her while doing my giant steps when she suddenly sat down and started to slide. I'd been hoping someone would do it for a while, and I followed her path and then, as she slowed and veered off, slid past her and rocketed the rest of the way down that hill. Now THAT was fun! My pants were not waterproof and my butt and underwear were wet, but it was well worth it. We stood smiling as a few others followed us on their backsides, but most continued to walk. The next pitch was where I'd climbed over the rocks after getting stuck. I tried to slide again at the top, but there were too many rocks under the snow. When I tried to get up, I hit a patch of ice and took a snow splashing fall. Undeterred, I was down again as soon as possible and kept sliding over to the rocks. I had to stop twice and run sideways to the left to find clear paths, but it was glorious fun.

The photos above were taken after I'd finished sliding. I wasn't ever ready to take videos when people were doing it.

The rest of the walk took us down a steeper and muddier way to the beach. Katja talked a lot about the geology and we had a good time (I kept whining about her taking us through all the wet mud when my feet were cold and wet. She said many of the men she guides try to act tough but then start to whine. She offered me dry socks, but I was fine), but it is not worth recounting here. We got back into our kayaks and entered a very different fjord than we'd crossed in the calm morning. There was now a heavy wind in our faces and good level of chop in the water. At least the rudder was working, but I was fascinated to find it was hard now to keep up with the other boats we'd so easily outstripped in the morning. I am a very strong kayaker, and even with little effort can keep things moving, but now I was occasionally having to gear up just to stay close to the front. Katja stayed with us while Jasper coaxed the yellow-coated girls on the way back. We got stuck in shallow water and had to be pulled in by Katja to my embarrassment, and then we set about cleaning everything up. I'd not paid much attention to my watch since we'd started walking down and assumed it was around 6, but it was already after 7! With all the gear stowed, we climbed back in the van and were driven back. I still had to get to dinner. I didn't shower - just changed a bit and walked down, getting to the restaurant a little after 8 after having trouble finding it and asking someone, who just pointed in the general direction and said, "Red!"

The table was full, but they made room for me and I was able to order the off-the-menu vegetarian meal of lentil stew. They were a lively group and many seemed to know others. I was excited to tell them about my adventure, especially the sliding on the butt, and they enjoyed it. We got our plans for the next day and I was finally able to go back to the hotel. This was one instance where I was thinking as I was walking about how now I could sit down and read for a few hours until bed time and then realizing it was already 10:30!

Day 6, Thursday June 22nd

I knew the previous night was my last internet for a while so I ended up staying up to 12:30 sending out photos and emails. I slept better and actually needed my alarm to wake up. The one guy I'd walked with had pointed out a trail along the hill parallel to the main road to the airport, so I ran almost to the end of that, which was a good 6 miles. Just as I stopped, Carrie called to me from a bunch of people waiting at the hotel. She was off on another hike. I was wearing shorts, and it was really cold and windy. She mentioned that and I told her I was fine but I would have been better off with more clothes on. My only time pressure was to check out and get my bags to Faith's hotel by 11am. I barely made it. Now I had several hours to kill.

Faith had showed me the town rec center so I walked up there (it was about a mile) to see if I could work out there (I was wearing workout clothes as part of my layers). I went inside and there were a few people in jackets looking at the message boards but no one at the reception desk and no apparent way to signal to someone I wanted to chat. The people in jackets started to leave and I asked them if there was anyone around. They said no, they'd come trying to go swimming and there had been no one in the lobby the whole time, so they were giving up. I gave up, too. From there I went to the Svalbard Museum, a very modern building near both main roads. I had to put on shoe covers, rather than take off my shoes. It is not a big place, but it had nice exhibits on mining, polar bears and wildlife, and other settlement activities and efforts. I tried to imagine what it would be like if one spent one's entire life in that ecosystem. I bought some souvenirs and left. Faith had also been there showing Alice, one of the younger divers, around.

Time was crawling, so I went in nearly every store and looked around but bought nothing. I noticed a Thai restaurant (!!) and ate lunch there and got some ice cream, trying to eat slower to take more time. I was going crazy walking around and wanted to just sit somewhere and read, but there were no benches outside I could find. I decided there would be someplace to sit at the harbor and walked over there. It was a much shorter walk than I thought, and I was amazed to find a huge cruise ship docked there. I could see our ship out in the fjord. If it was in line, it was 3rd, behind a medium sized cruise ship. I sat down on a bench near a hospitality tent for the cruisers and started to read. It was around 3pm, and our boat was to load at 4. I kept waiting for the big boat to leave, but it didn't. So around 3:45 I got up and walked around to see if something else was going on. I was about to sit back down when I saw Faith's hair on the other side of the dock from where I'd been. Thank goodness I'd gotten up, as everyone was over there while chaos apparently reigned. I gathered finally they were having to take our luggage to the ship on rubber motor boats (henceforth zodiacs), and then they would take us the same way. I was not all that keen on the plan, but it wasn't like there were options. We learned how to put on life vests, verified our luggage, and lined up for the zodiacs. I waited with some of the divers for the last boat.

It was a fun little ride out there and I did not get wet. We got on and a steward named Maya took me to my room. There was one big bag in there that wasn't mine, but no one else. I unpacked a bit and had a look around. It wasn't bad, and I had a nice view from the window.

We were called over the PA to come to the 5th floor observation lounge. They did roll calls to make sure everyone was there for the mandatory (a word used perhaps 100 times) safety briefing, talking about the life vests, the life boats (they were pretty amazing), and evacuation procedures. They let us go back (at one point I think we were all in our life preservers sitting around - we were - see below) and then return for further orientation. That lasted until the call for dinner. The divers tended to sit in a strip of tables in the middle, usually by a small Russian man who never spoke but always gave a wave when he left. I am embarrassed to say now, but Faith mentioned I could get seconds if I wanted, so I said sure, and the woman who'd showed me my room brought out another bowl of vegetarian pasta, but I could tell she wasn't all that comfortable with it, so I never asked again (that was made easier by my being unable to do any substantial exercise while on the boat). While we were waiting for dessert, they said over the PA they'd spotted the spouts of whales, so we rushed up to the viewing decks in time to watch two blue whales swim along.

I'd never seen blue whales before, so that was exciting, but they didn't do much more than swim, which is fine. We got a signal this cruise line knew what they were doing next, as they brought all the desserts up to the lounge so we could eat them there. We had a meeting about the diving, and at some point I learned the other bag in the room had been there by mistake, so I had no roommate, which was spectacular!

Here I add another feature: the official trip log's summary and comments, either copied and pasted (and maybe edited a bit) or summarized: start: 78deg, 14' N/15deg, 37'E. Temp 4C. One detail I forgot was a toast by the Captain (Alexey, Russian). Here is a photo from the safety briefing: As you look at it, I will tell you about half the boat's 100 or so passengers were from China, accompanied by only one young interpreter.

Day 7, Friday June 23rd

I put on a scopolamine patch once the boat started to move. I have only had a problem with motion sickness after brutal days of roller coaster riding, and even then it was mild, but I didn't want this trip affected by nausea. I think the patch was the cause of a rough first night, as my throat was dry and sore, with lots of post nasal drip, but I was also worried I might be getting sick. I was dead asleep when they gave us a ship wide wake up call at 7:30. I did a few warm up exercises and then went to breakfast. I didn't see any muesli, but there was some cold oatmeal and fruit and yogurt, so I was happy. I felt a lot better after I ate, especially after I started a personal tradition of chugging a glass of orange juice on arrival and putting the glass right down on the service counter where I'd picked it up, saving carrying it around.

From the restaurant we returned to the lounge for briefings on safety, caring for the ecosystem, polar bears, and maybe other things. The we practiced putting on our diving gear, which is complicated and has to be done correctly. It was then lunch time, and after eating their buffet, I tried to lie down, but they called us tell us there was a dead polar bear and some seals out on some ice. I couldn't see the bear well (I had small binoculars) but saw the seals. I adjourned again to my room, but then I could hear them drop anchor and call for the divers to be ready to depart in 15 minutes! I did as much as I could as quickly as I could and then went to the diving staging area and managed with the kind help and patience of many people to get everything on properly. And then we waited. And waited. Finally, we were in the zodiac heading out, Leslie, Teresa, Diane, Faith and me.

For whatever reason, I became aware of how congested I was. I was sure it was that patch, but I wasn't ready to give up on it yet. Still, when I put my mask on and tried to breathe through the snorkel, it was very uncomfortable with a stuffy nose, even though with the snorkel I wasn't breathing through my nose. I was still gung ho, but this was pestering me. Finally we slid into the water near some ice floes and I was able to paddle around. It felt right away like I had a leak into my neck, but that settled and we all climbed onto an ice floe and posed for pictures. This was what made the snorkeling worth it. But just as quickly we were told we had to get in the boat and head back. Apparently they'd radioed that one of the women was too cold, so we had to return, but I think it was all a mistake.

SFS#7: We now had to get back in the boat. They'd shown us a video earlier, and I was sure I'd have no problem. I was not the closest to the boat when they told us we had to go, so one of the women tried to get in with the help of the petite Australian dive assistant, Yoly. It did not go well. I am not sure if much more than her shoulders got out of the water. I said to Faith, "Would it help if I got in to pull you all up?" She thought so, so I paddled over and did what they'd showed me and popped right into the boat on my stomach. It is not that easy maneuvering in the boat with your fins on, so we struggled to get them off (because of my big shoes, they were a terror to get on and off). Once that was done, we pulled each one out with Faith pushing from below. No one stuck the landing, and almost every one was approaching hilarity, none more so than Faith, during which, and for some time after, I had an unstoppable belly laugh going. Faith took the photos of me here, with exception of one on Faith's camera taken by Yoly while we were on the ice.

Another zodiac came over and they asked if we could go on a quick cruise around, as it was very pretty. Some wanted to go right back, so we split up and I got into the zodiac that toured. After we got back to the boat, I got undressed with minimal problems and stored some of my stuff in a zodiac and others in a locker there. This was our "test dive" to work out issues. My only issue was wanting to do it much longer and to work on my breathing with the snorkel.

We had our first daily wrap up briefing, in which they discussed the events of the day and what the plans were for the next day. After dinner and some chatting, we got started on the CME, which was good, but we were constantly interrupted after a delayed start getting the slide show set up.

Ship's Log: 79deg, 14'N, 15deg, 37'E, 4C. Cloudy. The ship would be cruising in Smeerenburgfjorden, named after the 17th-century Dutch whaling station here, while we attended the morning’s program. This entailed a buffet breakfast, receiving our rubber boots, and the necessary safety briefings about Zodiac operations and polar bears.

Day 8, Saturday, June 24th

I got up around 7 on my own and did some exercises, then walked out and around the ship. The view out my window was fascinating, and I was excited to get out, as we were now surrounded by ice!

From this point on, I loved being out on the deck and walking around more than any other activity. To see the ice getting smashed, to hear it happening, was great. I recalled my joy at smashing ice while walking to and from school as a child; on this scale it was super entertaining. I had to go to breakfast, and then we tried to fit in another lecture before another polar bear talk, and then I was back out looking at the ice. We planned more lectures after lunch, but before we could get started, a bear was spotted. I am not sure how good their eyes or binoculars are, but it took us about an hour of sailing until anyone from our group saw it, and that was with zoom lenses 18 inches long and huge binoculars. That bear was not interested in being seen and was moving fast away from us. I caught a few glimpses with my binoculars, but there was no way I could get a photo from that distance. After he moved off, we started the talk, but then there were walruses. Once the lecture was over, another bear was spotted, but this time he was walking in front of the boat and in no hurry. I could see him with the naked eye, though still a hundred or more yards away. I am way too shaky to hold the camera steady on the long zooms, but I was lucky enough to get some good shots and videos. There was a sense of elation among the passengers. At least we saw some bears!!

Ship's Log: 80deg, 3.9'N, 13deg, 13'E, 5C, Clear. Observation of surrounding beauty of the Arctic Ocean was interrupted at 3pm by the announcement of Michael, our expedition leader: “Ladies and gentlemen, we have spotted a bear!” Everybody rushed to their cabins to dress up and grab a camera. Meanwhile our Captain Alexey was slowly and gently leading the ship forward towards the bear trying not to scare him away. The bear was walking pretty fast in a Northern direction. We managed to approach approximately 100-150 meters to him and take some good pictures. The bear did not feel like posing for us, so our meeting did not last long. It was an exciting day on the ice despite never leaving the boat.

Day 9, Sunday, June 25th

I stopped my patch since the water was so calm and I felt much better. In addition to the mucus, it also made my mouth taste sour. I slept the best I had in a while, perhaps as a result. The boat spent the night in an absolutely beautiful spot, and it was a stunning day. I went out in the morning before breakfast when no one was around and took some photos from the back of the boat:

After breakfast we donned our rubber boots and went out on the zodiacs. It was my first time on land since we'd started the cruise. The weather was still beautiful. We went to an old whaling settlement and toured it before watching and photographing 5 male walruses lying on the beach nearby. We were very careful not to touch anything or to make much noise.

That trip took the rest of the morning. After lunch we got a quick lecture, and then they called us for a briefing. We were not allowed to snorkel, so we went on a zodiac cruise to a beautiful glacier. Michael, the trip leader, was our boat guide, and initially we had to go back and forth while he straightened out problems with boats, including him getting on another zodiac and fixing the engine. It is one of the most beautiful places in the world, and it was about as nice a day as possible. We saw some seals swimming and that distracted people for a while. Then we got to the glacier, which was spectacular, but I never got to see any calving, though we heard it a few times later on. There were lots of small and larger pieces of ice floating about.

As we turned to head back we cruised along the far side and I had someone take some photos of me. Other boats kept getting in the way, but in the end they were all fine in their own way.

About this time Michael got on his walkie talkie and started talking about a polar plunge. I perked up but didn't say anything. Then he put it to us on the boat as a challenge: each guide tries to get the most people on the boat to do a polar plunge, which in this case was going swimming, getting your head under, on a beach near an old graveyard. No one seemed interested, so I said, "Are you serious? Because I'll do it." We discussed whether we could stop and get swimsuits, and Michael agreed. Otherwise I would have had to go in my bikini underwear, which are smaller than most speedos, and I wanted to be able to have someone shoot a video of me doing it. We still enjoyed our cruise and then Michael took us to the boat. I ran in and changed as quickly as possible, and a few others joined us from other boats. We left without one of the women who snorkeled who'd said she would do it, too. She was only mildly miffed.

It wasn't a long ride to the beach, and I got out and started getting undressed and found someone to work the video, a young America who'd said she would do the polar plunge but then didn't, while some of her friends did. I was about halfway done and going as fast as I could when suddenly there were some whoops and a young man who'd been in our boat sprinted across the rocks and into the water to much applause. I was still getting layers off when an Italian girl in a one piece, swim cap and goggles went in much slower and with much shrieking. I thought I would be the third as I approached the water, but the rocks were much sharper, slipperier, and colder than they looked, and while I was wincing my way, the doctor suddenly appeared next to the nearest zodiac, and shouted, "Who wants to see a naked doctor!?" He took off his underwear and quickly moved into the water and dove in as I got closer. It was taking me forever, and now he was in my shot and coming up with everything showing. I passed him as he stood up for the last time and dove in. It wasn't that cold, but I didn't linger; I didn't want the girl to have to keep running the video as her friends were nearly ready. It took me a long time to get back out, but at least I did it. I got dressed and we didn't stay much longer. I never saw the graveyard. People were pleased I'd done it, and so was I. I'd wanted to jump off the boat, but they said we weren't allowed to do that!

SFS#8: Olga, whose photo of me is below, was originally from Russia. She liked to tell jokes, and this one was really funny: Vladimir Putin decided to make a public appearance and went to a school to discuss the glorious history of Russia and its current government. The class had students of 13 and 14 years old. They listened quietly as he spoke, and then Putin asked, "Does anyone have any questions?" A boy in front named Sasha stuck up his hand and asked, "Why does this government say there are no Russian troops in the Ukraine when it seems like there are quite a lot?" Everyone seemed a little stunned Sasha would ask that, but Putin smiled, and after chuckling a bit, said, "Let's take a break, and while we are on break I will talk with Sasha and answer his question, as I am sure you would rather go outside and play." After they returned from the break, Putin again went to the front of the class and asked if there were any questions. A girl to his left named Masha raised her hand. Putin looked at her and said, "Go ahead." Masha asked, "Yes, where is Sasha?"

Ship's Log:Position: 79°43.4’ N / 011°02.2’ E, Wind: light air, Weather: clear, Air Temperature: +8°C. Today we woke up to a stunning weather, beautiful calm seas and a sunny morning. We went ashore on Amsterdamøya, to visit the remains of the 17th century Dutch whaling station Smeerenburg (“Blubbertown”). Some of the house remains were still covered in meltwater, but the foundations of the blubber ovens were easy to see from a safe distance (they are black, and almost like concrete from the reaction of the boiling blubber with the sands). We split up into three groups and we took turns to go a see a group of Walrus hauled out on the beach. The males were very relaxed and did not mind us coming in up to 30m, enabling marvelous pictures of these magnificent animals. During the walk on the beach we saw all the wood that drifted all the way from Siberian forests to the beaches of Svalbard, but unfortunately it wasn’t the only material present on the beach, there was also some rubbish washed ashore that came drifting North with currents. On our way back we picked up some of the plastic garbage and brought it back to the ship to be discharged in Longyearbyen.

After a zodiac tour of a glacier, we decided to stop at Gravesneset where many early whalers and sailors found their last resting places in the 17th-19th centuries. Some brave ones decided to defy the cold Arctic waters and go for a swim.

Photo courtesy Olga Torrey. The point is arguable, but this is about as bad as I can look with my shirt off. I am sure there is a better photo out there somewhere.

Day 10, Monday June 26th

This was the only time I went outside to exercise on the boat, going to the front deck to do some warm up and other exercises for running. We did some orthopedics lectures after breakfast. Again we were interrupted, this time by a bear, which I was well-positioned for and more ready for the long shots. I got some good photos of him swimming. It wasn't long after he left that one of the dive guides pointed out a bear swimming in front of the boat. I counted it as a second one, but it might have been the same one. If the latter, he covered some ground. We sat down for the lecture and were called again with a par of walruses, who proceeded to swim and frolic around the boat for well over an hour. Some of what they did was very funny, and they seemed to very much have a love/hate relationship. When you look at the gallery below, the last 4 polar bear pictures were taken by Michael Green, one of the dive guides, and are spectacular.

Later that morning the boat stopped. While we were at lunch people passed around a video of the captain walking on the ice next to the boat. Were we stuck? Did we have to turn around? They announced a briefing right after lunch. The answer was a surprise: we were going to be allowed to go walk on the ice and frolic for 15 minutes! As one of the "divers," I put on my dry suit and all the gear except for a mask, hoping they would also allow us to jump in. They made it clear that was absolutely not an option once we got out there. Instead I took photos while lying on my back, and we threw snowballs and posed for group photos. The Chinese pretended to be pulling the boat with a rope attached to the prow. It was good fun, but it was hot in the suit. I got cautioned for opening one of my zippers, since I was wearing it for bouyancy in case I fell through the ice.

The guides all had their rifles and were on the lookout for bears, and we weren't allowed where the ice was softer, but they otherwise let us have at it. It was one of the things about this trip that took it to the next level, and apparently they rarely get a chance to do it.

I had time then to work on my photos and videos, and then we had a quick lecture set before meeting about tomorrow. That night was the big barbecue on the back deck just below my room. I was curious as to the food, and there wasn't enough to sustain a vegetarian, so I ate some of the ribs (good) and a sausage in addition to various salads. As people finished up, the staff started to play their music louder, and some of the ladies in our group started getting down. Anyone who really knows me knows I love to dance, but I am fickle, and it took me a while to warm to it, as they were mostly playing Latin music I'd never heard before (there was a group of Colombians on the boat as well). It was still more fun than sitting in my room, which the very shy Alice opted to do early on. Some of our group were real show-offs, including the big doctor, Eric, and our lecturer, Karen, who even got me to dance with her (I am out of my element dancing with someone else...) twice, and Annie, with whom I danced once. The highlight for me was when I started faking my way through a semi-salsa, and one of the male Colombians made a point to say, "Man, you're a good dancer," to me (he was sincere). I didn't stay up late, but a lot of people did, as the party moved back to the observation lounge. My only regret from that night was not trying to dance with a beautiful Italian girl who was with the guy who sprinted into the water. She could really move, and her smile would have lit up the sky in the winter up there. I must also mention the captain came down and danced some with the Colombians and the staff were the wildest participants when not up a deck smoking.

Ship's Log:

• Date: 26.06.2017
• Position: 79°54.4’ N / 013°12.3’ E
• Wind: E - 2
• Weather: clear
• Air Temperature: +4°C

A glistening icescape met the drowsy eyes of the early risers this morning. At 05:00 the sun was shining and the scenery surrounding the ship was nothing short of incredible. However, by the time Sebastian brought a good news about 09:30 that he found a Polar bear in front of Raudfjorden. Lucky enough for us, the bear was hunting the seal on the edge of the sea ice. However, the polar bear ran out of luck to get his breakfast, and missed catching the seal who escaped into the water. But we were able to spend about one hour wandering with this Polar bear on the sea ice edge and enjoy the icescape with an impressive mountain range as a backdrop.

At 11:00, our expedition team discovered two Walrus in front of the ship and drifting at sea. Captain Alexey sailed the ship carefully and slowly to get close to the Walrus. Everyone got their camera quickly and watched the Walrus play around the ice pack. It was breathtaking to watch the Walrus climb up the ice and listen to them breathe. It was a very great experience to watch Walrus eye to eye and close like this.

Of course, being in the pack ice didn’t mean that we could rest and so after lunch the expedition team offered an amazing experience along the sea ice pack. Captain Alexey sailed the ship deep into a piece of a ice sea professionally. After the expedition team did all the safety checks, all of us started to "disembark" on the ice sea and walk above the Northern Sea. This is a unique experience to walk on the thin sea ice and take a picture with the ship at sea level. Thanks for the hotel team who served us a glass of wine at the end of this wonderful day.

At 18:00 we were invited down to the aft deck for our special Arctic BBQ. The hotel team had prepared a real feast of meats and salads and with complimentary drinks, and the party soon got underway with dancing continuing late into the evening. A great end to a great day! Throughout the evening we sailed further South to our destination for tomorrow, keeping an eye out for any whale blows from the lounge before retiring to our cabins for the night. Many people stayed up well into the night to enjoy the endless sunshine on this glistening sea scape. It had been a truly wonderful day.

Day 11, Tuesday June 27th

During the night, the weather got rough and the boat was moving up and down way more than usual. I was a little unsure, but decided to put a patch back on. After breakfast we did a landing near an old marble quarry and then a hike, the first of those. It was a longish walk, several hours, but with lots of stops. I forgot how wet you could get on the zodiacs and had to change into dry pants when we got back.

At a meeting after lunch they told us we could go snorkeling again. They had a place with a lot of ice bergs near a glacier. I was excited and much calmer as we headed out, and this time I took my camera which claimed it was waterproof but I had never tested it. The divers were also snorkeling around a moderate-sized iceberg when we got there and I took lots of pictures while floating around. At one point I got on an underwater step and dove off three times, the first time dislodging the snorkel, but from then handling it well. I tried to climb up on the other side and slid off, and then was told by one of the guides not to try to get on it anymore. I was bitter when I saw all sorts of photos with the divers on it and jumping off, etc. It was fun, but it would have been fun to swim around more and explore, too.

We got in the zodiac and had a nice tour of the glacier and some of the really quirky ice floes and bergs around it. There was also a bird cliff just near the glacier, but I am not bird guy. That night we did lectures until 10:30!

• Ship's log, Tuesday June 27th
• Position: 78°57.3’ N / 012°01.9’ E
• Wind: S - 3
• Weather: overcast
• Air Temperature: +3°C

After a night with a little more swell and wind than the last couple of days, it was time to walk off the BBQ from yesterday at Ny London on Blomstrandhalvøya. In three groups we explored the remains of the marble mining operation and rusting machinery that Ernest Mansfield had brought up here between 1911 and 1920. It was nice to have Frigga around as she studied the history of the various mining operations on Svalbard for her PhD and was able to tell us more on the Northern Exploration Company and the quarries, machinery and railroad tracks as well as on the various reasons for the marble mining to stop. Now we know that the names Ny London and Camp Mansfield (which can be read over the door of one of the two huts) are not from the early years, but from later date and given to the places by the Norwegians. And that 4 of the 100 year old huts have been transported to the other side of the fjord and are also still in use as research stations in the settlement of Ny Ålesund. From Ny London all three parties explored the tundra and hills around the settlement, were the Purple saxifrages and Moss Campion were coloring the tundra nicely. Most of the hikers saw a lovely reindeer calf with its mother grazing behind the oldest (summer) quarry (which was neatly and straightly cut, in comparison to the jitty-handcut winter marble quarry). Some hikers also saw some blue whales in the Kongsfjord and breeding Long-tailed skuas on the tundra.

In the afternoon we explored the bay in front of the 14th of July Glacier with lovely bergy bits, some washed up on shore, and even some small blue-ish icebergs. In two groups we explored the shores of the bay. A group walked up to the “hanging gardens” of wonderful Arctic flora on the rocks along the beached brash-ice under the Kittiwake colonies first. A second group started off in Zodiacs exploring the nearby bird-cliffs where Guillemots, Glaucus gulls and Puffins were nesting and where quite a large group of reindeer was grazing. It was quite an adventurous cruise due to the currents, swell and 12 knots of wind coming from the glacier. Halfway through the expedition, the groups swapped and by six o’clock everybody was back on board for a recap on Reindeer and the blue color of glacial ice, as well as the briefing for tomorrow. We missed this while snorkeling. First I heard of it now...

Day 12, Wednesday, June 28th, last full day at sea

Today our first activity was a hike, and it was rainy most of the time. We hlked up the side of a glacier, the moraine, to get a good look at the glacier, and then back and across the tundra back to the boat.
 

There were less people interested in diving/snorkeling in the afternoon. Most of us were satisfied and didn't want to get our stuff wet again. So we went on another hike. This one was fun; the guide was a saucy, cute enough English girl, Sara, and we went with her into the center of the island while the other groups worked their way up the beaches. We got a small bunch of reindeer to keep approaching us, all while the others never got near them. It was a pretty island, if not a pretty day, and the beaches had unique rock formations. Kevin, one of the doctors with us, traded his jacket for one of the Chinese men's to much frivolity. I can say it never would have occurred to me to do that, but I like my jacket a lot.

Back on the boat we were getting ready to be done the next morning. The captain came by for another toast, then there was dinner, where they brought out all the workers for us to thank and applaud. SFS#9: This is a no one but Terry story. While eating, not knowing they were going to be bringing everyone out, I really had a lot of bowel pressure, so I excused myself and ran off to my room. There ensued perhaps the greatest expression of flatus ever (at least from an otherwise healthy human). At one point I had a fart last nearly 20 seconds (watch your watch for 20 seconds. It is a long time), longer than any I could ever remember, and after another short, loud one, ANOTHER 20 second fart!! I was laughing in disbelief. There should be a recording crew following me at all times just for moments like that I'm sure other people would love to share. After I went back to the room to finish packing, we met again for one last time in the observation lounge for a slide show by Faith. It had a few from this trip, and then a promo for a trip to Antarctica, during which there was footage of Faith being pulled into a zodiac by loudly laughing men that made me very amused, having done it twice myself.

• Ship's log: Date: 28.06.2017
• Position: 78°31.0’N 012°50.6’E
• Wind: ESE- 3
• Weather: rainy
• Air Temperature: +3°C

We woke to grey skies and a slight drizzle of rain, but this was certainly nothing to worry about, after all, this was expedition cruising! A little bit of unfavourable weather could only add to the atmosphere and dramatic quality of our pictures, after all we were meant to be in the Arctic!

The plan for this morning was a landing at Gjertsenodden in St Jonsfjord.

We landed on a flat sandy beach, where vast tracts of moraine left behind by a retreating glacier have formed a rolling and hilly terrain behind. Frigga and Sasha set off with the long walkers, aiming for a distant ridge, shortly afterwards the medium group set off and finally the leisurely walkers strolled along the shoreline with Lynn paying close attention to the wonderful flora that was now beginning to bloom. There were a few reindeer on the slopes, some of which were very inquisitive and came remarkably close and one of the groups even managed to get a quick glimpse at an Arctic fox before it darted up the hillside. For the birders amongst us there was great excitement at spotting the Svalbard rock ptarmigan, this is a true Arctic bird as it does not flee to warmer climes to escape the harsh winter like most. Most of us had a look at the very small trapper's hut which was just set back from the shoreline, looking out over the fjord, but one thing was for sure we all took time to stop, listen and enjoy the fabulous views and sounds of the Arctic.

All safely back on board we enjoyed our last lunch on the Plancius, meanwhile the ship made her way to Poolepynten which was to be our final landing of this exciting expedition. Poolepynten is known for its haul-out of walruses and we all hoped that luck would be with us today and we might get another good view of these incredible creatures. However, as so often happens with expedition cruising we were forced to turn to Plan B when on arrival at Poolepynten we noticed that the walruses were no longer ‘at home’ and the beach was in fact empty. Plan B involved sailing south to Tordenskioldbukta where we could do a landing and short hike. Tordenskioldbukta is known for its wide open plains, open bays and high density of reindeer and this is exactly what we got. On arrival to the bay we split into three groups, one of which ambled along the coast line with Frigga exploring the various archaeological artefacts, whilst the other two groups headed slightly inland in search of reindeer and any other wildlife they might be lucky enough to stumble upon. The reindeer were incredibly obliging, stopping and posing for everyone’s photos at close range and at one point even appeared to follow us on at our exploration. Despite having to resort to a Plan B this afternoon, this site seemed to be the perfect way to end the voyage as in many ways it seem to encapsulate the ‘best of the Arctic summer’; green, lush tundra in bloom against a backdrop of snow topped mountains, dotted with reindeer and birdlife.
As soon as everybody was back on the ship, it was sadly time for the Plancius to lift anchor and head towards Longyearbyen.

No sooner had we got a hot drink to warm ourselves was it time to head back up into the lounge for our final evening briefing. After a toast from the Captain, there were thanks to all of the people who made the trip so enjoyable, followed by all the information we need for our disembarkation. Our last dinner was full of talk and laughter and we moved from the dining room to the lounge, enjoying our last night on board, but still remembering to pack our bags for their early departure from the ship.

Day 13, Thursday, June 29th

Back to a land-based life. It was hard to leave the relaxing, entertaining cruising lifestyle behind. We put our luggage in the halls so they could transfer them again by Zodiac (again, bigger boat at the dock). I went to the bathroom after breakfast and the steward came in the room while I was in there and started stripping my beds, though I shouted to let him know I was busy. I could understand and donned my life vest wistfully. There was a light rain and gloom over Longyearbyen. Chaos reigned again at the dock as we thought there was a special bus for the divers, but we then had to absolutely cram onto another bus. Our stop was the last one and I got out only to find my bag was not in the chamber. We drove back to the Svalbard Hotel stop and it was sitting along the side of the road there! Then, when we got to Coal Miners, I was not able to check in. I left my big bag there and took my backpack and computer bag and walked down the hill to the Svalbard Hotel. Faith and the rest were all in their lounge, also unable to check in to the apartments she'd booked for us to spend the day in. Finally we got our stuff inside a room, though I won't go through all the hassles, and I walked down to the North Pole Expedition Museum. I had to take off my shoes and left my jacket at their counter, and made my way through. It was very dense with information (including many old, verbose newspaper articles), mostly about failed expeditions and rescue attempts which often led to rescue of the rescuers. I went to the grocery store and got some skyr and a smoothie for cheap and ate them outside on a log for my lunch. I went back and got my bags without seeing anyone, and by the time I got back to Coal Miners, I could check in. I'd thought about doing something the rest of the day, but I didn't want to do any more than go on a run and take a shower. The run was ok, but there was a brutal wind especially on the way back. When I ate dinner, the Russian who sat with us nearly every night was there and gave me a wave.  I had almost the same meal as last time, but salmon instead of cod. I went to bed at 9:15, and wore ear plugs, as it was noisy until around 10:30. Slept well then.

Day 14, Friday, June 30th:

I ran 6.27 miles all around town and back up the hill. It was not as cold as forecast. I got breakfast, waited a while, then checked out and sat outside reading and waiting for the bus. It came, wasn't crowded, and got to the airport ok. That was crowded, but no problems with plane (Sara, the guide was also on it) and got to Oslo right on time. There was a long wait for my bag, then I took the train back and checked in. I went out quickly to try to find a place to eat on the water and ended up walking well over a mile to a place on the waterfront pier, Albert's Bistro. It was French, and I had to sit right by the hostess station, but the food was good. It took forever (nearly two hours), and then I had to walk all the way back, though even after dessert I stopped for ice cream.

Day 15, Saturday, July 1.

The night was good. I got up before 5 and did a run out the waterfront again, and this time I felt great, smooth and ran a fast pace without much effort. I was very pleased. I got ready to leave and tried the restaurant downstairs and they were closed this time (didn't open until 8 on Saturdays), so I ate breakfast at the airport again, but this time we were in a different section without the grocery store. I had to wait a long time to check in again, but security nice and fell asleep in waiting area before boarding. I had nice seat mate, watched King Kong: Skull Island and read Lincoln in the Bardo. It took a long time for luggage and shuttle at Newark, but finally I was in the car on the way to the Finger Lakes. What a great trip!

I hope you enjoyed this. It was a lot of work. I always love compliments, negative and positive.

The Canadian Rockies

There are plenty of places to go in the world, and I have only scraped the surface, but it is much easier to go places where you know someone, and after two trips to Europe with recently graduated nieces, I planned my next trip with convenience in mind. In 2013 I went to Calgary in July while in tip-top physical condition, even for me, and I got a devastating case of food poisoning from a salad I ate at the airport that came as close to incapacitating me as is possible. I did manage to go to the Calgary Stampede (at that time only nauseated and sweating), the great Tyrrell Dinosaur Museum in Drumheller (now with a fever), and after a few days of severe symptoms, Banff. I was sorry to have ruined my friends' vacations as well. I met Belayneh and Yenu when I arrived in Swaziland in 2002 and was lucky to spend some time with them and their children. When I asked them if they would be willing to have me back and try to go to Yoho National Park, which I'd read about recently in National Geographic, they were eager.

It was scheduled for July, the time of the Calgary Stampede (again). I am an experienced day hiker, and, despite some annoying calf injuries, in pretty good shape, so I really wanted to do some of the highly regarded trails in Yoho. Belayneh and Yenu were game to come along. That was a bit of a relief as I have not hiked much in Grizzly country (one or two times in Alaska with Joe Morehouse would be it there, and he carried a gun) and there is safety in numbers for sure in that situation. In lieu of their companionship, I would likely have been able to go along with others since it is a pretty popular place, but we moved ahead with them coming with booking hotels, which were pretty full since it was Stampede time.

I arrived late on Saturday the 9th after avoiding anything uncooked at the airports. The weather did not look that great: lots of rain in the forecast, but I was prepared. After a good night's sleep and a run in their pleasant and well-pathed neighborhood of Tuscany, we caught a train from the new Tuscany stop to the Stampede. It turned out we got there about one hour too late for free admission for family day, so it was very crowded with lots of kids. We scoped things out more than we did the last time and got tickets for the afternoon rodeo and then started to eat. I am a vegetarian, but I have three oft-stated weaknesses: ribs, duck and pork belly. On this occasion, with few vegetarian options in sight (I don't recall seeing even fish sandwiches), we lined up for ribs and got a half rack each with some spicy baked beans. Everything was really good, and they had excellent sauce. We also snagged some poutine, which I'd heard many a Canadian comic joke about but had never tried (gravy and fries with cheese curds - overall pretty good). This healthy menu was topped off with a Hong Kong waffle and ice cream.

It was a pretty nice day despite a forecast for rain, and the rodeo afternoon went well - there is a certain blend of comedy, sexism, and machismo wrapped around perturbed animals at a rodeo, and it is entertaining even to someone like me, though I did some cringing. After that we made our way to a restaurant downtown for a good meal (salad!!) and a train ride back to Tuscany. A good day!

Monday was rainy, with the worst of it coming on my run around the neighborhood on their paths. We went to the new Museum of Music (it has another, less obvious name) in the city. It was mostly for Canadian musicians, but there were quite a lot of them enshrined there (the word "pantheon" was used), and there were some nice participatory exhibits (I noodled poorly on a guitar, a drum set and several pianos, but couldn't get the singing booth to work - perhaps a good thing since my thyroid surgery). We adjourned for lunch at another nice restaurant (vegetable risotto) and then took care of some items for our trip (bear spray, rental car) and took a walk on the very pleasant greenway along the Bow River near Tuscany when the sun came out later in the afternoon.

Tuesday was again touch and go weather-wise, but I had a decent run and we made it up and over the continental divide into British Columbia and Yoho Park only a little later than I'd hoped. It was a tough call for me with the timing of the hike. On one hand, I wanted to make sure we got in as much as we could, but it was late morning and we had no plans for lunch. I'd scrutinized maps given to me by my doctor and occasion running buddy, Ray Douglas, who surprised me when he said he'd been to Yoho in 2003 and bought several waterproof maps and a few books while there. It looked like the best option for the first day would be a fairly level walk in the Yoho Valley out to a few waterfalls. I guessed it would be between 5-8 miles depending on how Belayneh and Yenu felt, and then we could grab a late lunch and check in at the Great Divide Lodge, our base for two nights. After that there were a few nice, short hikes we could do later in the day before eating dinner.

It was cloudy, raining lightly at times as we arrived at the Takkakaw Falls after a short drive down the hill from the lodge (we didn't stop) and out the Yoho Valley Road, which is only open a few months a year. We first strolled up the walkway to the base of the falls. One could get pretty close, though that involved lots of spray and mist. The falls are the third highest in Canada at over 1200 feet, and just a bit from the top shoot out horizontally to great effect. They are fed by a glacier which is less than 400 meters from the edge of the falls.

Far enough from Takkakaw Falls that I was not getting wet. I don't remember being on stilts then, but....

From there we headed back to the car to get our packs and start the hike proper. Yenu asked me if I wanted any of their water or food, but I had my camelbak pack with about 70 ounces of water and 6 energy bars, enough for the three days we would be in the park. Belayneh carried their backpack and put on leather boots. Yenu wore some Nike running shoes. I was pretty sure they would be all right for the day.

One of my favorite photos, just off the trail, showing the Yoho River.

The first part of the trail is relatively flat and follows the Yoho River as it rages down to the falls and beyond. It was a lovely color from the glacial run-off and never wide enough I wouldn't have been able to throw a football across. It got warmer and we took off jackets and packed them away. I did get a little worried when Yenu complained about the first hill, which was fairly long but not all that steep, though it did have some wooden steps in parts. They both seemed to have no problem walking the day before and kept a good pace this day, so I tried to relax and not worry too much. If they were up to it, there were several harder options we could try that might take us to better scenery, though the river was nice.

Laughing Falls a the junction of the Little Yoho and Yoho rivers.

I think it was when we arrived at Laughing falls that we had our first troubles. It was well past lunch time, though I wasn't hungry, and after taking some photos, both Yenu and Belayneh said they were hungry and admitted they'd brought nothing to eat. Yenu said since I turned down their food, they didn't think they would need any. I gave each an energy bar and we moved on. About that time we were where I thought we might turn around, but after I reviewed the map with them, they wanted to take the trail farther out and connect with another trail called the Whaleback and take that back. I certainly was in favor of that, as it would make it a much better hike for me, but I cautioned them it looked like there was at least one really big climb and it would take much longer. They were again enthusiastic to try a different way.

We turned off as the main trail, which headed for the Yoho Glacier, and meandered through pine forests away from the stream. On a series of switchbacks an elderly woman suddenly appeared, walking by herself holding trekking poles. She cheerfully greeted us. Yenu and Belayneh were very surprised to see someone so old out there, and I think it gave them confidence to keep going. The woman, who turned out to be the owner of a historic back country chalet/guest house out there, asked me to stop by there and tell Gifford to put the muffins she'd just baked in a container for the guests to eat later, as she forgot to do that before she left. I promised her I would.

We continued to climb gradually on the trail, which was generally of good quality with reliable footing. I was the first to arrive at the chalet, and, after a brief reconnaissance, headed over to it. It was locked and had a sign up saying it was closed until 3 (it was about 1:30). I looked in some windows and saw a young man reading. I knocked on the glass and then the door and he opened it. It was Gifford, and I passed on the message. He was happy to hear it, and I headed back to B&Y, who'd taken seats on a log. I tried to go to the bathroom, but there was no toilet paper and I'd brought none. I had terrible gas and had to hold it as it seemed like some solids or liquids might come out with it, but I was taking no chances. My sphincter held.

Right near the chalet, and certainly one of the appeals of its setting, was Twin Falls. The falls could not be seen well from the trail, and we almost walked right past the trail to the viewing area. That would have been a big disappointment: they were really impressive.

Twin Falls. We would soon have a very different view of them.

From there we got on the Whaleback trail. I had some second thoughts, as there was a connector from the area of the chalet that was a bit shorter and more direct, but we went ahead. The trail actually went off the map for a while as it headed a bit north but then turned and headed back south and up a hill. We were walking quite a while before we started some switchbacks. I could tell there was a nice view to the right and hoped we would go there, but it just kept going up, only occasionally flattening out to cross a prior avalanche zone where the trail went through the rocks.

A view of the trail. I was starting to have trouble keeping them close.

The views started to improve and a vast valley opened up with some fairly high mountains on the other side.

The reward of a long climb.

We kept going up and up. It seemed to take a lot longer than the map suggested. A group of hikers came down and passed by us, but I didn't ask them how much farther. I could tell B&Y were having trouble, so I planned to take a short cut back once we reached a junction, but that junction was nowhere to be found. Things finally leveled off some, but only for a short while and then we came to a raging river with a small bridge across it. I thought this was the area where the shortcut should be, but after exploring, we couldn't find it. At one point, we turned back. I did not want to head all the way back - at the pace we were going, it would get us back between 7 and 8pm. There was another trail from the other side of the bridge, but it might go even farther into the mountains. I convinced them to go back, and when we did I realized where we were and it was not good: we were only a the top of Twin Falls. To go back would take about 5 hours, and to go along the trail I saw was going to be about 4 hours. We crossed the bridge for the third or fourth time (someone with anxiety would have trouble crossing it once - see video) and headed up the only trail there, which I figured was the continuation of the Whaleback trail. It climbed more gradually, but kept climbing, and I was very worried about how much longer Belayneh and Yenu could go. It was about this time I asked them what I was worried about: they had only brought a half liter of water each and were thirsty in addition to being hungry. I gave them another energy bar and ate two myself as we kept going, with me rushing forward to scout the trail and going back to encourage them. My only solace was I finally risked letting some gas out and was really relieved, though if you know me, it took quite a while for all of it to get out.

It opened up onto the top of a ridge with a glacier on the right and Whaleback Mountain towering over it. I later found out at that point we'd climbed 2200 feet in the last 2 hours. It was really very pleasant up there and I was having a ball except for worrying about Belayneh and Yenu. We met up with two older women (maybe even in their 70s) who were coming the other way and they said we had about 20 minutes to a very beautiful overlook and then it was still a ways but we were getting close to the way out.

We'd climbed up above 7000ft to where there was still snow/ice. Whaleback Mt. in background.

I still kept dashing ahead. It is much easier for me at that point in a hike to walk fast rather than try to walk slow, and my feet were starting to get a little sore. Finally I could see the scenic overlook, and, after I got there and checked it out, I found the trail from there was all downhill, though it was likely steeper than the way we'd come. This area was very pretty and is worth a short slide show:

The first photo shows the area where we have to go, down into the valley past the little trees. It was a nearly endless series of switch backs that likely took us down over a 1000ft in less than 30 minutes. The other shots are looking back into the valley, and there is a marker there for a woman killed in an avalanche.

After the switchbacks there was a more gradual downhill and, unbeknownst to me, at some point Belayneh's jacket fell out of his backpack. He noticed it and they had to go back for it. Some hikers found it and were bringing it along. The car keys and his wallet were in it, so it was pretty important we not leave it behind. We met a connector trail and headed back to Laughing Falls and then the flat section all the way back. They were beat. I don't know if they got anything to eat or drink right away, but we headed right to the lodge to check in and get dinner. I was not super hungry, but I'd run 5 miles and walked close to 15 miles and had only a bowl of cereal and two clif bars in 13 hours.

The people at the hotel were really nice and the desk clerk super cute, but they gave me the wrong meal. I ordered poutine again just for the calories and then vegetable primavera, but they gave me the chicken prmavera. I hate to eat chicken, but the thought of sending it back and waiting for them to make it right wasn't worth it. They didn't have dessert, either. But it was convenient.

I went to bed first in our suite - it was a small TV room with a few couches and chairs and bathroom near the door and a loft upstairs with 2 queen beds. I brought my noise machine which helped drown out Belayneh's snoring some, and I was able to get some sleep, but I woke up around 4 am and couldn't get back to sleep. I am often assisted in this by going to the bathroom, but that required getting downstairs, and it was so dark in there I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I got out of bed and headed for the railing. With that in hand I walked to the stairs and promptly drilled my forehead into one of the huge overhead beams I'd forgotten about. I didn't make any noise and managed to make it to the stairs in a crouch and down. When I came back up, after banging my toes in the dark into several things, I crawled across the floor to my bed and back in. It was worth it after all, as I slept well the next two hours.

Next came another test: trying to run in this area, with the possibility of literally running into a bear. I run frequently in the woods in Pennsylvania, where black bears are numerous, but I have never seen one. They stay away from humans, though I usually run very quietly (I often startle deer). Discretion being the better part of valor, I decided to run only on the main roads and the wide unpaved roads in that area. It had just stopped raining and was cloudy, but I headed out cheerfully and ran to the east on the Trans Canada Highway. It had a nice, wide shoulder, so even though the speed limit was 55mph, it was pretty safe. There was a turn to the south heading for Lake O'Hara, a scenic area with limited access via a closed gravel road, and I took it and ran on that road a short way up a hill and then back to the lodge, stopping on occasion for a photo.

The top is a look down the hill as I was heading back on the Lake O'Hara road after being passed by two super loud dump trucks. The road was nice and wide and I felt pretty safe (I did have a can of bear spray with me). The second photo is the Great Divide Lodge. The third photo is the view across a small lake on the other side of the road from the lodge (Wapta Lake)..

After a big breakfast (I took a bunch of snacks for my hikes as well since I was out of energy bars), we headed down to Emerald Lake, the road to which was not that far past the road into the Yoho Valley. B&Y were going to hike around Emerald Lake and then do some sight seeing, since their legs were so sore. I planned to do a big loop at top speed up to the Yoho Lake and then across a ridge and back down a steep slope to Emerald Lake. It was not a nice day, raining steadily and only in the low 50s F. The peaks were shrouded again in clouds. I hoped there would be a lot of people about so I could join up with groups and find whoever was fastest to stick with until I felt safe, but there was no one around.

Emerald Lake on a rainy day, still pretty emeraldy. My hike was along the river to the left and over that mountain.

Emerald Lake is beautiful, even on a dreary day, and I enjoyed the early hike around it with Belayneh and Yenu, who kept a brisk pace despite their soreness. We parted ways after about a mile and I headed off at a brisk pace. Apparently they felt guilty and tried to catch me, even yelling for me to stop, but I was in my own world, focused on keeping safe and moving fast.

The trail was initially very flat, then started a very slight climb. It was often covered with water, some of it flowing briskly. I started to have second thoughts. At almost exactly two miles, the trail was covered by a raging water nearly a foot deep in parts. I pressed on, but finally decided it was never ending and turned around. I would hike back and take a few of the side trails to kill time until B&Y came back for me in 4 hours. I allowed myself one out: if someone came along (at that point, there wasn't a soul out there other than mine), I would go along with them. These photos show the condition of the trail.

Just as I was getting back to the connection with trail around the lake, I spotted two people. They were standing and looking in my direction and then started moving to me. I waited until they came up and we started talking. They were curious about the trail and I told them how wet it was, but I said if they wanted to, I would walk back up there with them and they might spur me on. They were not doing the hike I'd planned but were going up to Yoho Lake and back. So, we set off with me in the lead. They were well prepared with bear bells (not that helpful, but) and whistles, which they blew frequently (more effective). They were from Belgium, a pretty black girl and a stubby white guy with a beard who were camping in the area while trying to do a hike or something interesting each day. Their English was great. It didn't take long for us to get to the watery parts, but they kept going, worrying only about how bad it would be on the way back if it kept raining. Finally we got to where I'd turned around, and it was then I noticed, not 30 feet from where I'd stopped, the trail rising out of the water and on up the hill. If only I'd seen that, I'd have kept going earlier.

The lady was a good hiker; she was right behind me, and I felt like she was pressing me to go faster. We were starting a steady climb and I kept pushing with her right on my heels. I was starting to feel it; I was having trouble keeping up the pace, but still her walking sticks were clicking right behind my boots. I was just a few seconds from stopping and checking to see if they wanted to go ahead, as it was too much for me, when they asked ME to stop, saying I was going way too fast and there was no way they could keep that pace up! I had a great laugh internally and we stopped for a break. I promised to go slower, and did, for the most part, but from that point on it was a nonstop climb and we took many breaks, as the man was a smoker and not in top shape. Still we did well, but it reminded me of the day before as I kept pressing onward, leaving them behind to see if the hill stopped anytime soon to encourage them on.

Instead of going straight and through the trees, we went to the edge of the cliff and to the left around it and over the top.

It kept turning to the left instead of to the right, which was flat, and I finally realized we were not crossing over the ridge at its low point but going around the big mountain to the left into the pass between the mountains, which was not much below the top of either. Still, we finally made it to the flats at the top, a 1700 foot climb overall, and I finally found the trail I'd planned to take. We headed to the lake instead and found it not that long after, not as pretty as Emerald Lake, but a nice spot, though it was raining its hardest and quite chilly (I had a lightweight rain jacket and thin moisture wicking long sleeve shirt on - not enough). Just as I was going to encourage us to leave and head back, as I was feeling the early grip of hypothermia, an old man walked out of the woods to our left.

Yoho Lake is a lovely spot, but not a place to linger in the cold rain.

I was astonished. There was no way he'd come the way we'd come and he'd not come from any of the trails in the area. He must have been in his 70s, puffing a bit, but carrying a huge pack. He'd gotten off the trail coming from the Yoho Valley (not far) and had "bushwhacked" the rest of the way to the lake, where he planned to spend the night, but he couldn't find any shelter. I mentioned (tactfully) a few times he might be better off heading back down, but he was determined to stay there and was looking to camp under some trees. He told us it was much easier to walk back the way he'd come and hitchhike to Emerald Lake, but we were quite skeptical of that advice. We left him wandering around in the rain.

At this point I was past 2.5 hours duration since parting from B&Y and needed to be back to the parking lot in 90 minutes. I wasn't sure we could do it, and didn't want to go too fast, but we were off to the races, with me in front. I am not a fast downhill hiker, but I kept it moving and it was not very slippery, and I would have made it back in 90 minutes if I hadn't decided to go the rest of the way around the lake, which was an extra mile. My companions were going that way as well, and I started to walk with them, but they said they were going to take a much slower pace, and we said our good-byes.

I went pretty fast the rest of the way and still ended up taking over 40 minutes for the two miles plus as it was super muddy (B&Y had turned back fairly early because of the mud). there were still lots of people walking that part, and I worked my way quickly around them and was able to sneak up on B&Y as they stood and sat by the main sign for the trails by the parking lot. They were so happy to see me. I felt guilty for making them wait, but even though I was wet and cold, it had been a great adventure.

On the way back we stopped at the natural bridge (really nice - see the video), and where the spiral train tunnels were on the long downhill (to allow the trains to travel on a less steep grade. It was not that nice - you couldn't see much, and the toilets smelled terrible). I was quite happy to get back to the lodge and change into some dry clothes. B&Y had the excellent idea of going to a different place to eat, and we managed to get the super cute desk clerk to call and make us the last reservations available at the lodge at Emerald Lake.

We drove back to the same spot and had a great meal. I gave in to Caribou filets despite there being a vegetable risotto on the menu and it was really good (They said they were raised on a nice farm nearby and treated very well...I didn't ask, but I heard him tell others.). We ate our fill (all the meals and the hotel were on me while in the park, while B&Y paid for the car and petrol. It was close to break even).

I planned the next day out and somehow was the last to bed. It was a much better sleep with no trips to the bathroom. I ran the same direction but took a different road the the Lake O'Hara turn, following a seasonal road towards Lake Louise. It was not as wide as the other but didn't have a big hill on it, either. I was steaming along when I noticed a big pile of poop in the road, then another smaller one that was grayish and looked more like dog poop. I am no tracker, but it looked like mama and baby bear to me, so I turned around (as all the guides say) and headed back, diverting onto the Lake O'Hara road again to get enough distance in. I like adventure, but I am not stupid and will not take too many chances.

We were on the road after breakfast and heading back east to Lake Louise. We needed to get there in time to find parking, which is almost always full by 10am. It was still cloudy, but the area is very pretty almost no matter what. We did a walk I wanted to do the last time we were there and went past the other end of the lake a little way into the mountains, but not to the more scenic areas. Still, it was pretty and felt good.

The top is looking from the hotel side of the lake to the glaciers and mountains at the other end, and the next shot is looking back at the hotel from the other side, and the last two are early in the valley as it ascends.

After that walk we headed to Moraine Lake, which is a pretty lake a short drive out a side road from Lake Louise. I had not been there, and we had no idea it would be as crowded as it was. Cars were parked over a mile out, with people walking along the road. I jumped out with about a half mile to go and walked quickly down while B&Y inched towards the parking area. By the time I was done taking some photos, we were able to get a spot and they got out and took some photos. There were some trails, but we didn't have time. Nearby there was a mountain called the Tower Of Babel. You can see why in the second photo. People, especially kids, were walking across logs in the outlet of the lake and climbing a rocky, small peak next to the lot. It was the kind of thing I would usually do, but I resisted the urge, and we set off again.

It was nearing lunchtime, and I planned for us to eat at our next stop, the gondola up the Lake Louise skiing areas, which crossed a nature reserve where there were usually grizzlies and which had a restaurant at the top. It was a little hard to find, but after that we were quickly in an open three person chairlift up the slope. The views were nice and it was just a bit chilly, so I was glad to have put my jacket on.

The view at the top was nice even with the clouds covering the tallest mountain in the park. We had to walk a way downhill to the restaurant and wildlife experience, and Yenu barely made it with her sore thighs. We ate first, getting seats on the deck and enduring the great views and a rain shower (there was an umbrella) while we waited a bit too long for our meals, which were really good (I managed to find pork belly to keep up my meat eating streak).

I screwed up this gallery, but it takes so long to fix I will leave it. This is the view on the chairlift.

I am sparing you selfies, but here is one at the restaurant. Then views from the mountain looking back at Lake Louise.

They had a nice taxidermy exhibit of the various animals in the area downstairs. It was informative. We walked up to the gondola station and were able to get on quickly and head down. On the way, Belayneh had his binoculars out and I was looking hard with my camera to see a grizzly. We finally put them away and right away a guy coming up the mountain said there was a grizzly way to our left along the treeline. I only had time to spot it, as did Yenu, and Belayneh never saw it at all (he was sitting on the right).

Now we were off to Banff. If you've never been there, Banff is a very American town. It is very touristy, but that is because it is beautiful there and the shops and restaurants are good. We scoped the area out and I did a little shopping, getting some nice Lululemon things and looking at hiking boots (nothing worth it for someone as quirky as I am). It came time for dinner, and B&Y were used to eating at the same places there. I threw them a curve and wanted to eat at an Indian place. I'm not so sure they were as excited as I was, but the food was great. Then we stood in line at a popular ice cream place before getting in the car and spotting a rainbow on the way out of town (in the video).

It didn't take us long to get back to Calgary and it was nice to sleep in the excellent bed at B&Y's house. I got up a little later the next morning and ran a long run in the rain (off and on at first, then hard at the end) along the Bow River on the walkways and then through a neighborhood I thought would connect with Tuscany but didn't, so it took me a while and I ran farther than I wanted (10.6 miles). It worked out ok, though I was soaked, as the weather was terrible the rest of the day, with one thunderstorm after another, including two spraying hail. Fortunately the Open Championship was on for most of the morning. There was a big meal at midday for Christian, their son, who turned 19, but other than that we just relaxed.

The next morning we were all up early to go to the airport, and then I was off on a daylong journey back to Philadelphia which went well and ended with an uneventful drive back to Danville. It was a great trip, full of adventure and beautiful scenery. I am grateful for the hospitality of Belayneh and Yenu! They are wonderful friends and people.

https://youtu.be/FlHG4Hlh-dA      is the link to my 7 minute youtube slide show, and this is the link to the 9 minute video

https://youtu.be/YSNZiXuPPk4

France and Amsterdam a la Madelaine

I had never been to Paris or the Netherlands before, so when my niece Madelaine Mill's graduation from college approached, I wondered if she would be interested in going there. Madelaine and I don't have all that much in common, but her desire to make this trip was at least equal to mine, so I booked the flights and the lodging and tried not to get too excited. Now that I work at a college, the arrival of late Spring and graduation affects me positively again, and Madelaine was very excited about her own graduation, so adding a big trip for someone who loves to travel as much as I do was a great addition to the end of my first school year.

It seemed to take forever and also only a few moments for the departure day to be upon us. I regretted not making more arrangements before going, but it seemed any pre-booking of a ticket required one to be present at a certain time, and I wanted to have as much spontaneity as possible. Two days before we left the Egypt Air flight from Paris disappeared in the Mediterranean and stories were popping up all over about long lines for TSA security checkpoints, but I wasn't worried. We did leave early on Saturday the 21st of May to park and get to our flight, but we went from check in through security in less than 15 minutes including a bathroom break. We passed the time eating and reading while it started raining steadily outside. It wasn't the weather that delayed our take off, though: one of the passengers complained his seatbelt wasn't working properly and it took them an hour to fix it.

We sat next to each other on the left side, the only two in that row near the back. I never sleep well and Madelaine was repeatedly bumped by passerby seeking the toilet. Still we arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport excited and ready, and it didn't take long for our bags and passport control. What did take a long time was getting to the RER B train. It seemed like we walked through three or four terminals to get there, and we finally found an ATM so we could get some Euros right at the stairs down. From then on it was an easy process and 45 minutes later we were again walking an inordinately long time in order to get out of the St. Michel/Notre Dame station.

I was discombobulated when we came out onto the street. Where were we? I had a very basic map without street names (I usually am quite enthusiastic about printing maps before arrival, but in Italy we were always given excellent maps by our lodging for free...). It was raining steadily as we crossed St. Germaine on St. Michel and wandered back and forth. We were lost. We went into a Best Western and asked at the desk and they finally grasped what we were looking for and told us where to go. It was not lost on my wet head the street to the hotel was only about 50 feet from where we'd come up from the train. We were in the Sixth Arrondissement for Paris fans, a great place to be, as it turned out.

The room was ready even though it was only 10am, so we were able to drop off our bags and freshen up a bit before heading out in better rain gear to see Notre Dame, a place I thought would be a great first stop for us. Only a five minute walk from the hotel, the familiar towers drew us right in and we had a leisurely look around while someone on the PA told us to be quiet in every known language with an occasional "SHHH!" thrown in.

After a brief search for it, we found the way to explore the towers of the cathedral outside on the side away from the Seine. The line was quite long, but having nothing else planned, we took up our spot at the end. The line moved in fits and starts, staying still for about ten minutes, then moving roughly twenty feet or so, testing our sleep deprived status. After an hour we got there. It turned out they just let about 20 people in every ten minutes as a rule. We climbed a long spiral staircase and came into a small store with a counter. There were no instructions. I waited at the line that said "tickets" behind a woman who was buying a necklace. That purchase secured, she moved on, and I asked the clerk if this was for a ticket to the towers. She said it was, so I bought two. The people who were ahead of us in the line were all sitting around in the room, so we stood around as well. Finally, as nothing seemed to be happening, I moved to the door and a man there took our tickets and sent us on our way up more steps. I don't know what everyone else was waiting for!

It is a long climb, and many of the participants were gasping for breath, but it was worth it even on a cloudy day, as the details of the exterior are much better appreciated up close and the views of the city are great, though through nets and fences. We moved around getting lots of shots of the area of the city north and west of us, including the looming Eiffel Tower, then went into the bell tower, and from there to another area higher up. It was all chaotic and run with little communication with us, but we got what we wanted.

After we walked back down, we admitted we were both tired. We stopped for lunch at Le Jardin Notre Dame which was on the way to the hotel. We had our first prix fixe menu lunch for a reasonable price (I had vegetable soup, some fish and potatoes, and cream caramel for dessert). We were quickly back to the room and both laid down on the beds. Madelaine went right to sleep and I eventually dozed a bit.

Somewhat refreshed, we set out for the Catacombs which seemed not that far away in Montparnasse. It started raining hard on our walk, bad enough at one point we took cover with about 40 others under an overhang. It slowed down to a tolerable level for the rest of the stroll, which was much longer than it looked on the excellent map (from the hotel, free!). As we got to the traffic junction where the entrance to the catacombs was, we could see a line. We walked over and the line went on and on around the block, probably 150 meters long. Grim. We walked to the end while talking about our options. In front of us in line were some perky women from Canada, and one of them eventually walked back to the beginning of the line and got word it was at least a two hour wait. In the rain. Having already waited a long time for Notre Dame, we bagged it; there was plenty of time to come back. We crossed the street to head back when Madelaine said, "Why don't we stop for a warm drink?" Coincidentally there was a nice, large cafe right there on the corner, so we got a cozy table with soft chairs and ordered their afternoon patisserie and drink special, a nice pear tart and hot chocolate. It was a perfect break, though it took them forever to give us the check.

Meanwhile I'd come up with a plan B: we would stroll through the Latin Quarter, a popular tourist diversion just to the south east of the 6th Arrondissement. It was a nice walk, past the Pantheon and the Sorbonne, though that wasn't as obvious, and into the lovely St. Ettiene Church, which had some really cool marble steps in it. It was close to 6pm, so when we passed an inviting restaurant we went in. They seated us outside near a heater and we had an excellent meal of crawfish salad, escargot, salmon in a pastry with veggies, cheese and curry sauce, and a top notch piece of lemon meringue pie.

As we walked back to our neighborhood, I started hankering for a crepe, and we were "invited" into a restaurant/creperie where I also had to order a drink with a crepe for 7euros. I got the bananas and chocolate crepe (pretty good) and a canned beverage with "Tropical" on it that was so heavenly I said it was the "Nectar of the Gods," a term Madelaine liked and we referred to many times the rest of the trip.

We both slept well and I woke up right before my alarm on a Monday morning. I got ready quickly for a run, a little too quickly for the hotel, as the doors were barred with wooden dowels and the base locked. I could hear the night clerk snoring and found him in a room off the lobby asleep. I tried every way I could to get out and even wrote a note, but I couldn't do it, so I eventually woke him up with the second loud ring of the bell at the desk. He popped right up like the presumed dead killers do in the movies and let me out without a word. I was determined to see how far it was to the Eiffel Tower if I took the paths along the Seine. Turns out it is about a 10k there and back. It was raining steadily and in the mid 40s, so not the ideal conditions, but traffic was light, and the Eiffel Tower is everything anyone says about it and more. It is huge, with a broad base I ran around before crossing the Seine and running back the other side past the Louvre, our first destination that morning. It was quite interesting as there are parts of that bank (the right/droit), that are entirely tree-covered. I was completely soaked, not a good situation in a tiny hotel room, but we managed and got ready.

Our breakfast our first morning, and every morning at the Hotel du Lys, was a tray with a pot of tea, two croissants and two pieces of French bread as well as small glasses of orange juice. I don't usually drink tea but I did every day, though I rarely finished the cup. I am not a big bread guy, either, but I admit it held us over until lunch every day (it helped they had delicious jelly).

We left for the Louvre prepared for rain, but it was really coming down on our walk there. My pants were drenched. It is a little over a mile to the entry way. We took shelter in there for a while before finally going to wait in the queue at around 8:30. The line started moving at 9 and it wasn't long until we were inside. I had quick drying pants on so I was comfortable except for wet feet shortly. The line outside is only for security, which is annoying. Once past that, we went down the escalator, put our wet coats and hats in a free locker, got tickets then headed into the Denon section with the Mona Lisa and followed the signs to it. It is not easy to find even with the signs, but it didn't take long. The crowd was a bit wild, but not bad and we got our up close and long views before taking in the rest of the room, which was also impressive (honestly, I don't see what the fuss is about the Mona Lisa. It is very tiny and no more remarkable than any other portrait to me. It is just a celebrity painting.). There was a hallway just outside that had multiple lovely Raphaels with no one around them I had a chance to savor. Madelaine started the pattern for the trip, racing ahead while I savored things a bit more (but still went fast).

The Louvre, for those who've not been there, is HUGE. The sections are nearly a half mile long. Our travel guide (a copy of Lonely Planet France at the hotel, not Rick Steves) said if you only just glanced at every work there it would take you NINE MONTHS to go through the museum. From there we tried to find the way to the Venus de Milo, the other super popular work there. It took a while, but there was a smaller crowd there. We moved around more, always having a bit of trouble getting where we wanted as we saw the two Michelangelo sculptures, two Rembrandts, and then went to the opulent apartments of Napoleon III after traversing a pleasant atrium with sculptures. Then we called it quits there and left. It was not raining anymore and we exited via the Carousel entrance we'd initially planned on using to get inside.

We stopped for lunch along the way and got frog legs and snails again as part of a cheaper meal. Then we dried out at the hotel (I needed dry socks) and left again around 3pm. We went back to Notre Dame as Madelaine wanted to pose with all the pigeons there (I did it, too). There is a nice garden on the river side, and from there we crossed to the adjacent Ile de St. Louis, a nice neighborhood for a touristy walk. We happened on a chocolate place there (de Neuville), and I bought a variety of fruit-dipped chocolates and a chocolate ball called a brocher. We headed on across the next bridge towards the monument for the Bastille (it otherwise has been demolished, perhaps rightly so). I decided to eat the brocher and, no exaggeration, it is the single best thing I have ever eaten: dark chocolate with pralines and almond flecks surrounding a mousse-like center so delicious I had to have more. We were already planning to return to de Neuville's!

But until then there was more of Paris to see. The Bastille monument was in a traffic-plagued area, and we went back to the northwest a while seeing what all was around before heading back across the Ile de la Cite Notre Dame. Madelaine later found her iPhone was keeping track of her steps and we did more than 30,000 that day. We saw the Church of St. Paul and went in. It was beautiful inside, with a nice marble statue of Mary. The sun came out near the end of this walk, the first time so far.

Dinner that night was a prix fixe for 10euros that was excellent: big pots of (granted, small, but delicious) mussels, fish with perfect rice and veggies, and yogurt with honey for dessert (it was remarkably good). We walked back over the Ile de St. Louis to get more chocolate and ice cream at one of the many shops we'd passed, but they were all closed. We did find an ice cream place on another street there that was really good and fast. We crossed the bridge at Notre Dame and went into a small but delightful park on the corner that was full of fragrant roses and other flowers. The perfect end to a busy day we'd definitely made the best of despite bad weather.

After the only bad night's sleep of the trip (multiple dreams of fights to the death with people - too much chocolate???), at least I didn't need to wake the night clerk when I went for my run. This time I went east/south along the Seine on both banks, dealing with a lot more traffic in spots. Nowhere near as scenic, it was still enjoyable.

Tuesday the weather was to improve, so we headed to the RER station to take the C train to Versailles. It was about a 45 minute ride there, and then we had to walk up a nice path to the palace. There was already a good crowd and a long line. A helpful staffer explained to us we needed tickets to wait in the line, but there were no lines for tickets, so that didn't take long (though I briefly couldn't find my wallet with my pockets so laden with other things), and the line moved fast, again mostly for security (sigh).

Near the end of the line, I paused to look back while Madelaine took photos.

Once inside we first went through rooms with exhibits about the estate and its evolution, and then we crossed the courtyard in the front to go through the rooms. It was opulent to a fault, with rich, deep colored walls and lovely art and furniture, culminating in the Hall of Mirrors, which is just what its name implies. Madelaine was in Heaven with all of her reflections there. It was pretty crowded and everyone seemed to want a photo of nearly everything, but otherwise it was nice.

We were a bit disappointed when the gardens, which we were told were free, were 9 euros to tour. We took a few photos from near the palace and then headed out. It took about 90 minutes from train to train, but it was worth it. The RER train took us back to the Eiffel Tower stop. We arrived at street level and immediately could see the tower just to the east. We walked quickly and found the area under the tower confusing but not overly crowded. It was a tough call, but we got in the line for the north elevators, which took a pretty long time to the ticket booth, and then a shorter time to get on the elevator. Madelaine had a mild freakout as it raced up to the first level, but she got it together by the time it stopped and let us out. We took a quick look around and then got in line for the elevator to the top. THAT took a long time. A child near us was screaming for a good twenty minutes and there seemed little order, but we finally got into that precious car.

Madelaine again had a mild freakout, and we were now quite high (I think the top observation deck is around 960 feet up, but I'm too lazy to look it up). We jumped out and started taking photos. A nice couple took our photos in exchange for taking theirs. It is a great view. The buildings are pretty much the same color, but the river and the gardens and parks stand out even more as a result. I was not bothered by the height at all.

From the top it was not a long wait to go back down. We got off at the middle level and walked around a bit, then got lunch (Madelaine got a ham sandwich and I got a pizza). We took the elevator the rest of the way down and walked towards the Seine and the bridge that would take us to the area of the Trocadero. We still were excited about the tower and took more photos from the other side of the river before heading up to the Arc de Triomphe. That didn't take too long, and it was also much more impressive than I thought it would be. It is quite huge, sitting in an area of high traffic. Mercifully there is a tunnel under the roads to the structure. We did not go up in it, but I looked at every inch otherwise. They have a tomb of an unknown soldier with a flame (not eternal, but daily) under the arch on the street level.

We crossed back through the tunnel and started down the Champs Elysees. It was moderately crowded, and we soon came across a little cafe selling sweets and flavored ices (we got tarts and flavored ices). We ate at a table on the sidewalk and enjoyed people watching. After that break we pushed our way south and east to the Place de la Concorde, stopping once or twice to window shop or go inside a store. I could see a park to our left that was calling to me to run in it, but that never happened. We ignored the pull of the Palais both Grand and Petit to our right and took in the Plaza with its ferris wheel and spire with hieroglyphs and gold tip before walking back along the right bank through the Tuileries Garden, which wasn't that nice (lots of construction), past the Louvre, then across the unique pedestrian bridge that splits to two levels as it gets to each side. I was in ecstasy as I saw men doing exercises on some bars at the water level path there and made Madelaine video me as I did 12 perfect pull ups with no warm up, appearing to astonish the few (admittedly all wimpy) Frenchmen there. After another set, we were off up the little hill to street level and back along the left bank to the hotel. We went out to eat after a brief rest.

I am mostly a vegetarian; people get too caught up in labels, but I will eat fish when no other options present themselves. I rarely ever eat meat. The exceptions occasionally pop up: ribs, pork belly, and duck. Tonight I fancied trying duck fondue, and I had seen a place with it the night before. It was delicious, a Parisian must, and as a bonus they had an excellent avocado and crawfish appetizer. On our walk back we saw the place we were always dreaming about: Italian gelato and creperie. I got just gelato (three fruit flavors), but I knew we would be back the next night. It was a long day with a lot of walking (I think this day we walked 12.2 miles according to Madelaine's iPhone), but it was another great adventure with lots of discoveries and fun.

Wednesday was to be the most relaxed day, when we would get to everything we didn't get to the first 2.5 days. My run took me over to the right bank to try to find as much of the park land I could. First I tripped and fell over a divider on the main road that side while crossing without a cross walk (a lesson learned the hard way, kids). I was not hurt badly and not bleeding, and fortunately there were no cars coming. I kept at it and ran around the far side of the Louvre (it is nice back there) and into the gardens there. They connect to the Tuileries and that garden had wide, long straightaways, perfect for speedwork. I reached the Ferris wheel and it was far enough I had to turn around. I did my drills and some good sprints on the dirt paths and headed back.

It was a beautiful morning, bright sunshine and a bit warmer. Our first stop was the Luxembourg Gardens, only a short walk from the hotel on the way to the Catacombs. The gardens were pleasant, populated with many runners and some exercise equipment (more pull up bars, but, alas, didn't open until 8am). We diverted some into the Latin Quarter again delaying some, but got to the line for the Catacombs at about 9:30. We were entertained in line by an Englishman (who now lived in Germany) and his two amusing children. We finally got in about 10:30, heading down yet another tight spiral staircase. The Catacombs were used to store bones and extend over a large, subterranean area (the path we walked was over a mile long). The first part is bone-free. Then the stacks of bones on both sides start: skulls on top and in the middle with femurs between, so many you cannot believe it.

We came out fairly far away and it took a while to walk back to the entrance area. From there we went to the Cemetery of Montparnasse, which has the tombs of several famous people (Beckett, anyone?) and handy toilets. Now our goal was the Rodin Museum, but we walked along the quiet side street right into a great French market. Madelaine bought some gifts while we endured the smell of the fish stands. We emerged from there into a big shopping area and multi road intersection where we stopped for lunch. It looked like a perfect spot, but then people sat right below us on the porch and smoked nearly the whole time with a cigarette held up just so the wind could blow it on me. Still it was a good lunch for people watching (I wish I'd taken a picture of the one old man with long, gray hair dressed all in denim) and we were then off again.

The main road from there took us between the building complex known as Invalides, part museum and old hospital for the war wounded (and home of Napoleon's tomb) and the Rodin Museum. We only had time for Rodin and it was well spent. After a brief exhibit on artists influenced by the great sculptor, we headed to his home, which was very nice and had his plaster models of many of his great works in the various rooms as well as his nice paintings. After that we headed to the gardens which had his sculptures scattered about. It was extra nice on such a beautiful day to see great art in a setting like this. Madelaine really liked it. It was also very peaceful.

We found our way to the banks of the Seine again to get to the Musee d'Orsay. This is the more modern art museum in contrast to the Louvre with an emphasis on the high point of French art, the Impressionists. The building is fascinating, an old train station converted to a museum with huge spaces, clocks and a high ceiling. It was not crowded this late in the day and we did well to cover nearly all of it in 2 hours, skipping only a special exhibit on Rousseau. Famous paintings were abundant, and they had very nice sculptures, too. I resisted the urge to take many photos there.

We walked back to the hotel. My feet were the sorest they were for the whole trip. Dinner that night was at a place called Le Bourbon, where I got a goat cheese salad (you cannot go wrong with goat cheese), a nice piece of salmon, and an elaborately named French dessert that was essentially a chocolate ice cream sundae. I was excited to get back to our Italian gelato place, and I was elated after finishing my crepe with scoops of salted caramel and cinnamon gelato with caramel sauce and whipped cream. It must have been 1200 calories, but it went down easily.

Madelaine did some evening shopping, going to H&M, which is apparently a chain in the US as well and which has very cheap clothes that seem well made (since I have read about their role in the sweatshops that collapsed in Bangladesh). I felt like this was the day we walked the most, but the iPhone said that was the day we were at the Louvre (I think). We still covered at least 10 miles.

That night, our last in Paris, as I wrote in my journal I tried to remember the things we'd say during the day that made us laugh. The most common was in reference to the crosswalk signs. We called the green light walking figure the "green man", occasionally Frenchifying it by calling it "L'homme vert" or "Le vert homme", which may or may not be correct. The main saying was, "Never waste a green man." If you are at an intersection, go wherever the green man will take you next.

Second, a tradition I developed with Kelsey O'Rourke in Italy was our checklist before leaving a hotel for the day. That included the "Grammy check" which was to make sure all the lights were turned off, in reference to my mother's energy consciousness. Next was the "Pappy check" which I started because my father would always make sure I had the keys when we left our B&Bs in Ireland. "Kelsey check" was next, to make sure the door was shut, since she didn't close it correctly twice when we were in Florence. We added the "Madelaine check," which was to take one last look in the mirror to make sure your outfit looked perfect, and the "Uncle Terry check," to make sure everyone had made all the necessary toilet trips before leaving.

Kelsey had told Madelaine Amsterdam, our destination the next day, was in Belgium, so we also tended to switch those two countries around intentionally in our discussions. I mentioned "the Nectar of the Gods," which came up often when tasting beverages, and another frequent reference was to a vendor who was selling foot massages on the street ("I could use a street foot massage right now."). While waiting in line, Madelaine often squatted down to rest, especially when there were no benches around (she plans to produce a book called "Diary of a Bench Enthusiast: the Benches of Paris and Amsterdam" with photos taken by me of her sitting on benches).

Our last morning in Paris again started with a run, and I managed not to fall. I did get a bit lost near the Plaza de Madeleine while looking for the park along the Champs Elysee, but I got back to the river side gym to do three sets of pull ups (again, there were three guys there, but not the same three). We had enough time for one more walk around, so we headed to the right bank to see the Tower of St. Jacques, which turned out to be in a nice little park. It is the only remaining part of a huge church destroyed during the French Revolution and is now a national monument, a quite nice one at that. We then passed the Museum of Modern Art, which is pretty funky looking, but we did not go in. We had a tough time even with the good map of finding our way back to the Ile de St. Louis in pursuit of more chocolate. Time was getting tight, but the chocolate shop didn't open until 10:30, so we had 30 minutes to kill. We wandered to the river and found benches to sit on and admire Notre Dame and the activities along the river. They opened the store a few minutes early and we were out of there with lots of goodies by 10:35 and rushing back to the hotel.  We were ready to leave when Madelaine noticed my black shoes hiding in a dark corner - good save - and then we were down to checkout.

We had tickets for the 12:15 train from Paris Nord to Amsterdam, so we needed to get to Paris Nord from St. Michel. I mentioned it to the clerk and he told us the metro would be much faster than the RER, and it was super fast, so we had a long time to stand around there. On the way, while we were rushing, we'd bought paninis to eat on the train (only 8.5 euros for both!). When we got to the Nord station, a nice old lady who was watching us showed us where to go, but we still needed to ask directions two more times to find the right train. They had metal detectors and screeners in place which slowed boarding a bit, but we still left on time.

I was looking forward to a nice, peaceful ride, but a woman with a toddler took the seats right in front of us (as it turned out, and so often does, they took the wrong seats, but it wouldn't have mattered in the end, as their actual seats were right behind us), and it quickly became clear this was a toddler who never was awake and quiet at the same time. He never shut up the whole ride, mostly using his outside voice singing and asking questions. At one point I did doze off, helped by the pure tedium of his chatter, but at the first stop, I got my iPod out of my backpack, which I'd put overhead, and cranked it up so I wouldn't have to hear him as much. It also didn't help that two other nearby passengers had megaphone coughs. Thankfully the child and his mother got off in Rotterdam, so the last portion of the trip was a bit more relaxing.

Amsterdam Centraal is not the most welcoming port of call. There is little signage of use. We tried to buy train tickets on our own, but it was impossible and we finally, with some guidance, found the correct place to queue up for local transport tickets. The woman explained they did have a variety of lump sum transport packages, but she told us we would be able to get them at the Sloterdijk station next to our hotel, so we bought one way tickets there and found a train heading that way (not hard to do). There was a place you could sit with your bags, and it only took 5 minutes, so we were good.

A view of the bike parking lot at Sloterdijk Station

Nearly the first thing anyone with 5 senses would notice on hitting the streets of Amsterdam and its vicinity is the bikes. They are everywhere in massive numbers and nearly every one of them is an old-fashioned, pedal-brakes model with one gear. I never got over that every moment we were out and about. I am not sure what drives this bike selection, whether it be their simplicity, their cost, or if it is somehow ironic and cool (the least likely explanation, I am sure). Just outside of Centraal Station in Amsterdam is a 3 level lot for bikes that must hold 30,000 bikes at any given time. How you would find yours amidst them one can only wonder.

I was sure I was going to be run over by a cyclist during my three days in Amsterdam, but it did not happen. I was only "Hmmmmphed" by a cyclist who wanted me out of her way one time. The walk to our hotel was relatively safe from bike collisions. Did I mention it was right next to the train station? Less than a minute walking? We checked in after ascending to reception from the 1st floor (zero on the elevator) entryway, and we scored some maps, including one showing a nearby running park (Westpark for you in the know).

After getting to our room and arranging the beds (they always had the twin beds pushed together) and our bags (this room was much larger than the one at the Hotel du Lys), we debated our next move. There were two restaurants within a minute's stroll from the hotel, but the center city beckoned and we did not have that many nights there. We decided to take a train back into the city and get the train/bus/tram/metro ticket combo pack before going.

The five minute train ride into the city was over 2 euros each. We unfortunately had to pay that again for a round trip, as the nice men at the Sloterdijk ticket office could not sell us the comprehensive travel package. We took the train to the central station and lined up again and got the same woman at a different desk to sell us the comprehensive package. The most interesting part of the whole train expense was that AT NO POINT was it necessary to have a ticket to take a train. Apparently, they only check sporadically, and it is just enough that most people buy the tickets. The three day pass doesn't activate until you use it the first time, so it was perfect to start the day tomorrow.

The next thing you would notice about central Amsterdam is it is CROWDED. We arrived there after 5:30 on a Thursday and it was reminiscent of Manhattan near Times Square. Dealing with the people and the bikes and the various lanes for buses was diverting. We followed the flow of people up one street and into a pedestrian alley that was lined with restaurants, specialty shops and pubs. The third thing you notice in the crowds is how many people are openly smoking marijuana. This was a huge annoyance to me and takes Amsterdam down a few pegs overall, along with the general rudeness of the cigarette smokers who held their burning cigarettes out away from their own faces into those around them (if you eat outside in Paris or Amsterdam, you will be tormented by clouds of noxious smoke, guaranteed).

We were hungry and our main mission was finding a place to eat. Argentinian steakhouses were ubiquitous, but I am not much for steak and neither was Madelaine. We went all the way along this alley/walkway to its end at the Dam Plaza, a big central open area, covered with cobblestones, where everyone seemed to be in about the same situation we were, thinking about what to do. I wanted to find some "traditional" Dutch food, the kind you would only find in Holland, so we walked all the way back to the first place on the corner that had that on its signs. When we walked in, we were surprised to see we were the only customers. It was otherwise a very attractive, modern place, and the short, Asian waiter took us to a far table where only Madelaine could see anything (I could only see Madelaine and the wall behind her). He was very friendly and helpful and made the meal twice as nice.  I got a smoked salmon appetizer that was beautiful and delicious, and Madelaine got a baked cheese dish she loved. I then ate a vegetarian risotto that was even better than the appetizer, and I was able to enjoy a lot of Madelaine's large seafood salad.

We passed on their desserts to head back in the alley to a place that was called the Ice Bakery and had ice cream and baked goods. There was a line, but I finally got to the counter and asked if I could get ice cream on a waffle, and the answer was in the affirmative. I ordered pear and banana ice cream on a waffle covered in thick chocolate syrup and whipped cream, and I ate it with a special plastic fork that had a serrated edge on it. It was surely more calories than any single item one could order at the Bloomsburg Fair. It took about 30 minutes for me to eat as we walked around, going too near the red light district for Madelaine's comfort (turns out we weren't that close). I eventually ate some of Madelaine's pistachio ice cream cone as well.

Nothing like this should be allowed in central Pennsylvania

After all that eating and walking we took the train back and were in the hotel within 10 minutes of deciding to leave center city. It was still light out well after 9pm, and we went to bed with the sun still up.

We wanted to be at the museums (the art museums are all in one area, called the Museumplein) by 9am so I got up just before 6am for my run. I followed the bike paths away from the hotel in the direction the desk clerk had told me the day before, and soon I was on some dirt paths around swampland and then passed more outdoor gym equipment (more pull up bars!!). It was very pleasant, and there were only a few bikers and a few more runners about.

We had a problem the opposite of Kelsey and me in Rome - the shower was too hot and I could never figure out how to cool it down (Madelaine did). They had muesli for breakfast, so I was excited about that, and then we headed to the lower level of the hotel to catch the tram with our 3 day passes (that come with maps - European public transportation is to die for). It is not the most obvious set up, but someone told us the museum stop was closed so we had been detoured, and the stop we got off at was pretty close. I was bracing myself for a long line, but we were able to walk right inside and get a ticket to the Rijksmuseum with no wait at all.

The Rijksmuseum has a reputation of having the finest in Dutch art. I thought the collection would be huge, but we were through it in no time, and it would have gone even faster except for my selfie penchant, and none of them turned out well (maybe Kelsey is correct). The prime paintings were the Nightwatch by Rembrandt and several small Vermeers. Nightwatch is indeed fantastic, with all the little details Rembrandt (my favorite painter) is known for. The rest of the paintings were nice, but we were out of there in an hour.

Outside, on the museumplein, is a nice little pond with an I AMSTERDAM sign at the Rijksmuseum side of it. Lots of people were posing, and we joined them. From there we went across the park area to the Van Gogh Museum. This was the only line we waited in, and it wasn't long. Security was blessedly light and the collection impressive and well-organized chronologically, with lots of good information about Vincent, his family, and his influences. The best thing was no photos allowed, which helped things move faster, though still many people were standing around with their audio guides. This took longer and we were done about 12:30, ready for lunch.

Earlier we'd walked by a nice cafe with lots of outdoor tables. I was worried it would take forever to eat there, having dealt with European style service for six days, but we went there anyway. And it worked like a Swiss watch. We sat down, got menus, then our order taken, and the drinks and then food brought within minutes, and everything was really good (I got a sandwich called the Amsterdam, which was whole grain bread, two slices of cheese, a fruity sauce and some nuts. Madelaine got a wrap that was equally delicious).

There was a show at the new museum called MOCO (turns out it was their very first show) about Banksy and Andy Warhol. It was very clever and we enjoyed it as our first stop after lunch. We were still a bit thirsty after and got bottles of Peach Tea and sat in the park for a spell. Once we were ready to move, we walked south to the road which ran next to the famous Concert Gebouw. We followed that west to the northern edge of the large city park Vondelpark.

There we sat on a bench and watched the people and their dogs, then we moved to a stone bridge and watched people and their dogs, then we walked what I thought was west and north and came out into a posh neighborhood which turned out was south and east of the park (I can't explain that one). We got a quick lesson in how the trams worked by a local who saved us an ill-conceived trip to one of the suburbs and instead walked half a block to a different stop that took us to the city center.

From there our goal was Anne Frank's house. I misread the map but it was still a nice area with a good sweet shop where I got a small cherry cheesecake and Madelaine a chocolate waffle. We then got our bearings and walked along one of the beautiful canals to the Frank house. This is one of the top attractions in the city, and it recently changed its ticket policy. Now until 3:30pm you could only get in with tickets bought online that were sold out weeks in advance. After 3:30, it was first come, first serve, and the line was the longest we saw while in Europe. I didn't care if we got in, and Madelaine was interested but had never read her diary (I've read a lot about her, but not her book), so we didn't even try to get in (I'm guessing it was nearly a 3 hour wait). Madelaine posed next to her house sign and we moved on, looking for a tram stop. While we were walking I spotted a Herring shop. These sell traditional herring and there are only a few places licensed to do so. There was no line, so I asked if I could get some herring now, and the young lady said, "Of course!" I got the smallest piece, which was tasty. Not really smoked, but slightly salty and otherwise appearing uncooked. Madelaine tried it, too, and agreed it wasn't bad at all.

We found a tram to the central station, but it stopped at the Dam plaza and made us all get off. I looked at the ECCO shoe store (the salesman didn't seem to care at all about making a sale) and stared long and hard at the Leica cameras before we made our way to the central station and took the train back to our hotel.

We needed some rest, but soon enough we were on our way back to the city to try to eat at one of the Argentinian restaurants that caught our eye. After overshooting, we found it and took a seat outside on the street. Soon a dozen loud Englishmen came and sat at the tables behind us, and then in a fuss, they were moved to the tables in front of us. It had been over twenty minutes and no one had talked to us since we'd asked where we could sit. With all the racket, their callous attitude towards us, and their pricey, mostly meat-based menu, I said, "if no one comes soon, I think we should leave." No one did in the next five minutes, so we got up and left, something I have hardly ever done. There was a much cheaper Argentinian restaurant in a nice plaza nearby, so I sat outside there while Madelaine went to the bathroom. It got super windy, so I decided we should eat inside just as Madelaine came back and told me she'd gone into the wrong restaurant to the bathroom. it was easily the worst meal we had: overcooked empanadas and a vegetarian plate that was as boring as something like that sounds. Madelaine got seared tuna, which was alright. We were both pretty full, so we only got an eclair on our walk back to the central station.

Our last full day in Amsterdam began at 6am for me as I got up to run. I headed back to the running park and did sprints on an oval walkway around a small pond that had a sculpture of a headless bride in it. It was almost exactly 400meters around. After that I ran to the outdoor exercise equipment and did three sets of pull ups and dips and then went to another site to do some back exercises before running back for a total of 5 miles.

This morning we took the train to the central station and caught the Metro for the first time. We got off at the Opera House area and walked to the Rembrandt House Museum. Again, there was no line. We were the first ones there. Madelaine was disappointed there were no benches, but there were some steps we sat on while the staff of the museum came out for a group smoke (all 4 of them!) before going in and opening all the windows on the house and finally letting us in. There was a free audioguide with our ticket. We started in the basement and worked our way up to the small studio on the top floor. It was nice: short on Rembrandts, but nice paintings and set up. I'd hoped to see their collection of his famous etchings, but alas, no. They did have a nice store and a dream souvenir for me: a jigsaw puzzle (1000 pieces) of an etching of a drawbridge for only 14.75euros! Madelaine bought a nice t shirt, so now we had a bag to carry the rest of the day.

It was a short walk from there to the Hermitage Amsterdam. This museum was much more locally focused, with its main show on the many group portraits of various guilds and organizations in the 1600s there. They were really nice paintings and the exhibits told us a lot about how the city worked, how the rich got together and made sure everyone had a place to stay and food to eat. They even had a light show in one large gallery that was nice. It was a very pleasing morning.

We planned on lunch on the nearby Rembrandtplein, a square surrounded by restaurants. We chose wisely and sat outside at a nice and only moderately busy place with good views. We got carbonated iced tea (not bad) and I had an excellent goat cheese salad and Madelaine got her own Amsterdam cheese sandwich. In the square there was a sculptural representation of the Night Watch painting and people were posing among the figures. We quickly did our part and then set out for our next stop, the Torture Museum.

It is important to make note at this point I could not find our really detailed map of Amsterdam in the morning. On that I had marked out all our stops for the day. I thought I would be able to get us where we needed to go with the sketchy other map we had, but it was sorely lacking in street names in the neighborhoods we were exploring. We got pretty off track after leaving the Rembrandtplein, taking the wrong bridge. From there I missed a crucial street names and we ended up taking about 20 minutes longer to find the Torture Museum. Turns out we would have been better off doing something else. It was a moderately diverting educational survey of torture techniques. There was an 8x10 paper with small type reviewing in six languages the torture device, which was usually represented in some form in a case, and this was augmented by old style drawings of the device in use. There were just enough people trying to read the fine print that it took a while. I'd hoped for more abuse to be heaped on such chickenhawk/torture wimps like George W. Bush and Dick Cheney, but they were not even named. People have done some awful things to each other over the centuries. This museum seemed to emphasize more lethal means than torture per se, but perhaps I am being too analytical. At least it wasn't expensive.

The weather was spectacular that day, getting into the low 70s with bright sun. It enhanced the surroundings a lot. We had been dealing with big crowds the last few hours, and things got worse as we tried to get to a special chocolate shop (Urban Cacao) in an area called the Nine Streets west of the town center. We had a devil of a time finding the shop with our map, but Madelaine finally logged onto free wifi and looked it up online. We were the only ones when we got there and started snacking on their super tasty brownies (the caramel one was nearly as good as a Stamey). I was eating a brownie with my back turned when about 7 people came in at once and dominated the two servers (both older men) for several minutes until we made our final purchases, and I think we ended up getting our initial snacks free. Whether that was the case, we certainly paid enough, and he gave me a nut brownie instead of a second caramel one in my to go order. I have been enjoying the chocolate we bought on a regular basis since returning.

Our final goal that afternoon was a canal cruise. We needed to get back to the central station area, so we found a tram stop that would go there, but the first three trams either didn't stop or were too full. The fourth got us near the front of the line, but it took until the fifth one for us to get on, and we were jammed in. The rear conductor was trying to get people to move further into car to make room and even shoved me at one point, but after three or four stops the car thinned out some. The streets were absolutely packed; there was no room to stand or walk on either side. We got off at central station and I started to go where I knew there were canal cruises when Madelaine noticed one right next to where we were standing. We got in line and paid right before getting on. I forgot my coupon that would have saved us 6 euros. Sigh. We made a bad decision about where to sit, taking a bench seat in the back in the middle, and that was the place with the worst access to photo ops, especially when the rude Asian man towards the back stood up most of the ride blocking any view we had from the back of the boat. Madelaine aggressively moved about and got some good shots. I only took a short video and had one shot ruined when the man stood up.

Tired of all the people, we went right to the train station to head back to the hotel. It would have been the usual 10 minutes to get back, but the train sat just short of the station 13 minutes. We were happy to be back to the blissful suburbs and vowed not to go back to the city center any more. I'd formed another plan on the way back. Since the city was so pretty outside the center, we would take the tram to an outer stop and find a place to eat there and have a walk around. We got off where I wanted and had a nice stroll, passing up the chance to eat at a restaurant that also looked like it doubled as a nursing home, and eventually came upon an appealing place called Foodism. There were plenty of seats inside though it was small, so we took a spot along the wall. They said they served small portions, like a tapas bar, and that each person would want three to five dishes. They were not cheap, but I ordered four: avocado and crawfish salad (a great combo!!); couscous with dried fruit and nuts (excellent spices); delicious eggplant parmesan (the sauce was so good!), and a pastry stuffed with veggies and mozzarella cheese. They were nowhere near as small as I thought and I could barely get them down with no room for dessert. By the time we were done they were turning people away. It was a really great meal, as good as anything I've had. We had a nice stroll about until a tram finally came. There was an interesting tableau at the tram stop across from ours, as an African man with a cane who walked slowly repeatedly could not make it to the tram in time before it left as they all kept stopping past the waiting area. One time he stood banging on the windows as it pulled off.

We packed quickly and went to bed. We had to leave too early for me to get up to run, but everything from there went super smooth: caught the train to the airport no problem, got checked in and through security easily, had an uneventful flight (it was an old plane without seat back TVs), and got there early, through passport without ugly photos, and to the car, which started right up without problems.

Obviously, Paris and Amsterdam are world class metropolitan areas. They are both easy to walk and travel in and have lots to see and do, with Paris stronger there. I would have to rate the three Italian cities I visited in January a bit ahead, just because of a little more appealing history and better topography, but both of these cities have lots to recommend them. Both would be better off with stricter smoking regulations.

One of my best ideas has been these post-graduation trips with my nieces and nephews. I have enjoyed each of the trips and they have each reflected their personalities. Andrew's trip to Patagonia was very challenging travel and conditions, which was good for us men, and Kelsey and I had a great time bopping through Italy. This trip was also a roaring success. I still smile at all the fun and adventure we had. Madelaine is a great travel companion, with a good attitude and sense of humor and not inclined to stay out late or generate drama. I hope I have triggered a traveling jones similar to my own in each of them and maybe they will include me in a future adventure while paying their own ways...