SuperBOWL

No problem with servers being busy this evening. The world is watching the Big Game. It is on in front of me as well, but my laptop is handily in between me and the screen.

As a rule, I don't give a flyin' rip about football. It is far too overrated in my less than humble opinion. If it were 'just a game,' it would be OK, but it has become an altar with many, many worshipers falling on their knees before the football gods. We are created to worship something. For far too many, teams and players and coaches and games have become a problematic focus of that worship.

I didn't really open up my computer to climb onto a soap box, but that IS my general attitude towards what should be 'just a game.'

What I thought about posting on my FB status report was about the half time show: "Spectacle. Another instance when I find myself embarrassed to be a citizen of a certain country."

I admit, I'm not a fan of the Black Eyed Peas. I'm not a fan of Usher. I am even less a fan of crotch grabbing. I am also not a fan of bad art which is what the show was in my less than humble opinion. As an American it's tough to be associated with spectacles and bad art which are so publicly put on display for the world to see.

That aside, in the mid winter, every year, an Occasion for Gathering Together is created with the SuperBOWL. For many, like me, the gathering together is more important than worshiping at the in-zone altar. Tonight I am not part of a gathering, which is right for this year too. Meanwhile, all over the country small and large gatherings are full of fun, food and football. For me, therein lies a slice of redemption in an otherwise overblown cultural event.

(I had better wrap it up so I can watch the game...)

On the Road Again

Half a year. That's the last time I posted anything on my blog. It's time to START AGAIN. They say that you can't become a writer if you read about how to write. You can only become a writer if you write. At one level, I know this. At another level, I ignore it. Am I destined to be a writer? Unlikely, but possible (IF you can be destined to be anything in your early 50s!)… Would I LIKE to be a writer? I suppose so.

It was a great encouragement to hear from two friends after the writing of our 2010 Christmas letter: "When are you going to start writing on your blog again. I miss it." And, "You're a really good writer." (Never mind the fact that said reader has only read like, one thing I've ever written… but I was flattered and motivated, nonetheless.)

Which brings me to today—On the Road Again.

I won't recount the collective details of the radical travel calendar of our immediate family, but I will say that today I'm sitting in one of my childhood homes with my mom. I have been making more frequent trips here for all the right reasons. But "here" is still a rather obscure location when it comes to the Grand Travel Plan of America's airlines. It is simply hard to get here… from, well, most anyplace. Thus, I experienced a fleeting sense of discouragement when after boarding my first plane this morning, sipping from my water bottle and settling in to read the paper, the kind lady next to me informed me that we all needed to deplane. Unfixable mechanical problems. First time I have ever had to step off the plane immediately after boarding. But, better that option than sitting on the tarmac for four hours.

I was already in what I refer to as "Travel Zen," but this sent me in deeper. For me "Travel Zen" simply refers to the manner in which I move through time and space knowing I have either little or no control over the timing and circumstances and therefore it is useless and completely counterproductive to get stressed out over anything. I become a semi pleasant zombie-like adult who is going with the flow. I have traveled this way for many years. I nearly always arrive at my destination, though not always at the appointed time. Along the way, there are people to meet and discoveries to be made. Though, honestly, flying between a Midwestern hub and the Destination the Airlines Forgot, I didn't expect too many discoveries. I was right. The ones I did make were:

• Wearing a turtleneck and 650 down filled vest was the wrong idea. Dead of winter or not. The change in gates and airline assignments after we had to deplane, meant I had to hoof it to the Very Last Gate in the entire airport. I arrived in time, but a sweaty mess. And I had to do this in not one, but two airports, resulting in two sweaty mess episodes.
  
• Just because you get dropped off at the terminal where there is a covering doesn't mean you won't be subject to climbing up and down stairs and traipsing through slush, snow, ice and thick salt to board, unboard, reboard, unboard, etc…. I was a small, salt covered dripping mess three times. There were no covered walkways to be seen on these little commercial, go-out-onto-the-tarmac-to-find-the plane routes.
  
• Propeller planes require that everyone sit in the back to provide ballast for the heavier front of the plane. All 10 of us. Back rows.
  
• Propeller planes on commercial routes in the dead of winter are likely to result in crabby flight attendants.
  
• Traveling with a 17" laptop is a royal pain. In order to justify that royal pain, it is necessary to update one's blog.
  
• Arrival and Departure monitors must be really, really expensive since airports now seem to use them very judiciously. I used to be able to use these handy devices to maneuver my way around airports, but alas, there were none to be found today. Maybe this was a cruel joke because I was heading for the Destination the Airlines Forgot. Oh.
  
• Travel Zen, a bag of Trader Joe's trail mix and a good book are all you really need when you're on the road again.
  

 

Je Taime Paris

Oh, I know enough French to know there is an apostrophe in the title; but using a French keyboard presently is limiting me as I cannot find all the keys I need! Such a dificile problem in Paris! I am sitting in the hotel lobby with the warm breezes wafting in the door and the world passing by the window in front of me!

Such a city! I have not been here for 30 years and I recall almost nothing from that visit, so happily I am encountering this tres beau city for the first time in most ways. Full of history; wrought iron balcony railings, motorbikes and stinky cheese; the world gathers here and I have been taking great delight in the entirety of it.

Today we wandered Le Louvre. One could spend a lifetime there, of course. It is massive. I think I enjoyed the palace itself as much as the works. I do, however, get more tired in two hours in an art museum than I do in eight hours trekking. My apologies to my artist friends, who are numerous, but I have little stamina for the marvels of paint; brush and chisel. One thing I have noticed in the "relaxed" world of Europe (machine guns in the train station aside), they let the world get CLOSE to the art. We could touch nearly everything save the Mona Lisa, though, of course; we did not. The Rodin pieces one can breathe on and Michelangelos marble could be experienced not just seen if one so desired. Amazing.

The beauty of the city truly is unequaled. Artistic flair is everywhere and a delight for the senses. I find myself enjoying the store windows ( though I have not walked the Champs Elysses) as much as the stone carvings above the doorways. Cest tres stunning!

The two of us have become three with the addition of Ellie who we gathered to us at the airport this morning. An adventure of its own. We will find ourselves at a cafe soon watching the world stroll by.

When can I move?

On The Train

Zooming past the green and brown sheep laden English countryside. I so love absorbing the scenery and the culture! Little things are my favorite to notice ... The chimneys, taxis, clothes on my fellow travels, all the bicycles parked here at the York station. Though I also notice the cathedrals in the small towns and castle ruins strewn about . Definitely not the States!

Yesterday we were traveling by the sea cliffs. A treat I did not expect. We were met at the Newcastle station by my English friend from 30 years ago, Andy. What a delightful evening to dine with them in their home .. A three story town home built longbefore anything in Ohio! Full of stained glass and modern amenities with the exception of napkins. I am a messy eater I guess as I require napkins !

But, I digress. We looked at photos of us together as 20 year olds and compared empty nest notes. What a gift of time.

Alas. If I keep up my one finer iPod touch blogging I shall miss the sheep of a thousand hills. Paris tonight.

Sticks and Stones

Twelve miles today. The scenery was stunning and stark at the same time. The Way has been mostly on old roads and so extremely easy to follow MOST of the time. Today was all retired Drovers Paths or something like that. So, nice to look around at the foggy Munros. The hike was all along a boggy moor. Stick to the path or you might not be found again until the next ice age uncovered your well preserved body in a peat bog!

It's a bit like a highway out there which has been quite delightful. You end up hiking all alone, but with the same folks at the same time. Leap frogging, chatting, taking photos of each other
and then meeting for a pint (or a cup of tea or an Irn Bru -- which I have not tried yet) at the pub in the hotel after the day's journey is done.

Make your miles. Get a shower. Eat. Sleep. Do it all again the next day. Nice rhythm actually!

The sticks: necessary for me to make it down the rocky paths and back up again.
The stones: rough under foot and so you find yourself carefully placing each step to preserve the integrity of your sole. Soul?

72 miles completed! Two more days of walking. One holds the "Devil's Staircase". I trust I will still sleep well knowing this...

The Gospel According to Scots

We have been hiking along the Way with "The Four Scots". Met them in their matching attire at our first hotel, in fact and then again along the path the first day. After arriving wet and happy to the Bridge of Orchy yesterday afternoon, we finally spent some time together eating soup in the pub! It was great fun too...

One highlight, thanks to Joch (that is how'd you say Jack, though he introduced himself as John), was the telling of the Gospel According to Scots. NO, he didn't call it that... it was merely a bar joke, really, accompanied by the two whisky glasses he got for Dave so he could try a "peaty whisky" (which tastes like wood smoke from the bog) and a more chipper one with hints of cherries... some would say. (But what would I know!)

Anyway... the Gospel involved a truck driver and a priest; one buying the bulk of the pints and shots for the other to earn tickets to heaven. A necessary and added benefit of this particular Gospel presentation is the little carefully folded paper that gets torn and turned into tickets.

In the end at the pearly gates, the priest has little pieces of paper that turn into a word. What word do you THINK you can tear into pieces after a couple of pints, anyway? That's right: HELL. Meanwhile, the truck driver ends up with a very nicely torn celtic cross.

My life in Scotland.
Pictures when I can post em.

Meanwhile. We are at the Kingshouse Hotel waiting for them to crest the hill so we can meet them outside with pints! :) New friends!

Laughing in the Rain

Ah.... we just popped off the trail, over 50 miles into our 95 miles, to a lovely hotel where we can relax for day and evening! It is our "Rest Day" ! Only seven miles today. Glorious! And, 2/3 of it in the pouring rain. I was laughing because this is how we happily CHOOSE to spend our vacation! Walking in the hills of Scotland with the wind and rain lashing us at 25 mph, the munros (look it up!) shrouded in clouds. Perfect. OK, not quite perfect, but it kept us smiling today.

First day with internet service for the past three. I shall take advantage of it and see if I can even get some photos on once our luggage arrives. We carry just what we need for the day and when we arrive at our accomodations, we find our luggage either in our room or some shed from which we lug it to our room. The system is common and works quite well.

We are so far the only Americans we have encountered on the trail. My new best friend is actually named "Leki". Without her assistance, I could not have made the way along Loch Lomond. And, L.L. Bean has been quite friendly to me as well. So nice to have these traveling companions. (OK... Leki "sticks", as people call them along the trail.)

David Hughes of Shrewesbury, England, bought us a pint the other evening at Drovers Inn. He's an accomplished mountaineer.. even traveling on a trek to China with that kid who's trying to climb all the world's highest peaks before he reaches puberty. (An arrogant, rich kid, David added). He was one of our best "mates" thus far. The others have been from Australia, UK, New Zealand, Germany, Sweden and Netherlands. All kinds of fun conversations in the pubs. Just as we expected.

My hearing aid decided to go on the fritz this morning, so my life in Europe is a bit more silent thus far today. Perhaps it is just the 94% humidity from yesterday? I don't know. But, that's one tiny glitch so far... (other than my nearing a bit to close to the edge of a waterfall yesterday, but that's another story).

So, alas. We are warm and almost dry at the Bridge of Orchy Hotel. Can't wait for our room to be ready and our luggage to get here! My boots need to be removed. Time for a well deserved lunch. I shall be back if I can snag the computer again later today.

Bye Lassies and Lads...