Saturday, September 1, 2007

2007 Gichi Gummi


Debbie and I had always wanted to drive all the way around Lake Superior. Going around the world’s largest freshwater lake would have been a long way from where we lived in Farmington Hills, Michigan. But from our Ohio home it would really be a fur piece. Regardless of the starting point, we hadn’t thought about it for a long while. Then came the dueling weddings and all the hoopla. Then came the cleanup and then came the “what’re we gonna do now?” question.

So Saturday came the wedding (the last one – the Cleveland version), Sunday came the propovini breakfast, and Monday came the cleanup and the question. Surprisingly, the same answer came back to both of us independently: Circumnavigate Gichi Gumi. After a brief discussion Monday morning, and some last minute packing and putting up of garden produce, we did something we never, ever, ever do: started a several-day road trip on the spur of the moment. We always plan things out way in advance; this time we were impulsive and spontaneous.

Only made it as far as Mt. Pleasant, Michigan after 5 hours of driving Monday afternoon and evening. At the Mackinac Bridge we would need to decide whether to head clockwise or counter-clockwise around the lake. Debbie said clockwise would be better so that we could make all right hand turns. I couldn’t stop laughing. Not that she was wrong; it’s just that it’s a big lake.

Counter-clockwise it was. 50+ miles north of the bridge we crossed over the Sault Ste. Marie straights into Canada. Since the Soo is the eastern end Gichi Goomi, I had assumed that we’d start traveling west soon thereafter. But noooo. We continued north along the lakeshore for many, many more miles. This part of Canada is strikingly beautiful. The views of the lake are great, and there are hills that are nearly mountains everywhere. The best part is Lake Superior Provincial Park. In the park, Agawa bay and Agawa rock were great places to stop.

After 10 hours of driving, and stopping and walking and gawking along the way, we made it to the hamlet of Marathon and a no-tell mo-tell for the night.

I don’t know why, but I had always been fascinated with Thunder Bay, Ontario. Nothing particular, just the concept of it. A remote city on the north shore of Lake Superior. And that name! Well, it is remote. And the name is still cool. But nothing really special about the town itself. Some industry and a tiny bit of history. Did I mention remote?

The drive through Canada continued to be beautiful, even though there was a rare all-day fog. The 160 miles from the US border to Duluth were also pretty, but eventually not quite as nice as the Canadian shores. Duluth itself is a very nice town though. After being lost for a bit, we found the harbor-front, ate, had ice cream, and a very nice long walk.

The next day we drove the entire length, and then even the width, of the U.P. Then we went on to drive back to Mt. Pleasant for our last night. Start to finish, that amounted to 14 ½ hours in the car, but you’d have to subtract two hours or so for sightseeing. But that sightseeing was great. We visited Holland Lake to bring back camping memories – more for Debbie, but for me as well. We’ve seen it when it’s quite deserted, but there were 5-6 camping parties around. The worst part is the Off-Road Vehicles. They ruined the place for us, esthetically speaking. Other than that, the place looked about the same. Debbie says she won’t need to see it again. We’ll see.

Along the way, we stopped for Grandma T’s pasties. They were filling!

Munising was beautiful as always. Some day I’d like to see the Pictured Rocks. We never seem to have the time.

Our last stop before heading back down was Whitefish Point and Whitefish Bay. There we toured the lighthouse and the connected living quarters. The highlight there is the shipwreck museum. There they have the bell from the Edmund Fitzgerald along with information and artifacts from several other area wrecks. Of course we’d been listening to The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, by Gordon Lightfoot over and over, and of course they played it there, over and over. Sidenote: in November, 1975 I was in Atlanta on a business trip, when a hurricane came up from the gulf and (the remnants) went over our heads, heading north. It didn’t rain much, but I was fascinated by the clouds. This was the same storm that wrecked the Edmund Fitzgerald.

We looked out onto Gichi Gummi one last time (there’s a nice beach there), and then headed back.

We made 2,200 miles total.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.

With a load of iron ore - 26,000 tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go it was bigger than most
With a crew and the Captain well seasoned.

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ships bell rang
Could it be the North Wind they'd been feeling.

The wind in the wires made a tattletale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the Captain did, too,
T'was the witch of November come stealing.

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashing
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane West Wind

When supper time came the old cook came on deck
Saying fellows it's too rough to feed ya
At 7PM a main hatchway caved in
He said fellas it's been good to know ya.

The Captain wired in he had water coming in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the words turn the minutes to hours
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd fifteen more miles behind her.

They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the ruins of her ice water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams,
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.

And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral
The church bell chimed, 'til it rang 29 times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
Superior, they say, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early

2007 Dan in Lisbon


I arrived in the morning on the Sunday before work. Since the afternoon was free, colleague David and I took a cruise on the Tagus River. It was nice and peaceful. The river opens up to a large bay, so it seems extremely wide.

We saw many fine sights. I had seen many of the same things from shore during my previous trip, but it was nice to see them by boat as well. Some of them were:
· The Parque Noches area, which has extremely modern architecture and is where my client's office is and where a triathlon was in progress. We could see the runners along the shore.
· The Tower of Belem - a castle guarding the mouth of the river.
· The 25th of April Bridge, a replica of the Golden Gate Bridge.
· The Statue of Jesus Christ, a replica of the one in Rio de Janeiro
· Other neat stuff.
Almost every day brings fish for lunch and then fish for dinner. Not that I’m complaining; the food’s great. Like the Spanish, the Portuguese like to have huge lunches, and then small dinners late in the evening. Of course this means that I have huge lunches AND huge dinners to go along with my huge breakfasts. Thank goodness the dinners aren’t quite so late as for Spain – I haven’t had to wait until 8:30 for dinner yet.

But back to the fish: here’s how it goes every time. They place a huge chunk of fish in front of me. It takes up the whole plate, and it looks and smells great. Without thinking, (my brain shuts down whenever there’s food to be had), I slice a big piece and get it into my mouth as quickly as possible. And then, “Aaaargh – what’s all this hard, sharp stuff?” And then I spit out the bones as delicately and politely as is possible, which it isn’t. I wish I had a euro for every fishbone I’ve eaten on this trip.

Once upon a time, a lady appeared to 3 children, told them she was the Virgin Mary, and made some predictions that may have come true, depending on your belief system, and where you heard about it. Each year many thousands of pilgrims converge on Fatima on May 13 to commemorate the anniversary of the first appearance. They actually arrive the previous day in order to take part in all the activities and to watch the procession that night.

So there I was, a pilgrim converging upon Fatima on May 12, just like the 500,000 other pilgrims. This wasn’t just any anniversary either; this was a special one: the 90th. I had signed up for a tour of Fatima along with some other places, and we arrived with all the multitudes. Most of the people were arriving on foot. Many were camping. Thousands attended a mass that overflowed into the basilica courtyard. Others were lined up to pay respects to a shrine at the exact place of the appearances. Many crawled or scooted on their knees. It was all quite a spectacle.

There were plenty of other sights to be had this day: a gothic cathedral and monastery in Batalba. Another one in Alcobaca. Lunch at a fantastic little seaside fishing and beach village called Nazare’. And finally, there was the walled medieval village of Obidos. Obidos is a bit like Rhodes, and perhaps Toledo, even though I’ve yet to go there. It was a stunning setting. I’d have liked to have spent more time there and in Nazare’.

Speaking of stunning settings, I spent another day in Sintra, along with another consultant I’m working with, Ravish. I’d been to Sintra as part of another tour last year, but all I did that time was walk around the village. It was ok, but I didn’t even know what the deal was about the palaces and castles in the area. Having enough time made a big difference.

Ravish and I took a train from Lisbon to Sintra, and then took a bus to the top of the Big Hill / Mountain. At the very top is Pena National Palace in a spectacular setting. The palace itself is like something out of a fairy tale, with fantastic structures, shapes and colors. And did I mention the view? It was great; we could see the sea many miles away on three sides of us (Sintra is in the middle of a large peninsula, which includes Lisbon far to the south).

Next we headed down, but not too far down, to the Moorish Castle. This was about 1,000 years older than the palace, but it was impressive in it’s own way. There were walls galore, and a steep walk to the top. The walls are built on the side of a cliff, so it appears to be a very high wall. In fact, it is a very high wall. As it was for Pena Palace, the panoramic view was wonderful.

Then it was down again. This time way, way down, back to the village. We toured the Sintra National Palace, which had only some very nice views. Some of the 16th century rooms were neat.

And that’s about all the ways you can cook shrimp, I mean… that’s about all the ways you can see Portugal from Lisbon.

2007 Dan in Dublin

“I’m kind of tired. I was out celebrating my wife’s birthday until 4am. Boy was she mad when I got home!” That was just one of the stories from one of the drivers of the City “hop on, hop off” tour that I took here in Dublin. Another is, “My wife ran off with a policeman. Now whenever I hear a siren, I get worried. What if he’s bringing her back?” One more: “Here is the smallest pub in Dublin. It holds no more than 14 people, including the barman. It’s very safe, because you can’t fall down.” Yes, some of these drivers were pretty darn funny. One of them sang quite a bit. And quite well, too. I took this tour in order to see Dublin sort of on my own, but with a bit of guidance. Some of the memorable stops that I did were: Christchurch and St. Patrick’s Cathedrals, Phoenix Park (a very nice city park where a 10K race was just finishing), Trinity College and St. Stephens Green (a smaller, but still very nice city park). I chose not to stop at the Guiness Headquarters and visitor center. That, however, is considered by many to be a major attraction here. 

The folks I work with are extremely friendly. It’s nice to work at a place where they like you. As usual, however, I’m out in the middle of nowhere, so I have to take a tram any time I do into town. But I’m managing ok. It’s a good thing that I took that tour when I arrived – most days all I see is what’s on the 400 or so meter walk from the hotel to the office. Except, of course, what I see on my daily runs. 

Those daily runs have really been, to put it as an Irishman would, brilliant. No, I don’t mean the quality of the running; I mean the scenery and the sensory experience. From the suburb of Leopardstown, I head east on bike-paths and sidewalks along the not-too-busy road down (and I do mean down) to the sea. Even this part of the run is very pleasant. There are stonewalls, blossoming trees, flowering gardens, birds singing, and the village of Newtown. 

Once I reach the sea, it gets even better. I turn south and run along the shore. There are more stonewalls and villages along the way, along with harbors and seawalls. I go through the village of Dun Laoghaire (pronounced dun leery, but you probably knew that), past Dalkey Castle and turn around at an abbey placed by God on the sea in the village of Dalkey. On clear mornings the sun is often just starting to rise over the sea at this point. Heading back the way I came, I have to push it to get back up the hills, but I don’t mind; running doesn’t get much better. 

I’d seen a lot of Dublin, and I’d certainly seen enough of Leopardstown, so for the weekend in between the workweeks, I made my way to the countryside in order to stay at the Marriott Johnstown House Enfield Hotel and Spa. Enfield is in County Meath, about 40 miles from Dublin. Might as well be 400. Friday evening, I got my laptop bag and two other small bags, walked 15 minutes to the tram, rode 30 minutes to Dublin city center, walked 30 minutes to Conolly Station, waited for and then took the train to Enfield (45 minutes), and finally walked 30 minutes from the village to the hotel. The things I do to earn Marriott points. 

I thought my Ireland running couldn’t be much nicer than that run to the sea, but it’s really nice in County Meath as well. I ran to the village and then along a canal, where there was a path of variable quality – some mud, some rocks, some cow flops, some cows, some sheep, some crushed gravel, etc. But all of it very serene. The green Irish hills and pastures loom in the background. Trees line most parts of the canal. Maybe running did get a bit better. 

So after nearly 2 hours and 40 minutes of slow trail running, I get back to the hotel and, for reasons that I can’t think of, went into the spa/gymnasium. There I saw a notice about the Spa’s annual triathlon. It was to take place that very same day. I somehow gathered that there were both individuals and teams, and then, of course, asked if there were any teams that needed a runner. Of course there was. Before I knew it, I was involved. Show up at half-past 11. “Oh yeah,” I said as an afterthought, “how far is this run?” 5.2 kilometers. 

Could I go out and do it again after all that trail running? I figured I could probably make the distance. After breakfast and a cold bath to recover, I went back down to the spa. Do I owe any money? No. Who and where are my teammates? They’re around somewhere – don’t worry about them. Follow Liz to get started. But it’s only ten after 11. Doesn’t matter, we’re just starting everyone in groups of 3, and in this case, 2. You can go now. So me and Jenny started running towards town, hoping to not get lost (the directions were pretty simple, and there was a biker on the course to help). I got ahead of Jenny and then saw the biker, who yelled some words of encouragement as I went by. He was escorting another runner in. Later on he caught up and rode along with me as I looped through town and began heading back to the hotel. He continued to encourage me, and at one point told me I was doing 10 miles per hour. I slowed a bit towards the finish because there’s a hill to overcome, not to mention strong winds. I finished strong with the biker almost alongside and with Liz and about two others cheering madly. Liz kissed me. You just don’t get this kind of running experience (at least by race officials) at home. My time was 20:26, a PR for 5.2 km. And better yet, by beating Jenny, I had “won” the third or so race of my life. The others were equally low-key. I wish I knew how I did in relation to the other runners. When will I know the official results? There will be a picnic in July where they will be announced. How did my team do? Who knows? 

I thought that being in County Meath would bring me close enough to easily get to some historical and archeological sites. Close I was, but there was no easy way to get to any of them. I hired a taxi for 25 Euros each way, and went to Trim. Trim is a medieval village with a large historical castle. From the tour I learned that the castle was built in the 12th century. The keep is quite tall, but only partially intact. Same with the walls. From the top of the keep I could see all around the county, including the Hill of Tara, another famous site. Trim castle is where the movie Braveheart (which is about Scotland) was filmed. 

One more thing - Limerick Pork: Until I went to Ireland, I wasn't aware that there is an actual city called Limerick. I still had to chuckle a bit when I saw "Limerick Pork" on a dinner menu. I figured they meant that the recipe came from there or that's the way they prepare it there, or something. Even so, I still somehow pictured a pork chop spouting a dirty little five-line poem. So during this morning's long run, I came up with this thought about Limerick Pork: 

There once was a piglet in Limerick 
Who thought: to escape would be mighty slick 
He tried to run away 
But the farmer held him at bay 
And that's him on the dinner table; so much for that swine trick



2007 Dan in Budapest


This would be my second time in Budapest, and I wanted to see and do some different things this time. I almost booked a one-day boat trip to the north, where there are supposed to be three scenic towns and a great castle or two overlooking the river. It’s called the Danube Bend area. I chose not to book it however, when I saw the weather forecast: cold and rainy. Cold (low 40s) and rainy it was. So I tried to do some indoor things.

I walked to and explored St. Steven’s Basilica. I’ve now seen a lot of old churches all over Europe, but this is one of the most glorious. It was as ornate as any, but more colorful than most.

I also went to Buda Castle, also known as the Royal Palace, to visit the museum inside. It’s the Hungarian National Gallery, with an extensive set of works by Hungarian artists throughout history. It was quite impressive. As usual, I liked the 19th century paintings the best. Budapest also has a Museum of Fine Arts, but I’ll save that one for my next trip.

The next day, Sunday, was very nice: it was sunny, with temperatures in the 50s. I couldn’t go the Danube Bend, however, because the tour only goes on Saturdays in winter. I could have tried to take a train or bus, but thought better of it; there were still other things that I haven’t seen in Budapest proper.

The day began with me on a metro to Hero’s Square. This square is the entrance to a city part called Varosliget, and is also home of the famous Millennium Monument. With great colonnades, statues galore, and a tall central column crowned by Archangel Gabriel, it is truly stunning. The monument was built to celebrate the millennium of the founding of Hungary, as well as it’s conversion to Christianity, lead by St. Steven. Among the statues is Prince Arpad, along with six other conquering Magyars. You gotta love these conquering Magyars.

Varosliget also contains a zoo, botanical garden, famous baths, and Vajdajunyad Castle. Since I continue to be self-conscious about taking them with people I don’t know, I skipped the baths. This castle, complete with a moat, looks like it’s straight out of a fairy tale. I walked around the interior grounds – it is really neat.

As I returned from the metro stop, I had planned to take Vaci street, a major shopping area, back to the hotel. Along the way is Mihaly Vorosmarty Square, where there was some sort of flea market or festival going on. I checked out the goods and the food (which smelled great) and watched first the little girls, and later everyone, do some folk dancing. They even had a puppet show. You just can’t get entertainment like this at home.

Having been to Old Town, in the Castle District before, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go again, but I wanted to do something with the time I had. So I climbed up once again – it took about 45 minutes from the hotel. And I did see some sights that I had missed: the view from the back of the Castle District hill is almost as spectacular as that overlooking the Danube. I also got to see the famous Vienna Gate.

How Beautiful is Budapest!

2007 Dan in Athens


For my second trip to Greece things would be different. This time it's a business trip, so I wouldn't have nearly the amount of time to see things as our trip a couple months ago. So after arriving, I spent my first day just walking around the Plaka district; nothing much new to report.

The only full day that I would have free would be Sunday. I booked a 3-island, 1-day cruise. And what a day. I was actually gone from 7am until 8pm. It turns out that the three islands are not quite as close to Athens as I thought; it took a long time to get from one to the other. And one other complaint: the boat was lousy - they packed too many people on board and the food was awful. (Woody Allen likes to talk about the Jewish Ladies complaining about food at a wedding. “The food is awful”, says one. “Yes, and there’s so little of it”, says the other.) But in spite of the long day and the not-so-good boat, it was a most worthwhile trip. Our first stop was Poros, where I walked around the picturesque harbor town. Poros is only about a quarter mile away from the Mycenae area on the mainland, but a long boat ride from Athens. Our next stop was the island of Hydra. It was even more picturesque, and there were some forts to explore in addition to the town itself. Finally we went to Aegina (aka Egina), where I booked an additional tour. I got to see the temple of Aphea, which rivals the Parthenon and Poseidon's Temple. (Also something strange: these three temples form an exact triangle - each is 25km apart. How, and why, did they do this?) We also stopped at an orthodox church that was cool as well. Finally, the Greek music and dancing on the boat was pretty entertaining. So yes, it was a good trip.

On the way to the boat I had met a father and his son. He asked where I live and when I told him, he asked, “is that near Strongsville?” When I told him, he asked if I’d heard of Beef O’Brady’s. I said that I’d just been there for the first time just in the past week. His name is Nick Voinovich, and he is the president of Beef’s and lives in Tampa. We talked a lot. I saw the two of them on the first island, but not afterwards. I thought it was strange that they didn’t get off the bus for the Marriott that night – I figured maybe they’d taken a cab. I saw Mr. Voinovich at breakfast the next morning. “You know when you were heading back to the boat and we were going away from it? My son said, ‘Dad, why’s the boat moving?’ We missed it and had to take a water taxi back to the third island, where we missed the boat again, and then had to get another boat back to Athens.” I had kind’ve wondered why they had been headed the wrong way, but didn’t say anything. I figured they knew what they were doing.

I can’t forget to mention Babis, my personal driver. I know this because he told me; he said, “I be your driver for your whole stay, boss.” That’s another thing: he calls me boss. Whenever I need a ride, anytime day or night, all I need to do is call Babis’ cell, and he comes. He’s from Crete, like Zorba – maybe they all call their clients “boss”. But he’s a wonderful guy. I’d recommend him to anyone coming to Greece.

For my last night I took a long walk up to a hill just below the Acropolis. I had a great view of the sunset and Athens at twilight.

2007 Dan in Madrid

This is my second trip to Spain. The first was last September, when I spent only a couple days here in Madrid as well as Lisbon. This time it is to be 2 weeks in Madrid, so I went thinking I ought to be able to see and do more. The good news is that the hotel is only a short walk to the office. The bad news is that we're in the middle of nowhere on the outskirts of town. This area, north of town is hard to believe and even harder to describe. The word, stark comes to mind. There are miles upon miles of multi-family residence buildings, office buildings, some restaurants built into the buildings, AND THAT'S ALL! No trees. No schools. No single family houses - I found not one in dozens of miles of running. Oh yeah. Plenty of construction. More construction than you can imagine. 

Upon arrival Steve and I took the bus to the subway station, and the subway downtown. We did lots of walking, including a long stroll through one of the city parks, Parke Del Buen Retiro. There were many many folks out for their Sunday afternoon strolls. We also walked through the main train station (including the indoor arboretum), and a few other areas. You've got to enjoy the architecture here. The theory is that it's so nice here because Spain was not involved in either world war, and their civil war didn't cause much local damage. We ate dinner at an outdoor cafe, even though it was getting a bit cool. We laughed at our suffering there at an outdoor cafe, whilst the poor folks back home only have a couple feet of snow and cold to put up with. Not much happened during that first week of work. Our client kept us fairly busy, but we did have some time for walking. We went to Hippercor (large discount store/supermarket) and El Corte Ingles (large department store chain) one time, and to a mall another night. That was about it for excitement, except this: We walked into the mall, which is quite exclusive, and almost immediately heard the fire alarm. Sure enough, we could smell and even see smoke, and it was coming from somewhere near the cafe I had been recommending for dinner. We got out in a hurry. 

Later that night we tried to walk back along side and in back of a golf driving range. We were "escorted" back. I thought the security guard was either being very helpful, or we were about to be arrested. Eating here is a challenge. The food is great, but it's only available at certain times, and you'd better just get used to those times. Lunch is at 2 to 3 pm, we work until 6 or 7, and then dinner is at about 9pm. This doesn't sit too well with a guy who likes to go to bed at 9:30 or 10, and then get up to run at 4 or 5am. So Steve and I are always trying get an "early" dinner at 7:30 or so. But it's a real challenge to find ANYPLACE that's open. 

Friday night Steve and I checked out of our middle of nowhere hotel (which looks like it was designed and furnished by Ikea), and into one in the middle of everywhere central Madrid. That hotel, the Best Western Atlantico, is beautiful classic European. The streets are truly alive with people. There are street entertainers, discos, theaters, you name it. And did I mention throngs of people? We walked to Templo de Debod, an ancient Egyptian temple moved here as a gift from Egypt to Spain for their help in retrieval of other antiquities. It was awesome. Then we walked around the renowned palace (it was closed) and through Plaza Mayor, the famous square. 

Our friend and interpreter, Sergio, drove Steve and I to Salamanca, which is about 2 1/2 hours west, almost to the Portugal border. Salamanca is first and foremost a university town. The university is built into the medieval city center area, near the main square. I learned that Plaza Major means main square, so that's why multiple towns have squares by the same name. Duh. We walked around quite a bit and saw shell house, an ancient Roman-built bridge and the cathedral, in addition to the square. 

Sergio's friends from earlier years, Laura and Nikki, were visiting Salamanca from Brazil and the UK, so we all did some crowded tapas bars. We didn't eat much - only a bit of some of the famous jamon - but had lots of good conversation. It was a great day. The next day Steve and I took a train for a half-hour ride to Alcala de Henares. It's another university town with more historical buildings. There were dozens of huge storks making gigantic nests on the tops of the buildings. We ate and toured the Cervantes (the author of Don Quixote - Man of La Mancha) Museum and an archeological museum. We also saw a quasi-military band playing music in front of the university. 

Observations: -Everyone I work with seems to be genuinely friendly and accommodating. Great folks, these Spaniards! -When you sneeze, they say, "Jesus". -When they dubbed Terminator 2 into Spanish, Arnold's "Hasta la Vista, Baby" was changed into "Sayonara, Baby". (I think that works just as well!) -You don't find chicken on too many menus, but plenty of pork and jamon. -The Spanish have never heard of "Spanish Rice". -Running here is so strange. When I head out at 5:30 or so, someone has to open the hotel door for me, and there is no one, not one person or vehicle, about. The streets are empty. That was not the case for my one and only run from downtown. There were throngs of people everywhere, still reveling from the previous night. Of course they must have thought I was pretty strange. But that was mutual. Then I went into Casa de Campo, a very large park near the city center. There I encountered a plethora of prostitutes. I obviously wouldn’t be interested in their wares, but that didn’t stop them from making a few inquiries about my intentions. 

Our last night of the trip was a Friday, so Steve and I went back to the city center for more walking and exploring. We checked out Columbus Plaza, which included some kind of strange ultra-modern expo that we failed to comprehend. We marveled, once again, at the throngs of pedestrians out on a Friday night. And we ate at a smoky, but excellent tapas bar, where we enjoyed the best tapas yet.




2007 Hawaii


"The winds are wrong." That, according to Rita Cognion, is what the long-time kamaiana's (island residents) were saying. Instead of the usual trades from the north, these were coming from the south and were quite fierce, bringing some amount of damage and destruction. We got our share of rain over the 5 days we had in Maui, but also much nice weather as well. From our experiences, rain in Hawaii is never much of a problem, because it a) doesn't usually last real long, b) you can usually see and get to areas where the sun is shining and it isn't raining at all, c) it's liquid sunshine and you're in Hawaii to enjoy it and d) there's usually a rainbow to accompany it.

So after a day of lounging, we decided to drive up to the top of Haleakala to hike the Sliding Sands trail within the volcanic crater. It had been raining at our place in Wailea, but not to worry, I said. We would be above the clouds at the 10,000 foot summit and could laugh at the poor slobs getting rained on below. Sure enough, as we drove up the mountain, we did go through several layers of clouds. There was only one problem: they didn't stop. We didn't make it as far as the summit because the lady at the entrance to the national park told us it was cloudy and raining up there as well. The trip itself was neat anyway. Those rain clouds were pretty awesome, and there were plenty of rainbows in the places where the sun broke through.

We did manage to get a hike in that day. Down past the end of the road (see the running description below), there's a trail over extremely rough lava flows with some great shoreline views. We had done it partway one other time, but this time we went farther, all the way to what I'll call a light beacon: a light-house without the house. It was on a cape at (I think) the very southern tip of the island. Feels like the end of the earth. The surf from those "wrong winds" was splashing all the way up to the top and over 50 to 100 foot sea cliffs. Although the footing is awful, this is a great hike.

Besides that end-of-the-earth hike, and our usual 3-4 mile morning walk along the shoreline walk-way in Wailea, we did one other memorable hike. It was actually more of a climb, down to the "olivine pools", so named by our guidebook. These are on the shoreline on the northeast side of West Maui – what I call the back of the head. The pools are not unlike the Oheo Gulch, aka Seven Pools, but are much less known. They are tranquil pools almost entirely surrounded by rough ocean surf. We didn't get in for a soak, but they were neat to see. And we were the only people around. After the climb back up to the road, we continued to circumnavigate West Maui. That drive is every bit as beautiful and harrowing as the famous ride to Hana. After a while we got tired of stopping to admire the views (ho hum, just another spectacular view) and just kept driving, dodging the occasional oncoming vehicle in the one-lane areas. And of course we didn't take the recommended clockwise direction. Going counter-clockwise as we did means that the steep drop-off cliffs are ALWAYS next to you on the passenger side. Seemed like only inches away.

It was great to see Rita during our time on Maui. She and I ran together a couple times, including once to the end of the road. (I did another solo run there.) Did I mention that it seems like the end of the earth? It really does - especially when the early morning darkness is still there. It's such a memorable running venue, and I'll never forget it. But back to Rita. She's such a great friend, and not just because she lives in paradise! We ate one breakfast (where she was beat-up from our just mentioned long run), and several dinners together. George couldn't make it - he was stuck in Cleveland with the flu. Too bad - we missed him, and Rita seems downright lonely there. Rita and George do have a wonderful condo in Kihei, and she even took us to her office. We couldn't find her desk though - there was only a huge pile of papers (where the desk should have been) with a chair in her cubicle.

It was sad to say goodbye to Rita and to Maui, but it was on the Big Island. Lately we've been leaning more towards staying on one island because the trip between them takes so much time. This one sealed the deal: not only with time, but also stress. We thought we had plenty of time, but nooo: the wait for Hawaiian Air check-in was well over an hour. We did make it, but when we arrived in Kona, we learned that they lost our luggage. And then we had to wait well over an hour JUST TO REPORT IT. They did eventually deliver it to our hotel, but so late that night that we didn't actually get it till the next morning. One other problem that we were somewhat aware of coming in: construction at the Waikoloa Marriott. They have nice pools and the usual beach, but a makeshift entrance and lots of construction noise. To top off the evening we thought we'd try the expensive hotel restaurant, and the food was uncommonly bad. It was much worse than greasy spoon type stuff: they had to work at making these meals terrible. Such is life in paradise, I guess.

The best word to describe the Big Island is "sweeping". That's as in sweeping vistas. I'm thinking specifically of the coffee-growing area south of Kona, the Hamokua coast on the northeast side, and even in the Kohala region where we stayed. There are also probably more contrasts here than anywhere on the planet (at least for such a small area): rainforests, snowcapped mountains, deserts, black, white and green sand beaches, and, of course, lava flows galore. But it's those sweeping vistas that I think of first when I think of the place. There's been only one problem with these vistas: it's been more hazy than for our previous trips here. More on this "vog" later...

The Big Island truly is big. It takes hours to get around or across it. We drove south of Kailua-Kona and toured the Bayview coffee plantation and bought a fare share of their beans. The scenery, gardens and coffee plantations make the area are as beautiful as any on the planet. But it's the Hamokua coast area where I've said before, and again on this trip, that I'd love to live. Once again, great views, and not too much development. It seems almost, but not quite, devoid of people. That's where we hiked quite a ways through the new World Tropical Gardens. Along the way we stopped at Umauma falls - a really beautiful triple tier waterfall and pools.

The running on the Big Island is as awesome as any running anywhere. Although I'd been sick with yet another cold (and never completely recovered from my long-term chest congestion), I ran up the mountain past the village of Waikoloa, up to the area recently hit by the wild-fire. As the sun began to rise, I had great views of all the mountains around me: Mouna Kea, Mouna Loa, Huaalalai, Kohala, but not Haleakala - it was obscured by clouds this time. It's 10 miles up, and my legs felt it - I got slower and slower. When I turned to go back down, I picked up the pace, but even this quad-burning part of the run wasn't exactly easy. But the scenery made it all extremely memorable. I did this run once again on our last day on the island. It was even more awesome, with a great sunrise and mostly clear views of the mountains.

As my cold was beginning to get better, Debbie got it. So we spent a couple days lounging around the resort, where we did manage to get some walking and swimming in. We also made it to Kailua Kona for an evening meal overlooking the bay and the sunset.

It was also hazy at the Pololu valley up at the northern tip of the island. We'd hiked down into the valley before, but this time we were going for the whole enchilada: down into the valley, over to the next ridge and over and down that into the nearly inaccessible Honokana Nui valley. And, of course, back. After a very strenuous 90 minutes of hiking up and down the ridges, we finally got to a point where we could at least see the Honokana Nui valley. It was a beautiful sight from the top, but we couldn't go any further: there was earthquake damage to the trail going down there. Not that we'd have been able to make it anyway -we were tuckered out and still had to get back. Which we did, somehow, manage to do. But those views of both valleys made this a really great hike.

We found out that the haziness we’d been experiencing is called "vog" - volcanic fog. It's caused by the ash, dust, fumes, water vapor and other gasses being emitted from the volcano. It's usually blown away by the trade winds, but those winds have still been "wrong". We did wind up having a few beautiful clear days towards the end of our stay.

We spent a day at Hawaii Volcanos National Park, in part to find the source of the vog. (Not really - we knew what it was.) We listened to a talk by a ranger, did several walks including part of the Kilauea Iki trail (although not the part inside the crater), a short walk to the inside of Kilauea crater itself and a walk in "bird park", which was nice, but we only heard and didn't see too many birds. The exception was a couple of black frankolins. They're like grouse or wild chickens. We did see some bright red Hawaiian Honeycreepers while we were listening to the ranger. We intend to come back again some day (this was our third time here at the park) and hike the entire Kilauea Iki trail.

And that was about it. We had a wonderful visit with Rita, some great hikes and a few excellent meals at Roy’s and other restaurants. Don’t know when we’ll be back, but we’re hoping it’ll be soon.

2007 Florida


We picked up Mom and then Dave and Carol and headed off to Orlando, via Atlanta. Based on his flight experience, Dave has a new horror movie title: Babies on a Plane. Betsy and Ed had dinner for us that night. I had had a cold to begin with, but it had gotten worse during the week, and then much worse still on the plane. Betsy tried to fix me up by giving me a tablespoon of coconut oil. It was sort of like lard, and I figured it would either cure or kill me.

Unfortunately, it did neither. I had what wound up being a chest cold, and/or bronchitis for the rest of the week. Maybe I needed a few more dollops of that stuff.

The four of us stayed at the Lake Roy Beach Inn. Contrary to what we read about it, it seemed dated and not entirely clean. We saw some geckos on the outside of the window of Dave and Carol’s room. Then Carol discovered that they’d been inside at some point as well – they had left their calling cards around the windowsill. All this tended to upset her a bit.

Bright and early the next day we all went to the flea market on route 27 near Winter Haven. Could’ve spent all day there. It’s Americana at its best. We also stopped at the Cleveland Indians Spring Training facility even though they’re not there just yet.

Before heading down to Fort Myers, we stopped at the Florida Aviation Museum. Saw some old planes, and at least one newer warbird. I got a picture of what looks like Mom in the cockpit of one of them. The four of us took off from there, and Betsy, Ed and Mom went back to their place.

Our place in Fort Myers, a 2-bedroom condo at the Pink Shell, was beautiful. It appeared to be newly renovated. Too bad Fort Myers Beach itself had a major issue: seaweed. Although the sand was pure white, there was a large area of seaweed along the shore. At some places it was a foot or more high. And it stunk. We eventually learned that it was due to the channeling of pollutants in Lake Okeechobee out through a river that ended up there in Fort Myers. The river apparently causes the seaweed to wash up there. This is only a recent phenomenon, and no one seems to know what to do about it. The guy scraping the beach said he wasn’t allowed to move it out of the way. Between that gunk and my chest cold, I didn’t go in the ocean the whole time.

We went to a nature preserve on Sanibel Island. It was a self-drive 4-mile tour; we made many stops and saw a whole mess of birds and a small gater. It was pretty neat stuff. After the preserve we continued driving on up to Captiva Island where we’d heard had no seaweed. They lied, but it wasn’t quite as bad.

We also drove down to Naples to visit Aunt Sue and Uncle Jim. Had a nice time – they have a nice condo there. After dinner we walked the Naples pier and then had ice cream.

For our last act we drove to the Everglades for an airboat ride. We went both fast and slow through mangrove forests, and saw a gater in the water coming towards us – especially when the driver placed his hand in the water. We also had some pelicans land on our boat looking for handouts. It was loads of fun. Saw a BIG Honkin Gater later on.

And that was pretty much it. Too bad we didn’t have more time.