to raleigh

Raleigh, NC is a place that’s rapidly growing! There are many from the northeast moving to different cities in NC. In fact, Cary, NC, an acronym for containment area for relocating yankees, is full to the brim with yankees. Sometimes I wonder how the natives feel about this. In Raleigh is a gentler way of living. The cashier understands that you need time to collect yourself after making a purchase, and the customer standing behind you doesn’t breathe down your neck while you do so. You don’t get hit with umbrellas on a rainy day either. Grant you, there are many malls, but they’re really pleasant to be in whether for browsing, reading at bookstores, serious shopping or eating. They’re downright pleasant. There’s no getting around it. Yes, I’m comparing the shopping experience to that of NYC where it can be disconcerting at times, although it’s much better than in past decades. Perhaps it’s unfair to compare NYC with any other place because it’s not any other place. And that’s the reason people come to NYC, but then, on the other hand, when you find a place that feels good, why not visit it once in awhile, at least in memory until you can be there physically.

There’s also the thing with iced tea refills, you get as much as you can handle. And it’s delicious. Could be the same with coffee. Michael has gotten too used to the south. The last time he ate at a coffee shop in Manhattan it cost him over $12 for iced tea. He kept nodding his head for refills and they were only too happy to oblige. The simplicity of it all is refreshing. I stayed at a hotel in Raleigh and the store on the premises had no saline solution for contact lenses so an employee drove me to a drugstore. Imagine that! Thinking on this has gotten me thinking. Maybe in the near future I’ll find my way once again to Raleigh for a little shopping and gentle southern treatment.

www.crabtree-valley-mall.com
www.shopsofcameronvillage.com
www.ridgewoodshoppingcenter.com
www.streetsatsouthpoint.com

the unexpected

When I was at the Optimum Health Institute in San Diego www.optimumhealthinstitute.com I met an older Farrah Fawcett look-alike. Her name was Madelyn. She started a travel agency when she was in her sixties. She had endless energy. She was at OHI for only a week. On the day she was leaving I found her relaxing on the lawn. Her taxi was due in an hour. I stayed and we talked til the taxi came. About three weeks later, and four days before I was to leave OHI, Madelyn called and said that she and a friend had planned to go on a cruise soon. However, her friend had to cancel because of an emergency. “Could I go?” she asked. Madelyn was a travel agent; the price was reasonable. If I said yes, I had to immediately fax all my personal information to her to send to the cruise line. This was a new experience for me. And sending personal information, and a check to someone I barely knew was a leap of faith, and sometimes a leap of faith is what’s called for. After a day of juggling the pros and cons, I accepted. It felt right.

From San Diego I went to an International Living seminar at Delray Beach, Fl. The seminar was in four days. An OHI acquaintance arranged for me to stay with her friend, Monica, at Delray Beach. At 11pm I arrived at Miami airport. I managed to get an excellent driver who knew the lay of the land. Though there were moments when I wondered about my sanity. We discovered that the house was surrounded by many trees in a dark area, and when I got out of the car, I still couldn’t see the house. The driver drove off, and I walked up the dirt driveway, suitcase in hand, saying a short prayer. Then I saw it, and on the door was a note – one that would warm anyone’s heart. It said, “Please enter, make yourself at home. Don’t be afraid of the dog. Your bedroom is the last room on the right.” Monice was asleep. I fell asleep thinking to myself that there are people who simply trust the world, and I’ll meet one of them tomorrow. I met Monica that evening; she was as wonderful as her note. Four days later she drove me to the seminar and we said goodbye. Good conversation, good food, lots of laughter, and bicycle riding together, made her feel like an old friend.

At the Delray Beach seminar I met someone who had just returned from Malta. “Malta?” I said, “Tell me about Malta.” In the meantime, I sent a fax to Madelyn. She replied that we were to meet in Barcelona in four weeks to begin the cruise on the Sea Dream www.seadreamyachtclub.com .

guatemala “don’t use the water to . . . “

I try to not remember Guatemala because although I was looking forward to being there, staying with a family and studying Spanish, seeing all the great sites, enjoying the food, meeting the people, going to the markets, things don’t always happen the way you plan. It could have been on my first night in Guatemala when I stayed at a lovely Inn in Antigua, and placed my toothbrush under the faucet, forgetting about the warning of “Don’t use the water to . . . ”

When I was in Panama, I met someone who entertained me with his traveling stories (all kinds of stories), and he described, all too vividly, his experiences with montezuma’s revenge. And those experiences he described became mine a few months later.

So, let me say this one more time, because this I know from experience, some people just don’t listen to those warnings of, “Don’t use the water to . . . ”

malta and gozo

It’s so easy to like Malta and Gozo. They have so much history. Learning and exploring involves you in stories of numerous invaders, the influence of the Italians, British, Turks and Arabs. The prominence of the Catholic Church, the Hospitallers Knights of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, St. John’s Co-Cathedral & Museum, St. Paul’s and St. Agatha’s Catacombs, Tarxien Temples, and the calm, lovely community and magnificent blue waters of Gozo.

I went to Malta on the enthusiasm of an acquaintance. The only information I got from him was the guesthouse he stayed at in Bugibba. That was enough because to know one Maltese is to have Malta at your fingertips – the Maltese are that friendly. I stayed at the guesthouse in Bugibba, and found little effort was needed to get around Malta. I joined the early morning strollers along the Mediterranean, looked out at the colorful fishing boats (luzzu), and I noticed the coffee shops across the street with signs in their windows promising an “English breakfast.”

From the guesthouse, it’s an interesting walk along the Mediterranean to the Bugibba bus station. There I learn that the old rickety buses are from England, and are over fifty years old. And I’m told that Valletta, the capital, is a good starting point as most of Malta’s towns and villages are connected to it by bus. I go to Valletta, and quickly notice its rich history, and beautiful architecture. A good guidebook leads the way for exploration. I walk up and down the cobblestone streets, and eventually stop at Fort St. Elmo. A Maltese who’s fascinated with Malta’s history, esp. Malta’s part in WWII, approaches me. Soon he’s my tour guide. He has encyclopedic knowledge, and I try to listen and learn.

After two weeks at the guesthouse, I decide to rent an apartment for a month. I walk along the beautiful Mediterranean, and come to an area called St. Paul’s Bay. I pass a curious elderly woman, arms planted on the window sill; she looks like she’s waiting for something to happen. I back up and ask her whether she knows of an apartment I could rent. She does, leaves to get her keys, and away we go. She says that the apartment belongs to her and her four siblings, and she tells me that all of them are single. As we walk to the apartment, she informs me that they own and operate a restaurant/bar on the premises where I first saw her.

The very old Maltese apartment is located on a quiet nondescript street. The buildings are all attached. It’s large, and the old furnishings give it a lived-in feeling. I’ve never seen an apartment with this type of design. The bedrooms are large, the hallways scattered throughout the apartment are large and long, and I see a courtyard somewhere in the middle of all the rooms. The kitchen is small, the hallway leading to it is very large, and there is an unusually long rectangular table at the end of the apartment just outside the kitchen. I rent it for $400 a month. It doesn’t take long to find that wherever I am in the apartment, I feel isolated. After two weeks of trying to be comfortable without success, I approach the elderly woman to tell her I’m leaving. As I said, the Maltese are friendly and accepting. I don’t expect to get any money back, but without asking, she returns the rest of the rent, and invites me to lunch at her restaurant.

I’m always awed by the differences that exist when visiting a country. There’s always the people, the land, the buildings, the history, the culture – all the sites – and the learning. I try to keep in mind though that underneath all the differences, the basics are the same all over the world.

vilcabamba, ecuador

I’d never been to a place like Vilcabamba. It’s situated in a valley in the southern part of Ecuador. You can take a plane and land outside of Loja, the nearest city, or a bus from Cuenca, as I did. The ride is a little over 4 hours. The nearer you get to Loja, the closer you watch the road as it’s a bit daunting climbing in altitude while the driver very carefully maneuvers the many curves alongside a raging river below.

Once in Loja the decision is to stay overnight or take a bus or taxi to Vilcabamba. I stayed a night at comfortable Hotel Vilcabamba, and caught a taxi the next morning.

When I first set eyes on Vilcabamba, I remember thinking, “What the heck!” It was a shock, and upon approaching the square I was brought back to the cowboy and Indian movies of the 1950’s and those little one-horse towns. Vilcabamba is centered around a square with a few small stores and restaurants surrounding it and a very old and simple church having  a presence. There’s no need for traffic lights. Congestion is hardly a problem.

Vilcabamba’s tranquility is felt immediately. There are many old, strong, and healthy people who walk miles every day, or hike daily up the mountains to work. These strong and healthy people live to be well over 100, and so their lifestyle was studied by doctors from different parts of the world. And books were written about them.

It takes time to get used to being part of the village. To capture its essence, you can’t come and leave quickly. You stay, relax, settle your mind. There are a handful of hostals.  Fruit trees are everywhere in yards – avocados, lemons, mangoes, etc. You don’t starve. The most delicious pineapple I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating was bought on a side street at a tiny grocery store off the square.

In Vilcabamba the food is tasty and the wine good; you sit and eat and get to know the people, and observe the day. The horses are hitched and children play in the streets next to the square. People from all walks of life sit for hours talking and eating, sometimes reading books gotten at the book exchange “up the street.” You read books you thought you’d never read because the selection is limited. And you enjoy them. And you take long walks into the mountains, and guided tours to beautiful Podocarpus National Park, study Spanish, listen and learn about the nation’s politics, hike Mandango for its spectacular views, rent a horse for the day and return when the sun sets with a feeling you’ve not experienced in many moons. Sometimes there’s a concert at one of the hostals given by performers touring Ecuador. Vilcabamba had its first UFO Convention in 2004. Through the years, there  has been talk of UFO sitings in the mountains.

You meet people from the US, Canada, Australia, Germany, France, Italy, England, Japan, etc. Some stay and build their dream house in the mountains, or find one in town to renovate. Others stay for a short time, and are anxious to move on. Some visitors return annually. Others tour different countries because there are many sites they want to see all over South America. Sometimes they return to stay, and sometimes they don’t.

Phones, computers? Well, there are two simply operated internet places and a phone office. If it rains hard, well , there’s always tomorrow.

It’s a state of mind, you know. If you’re ready for the tranquil experiences, you’ll let nothing keep you from having them. If you’re not, nothing can make you stay.

Hello to: Glenda and Bob, Emmy and Brian, Isabelle and Sergi, Marjatta, Ana and Miguel, John and Flor, Henry and Esther, Eliza, Alicia, Carol and John.

ecuador

I met many savvy travelers of all ages, professions, and personalities last year in Ecuador. It’s a little country where there’s so much exploring to do. I don’t know why people say, “Ecuador? You went to Ecuador? Why?” I want to say, “Go and you will find out. ” However, I don’t know why Ecuador. Why any country?

Quito, the capital, has what every big, wonderful, high-energy city has – museums, fine restaurants, a good transportation system, many clean hostals run by friendly people, hotels with all the amenities, excellent shopping, beautiful parks, magnificent churches, great walking neighborhoods, galleries, etc. Neighborhoods to stay away from and neighborhoods for strolling. Don’t let the armed guards fool you. The situation is not as it looks. The guidebooks say beware of crime. They also say that about Manhattan where I am at the moment.

It was early evening when the plane landed in Quito. The airport is small and clean and uniformed employees direct everyone to the exist. Cafe Cultura was on my list of places to stay, and I needed to call to reserve a room. I experienced a few sweaty moments attempting to use the phone and then the nearby attendant came to help. Cafe Cultura had a room www.cafecultura.com . The brochure in my room said it’s owned by an Norwegian. It was charming and friendly. In Ecuador it’s easy to find places to stay for $10 and they’re really okay places, but I find staying at a really feel- good place the first few nights in a foreign country is important. The location was perfect. After three days, I reserved a room at La Casa Sol to be in a different location www.lacasasol.com . I walked, and walked to get a feel for Quito. My idea was to not stay long in a big city, but to return there before leaving for the States.

It was time to visit Cuenca, a beautiful colonial city in the southern part of Ecuador. My book said that in 1999 it was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Trust site. The lovely people at La Casa Sol, realizing I had neglected to learn their language, offered to make a reservation for me at Hotel Inca Real in Cuenca. The Hotel was once a private residence. It was quaint and lovely. The rooms were surrounded by a courtyard. Courtyards play a prominent role in many structures. Most are beautiful and tranquil. The people working at the hotel had an old-fashioned reserve in their manner. They were always extremely gracious to the foreigner who only spoke English. It was almost painful for me to watch their expression every time I approached the desk.

Cuenca has its share of foreigners who have set up busineses, are studying Spanish, or simply enjoying a different culture for a few months. There are many beautiful old churches and parks, outdoor markets, small stores for shopping, and restaurants where you can get a good meal. On Sunday it’s practically a ghost town as natives and tourists alike take off to visit the surrounding areas.

I’d been in Cuenca for a few weeks when it occurred to me to do something about the daily frustration of not knowing Spanish. I enrolled at the Abraham Lincoln on Borrero 5-18. Admittedly, I was not the best student there, but learned enough words to enliven the time I’d be in Ecuador. Once you study the design of the city, Cuenca is small enough to get around easily by foot. The streets are named after historical persons or events and, at first, it was rather dizzying trying to read the map.

After six weeks, it was time to say goodbye. Goodbye to the wonderful big market where I bought all my fruits and vegetables negotiating prices in Spanish, the Austria Cafe, Raymipampa, Plaza Rotary, lunch at El Maiz and Moliendo Cafe, Culture Aborigenes, Musea de las Culturas, San Francisco Market for sweaters, shawls and hammocks, Museo de las Conceptas for delicious pastries made by the few nuns still remaining in the historic convent, Museo del Banco Central, so many places, so much delicious ice cream, and some very wonderful people. But, alas, I grabbed my Panama hat and took a bus to . . .

A place in a valley in southern Ecuador called Vilcabamba.

ireland can sometimes be wet


Around the year 2002, I began traveling with lots of anxiety, lots of inexperience and a big suitcase. I took off into the friendly skies and headed for Ireland. I decided to go there for the simple reason that I had to make a decision, and, at that time in my traveling life, it seemed one place was as good as another. It’s a weak reason, but as it turned out, it was a good choice. I liked Ireland; the public transportation is efficient and convenient, English is spoken, Irish people are friendly and they are great storytellers, and there are stunning sites in Ireland. How can one go wrong? I’ll tell you how: not paying attention to the weather.

People would say, ‘Why didn’t you come last month? -That’s the best time.” Luckily, my hooded, long raincoat and a pair of shoes that could stand up to any downpour were perfect – most of the time. I will always remember Galway and Connemara for the times I was caught in heavy winds and buckets of rain. I was whipped into traveling shape with those experiences. And I remember exactly where I was when Venice popped into my mind. I was facing Galway Bay, walking from town to a B&B when the rains came. There was no place to go, and it felt like a beating. I was soaking wet, and when the worst was over I continued walking to the B&B. Along the way, I remembered reading about Venice in a thin book I’d bought at a shop in Galway, and I grabbed onto that thought. Venice? Why not?

I came through that traveling experience in Ireland intact, mostly due to the kindness of people I met along the way. Not that I made any effort to meet people. No. I was too busy keeping myself together dragging a big suitcase from one B&B place to another. The B&B package I’d bought Stateside made the trip a bit difficult because tourists from other countries had a similar package, and the owners of the B&Bs wanted money in hand, not a voucher. I don’t blame them. But because of this, I had to spent a lot of time on the phone inquiring about availability.

Maybe someday I’ll return to Ireland; it will be when the sun is shining, the days are warm, and people say, “You’re lucky. This is the best time to be here.”

www.abbeyleigh.net
www.buskerbrownes.com
www.kylemoreabbey.com
www.ontours.biz