travel – Page 6 – Destination NOW

On the Road to Abu Simbel

To acclimate us for the end of our leisurely float up the Nile, we used less luxurious modes of transportation to visit the town of Daraw. We’d been ferried across the Nile by small boats before, but this was our first time in the back of a pick up truck. The truck was covered, but there was such little headroom, I could barely sit upright. And no, that’s not a canvas top to the truck. It’s metal. If you’re wondering how I know, let’s just say there were more than a few bumps in the road.

You see all modes of transportation in Daraw: bikes, motorcycles, trucks, donkeys, tuk tuks, just about everything except cars.

Most OAT groups tour the livestock market, but because there are no markets on the day we were there, we visited the local entrepreneur. One of his many businesses is a “livestock hotel”. Hey, if you don’t sell all your animals on the first market day, you need someplace for them to stay, right?

Another of his businesses resembled a mini petting zoo, which we greatly enjoyed. I’d been warned that camels spit. After being taught a lesson by that rambunctious water buffalo a few days earlier, I kept my distance. Bobbie and I decided it was time to let others interact with the babies.

This camel bumped Jeanne in the head multiple times

There was significant bonding between Bill and baby donkey. We expected him to start negotiating a purchase price.

Next stop, shopping—and eating—in the marketplace. Mohamed purchased Falafel for us to sample. We had just watched as the street vendor was making it. I don’t know that I would have been brave enough to eat food from a street vendor if I were on my own, but with Mohamed choosing the vendor, I felt perfectly safe.

It felt like we were on the Amazing Race when Mohamed instructed us to search for, and purchase, specific fruits and vegetables with the 20 Egyptian pounds, (about $.62 in US currency) he gave us. We were all so focused on our task, there were no photos of the adventure. I foolishly pointed at potatoes and waved my 20 pound note. Any idea how many potatoes that amount would buy? A whole lot. A whole HEAVY lot. Good thing I’ve been going to the Y.

Bobbie, on the other hand, was a smart shopper. She purchased the required peppers, but she negotiated skillfully enough to be able to buy bread for us all. It was delicious and still warm from the oven.

Our last stop before leaving our beloved dahabiya was “Nile Beach”, where are some of us were perfectly content to just stick our feet in the water. Others, namely, Marianne and John, were far more adventurous.

Look how clear the water in the Nile is!

Our “farewell” dinner was even more spectacular than the other meals we’d enjoyed. We were sad to say goodbye to the crew that took such good care of us.

16 crew members for 9 passengers. Was the service outstanding? You bet!

We all got a surprise when we returned to our cabins. We each got a unique Egyptian creature waiting for us on our beds. I’ve seen towel art before, but these were, by far, the most creative. My favorites were the crocodile and the cobra. ( I got a scorpion).

How to describe the ride from Aswan to Abu Simbel? Three hours of sand, sand, and more sand with high tension wire strung along the roadside, delivering electricity from the dam to the populations further north. We needed to get closer to Abu Simbel for the landscape to change.

We stopped midway in our journey for a bathroom break. I think the term “food desert” was coined here. If it wasn’t, then it should have been. The “snack bar” could be best described as “selection-challenged”, but if you’re looking for potato chips, or packaged mystery snacks, you’ll be very happy.

Our group thought we’d seen so many temples and tombs, there was little left for us to see. Boy, were we wrong! The size of the 4 statues of Ramses 2’s temple ALONE was jaw dropping. But to think that this entire temple was MOVED block by block to the higher ground on which it currently stands, is truly hard to believe. Why is as that done? If it hadn’t been moved, it would now be well below the waters of Lake Nassar.

Back in the 60’s, 50 nations cooperated to rescue several temples threatened to be submerged by the creation of the High Dam at Aswan. To me, the engineering that went into the move was as awe inspiring as the temples.

But wait—there’s more to say about this temple. The ancient Egyptians were so knowledgeable about engineering and astronomy that in the 1200’s BC, they were able to construct this temple so that twice a year, on February 22 and October 22, the sun shone all the way through the temple to illuminate three of the four statues in the inner sanctum. The fourth statue is of Ptah, the god of the underworld, who was intentionally left in darkness. Two of the others represent different versions of Ra, the son god. Bet you can’t guess who was the last statue to be bathed in sunlight. None other than Ramses 2. Clearly he didn’t have a self esteem problem.

That black area falling across their laps is a shadow

Next to Ramses 2’s monument to himself, he built a temple honoring his favorite wife, Nefertari. Remember her? We visited her tomb in the Valley of the Queens.

That old goat lived well into his nineties, acquiring wives and children ( rumored to number approximately 200) along the way. Good thing he lived BEFORE viagra was invented! Of all his women, (thought to number about 100, if you include concubines and mistresses) Nefertari was his favorite—the only one who got her very own temple next to his. There is only one statue of her on the facade. The other five are, of course, of her husband, who was also known as “the Great” (probably self proclaimed).

That random guy standing in front of Nefertari gives you an idea of the scale of these statues.

We only spent one night at the beautiful Seti Hotel in Abu Simbel. Can you see why we were reluctant to leave? The multi-level pool had a swim up bar; each room had a private balcony facing the Nile. It was SO very peaceful.

Before we left for the light show at the temples, we met Hassan, who enlightened us about Nubian culture and history. He also entertained us by playing instruments that were the forerunners of our guitar, banjo and harp.

In 1976, when Hassan visited his cousin in San Francisco, he was invited to play with what he described as “ a small folk group” —the Grateful Dead.

Once again, you had to be there to appreciate how wonderful it was to be sitting under the stars, watching a multimedia show projected onto the temple walls. I didn’t take any shots while the show was ongoing, but did so after, and used that shot the heading for this post.

I truly appreciate everyone’s comments on my blog posts. It almost feels like I’m having a conversation with my friends. Although I know who comments on Facebook and Linked in, many of the comments on WordPress are coming through anonymously. If I didn’t respond to you, that’s why.

Floating on the Nile for Five Glorious nights

I felt like Egyptian royalty, floating up the Nile in our private dahabiya. It’s mind boggling to think that the pharaohs used this mode of transportation centuries ago, when they traveled between their two capitals. Memphis no longer exists, but Thebes still does, except the Greeks changed its name to Luxor.

The dahabiya is certainly is a very comfortable way to travel. Of course, the pharaohs took months to make their journeys, stopping to visit temples along the way. We also are visiting temples, but our river trip only lasts five days.

Although the sails of our boat were unfurled, it was strictly for a photo op. The photo above was taken from the tugboat that pulled us upstream. It is illegal for dahabiyas to have motors because the Egyptian government wants to preserve this ancient mode of transportation. I’m glad they didn’t insist that the tugboat be replaced by a rowboat!

To show you what that looks like, I took the photo below from the back of our dahabiya. The larger boats, and we saw many of them on the river, are allowed to have motors.

We had lots of help climbing from the tug back onto our dahabiya

The Nile starts in Lake Victoria, and flows into the Mediterranean. That means when we travel south, we are going up the river, the opposite of what we are used to. Back in the day, the southern part of Egypt was known as the Upper Kingdom, with the Lower Kingdom extending to the shores of the Mediterranean.

To visit the temples, we had to disembark and when we did it felt like we were walking the gauntlet. The street vendors were laying in wait. “Hey lady, only $5”,or “Welcome to Alaska” which we heard at multiple sites. I didn’t dare take a photo of the chaotic scene. Instead, I focused on walking quickly, avoiding eye contact. It was difficult. I felt I was being rude by ignoring their greetings. After being bamboozled once however, I toughen up.

Was it worth it? Yes! The temples were an oasis of serenity and peace. Although we saw other, larger ships on the Nile, we were the only ones visiting the small temple of Khnum in Esna. Mohammed, our guide, knew the schedule well enough to plan our arrival after the larger ships had departed and before the afternoon ones arrived.

We were able to watch centuries of dirt and muck being cleaned from the temple walls. Mohamed told us that only recently have women been allowed to do restoration work.

Yes, the Sistine chapel’s ceiling is a masterpiece, but the ceilings of Egyptian temples are equally breathtaking. Not only that, but they were painted centuries earlier.

If you were standing below, looking up, this is what you would see. Check out the tops of the columns. Each one is different. It’s difficult to see in the photo, but the hieroglyphics between the columns are depicting the various phases of the moon, something my astronomer husband would have greatly enjoyed.

The next day’s temple was in Edfu. It is dedicated to Horus, the son of Isis and Osiris. Horus’ parents were both brother and sister and husband and wife, which might explain why their offspring had the head of a falcon. Sometimes, as in the statue below, he’s depicted as all bird, but on the temple walls, the carvings show him with a human body.

Horus, outside his temple’s inter sanctuary. His angry look was designed to keep the common folk out of the sacred spaces. On his head are the crowns of Egypt’s upper and lower kingdoms

Like medieval churches, the temple walls are used to tell a story. Here’s the Cliff Notes version of a rather long legend. Osiris was killed by his jealous brother Seth, who chopped him up and scattered the pieces all over Egypt, but Isis found the pieces and (unlike Humpty Dumpty) put Osiris back together again, except for one key piece—his most prized possession. (I hope I don’t have to spell it out for you. ) Anyway, Horus was determined to get revenge for his uncle’s dastardly deed. The two of them fought an epic battle. Although Horus won, during the battle he lost one eye, which then magically came to life. To this day, Horus’ eye is a symbol of healing and well-being.

Our guide claims the following wall carving represents incense being burned. The ladies in the group decided it was actually Osiris’ missing member. You decide who had the better interpretation.

As you can see from the visual of our 5 day journey, we took a temple break to visit a farm on Bishaw Island, where we met members of the village and had lunch in the home of the very charming Sayed.

In the USA, we can step back in time by visiting Plymouth Plantation or Williamsburg, where people dress up in period costumes and demonstrate how different tasks were performed during colonial days.

THIS was authentic. It might look like the village women are making wood fired pizza, but they are actually baking a day’s worth of bread. Sour dough. The loaves all came out perfectly.

Bill was recruited to help remove seeds from hibiscus, which is used to make tea. He was a natural; in fact, he did such a good job, I was wondering if he’d be allowed to leave.

What are these women doing, you ask? Well, they are making sure there are no barley grains among the wheat. Why? I have no idea, and no one thought to ask.

Yes, this baby water buffalo is adorable. Especially when he is tied up. He wasn’t when we entered the enclosure, so he was able to charge at us, first at Bobbie, then when she moved aside, he came at me, either trying to bite or kiss my leg. The only thing I know for sure is the Bobbie and I were left with water buffalo lip smears all over our pants.

Our next stop was far more tame. We visited the quarry from which the pyramids’ sandstone building blocks were cut, then floated down the Nile. That block must have been enormous! I should have had someone stand beside it for scale.

Our final temple (for the cruise part of our adventure) was Kom Ombo, which was again timed to ensure that we avoided the crowds (at least of tourists—not of street vendors). This temple is unique in that it was dedicated to two gods: Sobek, who has the head of a crocodile, and Horus, the falcon, shown here with his human body.

The view of the Nile from inside Kom Ombo

Now here’s something you don’t see every day— mummified crocodiles. A live crocodile, believed to be the earthly incarnation of Sobek, was kept in a pit in the temple. When it died, it was mummified and replaced with another.

Although we have another day on our wonderful dabahiya, this post is already quite long, so I’ll end it with a sneak preview of tomorrow’s activity. Not another temple—tomorrow we go to the livestock market. Let’s see if another animal wants to get up close and personal with me!

Luxor

I was awakened from a deep sleep by Jeanne, who was standing at the foot of my bed, shaking my leg. That was strange, given that we weren’t rooming together. Was it a dream? Nope. It seems I managed to sleep thru my 4AM wake up call, my cell phone alarm, and numerous text messages. They say there’s one in every group, and this time it was me.

Fortunately, I had arrived early for every other meeting, so my group knew I wasn’t t just being an inconsiderate jerk. At least not this time. They were concerned that something bad had happened to me. Was I dead? (I probably looked like I was). Did I meet with foul play? (No). Was I unconscious? (Sorta). What happened was I woke up at 2:35 but made the mistake of not getting up then. Lesson learned. Next time, I’ll grab my phone and do wordle, read email, check Facebook until it is time to leave.

Good thing I had packed almost everything for our flight to Luxor the night before, and laid out my clothes, so with Jeanne’s help, instead of being on the bus at 4:45 AM, my butt was in my seat at 4:52 AM. I’m quite proud to say that those 7 minutes also included the elevator ride all the way down from the 17th floor. Still, l felt bad for keeping the others waiting.

Normally, I put my empty backpack into my carryon, but because I stuffed my toiletries into my carryon (so I could brush my teeth at the airport), I needed to pull out my backpack and allocate the carryon contents between two bags.

Well, I almost left my carryon at security. I was at the check in desk when I realized I should have THREE bags, not two. Yes, you put ALL luggage, including your checked bag thru the X-ray machines, before you arrive at the check in counter to get your boarding pass. Then your carryon goes thru security again, after you dropped off your checked luggage.

Maybe when I get home I’ll do a post about my “interesting” airport experiences, of which, so far, there have been several, especially in Jordan where I got intimately acquainted with security coming and going.

There is far too much to say about Luxor to dwell on my rocky start, so I’ll move on. .

Did you know that 1/3 of the world’s antiquities are in Luxor? And that Luxor was once known as Thebes? I hope those are trivia questions some day.

The reason we had such an early start was so that we could go straight from the airport to the Temple of Karnak, then on to lunch before checking in to our hotel.

At one time this avenue united the Karnak and Luxor temples. Notice the rams head sphinxes that lined the avenue.

Just about everyone has seen photos of Egypt’s temples and tombs, right? But let me tell you, it just isn’t the same. You really DO have to be there to appreciate the immensity of these structures.

Although it looks crowded, and certainly felt that way, this is about half of what the crowds normally are at this time of year.

If you walk counterclockwise around this beetle (scarab) seven times, your wish is supposed to be granted. I had nothing better to do, so why not?

I’ll admit it, by the 7th time around I was starting to feel a little dizzy. But if I get my wish, it will be well worth it.

Lots of school groups were touring Karnak Temple that day. As was our experience in Jordan, the children were adorable and oh so friendly. They blew kisses, waved, shouted “hello” “how are you” and “welcome”.

That evening, five of us had dinner at the home of Mansour and Azza. We were joined by their two gorgeous daughters-in-law and their two very outgoing and entertaining granddaughters.

It was the perfect way to end our first evening in Luxor.

We spent two nights at the historic Winter Palace Hotel. Besides us, other famous guests included Jackie Onassis, Princess Diana, Henry Kissinger, Al Gore and Richard Gere.

On our free afternoon, Jeanne and I enjoyed a glass of wine in the gorgeous gardens. Helpful hint: if you’re going to drink the local Egyptian wine, go for the white.

Our second full day was spent exploring the Valley of the Kings in the morning, and the Valley of the Queens in the afternoon.

The Temple of Queen Hatshepsut, Egypt’s first female ruler, was our first stop on the way to the valley of the Kings. According to historians, her reign was quite successful—no wars, a prosperous economy, but that didn’t stop her successors from trying to completely erase her from history.

Fortunately, archaeologists were able to recreate her story by studying the empty spaces on the walls, and the remaining, very faint outlines.

On our visits to the Valleys of the Kings and Queens, we explored the tombs of Ramses 1, 3, 4 , King Tut and Queen Nefertari (wife of Ramses the Great, also known as Ramses 2). All were spectacular, covered with vibrant hieroglyphics, but Tut’s tomb was unique in that his actual body—with face and feet exposed—is still in his tomb.

I had originally planned to leave Mike’s ashes inside King Tut’s tomb, but then I thought the caretakers might sweep him up, so I went with Plan B. I dug a little hole in the ground outside Tut’s tomb, inserted the ashes, then constructed this little pyramid atop them using stones lying nearby.

Okay, so maybe it doesn’t look like much, but I didn’t take 20 years to build it and I didn’t have the help of thousands of workers.

By the time we’d finished with the tombs, we were all too tired to tour the Temple of Luxor. It was just down the street from our hotel, so I caught a glimpse of the outside at night when it was lit up. That was good enough for me.

Our final Luxor activity was an optional one—a balloon ride over the Valley of the Kings. Only 4 of us were willing to endure yet another early morning departure (5AM). THIS time I was early!

To get to the balloon site, we had to cross the Nile by boat. Well, there were many boats lined up at the pier. To reach our boat, we had to climb through other boats. In one instance, it felt like we were walking “the plank”. But there was a reward. Take a look at what we got for our efforts. Yes indeed, that is a Twinkie in my hand. I hadn’t seen one of those in decades; it was so long ago, they came two in a package! No, I didn’t eat it, but it did make me smile.

The day before our balloon ride , we had seen these statues of Amenhotep III from the ground.

Here is the aerial view.

Next post will be about our 5 day cruise on the Nile.

Croatia, formerly part of Yugoslavia

Thanks so much for the words of encouragement from all who commented on my last post, either here, on Facebook or on LinkedIn. It was great to hear from so many friends. I had no idea you were reading my blog, because unless someone comments, I don’t know who my audience is. Your very kind messages motivated me to continue writing about October’s trip.

Yugoslavia was once made up of 6 countries, and on my recent Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT) trip, I visited four of them: Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia &Herzegovina and Slovenia. I tell you–we are SO very lucky to be able to travel in the USA for thousands of miles without ever having to show our passport. On this trip, we had multiple border crossings, and although our guides knew the tricks to make it as painless as possible (which crossing was less busy, what time is best to cross), it still was an inconvenience that I’m glad is not part of our daily lives.

After 7 of us finished the pre-trip to Albania, we drove through Montenegro to a parking lot by the border where our Albanian guide said goodbye, and Antonia, our guide for the main trip, greeted us (literally) with open arms. How lucky were we to get this dynamo for our tour leader! She was funny, creative, attentive, and so very joyous. She started out by giving us the good news that we were staying at a different hotel in Dubrovnik, a five star, because our original (4 star) hotel was still being renovated. As the millennials would say, “OMG”! The Valamar President Hotel was truly magnificent–right on the ocean, with spectacular views of the sunset. Here’s an example of one.

Scott and Gretta, two of my favorite fellow travelers. Scott had the foresight to bring a corkscrew and glasses on the bus so that we could enjoy the wine we bought along the way. It made those very long bus trips quite entertaining!

Prior to embarking on the trip, I had googled the original hotel’s location (I know, I’m obsessive/compulsive) and was slightly disappointed because it seemed quite far from the old city. I got over that disappointment real fast, because it was so easy to get to and from our new, improved hotel, (which happened to be in the same area as the original one). We were given a free pass, the buses ran frequently, and we got off right in front of our hotel. By the way, did I mention our hotel was magnificent?

When we arrived at the hotel, we were joined by the 9 remaining members of our group who opted not to take the pre-trip, including my dear friend Augusta.

One of Dubrovnik’s big attractions is walking along the city walls, which we did on our second day in the old town.

It isn’t obvious from this photo, but there was a lot of up and down along the wall, with very uneven steps. But don’t let the following photo dissuade you from exploring the ramparts. One of our fellow travelers, who is in her 80’s, managed to climb up and down without a problem. I found that truly inspiring–and very encouraging for someone who is hoping to be traveling well into HER 80’s. (In case you have’t guessed, that someone would be me).

That evening, dinner was “on our own”. Antonia walked us along a beautiful path that hugged the ocean which was lined with fantastic restaurants, telling us a little about each as we passed. When she said, “This one makes the best gin and tonics in all of Croatia”, Augusta and I knew we had found our place. What made it the best? Not only was the drink served in a beautiful glass, but the creation of it was something to behold. (click on the underlined words if you want to watch our waiter construct that masterpiece).

Dinner by the sea was delightful, and the Croatian sunsets were consistently magnificent.

But the most memorable part of our time in Croatia was the talk given by a woman who had lived in Dubrovnik during the Balkan war. At that time, she was in her early 20’s. Overnight, her life changed. She had been a carefree young woman until, after a night on the town with friends, she was awakened by the sound of bombs dropping. One might expect her talk to have been depressing. It was not. It was actually an inspiring story about the resilience of the Croatian people as they learned how to survive for three months without water and electricity. She told us she quickly learned what was really important, and it wasn’t money. ”What good was it to have money, if there was nothing you could buy”, she asked.

Her talk took place in what was once Napoleon’s fort, and is now a museum housing memorabilia and information about the Serbian and Montenegrin attacks on Dubrovnik, a World Heritage site.

In case you’re wondering about the picture of the soldier on her right, that’s Orlando. His statue currently is located in the main square, where in days of old, decrees were read and citizens would gather to be entertained by watching the bad guys get their just punishment. (Don’t judge–they didn’t have TV or the internet back then).

This is what Orlando looks like now. It’s hard to see him, or his all important elbow, because there is a protective barrier surrounding the statue. At some point, he will be removed to have the statue version of a spa treatment, and will be returned, thoroughly restored and rejuvenated..

So who was he, and why did I mention his elbow? Well, legend has it that Orlando was a nephew of Charlemagne. Perhaps you know him by his alias, Roland? More importantly, his right arm, from fingertip to elbow, was used to measure fabric, which was traded in that very square. Why his forearm? I have no idea. It certainly makes as much sense as the inches, feet and yards WE use. By the way, there are only three non-metric countries on this planet: the USA, Liberia and Myanmar (so we are in good company, indeed). Saturday Night Live did a hilarious skit about our use of the “imperial” system. But I digress…

Our return to Dubrovnik’s center via the tram gave us this phenomenal view. By the time we made it to town, however, I had seen enough of the walled city and was more than ready to return to relax on our hotel’s private beach. Little secret: it’s hot in town, and crowded, so I was grateful for free time, my bus ticket and my luxurious hotel.

It may be difficult to see on the map atop this post, but Croatia is rather oddly shaped. The non-French say it is shaped like a bird in flight. To the French it looks like a croissant. To me, it resembles a gerrymandered voting district. Can you see that little gap that gives Bosnia & Herzegovina access to the ocean? Because of that gap, someone traveling just a few miles north from Dubrovnik could be subject to TWO border crossings: leaving Croatia to enter Bosnia, then again when reentering Croatia, and it would happen again when they did their return trip.

While in Dubrovnik, we took a day trip to lovely Kotor, Montenegro, then headed for three nights in Sarajevo, Bosnia, after which we returned to Croatia for 6 more days before heading to Slovenia, for three nights, then heading home. Got that? I don’t have the energy to fit all of that into one post, and you probably wouldn’t want to read one that long anyway, so this post only focuses on Croatia and Montenegro.

Our day trip to Kotor started with a breathtakingly beautiful ride on our private boat. I think it was during that ride that someone dubbed Antonia “the child with power”.

Kotor is a lovely medieval city with palaces, restaurants, gift shops, and like other medieval towns, it had its share of stories and legends, which I promptly forgot. What I didn’t forget was the women we encountered, holding the banner that says “We remember the Morinj camp”, which is where Croatian prisoners were held in deplorable conditions from 1991 until 1992. The banners act as an acknowledgement and an apology for Montenegro’s role in the Balkan War. I found that rather refreshing.

Are you ready for a break from war talk? Instead, let me tell you about Karanic, the Croatian village we visited on our way to Zagreb. OAT trips usually include”a day in the life” of the country’s inhabitants, but this was the first time the “day in the life” included an overnight stay. These encounters are designed to provide an opportunity to see non-tourist areas and get exposure to different aspects of the local culture.

Our group, at Karanic, with Dennis, our host.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but our accommodations exceeded anything I could imagine. The home had sufficient rooms for us all, each with a private bath (whew).

The food was delicious. Some of us helped with the cooking–others captured the moments via cell phone photography.

Karanac was a nice interlude before our stay in Zagreb. When we arrived at our hotel, we noticed it was filled with men wearing team shirts. Unbeknownst to me, we were sharing the lobby with the 2018 World Cup champion football team. This became apparent when we passed a building that was plastered with a photo of the guys we had just seen in the lobby. If only I were a sports fan…

Zagreb had experienced an earthquake in 2020, so some of the buildings were still being repaired. Still, as you can see, the city offers something for everyone. I can’t offer commentary on these attractions, because I didn’t sample any of them.

What I CAN tell you is the Bornstein Winery is not to be missed. It was educational, delicious, and oh so much fun! Six of us visited there during our free time. Who knew that a Croatian immigrant took zinfandel vines to California many years ago?

There is a whole lot more I can say about Croatia, and the other countries on this fabulous trip. Maybe someday I will, but right now, it’s time to prepare for the next adventure. I hope you’ll come along!

Travel, Love and Loss

I started this blog in 2011, when my husband chose not to go on a bike trip with me. I was convinced that when he read my blog and saw all the fun my photos captured, he would surely have a change of heart. OF COURSE he would want to accompany me the next time I decided to see the countryside via two wheels. Boy, was I ever wrong! Despite my sparkling narrative and museum quality photos, he never chose to experience a bike trip, or to become a Global Volunteer. He did, however, enjoy my blog, so when I embarked on solo journeys, my blog became a way for him to share in the adventures from the comfort of our home.

Most of the time, however, we traveled together. My blog became a supplement to our memories of our fun times. And, given that our minds were no longer as sharp as they were when we started traveling 23 years ago, it provided a way for us to check back and see whether we actually DID visit certain places and if we did, what year it happened.

Bariloche, in February, 2019, before Covid rocked everyone’s world and disrupted our ability to travel.

I was in Ireland when Mike got the news that his cancer had returned. After my solo trip to Ireland, we had planned to meet in London, spend a few days there and then go on to Paris. Instead, I returned home to join him for his appointment at Memorial Sloan Kettering. His doctor gave us the shattering news that the average life span for someone with Mike’s form of cancer was about 18 months. It was even worse. Mike only lived 4 more months.

Mike was not my only loss. Four months earlier, my younger sister died suddenly from a mysterious infection. Not only were she and Mike my travel buddies, they were also my emergency contacts (Mike when I traveled with Sandy, Sandy when I traveled with Mike). To say I was devastated would be putting it mildly.

Celebrating our July birthdays in Lucca, in 2012.

I had heard that grief can cause the bereaved to act in strange ways. It certainly was true for me. Within a week of Mike’s death, I had booked a ridiculously expensive trip around the world on a private jet. The next morning I awoke, came to my senses, and immediately canceled that trip. Instead, I thought about the number of trips I could take for that same amount of money and began planning them. It has been quite therapeutic.

I soon discovered that I didn’t want to be home for our milestones: I spent October 15, the anniversary of the day Mike and I met, in Slovenia. Although I had started to blog again while in Albania, I found myself thinking, “what’s the point? Mike and Sandy won’t be reading this”.

My first year end holidays without Mike will be spent in Egypt. We had seen the pyramids together for our 25th anniversary, and were planning to return in March of 2023, but the return of Mike’s cancer obviously disrupted those plans.

Mike died in February of 2023, exactly a month before the departure of the trip we had selected. But something tells me a part of him will be with me in the Valley of the Kings.

I continue to remind myself how very lucky I am. Mike and I had 47 years together. Through good times and bad, we managed to accumulate a lifetime of wonderful memories. Most importantly, we produced an amazing son, who is a constant source of comfort.

My son reminded me to focus on what I HAVE, not what I have lost. So here’s one of the many things I still have: the ability to travel whenever and wherever I want. These are all enormous blessings that I will never take for granted. And if the spirit moves me, I’ll blog about it. Maybe it will become a part of the healing process.

On My Own in Tirana, Albania

I spent the majority of my first full day in Tirana walking around the city, exploring two of the attractions recommended in my OAT Final Documents booklet. First stop was at the Komiteti-Kafe Museum for an “American coffee” and a look at what was described as Soviet Era artifacts. I don’t know whether what I found qualified as Soviet “stuff”. It appeared much too whimsical and colorful, two adjectives that I suspect were never used to describe the USSR.

I probably wouldn’t put the coffee shop on a list of top attractions, but the walk getting there and back was fun. Tirana has lots of green space, bike lanes and pedestrian walkways— and I do love to explore on foot.

I had to get closer to the beautiful mosque appearing in the distance. A gift from the Turkish government, it is, and will remain, closed until Erdogan arrives for a dedication ceremony.

Man oh man, Tirana is BOOMING! Lots of new construction everywhere. During the ride from the airport, I noticed the very drab, but functional architecture, presumably from the Soviet era. The current construction is colorful, joyous and oh, so interesting!

I had no idea what this building would become until our tour on my second day with our pre-trip guide. Ilir took us along a different street. He told us the colored squares will become classrooms in this future digital center.

It is difficult to see the pyramid behind the trees. If you’d like a better view and a history of the pyramid, click here. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyramid_of_Tirana. The steps were added to allow people to safely climb to the top. Previously they were clambering up the smooth sides, then sliding down!

One advantage to being on your own is you can stop to take photos whenever you like, and I liked to do that a lot. I loved this bridge. While on it, you have access to free wi-fi, which I didn’t need because I had switched to TMobile. Unlike Verizon, international access is free for everything except voice calls. (Thanks to the Facebook page “Friends of OAT” for educating me about internet access outside of the USA). Knowing I could consult google maps whenever I wanted enabled me to wander freely without fear of getting lost.

As I made my way to the Sali Shijaku House (OAT’s other recommendation), I walked thru Tirana’s Castle, which was taken over by the Topani family in 1798. I had seen the Topani name everywhere, most prominently at the nearby mall entrance, and wondered what the word meant. A plaque before the castle explained that Topani is the name of a noble family “rich and educated with strong ties to the Ottoman Empire and the west which they used to help the country while it took the independence road.” The plaque goes on to explain the rivalry between the Topanis and the Barginis which was ultimately resolved by intermarriage. Just think, if the Montagues and Capulets had used intermarriage to resolve their disputes Shakespeare wouldn’t have had material for Romeo and Juliet.

Not much remains of the original castle structure other than these walls and something called a “Bailey”. (You won’t see a photo of the Bailey because I have no idea what it is). Walking thru that arch brings you to a walkway with lovely shops and an abundance of restaurants, one of which I chose for lunch.

I had a wonderful inexpensive lunch with a glass of sparkling wine at this restaurant.

But back to the home of the artist Sali Shijaku, my second destination. After exploring his residence, which is filled with his paintings, I sat in the garden and enjoyed the ambiance while sipping a cup of tea. It’s hard to believe that over the years, this 300 year old structure has been a hospital, women’s prison and military building.

Some other sights from my walk thru Tirana:

Although not colorful, this building’s three dimensional structure appealed to me.

The new building towers over the old church tower.

After exploring, I returned to the hotel to meet 4 of my traveling companions. After a brief walk with our guide, we got to know each other over dinner at Roxana Tuna House. As is often the case on OAT trips, they are all friendly and so very interesting. That’s another reason I enjoy traveling with OAT—congenial companions. We will meet the last couple tomorrow because they encountered flight delays.

Time to stop babbling about this wonderful city and get some rest.

Tirana, Albania

2020 was supposed to be Mike’s and my biggest travel year ever. It feels like a lifetime ago that we booked trips to Croatia, Germany, Japan and Egypt. We (more likely the optimist of this twosome) were so confident that covid would be over in several months that we didn’t take a cash refund. Instead we opted for travel credits with bonus incentives.

Fast forward three and a half years. I’m now working my way through those credits, beginning with this trip to Eastern Europe, which starts with OAT’s pre-trip to Tirana, Albania.

One of the many reasons I enjoy traveling with Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT) is the ability to customize my trip. I figure if I’m going to subject my body and my money to a cross Atlantic flight, I’m going to stay for as long as I can, so in addition to the pre-trip, I decided to fly in a day early to get acclimated.

So far, everything has gone smoothly, starting with a great experience on Austrian Air. Passport control at Tirana’s airport was incredibly efficient. You scan your passport, which opens a gate, then get your picture taken, which opens a second gate and you’re DONE. It was so FAST. But the time I gained at passport control, I lost in bumper to bumper traffic on the way to the Oxford hotel. It took over an hour to go 11 miles, making me feel like I was back in Houston, Texas. The timing actually worked out fine, because by the time I got to the hotel, I only had to wait about 10 minutes for my room to be ready.

The room is small, but lovely, with a shower that makes the standard size in cruises look huge by comparison. I suspect I’ll be missing Mike even more than usual tomorrow morning, because when we traveled, he always showered first, figuring out how the fixtures worked, and setting the temperature just right for me. (It’s always those little things that do you in when you lose your spouse).

Take a look—no need for a bidet in this bathroom. All you have to do is swivel and lift your butt. That is, if you can figure out which faucet turns on which of the two shower heads. Yes, tomorrow will indeed be interesting because there’s not a lot of room for error. Fortunately we learned the ‘towel on the shower floor’ trick because I’ll bet that marble makes the floor extremely slippery when wet! I just hope that floor drain isn’t clogged!

But enough bathroom humor. What about the town, you ask? I remember Laura, our guide in Patagonia telling us, “There’s no such thing as bad weather; only inappropriate clothing choices.” Fortunately, I packed appropriately, and checked the weather so I wasn’t daunted by the rain. It also helps that the Oxford is perfectly located—right across from a mall ( where I bought 3 liters of water for less than $1), close to ATMS, cafes and restaurants, squares and sights. I love the art on the sides of buildings.

Wonder which of these books would be banned in America?

This is a very strange image. What is the artist trying to say?

I was surprised that George W Bush had a major street named after him in Tirana. I recall the people in Africa revered him because of his involvement during the AIDS crisis. But Albania? Clearly he has his admirers—and some detractors— who covered his name with stickers.

Tirana is full of surprises—here’s another: The Italian Institute of Culture building. I know from experience that Albanians make fantastic Italian food. My favorite Italian restaurant is run by Albanians. Clearly there is a bond between those two countries that I will explore with my guide when I meet him tomorrow.

What’s with that zig-zaggy structure in front of the building? Is it a picnic table? A runway? An altar for sacrificing virgins?

This area was once part of the Ottoman Empire, so I was not surprised when I passed a mosque just in time for the call to prayer. If you want to check out the weather and share in the mosque experience, here’s the YouTube link. I wasn’t successful uploading the video to WordPress. Maybe this will work. https://youtube.com/shorts/RXIjSq3ElqM?si=BxfwMJnXN6hBMHFd

On the MAIN trip, which starts on Sunday, we will travel to Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia & Herzegovina, ending up in Slovenia. My friend Augusta will be joining me in Dubrovnik for the main trip. She frequently traveled with Mike and me in the past, prompting one of our fellow travelers to dub Mike “the man who travels with two wives”.

Below is a visual of our journey through some of the former Yugoslavian countries.

Tomorrow or Wednesday, I will connect with the 6 travelers that opted for the pre-trip, then on Sunday, we will join with the remaining 9 travelers in our group of 16.

Three Nights in Palermo

First, let me say that right now I’m having an absolutely wonderful time. I’m with great friends, the sun is shining, we are drinking Prosecco. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Yesterday, however, was a different experience. You know that old saying, “you ain’t seen nothing yet?” Well, that’s what came to mind when we arrived in Palermo. Remember the bad food in Ortigia? The 59 steps in Modica? The “terrifying” ride? Well, we got ‘em all in Palermo, and then some.

That scary ride I described in my last post? Well, yes, that road was indeed narrow and winding, but it wasn’t lined with trash cans, and there were no motorbikes, pedestrians or oncoming traffic on it. Palermo had all that — and more. I would still be recovering from PTSD if I’d been driving, or if Mike had been driving, one of us would probably have filed for divorce. But once again, Diane amazed us all with her calm, proficient driving.

It was MUCH worse than this. People were also flying by on scooters.

After driving down what WE would call alleys, but Italians call streets, we arrived at the “meeting point”. We succeeded in effectively blocking traffic, while we waited for Giovanni to find us. He then guided three of us (with our luggage) to the “bed and breakfast”, leaving Diane blocking traffic until he could return to guide her to a parking lot.

Meanwhile, our three heroines were confronted with 59 steps (the exact number of steps as Modica—if my grandmother had been alive she would have called her bookie to “play” that number). Once again, I was grateful to the exercises classes at the Y, because we carried our own bags —and my two weigh about 27 pounds. But the best is yet to come. After our trek, we discovered that Sally and I were not only sharing a room, we were also sharing a bed. Fortunately king sized, but still.

I’ll confess, I was NOT happy. (Neither was Sally). For a brief period, I turned into the Ugly American, muttering, frowning and using my phone to search for alternative lodging. But the thought of carrying those bags DOWN 59 steps, and then someplace else gave us all pause.

My three traveling companions found solace in the cafe across the street, while I, knowing how drunk I would get on an empty stomach, dug into the cheese and salami we’d brought with us. Lo and behold, when I tried to join them, I discovered I couldn’t unlock the lobby’s front door. And I was alone. All alone.

The instructions SHOULD have read “push the button in the middle, wait till the light stops circling and forms an upside down horse shoe shape, grab the handle, then PULL.

After trying every single combo I could think of, except the correct one, I finally called Karen, who willingly walked up those 59 steps to rescue me. I owe her BIG time!

Our dinner that night could not be described as delicious, but the chef acknowledged the lack of culinary excellence by offering us free lemoncello. We ended a rather challenging day on a positive note, and after a good night’s sleep, everything seemed MUCH better!

Time for some photos of the GOOD stuff:

The main altar in the cathedral at Monreale

Mosaics along the walls visualize biblical stories. Check out Eve telling Adam to eat the apple so he’d get smarter, Adam and Eve modeling the latest fig leaf fashions, Abraham getting ready to kill his son and Rebecca at the well.

The best seats in the house are, of course, in the “royal box”. We got a glimpse during our tour of Teatro Massimo, the third largest opera house in Europe.

This fountain was created in Florence and reassembled here in Palermo. Check out the expressions on the statues’ faces.

One full day left until we leave for Taormina.

Three Nights in Modica

We had just gotten the hang of Ortigia, easily finding our way around, when it was time to hit the road for Rick Steve’s recommended stop on our way to Modica.

After picking up our rental car, we headed for Noto, following (or trying to follow) Rick’s directions. How many iPhones does it take to get us to the right place? Well, with us, the correct answer is three…using a combo of google and Apple Maps. I’m recommending Diane for sainthood, because she kept her cool driving down impossibly narrow streets, while getting conflicting directions from her three passengers.

We all felt better after our fantastic lunch at Marpessa Restaurant, so we forgave Rick for being somewhat vague with his directions. The restaurant was next to Noto’s historic theater and was the starting point for the little tourist train, so of course, we had to experience both.

That pair singing a duet looks very familiar

It wasn’t a hop on/hop off. It just circled the town. Was it worth it? In my opinion, Hell, no.

Because of our late start, and a few wrong turns, we arrived in Modica much later than expected. Our rental was billed as an elegant private retreat close to St Georgio’s cathedral in the historic center of Modica. All true, although “center” was a bit of a stretch. Equally true, but unsaid, was the fact that everything was just “steps” away… 59 steps, to be exact, UP from the cathedral (where we were instructed to park) to the little lane where our rental was located. I know, because I counted.

Like many Italian towns, Modica is built into the hillside. We were grateful for the occasional flat surface between the steps. We are on our way to the restaurant 268 steps below

Fortunately, we had all agreed to limit ourselves to one carry on, plus one personal item (backpack/small duffel/large purse, as allowed by ITA). Good thing we all are relatively fit, because although the rental agent helped with 2 of the bags, we carried the remaining 6. Guess what? Roller bags don’t work well on stairs.

Our vacation rental in Modica is absolutely beautiful. The three level patio has a hot tub, dining table and lots of chairs for lounging. And we are undoubtedly ladies who lounge. We also eat and drink wine. Lots of wine.

Our home for three nights has some rather exotic features, like my round bed, with a jacuzzi located right behind it.

After frolicking in the jacuzzi, you don’t have far to go to have a different religious experience. Check out how close we are to the cathedral. You can see the dome from our patio. Not only that, but you can HEAR the bells ringing — at 8 AM, noon and 8 PM. Some church bells are lovely. These are not. They sound like someone threw multiple metal instruments into a washing machine and pressed SPIN.

This is what the dome looks like from the inside

Lorenzo, our rental agent, and new best friend, has been a regular visitor. Why? Because four reasonably intelligent, well educated and relatively successful women were unable to: unlock the front door (after returning from dinner our first night), start the dishwasher (our second night), and get the dryer part of the combo washer/dryer to actually dry our wet clothes. The clothes got HOT, but were still wet. How can that be???

It looks like we may have a trifecta of Lorenzo visits, because after heating for two days, the hot tub is actually only a warm tub. We leave for Enna tomorrow morning, so this evening is our last chance to use it.

Despite a few minor glitches, I have to say I love this place and will be sorry to leave it tomorrow. We had fun grocery shopping, cooking together (mostly done by Karen and Diane with Sally and I being a grateful and appreciative audience) and just hanging out.

What’s YOUR Travel Style?

Do you prefer organized tours or would you rather choose your own itinerary and pace? There are definite advantages to both modes of travel, and I enjoy each. I’ve discovered that the key to maximizing pleasure is to understand exactly WHY you are taking the trip. Is your goal to see as many sights as possible? Or do you hanker for a slower pace, enjoying the companionship of a few close friends?

Lucky me—I’ve been able to do both types of trips to Sicily, so I can compare and contrast. You see, in 2017, my husband and I took an Overseas Adventure Trip (OAT), spending 16 days based in Palermo, Mazara, Piazza Armerina, Ragusa, and Catania.

Currently I’m traveling with three good friends, who planned everything, and are willing to do all the driving. Not surprisingly, this trip is far less structured than the OAT trip. Although we will be based in different cities: Ortigia, Modica, Enna, Palermo and Taormina, we will be covering similar ground.

Our first two days were somewhat grueling, with an overnight flight to Rome, followed by an afternoon flight to Catania, and a 45 minute ride to our first hotel, Algila Ortigia Charme Hotel, our home for three nights.

They say you can’t get a bad meal in Italy. Well, Sally and I accomplished the impossible, with TWO bad meals—a dinner on our first night and lunch on the second. Breakfasts, on the other hand, were at the hotel and were fantastic!

The world’s worst pizza. Fortunately, Sally was able to see the humor of the experience

We finally wised up and avoided the places around tourist attractions. All meals henceforth were at restaurants down little side streets and THAT is where the food exceeded expectations.

Karen and Diane on left, Sally and me on right

Also on Via Cavour was an abundance of little shops. We discovered Sebastian’s shop, in which he was selling various flavors of ‘cello. After sampling several, Diane and I, slightly drunk by then, purchased limoncello and almondcello.

Of course, we had to make purchases here. A magnet for me and a mobile for Diane and Karen

Although we did see the normal Ortigia sites, over our three night stay, it was at a much slower pace than when Mike and I visited. For our OAT trip, we only spent a half a day in Ortigia, and saw the same attractions. Of course, we didn’t spend as much time being lost and confused, because we had a guide. We also didn’t sleep as late either.

I am grateful to Sally, Diane and Karen for including me on this trip—my first since Mike died. It is comforting to be among good friends while I process my loss.

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