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            • packing list for el camino de santiago 2018
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    • on returning home
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  • Home
  • about ~ wander.essence ~
    • ~ the places i’ve been ~
    • ~ places i’ve been in the u.s.a. ~
  • Travel Destinations
    • America
      • Boston
      • Delaware
      • District of Columbia
        • Washington
      • Georgia
        • Atlanta
      • Maryland
      • New Jersey
        • Cape May
      • New York
        • Adirondacks
        • Buffalo
        • Niagara Falls
      • Pennsylvania
        • Pittsburgh
      • South Carolina
      • Tennessee
        • Nashville
      • Virginia
    • American Road Trips
      • Canyon & Cactus Road Trip
      • Florida Road Trip
        • Everglades
        • Fort Lauderdale
        • Florida Keys
        • Miami
        • St. Augustine
      • Four Corners Road Trip
        • Arizona
          • Monument Valley
          • Petrified Forest National Park
          • Sunset Crater National Monument
          • Walnut Canyon National Monument
          • Winslow
          • Wupatki National Monument
        • Colorado
          • Colorado National Monument
          • Colorado Towns
          • Great Sand Dunes National Park
          • Grand Junction
        • New Mexico
        • Utah
          • Arches National Park
          • Canyonlands
          • Navajo National Monument
          • Dead Horse Point State Park
          • Hovenweep National Monument
          • Moab
          • Valley of the Gods
          • Natural Bridges National Monument
      • Great Lakes Road Trip
        • Michigan
        • Minnesota
        • Wisconsin
      • Midwestern Triangle
        • Illinois
          • Carbondale
          • Murphysboro
        • Kentucky
          • Covington
          • Lexington
          • Louisville
        • Ohio
          • Cincinnati
      • Road Trip to Nowhere
        • Nebraska
        • North Dakota
        • South Dakota
      • Tex-New Mex Road Trip
        • Texas & New Mexico Road Trip
        • New Mexico
        • Texas
    • International Travel
      • Africa
        • african meanderings {& musings}
        • Egypt
          • Cairo
        • Ethiopia
        • Morocco
      • Asia
        • Cambodia
        • China
          • China Diaries
          • Guangxi Province
        • India
          • Rishikesh
          • Varanasi
        • Japan
          • Kyoto
        • Myanmar
        • Oman
          • a nomad in the land of nizwa
          • Nizwa
        • Singapore
        • South Korea
          • catbird in korea
        • Thailand
        • Turkey
          • Cappadocia
        • Vietnam
      • Central America
        • Costa Rica
        • El Salvador
        • Nicaragua
        • Panama
          • Bocas del Toro
          • Panama City
      • Europe
        • In Search of a Thousand Cafés
        • Croatia
          • Dalmatia
            • Istria
            • Dubrovnik
            • Plitvice Lakes National Park
            • Split
            • Zadar
            • Zagreb
        • Czech Republic
          • Český Krumlov
        • England
        • France
        • Greece
        • Hungary
          • Budapest
          • Esztergom
        • Iceland
        • Italy
          • Bergamo
          • Cinque Terre
          • The Dolomites
          • Florence
          • Rome
          • Tuscany
          • Venice
          • Verona
          • Via Francigena
        • Portugal
        • Spain
          • Camino de Santiago
            • packing list for el camino de santiago 2018
      • North America
        • Canada
          • The Maritimes
            • New Brunswick
            • Nova Scotia
            • Prince Edward Island
          • Ontario
        • Mexico
          • Guanajuato
          • Mexico City
            • Teotihuacán
          • Querétaro
          • San Miguel de Allende
      • South America
        • Colombia
        • Ecuador
          • Cuenca
          • Quito
    • how to make the most of a staycation
      • Coronavirus Coping
  • Imaginings
    • imaginings: the call to place
  • Travel Preparation
    • journeys: anticipation & preparation
  • Travel Creativity
    • on keeping a travel journal
    • on creating art from travels
      • Art Journaling
    • photography inspiration
      • Photography
    • writing prompts: prose
      • Prose
        • Fiction
        • Travel Essay
        • Travelogue
    • writing prompts: poetry
      • Poetry
  • On Journey
    • on journey: taking ourselves from here to there
  • Books & Movies
    • books | international a-z |
    • books & novels | u.s.a. |
    • books | history, spirituality, personal growth & lifestyle |
    • movies | international a-z |
    • movies | u.s.a. |
  • On Returning Home
    • on returning home
  • Annual recap
    • twenty-fifteen
    • twenty-eighteen
    • twenty-nineteen
    • twenty-twenty
    • twenty-twenty-one
    • twenty twenty-two
    • twenty twenty-three
    • twenty twenty-four
    • twenty twenty-five
  • Contact

wander.essence

wander.essence

Home from Morocco & Italy

Home sweet home!May 10, 2019
I'm home from Morocco & Italy. :-)

Italy trip

Traveling to Italy from MoroccoApril 23, 2019
On my way to Italy!

Leaving for Morocco

Casablanca, here I come!April 4, 2019
I'm on my way to Casablanca. :-)

Home from our Midwestern Triangle Road Trip

Driving home from Lexington, KYMarch 6, 2019
Home sweet home from the Midwest. :-)

Leaving for my Midwestern Triangle Road Trip

Driving to IndianaFebruary 24, 2019
Driving to Indiana.

Returning home from Portugal

Home sweet home from Spain & Portugal!November 6, 2018
Home sweet home from Spain & Portugal!

Leaving Spain for Portugal

A rendezvous in BragaOctober 26, 2018
Rendezvous in Braga, Portgual after walking the Camino de Santiago. :-)

Leaving to walk the Camino de Santiago

Heading to Spain for the CaminoAugust 31, 2018
I'm on my way to walk 790 km across northern Spain on the Camino de Santiago.

Home from my Four Corners Road Trip

Home Sweet Home from the Four CornersMay 25, 2018
Home Sweet Home from the Four Corners. :-)

My Four Corners Road Trip!

Hitting the roadMay 1, 2018
I'm hitting the road today for my Four Corners Road Trip: CO, UT, AZ, & NM!

Recent Posts

  • the september cocktail hour: finland & norway October 5, 2026
  • three nights in geiranger & two nights in lillehammer, norway October 4, 2026
  • a 10(+2)-hour train trip from bodø, three nights in trondheim, & the largest waterfall in sweden September 29, 2026
  • exploring norway: svolvær & the lofoten islands, then a return to bodø September 26, 2026
  • a short cruise on hurtigruten’s ms vesterålen: bergen to lofoten, norway September 21, 2026
  • a week in bergen, norway September 18, 2026
  • six nights in turku, finland September 10, 2026
  • five nights in vaasa (& the kvarken archipelago) in finland September 4, 2026
  • the august cocktail hour: a few last days in virginia, then on to denmark & finland September 1, 2026
  • five nights in tampere, finland August 31, 2026
  • a week in helsinki, finland with a day trip to porvoo August 25, 2026
  • a week in aarhus, denmark August 20, 2026
  • a week in copenhagen, denmark with forays to roskilde, helsingør & koge August 13, 2026

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louisville, kentucky: of bourbon, bridles and boxers

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 23, 2019

Louisville, Kentucky. The city’s nicknames reveal its many sides: Derby City, River City, Gateway to the South, Falls City, The ‘Ville.  Founded by George Rogers Clark and named for Louis XVI, it was my least favorite of the cities I visited during my Midwestern Triangle Road Trip.

Maybe it was the gloomy and cold weather that put me off. Maybe it was the heavy cast iron structures on Whiskey Row. Maybe it was the dark brick, blackened windows and earth colors of the imposing buildings in West Main District.  Maybe it was the lack of a mural arts program such as Cincinnati’s or Philadelphia’s, and a profusion of messy graffiti.  Maybe it was my inability to find charm in any of the neighborhoods. On the day I visited, the steely skies seemed magnified by the colors and heaviness of the buildings, the general dereliction of the neighborhoods.

There were good things of course.  Churchill Downs immersed me in the history and excitement of the Kentucky Derby. I enjoyed the Frazier History Museum, where I learned all about bourbon: the bottles, speakeasies, and whiskey’s artistic side; I learned about bourbon barrels, limestone, wood, farming, grains, crops, and water – all the things that converge in Kentucky to make the perfect bourbon possible.

“The Lewis & Clark Experience” taught me about the Corps of Discovery, the specially-established unit of the United States Army that formed the nucleus of the Lewis and Clark Expedition from May 1804 to September 1806, and what eventually became of them: their keelboat and supplies; York, the only black man in the party — slave and manservant to William Clark since they were young; the young Indian woman, Sacagawea, and her baby and husband, who shared a tent with Lewis and Clark for most of the journey, and whose skills and resilience saved the mission more than once.

I learned about Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer, a flamboyant figure who rose to fame during the Civil War but met his end at the Battle of Little Bighorn. I saw Teddy Roosevelt’s Big Stick and Custer’s pistols.

I admired watercolors of life along the Ohio River by Harlan Hubbard (1900-1988), who lived with his wife on a shantyboat, floating up and down the Ohio River for five years; he wrote the book, Shantyboat: A River Way of Life.  On the 2nd floor, I saw a German miniatures collection, which soldiers used to plot war maneuvers.

On the first floor was an amazing exhibit of photographs of Americana related to travel — kitschy American places and signs, gas pumps, coke machines and coke bottles from the 50s and 60s. This was the stuff of my childhood, so I traveled back in time in the exhibit titled “Road Map to Heaven,” through photographs taken by Linda Bruckheimer.  After my delightful discovery of remnants of Route 66 last year during my Four Corners Road Trip, I found inspiration in these photographs.  I want to keep taking American road trips and finding evidence of time at a standstill.

I watched the 35-minute film of Kentucky Show! narrated by actress Ashley Judd, a native Kentuckian. I learned about the different landscapes in Kentucky, the economics of coal-mining and bourbon-making and horse breeding and racing.  I heard the voices of famous Kentuckians, including writer Bobbie Ann Mason.  I learned about the importance of the city’s location, basketball in the state, and politics.  The film captured the essence of Kentucky.

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Frazier History Museum

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Bourbon display at the Frazier

The Lewis & Clark Experience
The Lewis & Clark Experience
"Road Map to Heaven"
“Road Map to Heaven”
German miniatures
German miniatures

I couldn’t figure out what a 30-foot-tall gold statue of David was doing on Main Street.  I walked past the Louisville Slugger Museum notable for the 120-foot-tall baseball bat leaning against it. Erected in July 1996, the hollow carbon steel bat weighs 34 tons and simulates the 34-inch long wooden bat used by Babe Ruth in the early 1920s.  It is covered with the same kind of paint used on battleships.  Since I have little interest in baseball, I didn’t bother to go in.  But I did love that bat.

At Los Aztecas, I sat at the bar and ate lunch of a chili relleno and ground beef taco, with refried beans and pink lemonade.  It was cozy and warm, and here I could see Louisville society in microcosm.

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30-foot-tall gold statue of David

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Louisville Slugger Museum & Factory

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downtown Louisville

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downtown Louisville

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downtown Louisville

Los Aztecas
Los Aztecas
at the bar at Los Aztecas
at the bar at Los Aztecas
chili relleno, taco with refried beans
chili relleno, taco with refried beans

At the Muhammad Ali Center, I watched a fascinating movie, “If You Can Dream,” narrated by James Earl Jones and Maya Angelou.  Exhibits showed the famous boxer’s early boxing career during the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War. I had forgotten that he was originally Cassius Clay but changed his name when he converted to Islam; he wanted to rid himself of that slave name. He also refused to go to Vietnam when he was drafted because he would not aid in white domination over dark-skinned people by killing.

In his early days, he had quite an ego, and plenty of gusto, confidence and bravado, but he was certainly a man who lived by his convictions. The museum, in a prominent spot looking over I-64 and the Ohio River, was well done, leaving me impressed with this man’s contribution to the world. Ali’s six core guiding principles were 1) confidence, 2) conviction, 3) dedication, 4) giving, 5) respect, and 6) spirituality.

This museum showed the best of Louisville.  It took a hard look at racism and the immorality of the Vietnam War, as well as the struggles of the 1960s and onward. Our country to this day grapples with racist attitudes, police brutality, and the dehumanization of people of color.  Muhammad Ali fought to bring these issues to the forefront.  He was a boxer, yes, but he was more importantly an activist for African Americans at a time when they were beaten down at every turn.

I came face to face with a painted horse standing on a bourbon barrel, part of the 2015 Gallopalooza, an event held every five years that bridges artists and sponsors, and holds an auction that finds homes for these life size horse statues.

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Muhammad Ali Center

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Display at the Muhammad Ali Center

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downtown Louisville

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colorful horse on a bourbon barrel

I went on the Speakeasy Tour at the Evan Williams Bourbon Experience.  I had to whisper a password to get into the “illegal and secret” establishment. I am not a big fan of bourbon, but since it’s one of Louisville’s claims to fame, I figured I’d partake. I downed my first glass and then found I was supposed to “chew” it, or swish it back and forth in my mouth so I got used to it. I never got used to it and failed to see the appeal.

Later, I dropped into KMAC, or the Kentucky Museum of Art and Craft, where there was an exhibit of Clay Bodies by Sarah Crowner, as well as fabulous paintings by young students.

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Evan Williams Bourbon Experience

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Kentucky Center for the Performing Arts

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a gloomy downtown Louisville

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a beaded stretch limo

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street sculpture looking a little worse for wear

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Louisville Slugger Museum & Factory

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KMAC Exhibition

After leaving downtown, I drove around looking for certain neighborhoods that were in my guidebook, hoping to find an appealing restaurant for dinner. The neighborhoods seemed derelict, rough and uninviting. I was frustrated that there seemed to be no place where I could walk up and down a street and find a restaurant that invited me in. It was only when a restaurant randomly came up in my Instagram feed that I found Ditto’s in Bardstown.  In that cute and cavernous restaurant, I had a crab cake on a salad of lettuce, cranberries, carrots, purple cabbage and broccoli, all accompanied by a mint julep. For dessert, I treated myself to a delicious chocolate brownie torte with a layer of marshmallow and raspberry sauce.

The friendliness of Louisville came out in that Ditto’s waitress, and I felt at last, as my day came to an end, that I was at home in Louisville.

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street art in Louisville

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fading ad in Louisville

Ditto's in Louisville
Ditto’s in Louisville
mint julep at Ditto's in Bardstown
mint julep at Ditto’s in Bardstown

I live in the suburbs of Washington, D.C., in northern Virginia, but I go periodically into the city for explorations.  Washington is the nation’s capital and it has some beautiful neighborhoods.  Wide avenues weave through the city between white or colorful buildings.  Some of the best museums in the country (including the Smithsonian museums, which are free to the public), and multitudes of monuments, are on offer.  Washington also has more money, filled as it is with expensive real estate owned by a plethora of politicians, lobbyists and lawyers, than a city such as Louisville. Of course, as in many American cities, it has its share of derelict and crime-ridden neighborhoods. Somehow there is plenty in D.C. that seems inviting, whereas I didn’t find this in Louisville.

Maybe, as an outsider, I simply wasn’t looking in the right places. And possibly, my opinion of it is colored by my politics. I know Kentucky is a red state that voted for Trump in 2016. They also keep that loathsome senator Mitch McConnell seated in Congress.  Virginia, my home, is a blue state, and northern Virginia is actually quite liberal compared to the rest of the state, parts of which are very conservative. I prefer places that embrace diversity.  But Washington itself can be awfully conservative, dowdy, and prim and proper to a degree I find annoying.  Louisville didn’t seem to have pretensions, as D.C. does. Louisville does the down-to-earth thing much better than Washington.  That I appreciated.

*Friday, March 1, 2019*

*Steps: 8,254, or 3.5 miles*

**********************

“PROSE” INVITATION: I invite you to write up to a post on your own blog about a recently visited particular destination (not journeys in general). Concentrate on any intention you set for your prose.

In this case my intention was to tell about something I didn’t like about my destination:

Describe what it is you don’t like and then compare how the culture is different from what you’re used to in your part of the country. Consider how the way something in another culture is done could be better than how it’s done in your own culture.

It doesn’t matter whether you write fiction or non-fiction for this invitation.  You can either set your own writing intentions, or use one of the prompts I’ve listed on this page: writing prompts: prose. (This page is a work in process.) You can also include photos, of course.

Include the link in the comments below by Monday, August 12 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this invitation on Tuesday, August 13, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

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  • Camino de Santiago
  • Europe
  • Hikes & Walks

{camino day 26} calzadilla de la cuenza to san nicolás del real camino

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 21, 2019

I had another stunning walk today of only 15.4km.  The thing that makes me happiest when walking is a cool breeze, and I had just that from the moment I left at 6:50 a.m. until I arrived at tonight’s destination. Even after the sun rose, the pleasant breeze kept on giving.

As I shook off the dust of Calzadilla de la Cuenza from my feet in the dark, 30-year-old Anne-Charlotte from Lille, France appeared by my side and we shared our reasons for doing the Camino. I told her about my loved one and she told me of her boyfriend who has been suffering from trauma because he was accused of stealing at his last job, so he hadn’t been able to work since. She came from a family where everyone had a good job and they couldn’t understand why she was with him.  She had been walking from Le Puy-en-Velay for two months and figured it was her Camino, not her family’s. It was a time for her to figure out her situation on her own without her family’s interference.

It was dark and we both had on headlamps so I barely saw her face. It was like that on the Camino – a person appeared beside you and you shared intimate details of your life and then you parted ways. In this case, after our lovely conversation, I had to take a nature break and she went on.  These kinds of encounters happen so often on the Camino, pilgrims think of these appearances, or apparitions, as Camino angels. No advice was generally given; it was just simple sharing about life and our struggles. I was left to mull over thoughts that arose from the encounters.  I’d had too many of these moments to count.  It was one of many things that was magical about the Camino.

Calzadilla de la Cuenzato to Opción (1.0 km) to Ledigos (5.1 km)

Calzadilla de la Cueza to Ledigos
Calzadilla de la Cueza to Ledigos
Camino arrow of rocks
Camino arrow of rocks
Calzadilla de la Cueza to Ledigos
Calzadilla de la Cueza to Ledigos

The other joy was that I took an optional path off the main Camino, without a soul in front or behind me, between Ledigos and Terradillos de los Templarios. It was lovely rolling farmland dotted with rectangular and cylindrical hay bales.  A stunning sky hovered overhead. A special gift. The Camino gave and kept on giving.

Since I took the optional path, I skirted the town of Terradillos de los Templarios, supposedly the halfway point of the Camino. According to the Brierley guidebook, this town “approximates to the halfway point between St. Jean Pied de Port and Santiago de Compostela.”  I couldn’t believe I’d made it this far!

Optional path from Ledigos (2.8 km vs. 3.4 km) to Terradillos de los Templarios

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dovecote at the optional path from Ledigos to Terradillos de los Templarios

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Optional path: Ledigos to Terradillos de los Templarios

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Optional path: Ledigos to Terradillos de los Templarios

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Optional path: Ledigos to Terradillos de los Templarios

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Optional path: Ledigos to Terradillos de los Templarios

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Optional path: approaching Terradillos de los Templarios

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Optional path: approaching Terradillos de los Templarios

In the following town, Moratinos, I stopped for my second breakfast of “artisan cheese on bread drizzled with olive oil.” In the town was a big mound of dirt with doorways; these were bodegas, used for food storage and wine-making.  A fellow pilgrim, John, pointed out a TV antenna coming out of the mound, indicating someone must have been living there.

A sign at Las Bodegas de Moratinos informed us that “No, the hobbits don’t live here!”

These little caves are “bodegas,” used in the past for food storage and wine-making. Moratinos is one of several hillside bodega groups visible along the Camino de Santiago trail, part of a wine culture that dates back 2,000 years to the Romans.

The fields around you once were covered in vines, and the caves were full of wine presses, barrels, massive clay vessels, and bottling vats. Each family made wine enough each year to meet their own needs for the months ahead.

Only two or three Moratinos families still make their own wine, but the caves their ancestors dug into this hillside are used occasionally to store cheese, hams, and vegetables. Other bodegas were abandoned when their owners moved away to work in the city.

No one can say how old these bodegas are, but the stories told about them, and equipment still stored inside, say some may be at least 500 years old. Legend says they were dug in wintertime, a pastime for children who could keep warm and occupied scooping out the soft clay.  Once exposed to air, the earth hardened to a stony finish, strong enough to support the waste earth that was raised in buckets through the chimney ventilation-shaft and dumped out to form the roof of the present “Castillo.”

Nowadays bodegas are used for party rooms and storage cellars.

Terradillos de los Templarios to Moratinos (3.2 km)

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Terradillos de los Templarios to Moratinos

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Hostel Moratinos

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Las Bodegas de Moratinos

door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos
door in Las Bodegas de Moratinos

After leaving the bodegas, we came to the parish church dedicated to St. Thomas.  The surrounding trees were wearing festive colorful sleeves.  Soon, we were leaving the  town of Moratinos.

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Moratinos with parish church dedicated to St. Thomas

dog at rest in Moratinos
dog at rest in Moratinos
festive trees in Moratinos
festive trees in Moratinos

After that, it was only a short distance to San Nicolás del Real Camino.  Before town, I saw the sign: “I know that I know nothing… but the 2nd bar is “cool”!! Socrates.  This refers to a problem faced by bar owners who are not located at the entrance to Camino towns. Usually, pilgrims have been walking quite a distance, and by the time they reach a town, they stop at the first bar in town. In many towns, if they don’t stop at the first bar, there is no other bar, so they’re out of luck. I know whenever I reached a town, I was ready to stop immediately at the first bar.

Moratinos (3.2 km) to San Nicolás del Real Camino (2.8 km)

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Moratinos to San Nicolás del Real Camino

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“I know that I know nothing… but the 2nd bar is “cool”!! Socrates

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approaching San Nicolás del Real Camino

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approaching San Nicolás del Real Camino

As I walked into San Nicolás del Real Camino, I saw Simon, Karen, and Tasmanians Bud and Adele, having snacks and a beer at the first bar in town, Casa Barrunta.  I had reserved a bed at the second bar (the one referred to in the above sign), so I told them I’d go check in and then return to see if they were still there.

I checked in at Albergueria Laganares, a most charming place. When I walked in, romantic French music was softly playing. The owners were very friendly and welcoming.

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Albergueria Laganares

After a shower and laundry, I returned to have a limon y cerveza at the first bar in town with Simon, Karen, Bud and Adele. We talked of the simplicity of the Camino and how we want to downsize when we return home. Karen said she looked forward to a shopping spree for new clothes. I agreed heartily with her as I was so sick of wearing the same clothes day after day. Karen was always so stylish and cute.  Simon was super friendly and Bud and Adele were incredibly laid back.

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Restaurante Casa Barrunta

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Karen, me, Bud, Adele and Simon

The town was smaller than Calzadilla de la Cuenza but exuded so much more charm.

My friends all moved on, heading for the night to Sahagún, another 6.2 km along; it was a major stopping point along this stage of the Camino.

I returned to Albergueria Laganares.  Out back was a small green courtyard, brightened by abundant flower pots and window boxes, where pilgrims could do laundry.  Not many people seemed to be staying here, probably because of Sahagún ahead.

Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares
Albergueria Laganares

There were only 20 beds at the albergue. Spanish and French music wafted through, creating a mellow and pleasant ambiance. I felt a bit angst-ridden for the husband-and-wife owners, as theirs was the second bar in town; it was awfully quiet all afternoon. They had fixed up the place so delightfully.

Out front was a shaded seating area in a square beside the parish church, Iglesia de San Nicolás Obispo. Sitting outside in the afternoon, I had crudites and hummus, accompanied by a glass of wine. I enjoyed watching the pilgrims walking past.  There was another guy sitting out there; he didn’t say a word so I assumed he must be non-English speaking.  However, it turned out he was Phil from Britain.  He was not very talkative or friendly, and when I’d see him numerous times in the days ahead, he would continue to remain aloof.

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wine, crudites and hummus

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Iglesia de San Nicolás Obispo

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the town of San Nicolás del Real Camino

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the town of San Nicolás del Real Camino

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Iglesia de San Nicolás Obispo

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Iglesia de San Nicolás Obispo

In the late afternoon, I had a WhatsApp call with Mike.  My sons were getting ready to sign a lease and move into a new apartment.  I hoped it would work out for them to live together, although I had my doubts.

We had a lovely pilgrim meal in the albergue: lentil soup, albondigas with French fries, and pudding. I met Pierre from France, Marius and Simona from Lithuania, Irene, Chen and another person from Taiwan, Augusto from Spain, Phil from Britain, and 19-year-old Moritz from Germany who had been walking 40-45 km/day for over two months from Germany.

Simona told how she stayed in an albergue whose owner had done the Camino many times.  This woman believed the Camino was a death walk: you shed who you were to make way for becoming someone new.

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front: Pierre; L to R: Marius, Simona, Irene, Chen, unknown, Moritz, Augusto, me and Phil

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Albondigas and French fries

In the albergue, only a young Korean girl shared the 10-bed room with me. She never said a word.  She also sat alone upstairs on her phone while everyone else was at the pilgrim meal.

It was strange that I passed the halfway point in my Camino today.  I got my last sello in my credenciale.  Now I would have to use a new one for the second half of my journey.

**********

*Day 26: Saturday, September 29, 2018*

*24,542 steps, or 10.4 miles: Calzadilla de la Cueza to San Nicolás del Real Camino (15.4 km)*

You can find everything I’ve written so far on the Camino de Santiago here:

  • Camino de Santiago 2018

**************

On Sundays, I post about hikes or walks that I have taken in my travels; I may also post on other unrelated subjects. I will use these posts to participate in Jo’s Monday Walks or any other challenges that catch my fancy.

This post is in response to Jo’s Monday Walk: Porto Pim.

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  • Europe
  • Photography
  • Portugal

portuguese ceilings

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 18, 2019

I found the ceilings throughout Portugal to be quite elaborate and beautiful, so I thought I’d assemble some photos of them from my trips in 2013 and 2018.

“Ceilings must always be considered. They are the most neglected surface in a room.”  ~ Albert Hadley

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main chapel of the Cathedral of Evora 2013

Chapter House of the Capela dos Ossos, Evora 2013
Chapter House of the Capela dos Ossos, Evora 2013
Chapter House of the Capela dos Ossos, Evora 2013
Chapter House of the Capela dos Ossos, Evora 2013
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Igreja da Conceicao Velha in Lisbon 2013

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ceiling in Blazons Hall at Palácio Nacional de Sintra 2013

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ceiling in Blazons Hall at Palácio Nacional de Sintra 2013

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Blazons Hall at Palácio Nacional de Sintra 2013

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the Palatine Chapel at Palácio Nacional de Sintra 2013

Galleon Room at Palácio Nacional de Sintra
Galleon Room at Palácio Nacional de Sintra
Galleon Room at Palácio Nacional de Sintra
Galleon Room at Palácio Nacional de Sintra

The Palace of Monserrate in Sintra had some gorgeous ceilings and intricately carved arches.

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Palace of Monserrate, Sintra 2013

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Palace of Monserrate, Sintra 2013

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Palace of Monserrate, Sintra 2013

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ceiling at Palácio Nacional da Pena 2013

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ceiling at Palácio Nacional da Pena 2013

Basilica dos Martires in Lisbon 2013
Basilica dos Martires in Lisbon 2013
Basilica dos Martires in Lisbon 2018
Basilica dos Martires in Lisbon 2018

The Sé of Braga showcased some fine painted ceilings.

Sé de Braga 2018
Sé de Braga 2018
Sé de Braga 2018
Sé de Braga 2018

“Fear sees a ceiling. Hope sees the stars…” ~ Colton Dixon

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Paço dos Duques de Bragança in Guimarães 2018

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Torredos Clérigos in Porto 2018

Igreja de São Francisco 2018
Igreja de São Francisco 2018
Igreja de São Francisco 2018
Igreja de São Francisco 2018
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Sé de Porto 2018

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Sé de Porto 2018

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Livraria Lello in Porto 2018

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Igreja do Carmo in Porto 2018

church in Óbidos 2018
church in Óbidos 2018
church in Óbidos 2018
church in Óbidos 2018
Palácio Nacional da Pena 2018
Palácio Nacional da Pena 2018
Palácio Nacional da Pena 2018
Palácio Nacional da Pena 2018
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Igreja & Museu São Roque, Lisbon, 2018

“Not every wall needs a ceiling”  ~ Munia Khan

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Convento do Carmo in Lisbon 2013

*********************

“PHOTOGRAPHY” INVITATION:  I invite you to create a photography intention and then create a blog post for a place you have visited. Alternately, you can post a thematic post about a place, photos of whatever you discovered that set your heart afire. You can also do a thematic post of something you have found throughout all your travels: churches, doors, people reading, people hiking, mountains, patterns, all black & white, whatever!

In my case, my intention was to look for thematic possibilities during my trip to Portugal and I found the country’s ceilings quite elaborate and unique.

You probably have your own ideas about this, but in case you’d like some ideas, you can visit my page: photography inspiration.

I challenge you to post no more than 20-25 photos and to write less than 1,500 words about any travel-related photography intention you set for yourself. Include the link in the comments below by Wednesday, July 31 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Thursday, August 1, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, every first, second, and third (& 5th, if there is one) Thursday of each month (I’ve now added the second Thursday). Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

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  • American Road Trips
  • Carbondale
  • Churchill Downs

on journey: seeking optimism from illinois to louisville, kentucky

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 17, 2019

I tried to be optimistic as I left my sister’s house in southern Illinois to drive to Louisville, Kentucky, but the dreary, frigid and damp weather — 28°F with icy rain — didn’t help my outlook. My moods tend to vary drastically depending on the weather, and it didn’t help that at the last minute my sister backed out because of a problem with her dog Babe, who she planned to bring along. Steph isn’t much of a traveler anyway, so I guessed it was for the best.

After saying my goodbyes at 9:10, I drove through DeSoto in freezing rain, and the car was soon caked in ice.  Loreena McKennitt sang “Beneath a Phrygian Sky,” which dangled elusive dreams of The English Patient and Turkey all rolled into one.  The song put me in an optimistic state of mind until the brown eddies of the Little Muddy River quickly pulled me back into the gloomy winter landscape.

I passed silver silos and red chicken coops dotting miles of farmland. I assumed the large silver cylinders with cone tops were silos, although I didn’t know if that’s what they were properly called.  A silo is a structure used in agriculture to store grains or fermented feed known as silage. I didn’t know if the things I saw were silos or grain elevators. My farm lingo was challenged, to say the least.

In the town of Hurst, population 800, I wondered what treasures hid in Dave’s Man Cave.  In the town of Bush, population 300, a sorry-looking area surrounded T&T Recycling. Just past Royalton and Ziegler were two flags: a U.S. flag and another that said TRUMP 2020. Ugh. I passed Plumfield Christian Church and Kreative Kitchens & Baths as my wipers pounded against a frame of ice accumulating around the windshield’s edges.

I headed north on Rt. 57 and it was 29° and still raining ice as I passed Rend Lake. Before long, I was on I-64 heading east. My gas tank was getting low so I stopped at a Citgo, but all the pumps were closed. The proprietor of the Citgo informed me I’d have to drive 35 miles to the next station on I-64.  The other option was to drive six miles each way off course to Wayne City, which I did.  I figured I could make it six miles but didn’t know if my tank could carry me 35 miles.

I pushed the inside lever to open the gas tank but it was frozen over with a solid sheet of ice.  I attacked the ice encasing the gas cover with my sturdy ice scraper. Then I went to work breaking up the ice buildup on the windshield. I felt like some kind of crazed maniac as I stabbed at the ice.

Finally, I was back on the interstate, a flat stretch of highway over soggy and boggy land, flat and every shade of brown. I was lucky it wasn’t snowing and that the highway wasn’t icing over. I passed Burnt Prairie and AntQ Mall Antiques, the Little Wabash River and Mt. Carmel.  Just before noon, I got a Welcome to Indiana: Crossroads of America.

In Indiana, I crossed the Big Bayou River, then drove past New Harmony and Mt. Vernon.  Industrial sized water sprinklers hovered over the land and silos hunched, sodden, in the fields. Past Stateline Fireworks and the Black River, I stopped at a rest area to assail the ice that had built up again on the windshield. Then it was on past Poseyville, Cynthiana and Evansville.  A Monastery offered prayers and a gift shop, and I supposed I should have stopped for a dose of optimism.

I called the Frazier Museum in Louisville to see what times the Kentucky Show! was playing.  I figured I’d have to visit there tomorrow as I’d have a hard time making the last show at 3:00.  I continued past Jasper, Birdseye, and Winzerwald Winery.  I crossed into Eastern Standard Time, which put me at 2:15. I passed Marengo, Leavenworth, Indiana Caverns and Squire Boone Caverns, Palmyra and Corydon.

It was 3:07 by the time I passed the Kentucky state line: Welcome to Kentucky: United We Stand, Divided We Fall.  Despite the continual testing of my threadbare optimism, I made it to Louisville and got to the Kentucky Derby Museum by 3:20.

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Barbaro sculpture at Churchill Downs

At the Museum, I joined a tour of the outdoor racetrack at Churchill Downs. It was a miserable hour in the freezing rain, but I learned a thing or two: that the Kentucky Derby has been run every year since 1875; that it is run on the first Saturday in May; the whole event goes from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., in which time there are 14 horse races, the Derby being the 12th.  Only three-year-old Thoroughbreds can run in the race, a distance of one and a quarter miles (2.0 km). After horses win, money multiplies as they breed and sire colts, anywhere between $175,000 – $500,000 for each shot, with a colt guaranteed. If an offspring becomes a champion, the sire’s fees can be raised.

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a horse on display at the Kentucky Derby Museum

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Churchill Downs

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Churchill Downs

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Churchill Downs

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Churchill Downs

The Derby is the first leg of the American Triple Crown and is followed by the Preakness Stakes, then the Belmont Stakes.  Anywhere from 16-20 horses can participate. All horses must carry 126 lb. (fillies carry 121 lb.).  They must be weighed before and after the race.  In the past some jockeys carried lead to get up to the required weight and then tossed it during the race.

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the starting gate for the horses

Churchill Downs has 60,000 seats but no one is turned away.  Usually around 170,000 wander around the stands, mostly in the infield. In the underground tunnel, up to $23 million – all cash – is wagered.  Add concessions and lots of money is circulating.

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the underground tunnel where wagers are made

I admired a rose-draped statue of Justify, winner of the 2018 Derby. The Derby is often called “The Run for the Roses” because of the blanket of roses draped over the winner. Because it was raining on that May day in 2018, the track was sloppy and difficult.

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Justify decked out in roses

Back in the warmth of the Museum, I found an exhibit on jockey Bill Shoemaker, one of the biggest stars of Thoroughbred racing. He won his first race in 1949, his first Kentucky Derby in 1955, and rode his final race in 1990.  He retired as the most winning jockey of all time (a record since broken by two others) and became a trainer.  Despite suffering a life changing accident in 1991, in which he lost control of his car and went over an embankment, severing his spinal cord, he continued to train horses and be part of the industry he loved.  He passed away in 2003.

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jockey Bill Shoemaker

A poster featured the Louisville Jockey Club, which oversees breeding and racing of Thoroughbred race horses.  Each winner of the Derby has a plaque bearing its name at Churchill Downs.  The Racing Form is a tabloid newspaper founded in 1894 in Chicago, Illinois; it publishes the past performances of race horses as a statistical service for horse-racing bettors in North America.

Louisville Jockey Club
Louisville Jockey Club
plaques to Derby winners including Secretariat
plaques to Derby winners including Secretariat
display in the museum
display in the museum
Racing form
Racing form

Another exhibit featured outrageous hats worn on Derby Day.

Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats & outfits
Derby hats & outfits
Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats
Derby hats

My favorite thing about the museum was watching the 360° film about Derby Day, which enthralled me so much, I decided I must attend the spectacle one of these days.

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energetic film about Derby Day

The Kentucky Derby reflects the unbridled optimism of horse owners and the public, a sort of encapsulation of the American Dream. Millions are spent on breeding and training horses for what many consider “the most exciting two minutes in sports.” If that isn’t an example of both the folly and power of optimism, I don’t know what is.

*Thursday, February 28, 2019*

*Steps: 6,148, or 2.61 miles*

**********************

“ON JOURNEY” INVITATION: I invite you to write a post on your own blog about the journey itself for a recently visited specific destination. You could write about the journey you hope to take in the year ahead.  If you don’t have a blog, I invite you to write in the comments.

One of my intentions was to write about the theme of “Optimism – Power or folly.”

Include the link in the comments below by Tuesday, August 20 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Wednesday, August 21, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, once on the third Wednesday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community.  I promise, you’ll be inspired. 🙂

  • Meg, of Visiting Warsaw: 2018 & 2019, wrote about her latest zombie-like journey from her home in New South Wales to Warsaw.
    • Flight

Many thanks to all of you who wrote posts about the journey. I’m inspired by all of you! 🙂

 

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  • Camino de Santiago
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{camino day 25} carrión de los condes to calzadilla de la cueza

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 14, 2019

I started out at 7 a.m. because it was forecast to get to 87°F today.  As I left town, a crow cawed loudly from a telephone wire, jolting me into the realm of the living. Today, I began to understand deeply the challenges of the Meseta. It was flat, flat, flat. It seemed endless and the hours were long.

The temperatures were nice enough in the morning but by 11:00, the sun was in full force.  By that time, there was no shade to be found.  There were no towns between Carrión de los Condes and Calzadilla de la Cueza, only a small mobile cafe offering a welcome break.  There were also two shady picnic areas where I could sit for a spell to rest.

I passed the San Zoilo Real Monasterio, dating from the mid-11th century but now a luxury hotel, on the way out of town in the dark. Nearby was a pilgrim statue glowing as if wrapped in a halo.

Carrión de los Condes to San Zoilo (1.0 km)

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pilgrim statue near San Zoilo

Walking along the quiet country road wasn’t bad because it was still early morning and cool. Then we joined a stretch of the original Roman road still intact after 2,000 years of use.  This is known as the Cañada Real Leonesa, and, at the same time, the original Way. The Romans once walked over this same path, as this was, originally, part of the road they called Via Aquitania, which ran between Astorga and Bordeaux.

The stony covering on the road made the walk uncomfortable, with pebbles rolling out underfoot and causing ankles to twist repeatedly. The landscape was flat, monotonous and even hypnotic, with few visual references. The road passed through a kind of wetland.  Apparently the substrata of the old Roman road required an estimated 100,000 tons of rock transported from elsewhere just to raise the surface above the winter flood levels.

San Zoilo to Calzada Romana / Via Aquitana / Cañada Real Leonesa (4.7 km)

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wetland outside of Carrión de los Condes

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Carrión de los Condes to Calzada Romana

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Carrión de los Condes to Calzada Romana

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Calzada Romana

The Oasis Café was a small mobile cafe offering cafe con leche, fresh orange juice, and chorizo sandwiches. It was a very welcome break.

At the rest area, I met up with Kate from London, who I’d met the previous evening, and told her my whole story, basically: my mother, my loved one, my leaving my husband for seven years, my loved one’s flat earth beliefs, etc.  Kate had lost several people dear to her recently, and then several others had diseases they had been expected to die from, but they survived.  She was doing a walk of joy, a thanksgiving of sorts.

At the Oasis Café, I also met a Canadian guy from Ottowa who had been living in the mountains in Mexico.  He said from things he’d read, it seemed the U.S. was in the middle of a political civil war.  I agreed completely.

Calzada Romana to Area de Descanso (rest area) (4.4 km)

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Café Oasis

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Café Oasis

After the rest area, we walked a long way on a flat, hot and boring path, then crossed several small arroyos, or small streams, before descending into Calzadilla de la Cueza.

Area de Descanso to Calzadilla de la Cueza (7.2 km)

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Café Oasis to Calzadilla de la Cueza

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Café Oasis to Calzadilla de la Cueza

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approaching Calzadilla de la Cueza

I checked into the Albergue Camino Real, right at the entrance to the town of Calzadilla de la Cueza.  It was 5€ and not very nice. I certainly got what I paid for. However, the adjoining Bar el Camino wasn’t bad, with its lively owner. I joined Kate, who I’d met last evening and walked with earlier today, and Sheryl from Seattle, who I met for the first time, for lasagna and a huge beer.  Sheryl was walking the Camino for her niece who was 30, addicted to meth, and in prison. We had a long conversation about their respective IT jobs and the challenges of family.

A good deal of the conversation was spent dissecting Sheryl’s experience with Sharon, who Sheryl was walking with.  Kate had also met Sharon and thought she would be hard to take. I wouldn’t meet Sharon until later in the Camino.

Sharon had done the Camino 4-5 times before, and had arranged Sheryl’s trip for her, booking shared rooms in hotels; they often transported their bags ahead. Sheryl knew Sharon’s husband John when they both worked on ski patrol in the mountains of Washington State. Sharon had plans to meet up with her husband John sometime in the next few days, and then the three of them would travel together for the remainder of the Camino. It was odd situation and a bit stressful for Sheryl, as she was closer friends with John and didn’t know Sharon very well. Also, Sharon was apparently a driven type-A person.

I would turn out I would run into Sheryl off and on for most of the rest of my Camino.  I talked often to her, but we didn’t seem to connect at a level that would lead to any lasting friendship.

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Lunch with Sheryl and Kate at my albergue

In the evening, I wandered around the town. There wasn’t much to see and it was quite deserted.

Not all towns on the Camino are created equal. Many of the towns have declining and ageing populations and oftentimes it seems that business from the Camino is the only thing keeping them alive.  This town was such a town; with its population of 60, there wasn’t much life here. After the lively town of Carrión de los Condes, it was a bit of a drag.

Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza
Calzadilla de la Cueza

After my walkabout, I went by Kate’s hotel, but there was no sign of her, so I ate alone at Bar el Camino. I had a salad for dinner with white asparagus. The asparagus was good, but the salad also had broccoli, cauliflower, green beans and mushrooms that seemed to be either from a can or frozen and cooked. They were most certainly not fresh. I also enjoyed a glass of red wine.

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Albergue Camino Real

Albergue Camino Real was one of my most disliked albergues on the Camino, with 40 beds packed into a tight space. Space, facilities, beds – none were great, but it was a place for pilgrims to lay their heads after a long walk on the Meseta. The only saving grace was a nice green courtyard area with a swimming pool; in the early afternoon, I had dipped my feet in the pool, which was icy cold.

Albergue Camino Real
Albergue Camino Real
Albergue Camino Real
Albergue Camino Real

In the evening, I sat in the green courtyard by the pool to watch the sunset, which was lovely. It was the only redeeming feature of the albergue.

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sunset over the pool at Albergue Camino Real

I didn’t talk to a soul in the albergue as I didn’t know anyone and no one seemed particularly friendly.  I went to sleep early. The bed covers were horrible and I could feel the springs in the bed.  I couldn’t wait to get out of there in the morning.

I had reason to believe I would be in an even smaller town the following day.

**********

*Day 25: Friday, September 28, 2018*

*28,328 steps, or 12.0 miles: Carrión de los Condes to Calzadilla de la Cueza (16.8 km)*

You can find everything I’ve written so far on the Camino de Santiago here:

  • Camino de Santiago 2018

**************

On Sundays, I post about hikes or walks that I have taken in my travels; I may also post on other unrelated subjects. I will use these posts to participate in Jo’s Monday Walks or any other challenges that catch my fancy.

This post is in response to Jo’s Monday Walk: Cosmopolitan Horta.

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  • Europe
  • Evora
  • International Travel

portuguese laundry

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 11, 2019

One thing I find so charming about Portugal is the laundry hung on balconies and clotheslines.  Because Portuguese buildings are often colorful yet decrepit, the background and the laundry together make for picturesque scenes.

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Evora 2013

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Evora 2013

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Lisbon 2013

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Lisbon 2013

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Lisbon 2013

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Lisbon 2013

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Porto 2018

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Porto 2018

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Porto 2018

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Lisbon 2018

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Lisbon 2018

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Lisbon 2018

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Lisbon 2018

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Lisbon 2018

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Lisbon 2018

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Lisbon 2018

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Lisbon 2018

*********************

“PHOTOGRAPHY” INVITATION:  I invite you to create a photography intention and then create a blog post for a place you have visited. Alternately, you can post a thematic post about a place, photos of whatever you discovered that set your heart afire. You can also do a thematic post of something you have found throughout all your travels: churches, doors, people reading, people hiking, mountains, patterns, all black & white, whatever!

You probably have your own ideas about this, but in case you’d like some ideas, you can visit my page: photography inspiration.

I challenge you to post no more than 20-25 photos and to write less than 1,500 words about any travel-related photography intention you set for yourself. Include the link in the comments below by Wednesday, July 17 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Thursday, July 18, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, every first, second, and third (& 5th, if there is one) Thursday of each month (I’ve now added the second Thursday). Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community.  I promise, you’ll be inspired!

  • Jo, of RestlessJo, climbed up a hill for a view over Velas, in the Azores, and captured some mystical views.
    • A Scoot Up a Hill!

Thanks to all of you who shared posts on the “photography” invitation. 🙂

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  • American Road Trips
  • Colorado
  • Colorado Towns

colorado’s “cosmic highway:” pagosa springs to crestone

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 9, 2019

When I arrived in Pagosa Springs, Colorado at 3:30 p.m. after leaving Mesa Verde, it was pouring rain.  After checking in to my hotel, The Alpine Inn, I headed straight to the library to do some research my youngest brother had assigned me.  Pagosa Springs was my mother’s hometown, and my brother had asked me to find what I could about the Saddleback Ranch and “Fomp” Turner.  The librarian was very helpful; she found that the ranch had recently sold for $11,900,000, as well as some vague directions.

The librarian also helped me search for “Fomp” Turner on the microfiche of The Pagosa Sun. There, I found some articles about her and also, incidentally, some articles about my mother. I found that my mother had been Miss Red Rider Roundup in the annual 4th of July celebration in 1950. I found she was a bridesmaid at the wedding of her cousin, Phyllis Martinez. I also found that my grandfather, Jasper Martinez, departed for Texas to spend the winter months with his daughter (& my aunt), Judith Shaw, in 1976.  What interesting news these small town newspapers carry!

My grandfather’s brother, Emmett Martinez, had written an article about “Baldy” and “Fomp” Turner and a brief history of the Saddleback Ranch, that I found in The Pagosa Sun.  Apparently, Wellmore “Baldy” Turner, a successful attorney in Dayton, Ohio, and his wife, Florence “Fomp” Turner, bought a major portion of the Saddleback Ranch in 1925. In 1927, he added more land to the ranch. Later, they built the lodge at Saddleback using spruce and aspen logs from Turner Mountain, near the ranch. Around 1935-1940, a two-story frame building was added to the the main ranch log cabin at the south end of the big meadow. A barn was built southeast of the main ranch house, along with a corral area to support cattle operations.

The Saddleback Ranch was a summer retreat for the Turners. Mrs. Turner usually arrived in early June, and divided her time between the ranch and her dress shop in Pagosa Springs called The Fashion Bar. She also entertained a lot of friends from the east and didn’t return to Dayton until late August or early September. Mr. Turner would stay for a shorter time each year, as he had to return to his practice in Dayton.

Though my grandmother, Hazel “Babe” Martinez, was not mentioned in this article, I found from my Aunt Judy (my mom’s sister) that Babe cleaned house for the Turners at the Saddleback Ranch.  At that time, my grandmother had left her three daughters, including my mom, in an orphanage, as she was unable to care for them. Apparently, “Fomp” had five dogs and Babe used to sit with the dogs on a rock in one corner of the ranch.  When Babe died, her son (my mother’s brother), Gilbert Martinez, buried her ashes one night in the pouring rain by that rock in the corner of the Saddleback Ranch.

Somehow, “Fomp” took an interest in my mother and took her to Dayton and helped her attend college at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio for one year.

Fomp Turner died in 1973, and Baldy Turner sold the Saddleback Ranch in 1975, and died in 1980. The Saddleback was purchased in 1983 by Adolph Coors Company.  I wasn’t sure who owned it at the time of my visit.

Apparently, my brother was interested in this information as he had spent a summer in Pagosa Springs with my Aunt Judy and had visited the Saddleback Ranch in the late 1970s.

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Bojack Ranch in Pagosa Springs

After doing my research in the library, I went in search of the Saddleback Ranch. The directions I got from the librarian said it abutted the southern boundary of the Bootjack Ranch, and was 15 miles down the valley from the Wolf Creek Ski Area.  It was getting late in the day and I was driving down dirt roads in the middle of the San Juan Forest, and as darkness descended, I gave up trying to find the ranch.  I found instead the Bojack Ranch, which looked pretty impressive.  I don’t know if the “Bootjack Ranch” and the “Bojack Ranch” were one and the same.

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Bojack Ranch in Pagosa Springs

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Bojack Ranch in Pagosa Springs

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Bojack Ranch in Pagosa Springs

I stopped for dinner at Kip’s Grill & Cantina — “Pleasin’ the People for 22 years.” The place was bustling. I enjoyed a Fort Collins Wheat while waiting for a table.  License plates on the walls said: “Eat Rice: Potatoes Make Your Butt Big.”  And “Free Beer tomorrow.” And “Oklahoma RDY2FLY.” Burly men sat at the bar.  All around me were ruddy whiskered faces, baseball hats, plaid shirts, hiking shoes or heavy boots, camouflage jackets and hats.  Waitresses had green-tinted hair. A poster said “Wolf Creek: The Most Snow in Colorado.” I enjoyed three shrimp tacos on corn tortillas while testosterone buzzed around me.

Kip's Grill & Cantina
Kip’s Grill & Cantina
shrimp tacos on corn tortillas
shrimp tacos on corn tortillas
rugged Colorado men
rugged Colorado men

The next morning I got an early start for my long drive to Crestone, crossing over the snow-covered Wolf Creek Pass summit at 10,856 feet.  Tall thin trees jutted up through wispy clouds like swords piercing the sky.  Chartreuse cottonwoods huddled alongside a boiling, churning river below.  I passed Goodnight’s Lonesome Dove & Moon Valley RV. I drove past Chinook Cabins and the Rainbow Motel under heavy skies.

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Rainbow Motel on the way to Crestone

Past the mountains, the land flattened out and browned. Ranches abounded: the Pronghorn Ranch and the Double Spur Lodge and Ranch.  Pioneer United Church and Haefeli’s Honey Farms offered glory and sweetness.

When I reached Saguache County, a handwritten sign on the road said “This is the Cosmic Highway.”  Another sign notified drivers that this was a UFO-spotting site. High Valley Retail Cannabis beckoned. As I turned onto a county road, a herd of yak nodded a “Welcome to the Baca Grande.”  The GPS led me over dirt roads: Tranquil Way, Caprice Way, Harmony Way, Peaceful Way, Rarity Way, and Spanish Trail.

My youngest son was  WWOOFing on a small organic farm in Crestone, so I met him at the yurt where he was staying.  The couple in the yurt ran a small farm that had been in operation for two years. They used the three bedrooms on the bottom floor for Airbnb clients.  My son, who was working for them for no pay, just board (but no room) was staying in a hammock under a tarp outdoors on the grounds.  He had set up an elaborate system of cairns around his “living space” as a bear warning, as well as a special meditation spot near his hammock.

The farm had raised beds with fences around them to keep deer and other animals at bay. A Geodesic greenhouse nourished crops they’d transplant when it warmed up. They had chickens and ducks and collected 20-30 eggs each day from the chickens. A rabbit coop kept rabbits for slaughter.  The owners got their protein from the eggs, chicken and rabbits.

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Yurt in Crestone

My son was at that time investing in a 6-acre piece of land that looked quite barren to me. He had done research to find that Crestone has quite a large aquifer underground and in order to develop the property he would first need to drill a well 80-100 feet to draw on the aquifer.  This would be sometime in the distant future, as he had no means to develop the property at that time.

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my son’s land

We drove all over dirt roads, hilly and bumpy, roads with soulful names such as Spring Beauty Trail, Enchanted Way, and N. Wanderlust Trail.  I got a tour of a hodgepodge of architectural styles: Earthship homes, yurts, cobbled-together structures, and a residence that locals called a Dr. Seuss house.  Quirkiness ran rampant. While people had to get a permit to build, they didn’t have to follow many regulations on how things got constructed. Solar and other forms of alternative energy were popular.

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Earthship house under construction

The Baca Grande subdivision was also known as a center for alternative building, permaculture and sustainable living. Environmental organizations, eco-villages and community gardens were located here.

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close up of Earthship house under construction

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Dr. Seuss house

Crestone itself had just 127 people in the 2010 Census.  The entire Saguache county had a population of 6,108.  At 7,500 feet in elevation and ringed on three sides by mountains, Crestone is beautiful and isolated, subject to extremes of weather, wind, and temperature. It is known as a spiritual community and a haven for those seeking a contemplative or alternative lifestyle. It has an array of spiritual sites: ashrams, monasteries, temples, retreat centers, stupas, labyrinths, and other sacred landmarks, including a ziggurat, a structure modeled on the temples of ancient Babylon. Centers here represent faiths that include Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Native American spiritual traditions, and New Age beliefs.  Eastern spiritual traditions, especially Hinduism and Buddhism, are pervasive. However, all paths are honored.

The community of Crestone is unique because of its spirituality, its social and political activism, and its commitment to environmentalism.

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“downtown” Crestone

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“downtown” Crestone

We enjoyed lunch at a cafe in town: a chili vegetable stew chock-full of onions for me and a chicken sandwich for my son.

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Cafe in Crestone

After going to visit Great Sand Dunes National Park & Preserve, my son wanted us to stop at a hot springs but it was getting late.  We drove back to Crestone, where we enjoyed a lovely dinner at the only restaurant in town, Desert Sage.  I had a huge meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy and a glass of wine (not a smart move with a long drive ahead of me).  I left half my meatloaf with my son, dropped him at the farm, and took off as the sun was setting for a five hour drive to Pueblo, where I’d reserved a non-refundable room early in my trip, before I’d known my son would be in Crestone.  I wished I’d opted to stay the night in the yurt, because it was a very unpleasant drive in the dark over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in total darkness.

For our visit to the Great Sand Dunes, see my previous post: great sand dunes national park.

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sunset in the Sangre de Cristos

*Pagosa Springs: Monday, May 21, 2018*

*Crestone: Tuesday, May 22, 2018*

**********************

“PROSE” INVITATION: I invite you to write up to a post on your own blog about a recently visited particular destination (not journeys in general). Concentrate on any intention you set for your prose.

It doesn’t matter whether you write fiction or non-fiction for this invitation.  You can either set your own writing intentions, or use one of the prompts I’ve listed on this page: writing prompts: prose. (This page is a work in process.) You can also include photos, of course.

Include the link in the comments below by Monday, July 22 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this invitation on Tuesday, July 23, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community.  I promise, you’ll be inspired. 🙂

  • Arundhati, of The Travelling Diary of a Dippy-Dotty Girl, wrote a charming prose piece about her visit to Montauk.
    • Montauk

Thanks to all of you who wrote prosaic posts following intentions you set for yourself. 🙂

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  • Camino de Santiago
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{camino day 24} villarmentero de campos to carrión de los condes

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 7, 2019

Because I knew today’s walk would be short, I enjoyed sleeping in a bit between nice sheets, a rarity on the Camino.  Upon waking, I found that my hotel room had no electricity. When I tried to tell the woman at the front desk, she couldn’t understand at first and then couldn’t figure out why the power was out; it seemed the outage was confined to my room. It was a good thing I had my headlamp.

Today was only 10.1km of walking, but it felt like an eternity. I didn’t talk to a soul for the entire walk. The path ran straight along a road through a flat, featureless landscape. I kept it short, because the next town after Carrión de los Condes was 16.8 km, and I wasn’t up for walking 26.9km.

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Villarmentero de Campos to Villalcázar de Sirga

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Villarmentero de Campos to Villalcázar de Sirga

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Villarmentero de Campos to Villalcázar de Sirga

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Villarmentero de Campos to Villalcázar de Sirga

I left at 8:15, so the sun had already risen and was quickly bearing down. The 4.1km climb into Villalcázar de Sirga wasn’t steep but it was long.  There, I stopped for a potato tortilla, peach juice, and cafe con leche.  Known as the town of the canal towpath, it is also known for its hospitality; it has welcomed pilgrims here since the 12th-century, when it became an administrative district of the Knights Templar.

I visited the impressive 13th-century Templar church, Santa María la Virgen Blanca. It houses the tombs of nobles and royalty and is now declared a national monument.  The porch has a wonderful sculpted south door.

Many of the chapels and altars in Spanish churches are cloaked in darkness.  In the Templar church, I saw a woman putting a coin into a box, which resulted in an altarpiece lighting up.  I wondered how many churches I could have put a coin in a box for light!  There were panels depicting the life of St. James — his meeting with Jesus to martyrdom and transference to Galicia.  Another side chapel had a statue of Santa María La Blanca, who supposedly performed many miracles. There were also tombs of Infante Don Felipe and Felipe’s wife Doña Leonor.

I stopped and said prayers and enjoyed the interior of this sacred space.

Villarmentero de Campos to Villalcázar de Sirga (4.3km)

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Villalcázar de Sirga

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Villalcázar de Sirga

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Santa María la Virgen Blanca

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Santa María la Virgen Blanca

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Santa María la Virgen Blanca

interior of Santa María la Virgen Blanca
interior of Santa María la Virgen Blanca
interior of Santa María la Virgen Blanca
interior of Santa María la Virgen Blanca
interior of Santa María la Virgen Blanca
interior of Santa María la Virgen Blanca

When I stopped in churches today, I prayed for my mom, who died in 2002, and asked her forgiveness for my lifetime of hard-heartedness to her.  I hoped she would forgive me and that I could forgive her for not being the mother to me I thought she should have been.  I knew I needed healing in my relationships to both my parents.

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statue in Villalcázar de Sirga

The stretch between Villalcázar de Sirga and Carrión de los Condes (6km) seemed an eternity because of the heat and the gnats and flies swarming around my face the whole way.  I used my hiking poles like a baton, twirling them around and around to keep the flying insects at bay.  They were so annoying.  I guess I got spoiled by the two cooler days we had and was not prepared mentally to return to the annoyances of summer.  Anyone who knows me knows I am not a fan of summer and its heat, bugs, or humidity.  I hate sweating! I was so ready for fall.

Villalcázar de Sirga to Carrión de los Condes Entrada (5.2km)

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Villalcázar de Sirga to Carrión de los Condes Entrada

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LIFE IS A CAMINO

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Villalcázar de Sirga to Carrión de los Condes Entrada

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Flowers along the way

I entered the town of Carrión de los Condes at close to 11:30 a.m. The town occupied a a strategic position in this volatile border area.  Though only 2,200 (+ declining) people live here now, it once had a population of 10,000.  It has meandering side streets that give it a medieval feel and at one time was home to no less than 14 pilgrim hospitals.

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mural at Entrada – Carrión de los Condes

The first monument I came to in the town was the Monasterio de Santa Clara. It is one of the oldest Order of St. Clare convents in Spain, dating from the mid-13th-century.

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Monasterio de Santa Clara in Carrión de los Condes

Carrión de los Condes Entrada to Carrión de los Condes (0.5km)

I walked past the 12th-century Romanesque Iglesia de Santiago, which was destroyed during the War of Independence in 1809.  Luckily, the magnificent facade and frieze were left intact as a national monument and the church itself had been converted to a museum.

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Iglesia de Santiago

I may have hit a wall today.  I was almost halfway done, but the 10k seemed too much; I felt tired of the whole thing.  I hoped I’d have a better outlook tomorrow.

I checked into a private room at Hostal Santiago. I was increasingly enjoying having private rooms on the Camino.

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Carrión de los Condes

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Carrión de los Condes

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Carrión de los Condes

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Carrión de los Condes

There was a pilgrim store in town and I wanted to get a better backpack in which I could carry my water bladder through the long Meseta ahead.  I found one I liked in one shop but went off to think about it.  When I returned to buy it, it was gone.  So I went to another shop and bought a red and black one, still bigger than I wanted.  And I hated the red color!  I also bought a shirt and two new buffs.

After I went out in the early evening, I joined Simon and Karen at an outdoor cafe where I met some new people.  I met Kate from London but originally from South Africa.  She had lived in Dubai for a time and had visited Oman, so we shared our experiences there. I also met Adele and Bud from Tasmania. It was a lively group who lifted my spirits considerably.  They would tease me about my new red backpack over that evening and in the coming days.

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Simon, Karen, Adele, Bud, me and Kate

At 7:15, church bells started pealing through the town, calling pilgrims to the 7:30 mass at the 11th-century Romanesque Iglesia de Santa María del Camino (St. Mary of the Way).  Its south façade depicts the terrifying annual ‘tribute of the hundred maidens’ which Christians were obliged to make to the Moors during the time of Muslim rule.  Because of that forced tribute, the Christians fought the battle of Clavijo in 844, where, thanks to the miraculous intervention of Saint James on a white horse, they defeated the Moors.

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Iglesia de Santa María del Camino

The mass was all in Spanish, but I recognized the ritual: communion, singing of Hosanna, the “peace be with you” greeting, a nun playing guitar, and the readings and prayers.  I sat beside Leanna (Lee), who I’d met earlier that day in the bar.  After the service the two priests called the pilgrims up and read blessings in Spanish and English.  They they placed their hands on each of our heads and said blessings on our Camino journey and on each and every day of our lives and did the sign of the cross on our foreheads. I was in tears.

When I skipped communion, I said to Lee that I didn’t participate because I hadn’t been to confession in many years.  She insisted none of that mattered anymore, that anyone could take communion.  If that were true, I was disappointed I didn’t take it.  Before the service, I saw a Scottish guy I’d met at San Anton confessing to the priest; there was no screen or curtain and the confession was open to the rest of the church.  I obviously hadn’t attended a Catholic mass in a long time if things had changed that much.

After the mass, when we went into the Sacristy to get our sellos, the really tall priest who had performed the mass took off his robes to reveal a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt underneath.  I thought this odd, although I don’t know why I should have!

Iglesia de Santa María del Camino
Iglesia de Santa María del Camino
Iglesia de Santa María del Camino
Iglesia de Santa María del Camino
Iglesia de Santa María del Camino
Iglesia de Santa María del Camino

I went in search of the 11th-16th century San Zoilo Real Monasterio, connected with the order of Cluny.  It was now a national monument and had been restored to a private hotel similar to a Parador.  I couldn’t find it, but it was supposedly on the outside of town; hopefully it wouldn’t be too dark to see it in the morning when I left the town.

**********

*Day 24: Thursday, September 27, 2018*

*22,773 steps, or 9.65 miles: Villarmentero de Campos to Carrión de los Condes (10.1 km)*

You can find everything I’ve written so far on the Camino de Santiago here:

  • Camino de Santiago 2018

**************

On Sundays, I post about hikes or walks that I have taken in my travels; I may also post on other unrelated subjects. I will use these posts to participate in Jo’s Monday Walks or any other challenges that catch my fancy.

This post is in response to Jo’s Monday Walk: Simply São Jorge.

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  • American Road Trips
  • Illinois
  • Midwestern Triangle

poetic journeys: lives moving as fast as possible

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 5, 2019

Lives moving as fast as possible

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“POETRY” Invitation:  I invite you to write a poem of any poetic form on your own blog about a particular travel destination.  Or you can write about travel in general. Concentrate on any intention you set for your poetry.

One of my intentions for my trip to Illinois was to write a Found Poem, but it ended up being more of a Headline Poem, which was one of my intentions for Kentucky. I started by getting two local newspapers from Illinois and one from St. Louis, Missouri, two hours from my sister’s house in Murphysboro, IL.  I cut out 50-100 words and phrases from those three newspapers. Though my intention was to copy the language in the order in which I found it, I just played around with all the cut-out words and phrases and then arranged them on purple paper, then glued them down.

St. Louise Post-Dispatch
St. Louise Post-Dispatch
The Southern
The Southern
my sister's office
my sister’s office

You can either set your own poetic intentions, or use one of the prompts I’ve listed on this page: writing prompts: poetry.  (This page is a work in process).  You can also include photos, of course.

Include the link in the comments below by Thursday, August 1 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Friday, August 2, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, on the first Friday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

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  • American Road Trips
  • Carbondale
  • Illinois

southern illinois on the song of birds

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 July 4, 2019

I wake up in my sister’s mid-century modern house in Murphysboro, Illinois, surrounded by her quirky and charming things. We are Birdsongs, my sister and I.  Birds have always figured in our lives.  I suppose if you look for birds, you can find them anywhere and everywhere.  On Steph’s bookshelves, there is A Concise Guide in Colour: Cage & Aviary Birds with a Blossom-Headed Parakeet, a Green Glossy Starling, a Peach-faced Lovebird, a Black-Naped Oriole, and Scarlet Tanager. I love the names.  There is also The Handbook of Foreign Birds in Colour, with glossy photos of Rainbow bunting and other birds.  Before my sister moved to Illinois, she had an aviary in her Los Angeles backyard full of finches and other feathered friends.

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my sister’s mid-century modern house in Murphysboro

“My writing often contains souvenirs of the day – a song I heard, a bird I saw – which I then put into the novel.”  ~ Amy Tan

A Concise Guide in Colour: Cage and Aviary Birds
A Concise Guide in Colour: Cage and Aviary Birds
Blossom-headed Parakeet
Blossom-headed Parakeet
Green Glossy Starling
Green Glossy Starling
Peach-faced Lovebird
Peach-faced Lovebird

“Sadly, bird illustration has always been an under-appreciated art.” ~ John Burnside

I lounge in bed, finishing The Year of Pleasures.  Windows surround me, but it’s winter and I don’t hear any birdsong. No birds are chirping or tweeting or twittering or hooting. I scan the room and see a picture of a girl dreaming of salamanders, a poster for LeJour, a picture of musicians and instruments. Old editions of classics line the bookshelves: The Brothers Karamozov, Theories of Everything, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Fountainhead, Go Tell It on the Mountain, Tobacco Road, Our Man in Havana, Oliver Twist and Great Expectations.  A little lamp with a fawn on a green lampshade with pompoms in the folds reminds me somehow of our childhood.

After leisurely breakfast, we Birdsong sisters venture out in the world of southern Illinois. At Kroger we get sushi to go: a shrimp tempura roll for me and a “Yummy roll” for Steph.  We stop in the parking lot of a Target at noon to eat our sushi with chopsticks because it will take us a while to get to our destination, but the rolls are so big we can’t finish and pack them up to finish later.

We drive on flat highways cut through rolling farmland dotted with barns and silos.  Trees rise up as we roll into the Shawnee National Forest, created in 1939.  We wind up mountain roads with Steph nervously admonishing me to slow down around the corners. She doesn’t want us to drive off a cliff, although the hills merely slope gently away and are covered with trees.  We arrive at Garden of the Gods Wilderness.

We walk the stone-paved Observation Trail among strange mushroom-shaped rocks with names like Camel Rock, Anvil Rock, Devil’s Smoke Stack and Table Rock.  No bird names here, and no birds flitting about, even though it’s a rare spring-like day at the end of February.

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Devil’s Smokestack

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

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Garden of the Gods Wilderness

Three hundred million years ago, during the Carboniferous Period, famous for its vast swamp forests, local geological conditions laid down a thick bed of gray sandstone in southern Illinois.  The bed of sandstone was later uplifted, and Garden of the Gods is part of that uplifted sandstone plateau.  Unlike much of Illinois, this plateau was never covered by glaciers. It is steeper and rockier than much of the state.  Dramatic erosion patterns have created hoodoos and other unusual sandstone formations.

The dark, reddish brown swirls and rings on the rocks are called liesegang bands. The rock was saturated with groundwater mixed with iron when it was underground eons ago. Chemical changes caused the iron to solidify as rust between the rock particles. Held together by iron, the raised dark bands have resisted weathering as compared to the softer light-colored rock. The patterns on the bands are a result of these chemical changes.

I love the swirls and painterly patterns and the rust and green colors of the rock, and the lichens in pale greens, golds and grays. They remind me of birds in flight, the notes of birdsong swirling around.

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swirls on the rocks

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swirls on the rocks

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swirls on the rocks

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swirls on the rocks

In the end, we sit on a stone wall and eat the rest of our sushi.  The only serenade is the sound of our Birdsong voices.

After running a few errands in Carbondale, we stop at the Global Gourmet, a cute restaurant decorated with Mardi Gras masks and beads, globes, a huge map of the world, and a list of all the countries “Andrea” has visited on a chalkboard: “Andrea’s Travels… So Far: Morocco, Gibraltar, Spain, France, Monaco…” When I tell Andrea I’m going to Morocco and Italy in April, she asks for my email address so she can send me some suggestions.

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Global Gourmet in Carbondale, Illinois

A cute black & white photo in the bathroom of two little girls standing above a city grate with their dresses ballooning around them reminds me of my sisters and me when we were little girls decked out in crinoline dresses.  With those dresses like wings, we might have flown on currents of wind.

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photograph in the bathroom at Global Gourmet

We enjoy $5 margaritas and tilapia tacos on blue corn tortillas, brie with cranberries and green onions on crackers, and mushroom soup.  We share a chocolate truffle cake for dessert.

crackers with brie and cranberry
crackers with brie and cranberry
me at Global Gourmet
me at Global Gourmet

Back at Steph’s house, in her art studio, she shows me her cigarette cards, trade cards issued by tobacco manufacturers to stiffen cigarette packaging and to advertise cigarette brands.

“Between 1875 and the 1940s, cigarette companies often included collectible cards with their packages of cigarettes. [They] document popular culture from the turn of the century, often depicting the period’s actresses, costumes, and sports, as well as offering insights into mainstream humor and cultural norms,” according to Wikipedia: Cigarette card.

I’ve never heard of these and I’m enchanted.  I can always count on my artistic sister to introduce me to something new and unusual. I love the photos of the birds: the goldfinch, the swallow, the barn owl. The Wills’s Cigarette cards have beautifully painted miniature landscapes and trees with their blossoms and fruits.  I also admire my sister’s drawings framed on the wall; so often her quirky characters are animals.

bird cigarette cards
bird cigarette cards
Wills's cigarette cards
Wills’s cigarette cards
Steph's drawings on the wall
Steph’s drawings on the wall

In the evening, we watch two episodes of Happy Valley.  Steph stays up and watches the whole season, but I go to bed because my eyes are itching like crazy – an allergic reaction to her cats.  I take Benadryl too late to enable me to read my book.

The next day, we have a lazy day watching the Michael Cohen hearings; he describes Trump as Con Man. Cheat. Liar.  No surprise there. Our disgraceful president is currently in Vietnam cozying up to Kim Jong Un.

We take a break to run errands and have breakfast for lunch at Longbranch Café & Bakery in Carbondale: scrambled eggs with cheese, a biscuit with soysage gravy, and sautéed vegetables, along with a huge cup of chai.  In the afternoon, I have to work on a Found Poem for my online class while Steph takes her dog Babe to the vet.

Longbranch Café & Bakery
Longbranch Café & Bakery
scrambled eggs with cheese, biscuit with soysaage gravy and sautéed vegetables
scrambled eggs with cheese, biscuit with soysaage gravy and sautéed vegetables
mural behind Longbranch
mural behind Longbranch

“I don’t ask for the meaning of the song of a bird or the rising of the sun on a misty morning. There they are, and they are beautiful.” ~ Pete Hamill

Thursday morning, I’ll leave my sister’s house, on the wing to Louisville, Kentucky.

*Tuesday-Wednesday, February 26-27, 2019*

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“PHOTOGRAPHY” INVITATION:  I invite you to create a photography intention and then create a blog post for a place you have visited. Alternately, you can post a thematic post about a place, photos of whatever you discovered that set your heart afire. You can also do a thematic post of something you have found throughout all your travels: churches, doors, people reading, people hiking, mountains, patterns, all black & white, whatever!

In my case, my intention was to create a theme for each day; in this case my theme was “birds.”

You probably have your own ideas about this, but in case you’d like some ideas, you can visit my page: photography inspiration.

I challenge you to post no more than 20-25 photos and to write less than 1,500 words about any travel-related photography intention you set for yourself. Include the link in the comments below by Wednesday, July 10 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Thursday, July 11, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, every first, second, and third (& 5th, if there is one) Thursday of each month (I’ve now added the second Thursday). Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂

I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!

the ~ wander.essence ~ community

I invite you all to settle in and read a few posts from our wandering community.  I promise, you’ll be inspired!

  • Indra, of TravTrails, takes us along the Scarborough Bluffs on the eastern shores of Toronto’s Lake Ontario.
    • Toronto Summer…..Bluffing Away (3)

Thanks to all of you who shared posts on the “photography” invitation. 🙂

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