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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
      • 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

  • twenty twenty-five: nicaragua {twice}, mexico & seven months in costa rica {with an excursion to panama} December 31, 2025
  • the december cocktail hour: mike’s surgery, a central highlands road trip & christmas in costa rica December 31, 2025
  • top ten books of 2025 December 28, 2025
  • the november cocktail hour: a trip to panama, a costa rican thanksgiving & a move to lake arenal condos December 1, 2025
  • panama: the caribbean archipelago of bocas del toro November 24, 2025
  • a trip to panama city: el cangrejo, casco viejo & the panama canal November 22, 2025
  • the october cocktail hour: a trip to virginia, a NO KINGS protest, two birthday celebrations, & a cattle auction October 31, 2025
  • the september cocktail hour: a nicoya peninsula getaway, a horseback ride to la piedra del indio waterfalls & a fall bingo card September 30, 2025
  • the august cocktail hour: local gatherings, la fortuna adventures, & a “desfile de caballistas”  September 1, 2025
  • the july cocktail hour: a trip to ometepe, nicaragua; a beach getaway to tamarindo; & homebody activities August 3, 2025
  • the june cocktail hour: our first month in costa rica June 30, 2025
  • a pura vida year in costa rica June 12, 2025
  • the may cocktail hour: final wrap up, a wedding & leaving for costa rica June 2, 2025

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on returning home from niagara falls

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 December 3, 2018

On Friday, June 29, I left Niagara Falls, Ontario and headed for the U.S. border, getting stuck in a very slow-moving line at Border Control.

I pulled up to the booth of a Border Patrol Agent, a real macho guy with a snide attitude.  He began by grilling me suspiciously.

“What were you doing in Canada?” he said.

“Visiting Niagara Falls.”

“Why did you have to go to Canada when you can see the Falls from New York?”

“The views are much better from the Canadian side.”

“So you’re driving up here alone?”

“Yep.”

“So you just decided to drive all the way up here from Virginia and go to Niagara Falls and cross the border into Canada by yourself?”  Like there is something wrong with that.

I said, “Yeah.  I travel alone a lot. I’ve traveled all over the world on my own.”

“Do you work?”

“No.”

“So what does your husband do?”

“He works for a government contractor in northern Virginia.”

He continues with his snide look.  “Oh, so he just pays for you to come on up here?”

“Yes.”

“Where are your bags?”

“Bags?  Oh, you mean my suitcase? In the trunk.”

He then instructed me to turn off my car, pop the trunk, roll down my back seat window, and give him my keys.

“Is there anything in your trunk I’m not going to be happy to find?”

I said, “Uh, I don’t think so.”

Then he proceeded to search through my trunk and rifle through my suitcase.

Finally, he slammed my trunk and waved me through, looking pissed off that he was unable to find that I was doing something wrong.  I really wanted to wipe that snide look right off of his face.

So what was going on?  I am a white woman of an advanced age traveling alone.  Was there some problem with that?  Apparently our current administration, supported by the Christian Evangelicals who think a woman’s place is in the home, feel threatened by an independent woman traveling alone. They had better get used to it, because I don’t plan to stop!

If I got that much of a grilling, I can only imagine what people with brown skin have to deal with every day when crossing borders or dealing with our government.

I am so sick of our current administration’s border policies.  Our country has been separating children from their parents and imprisoning them.  Recently, women and children seeking asylum were tear gassed. It’s an outrage.  Our government has no compassion for human beings who are suffering in this world.

I’m sure we don’t know the half of what is really going on at our borders.

********

Once I arrived home, I began to work on my intentions:

  1. I wrote posts about “things I learned” each day.
    1. things i learned in buffalo, new york
    2. things i learned in niagara falls, new york
    3. things i learned in niagara falls, ontario
  2. I wrote about movement and sound.
    1. movement & sound in niagara falls
  3. I did a freewrite about newspaper headlines while I was traveling.
    1. ~ current ~ events in niagara falls
  4. I took video clips of the Falls and butterflies at the Butterfly Conservatory.
    1. movement & sound in niagara falls
  5. I wrote an Apostrophe poem, in which the poet addresses an abstract person, idea or thing: poetic journeys: o, teddy!
  6. I also intended to find thematic possibilities; I only did one post on this:
    1. *colorful* in niagara falls, ontario
  7. I collected tickets and stickers to include in my journal.
    Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural Site ticket
    Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural Site ticket
    Niagara Falls State Park sticker, Moonlite Motel card, and Cave of the Winds ticket
    Niagara Falls State Park sticker, Moonlite Motel card, and Cave of the Winds ticket
    White Water Walk & Butterfly Conservatory tickets
    White Water Walk & Butterfly Conservatory tickets
    Maid of the Mist postcard
    Maid of the Mist postcard
  8. I sent a postcard home from New York (see below).
  9. I searched for a perfect memento.  I bought a pair of earrings decorated with Rosebay Rhododendrons in the Frank Lloyd Wright Darwin Martin House Complex. I love the white flower clusters surrounded by dark green leaves, and, having lived in three Asian countries and visited many more, I love the Asian look of them. I also found a book in Talking Leaves Bookstore in Buffalo, Postcards from the End of America by Linh Dinh.  The title alone hints to the demise of America, and its utter lack of moral leadership (not that we’ve always been moral, not by a longshot).
  10. I set an intention to take photos with my wide-angle lens, which I failed to do.  I also was supposed to take black and white photos.  Though I didn’t take any photos in black and white, I did edit a couple to be B&W.
fullsizeoutput_17593

Greetings from New York

  1. fullsizeoutput_1759f

    Hastily written postcard 🙂

    IMG_2372

    Rosebay Rhododendron earrings and Postcards from the End of America from Talking Leaves Bookstore in Buffalo

    fullsizeoutput_175a5

    Horseshoe Falls from the Canadian side

    Overall, I was glad I finally made the trip up north to visit Niagara Falls. The Canadian side has the best views but also a huge commercial footprint and a lot of tacky shops.  The American side has a more natural environment, and allows visitors to get up close and personal with the Falls as they tumble over the precipice. In the end, I left the U.S.-Canadian border with a bad taste in my mouth, and felt outraged and gloomy over what is becoming of our country.  Though I was awed by the amazing Falls and the White Water Walk, and I enjoyed seeing my friend Mona Lisa, I don’t think I would ever return again.

    Here’s my trip shown on the Polarsteps app.  Of course, this app doesn’t show the actual roads taken.

    fullsizeoutput_176cb

    my Polarsteps app

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

    “ON RETURNING HOME” INVITATION: I invite you to write a post on your own blog about returning home from one particular destination or, alternately, from a long journey encompassing many stops.  How do you linger over your wanderings and create something from them?  How have you changed? Did the place live up to its hype, or was it disappointing? Feel free to address any aspect of your journey and how it influences you upon your return. If you don’t have a blog, I invite you to write in the comments.

    For some ideas on this, you can check out the original post about this subject: on returning home.

    Include the link in the comments below by Sunday, January 6 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Monday, January 7, I’ll include your links in that post.

    This will be an ongoing invitation on the first Monday 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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canyon de chelly: antelope house, mummy cave & massacre cave overlooks

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 December 2, 2018

I drove on a Wednesday morning to Canyon de Chelly National Monument from Gallup, NM.  It turned out that Gallup was not the best place to stay to explore this park; it was too far away and over some bumpy Navajo Nation reservation roads. I didn’t plan this part of my trip well; the day before I’d visited Hubbell Trading Post and Window Rock, and I ended up backtracking past these places on my way to Canyon de Chelly.

Canyon de Chelly National Monument was established in 1931 to preserve nearly 5,000 years of human history.  People have lived in this canyon, uninterrupted, longer than anyone has lived elsewhere on the Colorado Plateau.  The monument is administered by the National Park Service but encompasses nearly 84,000 acres within the Navajo Reservation. These canyons today are home to the Diné, the Navajo people, with roughly 40 families residing within the park boundaries

It was a depressing drive through “The Rez,” a term Walt Longmire often used in the TV series Longmire, but his “Rez” was in Absaroka County, Wyoming.  Ramshackle mobile homes and corrugated aluminum houses sat in desolate dirt yards along an endless stretch of road. Signs reminded drivers of Navajo poverty and unemployment: “Navajo families need jobs not talk!  Vote jobs!” Periwinkle wildflowers fluttered along the roadside.  Red buttes punctuated blue skies; a landscape of tan, beige and red sand and lavender-tipped grasses flew past my window.

After stopping in the Visitor Center, I drove along the North Rim Road (34 miles round trip), stopping first at Antelope House Overlook.  While walking around at the top of the canyon, two old Navajo guys told me they grew up down below.  One of them said there used to be bushes growing out of the canyon walls.  He said the National Park Service planted all the cottonwoods.

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Antelope House Overlook

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Antelope House Overlook

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Antelope House Overlook

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Antelope House Overlook

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prickly plant at the canyon rim

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hardy pine

Antelope House Ruin is named for the illustrations of antelope attributed to Navajo Artist Dibe Yazhi (Little Sheep) who lived here in the early 1800s.  Excavated in the 1970s, this site has an unusual circular plaza built in the 1300s.

Despite the two Navajo men’s attempts to point out the antelope illustrations, I could never spot them.  I kept squinting and looking to no avail.

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Antelope House Ruin

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Antelope House Ruin

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Antelope House Ruin

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Antelope House Ruin

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Antelope House Ruin

Navajo Fortress is a historic landmark used as a refuge by early Navajos.

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Navajo Fortress at Antelope House Overlook

I drove to the Mummy Cave Overlook, from which I could see Canyon del Muerto and the Mummy Cave Ruin.

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Canyon del Muerto

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Canyon del Muerto

Mummy Cave Ruin is one of the largest ancestral Puebloan villages in the canyon. It was occupied until about 1300.  The east and west alcoves comprise living and ceremonial rooms.  In the 1280s, people who migrated from Mesa Verde built the tower complex that rests on the central ledge.

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Mummy Cave Ruin

Close by, from the Massacre Cave Overlook, I could see Massacre Cave, as well as the Yucca Cave Ruin. Massacre Cave refers to the Navajo killed here in the winter of 1805 by a Spanish military expedition led by Antonio Narbona.  About 115 Navajo took shelter on the ledge above the canyon floor.  Narbona’s men discovered them, then fired from the rim, killing all the people on the ledge.

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Massacre Cave Overlook

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Massacre Cave Overlook

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Massacre Cave Ruin & Yucca Cave Ruin

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Massacre Cave Ruin

painterly rocks and trail marker
painterly rocks and trail marker
Canyon de Chelly cancellation stamp & sticker
Canyon de Chelly cancellation stamp & sticker

From Massacre Cave, I drove back to the Visitor Center and embarked on the South Rim Drive (37 miles roundtrip).

*Wednesday, May 16, 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: Lagar da Mesquita.

 

 

 

 

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  • American Road Trips
  • Arizona
  • Four Corners Road Trip

the wigwam motel in holbrook, arizona

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 November 29, 2018

The Wigwam Motel in Holbrook, Arizona, adjacent to the old Route 66, was built in 1950 by Chester Lewis, an Arizona motel owner, after he visited Frank A. Redford’s Wigwam Village in Cave City, Kentucky. It is one of seven wigwam villages built from the 1930s to the 1950s from Florida to California. Its concrete wigwams are actual hotel rooms, and the parking lot is seeded with vintage cars.

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Red Ford

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Red Ford

The Wigwam Motel was closed in 1982 and Chester Lewis died in 1986.  Two years later, his widow and children restored and reopened 15 rooms.  Since May 2, 2002, it has been on the National Register of Historic Places.

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

I love nostalgic American places such as this because they remind me of my childhood growing up in the 1950s-1970s. It seems nostalgia buffs come here to Holbrook to visit this place from all over the country.

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Studebaker at the Wigwam Motel

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Chevrolet at the Wigwam Motel

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Studebaker, petrified log and wigwam

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Volkswagen at the Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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camper van at the Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

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Wigwam Motel

During my trip here in May, I didn’t stay in this hotel, as I didn’t even know about it until the ranger at Petrified Forest National Park told me about it. I had so much fun walking around the parking lot taking photos of the wigwams and the vintage cars.  Two women were sitting on chairs outside one of the rooms and when I exclaimed how cute it was, they let me take a look inside their room.  It was very small, but staying here must certainly be an experience to remember.

I stayed down the road at Brad’s Desert Inn, which was cute in its own right.

 

Brad's Desert Inn
Brad’s Desert Inn
Brad's Desert Inn
Brad’s Desert Inn
Brad's Desert Inn
Brad’s Desert Inn

* Monday, May 14, 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 photos (fewer is better) and to write less than 350-400 words about any travel-related photography intention you set for yourself. Include the link in the comments below by Wednesday, December 5 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Thursday, December 6, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, every first and third (& 5th, if there is one) Thursday 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!

  • Jude, of Travel Words, shows us some street art from Little Italy in San Diego.
    • Little Italy: Part Two

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

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  • American Road Trips
  • Buffalo
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~ current ~ events in niagara falls

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 November 27, 2018

Late June, 2018.

Dangers lurk in the swift-moving Niagara, in the law (or lawlessness) of the land, in the power of corporations and government to squash the little man, in the politics of hatred, grievances and blame sweeping the globe.

Still waters don’t run very deep.  Just under the surface are currents of evil, currents of greed, currents of power.  If we aren’t vigilant, they will rise to the surface, suck us under.  They will drown us all.

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The Whirlpool at Niagara Falls

On June 25, police in Niagara Falls warned of dangerous waters after two brothers, one of whom made furniture out of driftwood, drowned in the Niagara River while trying to salvage a piece of driftwood.

“Although something is sitting on top the water and it looks nice and calm, it is not calm water,” said Police Capt. Jeff Rinaldo, in an interview with the The Buffalo News.

No, nothing is calm, not even on the surface, and certainly not under the surface.

On June 26, a 78-year-old Canadian woman’s purse was stolen while she pumped gas at the Seneca One Stop in Niagara Falls.  She had left her purse on the driver’s seat and lost her car keys, credit cards, personal effects, $500 in U.S. currency and $200 in Canadian. A tall black man was seen on the surveillance video in the store before the theft.  In these sad days, everyday routines are interrupted by thefts and mass shootings.  Incidents such as these are becoming so routine that we almost shrug them off as just another tragedy in a line of many.

Justice Anthony Kennedy, 81, announced he would retire, meaning Trump could appoint a justice loyal to him.  The bully wants loyalists at all costs.  Shall we all wear MAGA hats and bow down to the wanna-be king? Shall we start doing the Nazi salute, like the brainwashed Germans before World War II?

The Supreme Court voted 5-4 to uphold Trump’s Travel Ban. Muslims continue to be battered, as if they are 2nd class citizens. A dear friend of mine, an American citizen, who converted to Islam years ago, has decided America is no longer for her; luckily she married someone from Canada and is now transitioning to becoming a Canadian citizen. Why are we turning our back on people of different faiths? Why are we turning our backs on our rich culture of diversity?

The Supreme Court ruled public unions could no longer collect fees from nonmembers – this has major implications for the future of organized labor.  Unions brace for the loss of members and fees in the wake of this ruling. Working class people had better prepare themselves for a deterioration in their working conditions and their pay.  Who will advocate for them?

Meanwhile, the Niagara River rushes headlong over cliffs, thundering and churning, carrying anything, and anyone, caught up in its currents. Will we all be pulled eventually into the maelstrom of hatred and nationalism and white supremacy that is sure to be our downfall?  Or will we pull ourselves out of the political current, dry ourselves off, shake our heads in shame, and get to work loving our fellow man regardless of race, faith, sexual orientation, or political leanings?  Will we have sympathy for the poor, people who are struggling with drug and alcohol addiction, people who seek asylum, those who seek everyday lives free of violence?

Cave of the Winds
Cave of the Winds
Horseshoe Falls
Horseshoe Falls
Hornblower Cruise & Horseshoe Falls
Hornblower Cruise & Horseshoe Falls

*June 25-29, 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.  In this case, one of my intentions for my trip to Niagara Falls was to pick out a newspaper headline each morning and freewrite about how the idea of it relates to any part of my journey.

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 & poetry.  (This page is a work in process.) You can also include photos, of course.

Include the link in the comments below by Monday, December 10 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this invitation on Tuesday, December 11, 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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the painted desert rim trail at petrified forest national park

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 November 25, 2018

The Painted Desert Rim Trail at Petrified Forest National Park is a one-mile round trip (1.6km) walk between Tawa Point and Painted Desert Inn.  From the rim, there are excellent views of the multi-hued Painted Desert below.

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Beginning at Tawa Point

I walked a half-mile through pinyon-juniper scrubland atop volcanic rock.

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The Painted Desert

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The Painted Desert

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The Painted Desert

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The Painted Desert

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The Painted Desert

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The Painted Desert

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The Painted Desert

The Painted Desert Rim Trail
The Painted Desert Rim Trail
The Painted Desert Rim Trail
The Painted Desert Rim Trail
The Painted Desert Rim Trail
The Painted Desert Rim Trail

The Painted Desert Inn is a trading post-turned-inn-turned-museum.  At the end of the half-mile trail, I stopped inside where a ranger told me all about the history of the place.  He pointed out the murals, the rounded corners, and the decorative ceiling.

The original building from the early 1920s was made of petrified wood. Today’s adobe facade dates to the 1930s renovation in the Pueblo Revival Style.  This National Historic Landmark is now a museum with exhibits on the park’s recent human history and architecture.

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Painted Desert Inn

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Bar area in Painted Desert Inn

The murals at the Painted Desert Inn depict symbols, stories and ceremonies of the Hopi and their ancestral Pueblan people who lived in this region.

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Mural at Painted Desert Inn

The Salt Lake Mural tells the story of two Hopi men on a salt gathering journey who walked a 230-mile trip from their home in the Zuni mesas and back, passing through what is now Petrified Forest National Park.  It was both a physical and coming-of-age journey.

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Mural at Painted Desert Inn

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Mural at Painted Desert Inn

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Ceiling at Painted Desert Inn

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Painted Desert Inn

I walked out to Kachina Point near the Inn for more views of the Painted Desert.

view from Kachina Point
view from Kachina Point
view from Kachina Point
view from Kachina Point
view from Kachina Point
view from Kachina Point

Then I walked back the way I came, along the Painted Desert Rim Trail, to Tawa Point.  Here, I hopped in my car and left Petrified Forest National Park by 1:15.  My next destination was the Hubbell Trading Post.

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Painted Desert Rim Trail

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Painted Desert Rim Trail

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Painted Desert Rim Trail

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Painted Desert Rim Trail

As this was my second day in the park, I got another cancellation stamp. 🙂

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Petrified Forest National Park stamp for today

*Tuesday, May 15, 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.

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  • Anticipation
  • Books
  • Greece

anticipation & preparation: greece

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 November 23, 2018

When I decided to visit Greece in September, 2012, I read a lot of books, watched movies, searched websites, and read guidebooks to help me plan my trip and to get inspired.

BOOKS: Here are some of the books I read, with reviews.

April 11, 2012: Odyssey with the Goddess: At the end of the book, Carol writes: “I picked up my pen and wrote the phrase: ‘the serpentine path.’

“Those were the words I had been searching for as I sought to name the experience of Zakros!  The serpentine path was the path of my life, a snakelike, meandering path, winding in and out, up and down.  The antithesis of the “straight and narrow.” A path that does not ever “come to a point.” Two steps left, two steps right.  Into the darkness, into the light.  Not the goal, but the journey.”

I love these words from Carol’s book about her odyssey to self-realization on the island of Crete.  She finds power in the Greek goddesses and learns that she doesn’t have to be in control all the time.  She learns that she is loved, that she just has to believe and accept the love that is in abundance around her.  I love this story because it celebrates the power of womanhood in an ancient culture where women were seen as goddesses.

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Delphi

May 30, 2012: Eurydice Street: A Place in Athens:  In this book, writer Sofka Zinovieff tells of her experience accompanying her husband Vassilis on a posting back to Athens in 2001; he returning to his fatherland and she returning to her first love.  She embraces it, yet sees it unflinchingly as an outsider.  Their Athenian friends had warned: “Greece is good for holidays but not for living.” So.  She arrives in Athens with some trepidation.

She depicts Athens as full of rowdy tavernas, political demonstrations, and polluted chaos.  At one point she says, “Athens may be an ancient city, but it is also uncompromisingly modern.  And there’s hardly anything else between the two extremes.  It’s almost as though the Athenians went straight from carved marble to reinforced concrete, skipping the intervening centuries.”

I love her blatant honesty and humor as she looks squarely at a culture that has been marked by years of foreign occupation, terrorism, war, internal strife and poverty. She speaks of the “inherent contradictions” of Greece: its love of excess as opposed to its desire for purification. She talks about the “practical, everyday quality” of Greek Orthodoxy: “its influence is everywhere, but it is fitted into ordinary life.”  She strips bare the glamor of the city, then paints on an aura of magic.  It seems a city of huge contradictions.

Since I went to Turkey in 2010, I found especially interesting her story of “the Catastrophe of 1922,” when around 900,000 Orthodox refugees from Asia Minor had arrived in Greece, driven away violently during the Greco-Turkish War.  In 1923, the “Convention Concerning the Exchange of Greek and Turkish Populations”  was signed in Switzerland by the governments of Greece and Turkey.  It involved around 2 million people (around 1.5 million Anatolian Greeks and 500,000 Muslims in Greece), most of whom were forcibly made refugees, based on their religious identity, and de jure denaturalized from their homelands.

When I was in Turkey, I heard about this population exchange from the Turkish side.  Now it is interesting to read about it from the Greek side.  It sounds like it was an horrific exchange, with thousands of people massacred.

This was an excellent book and I’m glad I read it before my upcoming trip to Greece. The account brings the city down to earth. It’s funny how you imagine the glamorous things about a place before traveling there, and sometimes your imaginings lead to disappointment. Now I feel I’m ready to appreciate modern-day Athens for what it really is.

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Crete

June 21, 2012: Eleni: This book tells the story of Eleni Gatzoyiannis, 41, who defied intimidation by communist insurgents during the Greek Civil War following WWII and arranged for the escape of her three daughters and her son, Nicola, from their village of Lia.  In 1948, children were being abducted and sent to communist “camps” inside the Iron Curtain.  Because Eleni arranged for her children’s escape, she was imprisoned, tortured, and executed in cold blood.

Her son Nicola, who later took the American name of Nicholas Gage, joined his father in Massachusetts at the age of 9, after having lived his entire life in wartime Greece.   He became a top New York Times investigative reporter, sharpening his skills with one goal in mind: to return to Greece and uncover the details of, and avenge, his mother’s death.

Once I got into this book, I could hardly put it down.  I was caught up, along with the poor villagers of Lia, in the communist insurgency, as the guerrillas occupied their village and made their lives a living hell.  Whenever I have read books about war told from the civilian side, I have always been appalled by the behaviors that human beings are capable of toward one another.  All in the name of “ideals.”  The paranoia that exists under these kinds of situations, from everything I’ve read, is insidious and unbelievable. Neighbors use any small grudge or jealousy to turn on their neighbors, to save their own skin or simply to get revenge on people for their own petty insecurities or perceived slights.

Here is a quote from the book describing the setting for this story:

“In the decade of war from 1939 to 1949, one out of every ten Greeks was killed — 450,000 during World War II and 150,000 during the civil war.  Of the survivors, nearly 100,000 had been exiled behind the Iron Curtain, some by choice, many by force.  Families were rent apart, not to be reunited for many years, often forever. The children taken in the pedomasoma from the Mourgana villages were went to Rumania, while their parents found themselves in Hungary or Poland; the girls conscripted as andartinas (girl soldiers) wound up in Russia or Czechoslovakia.”

This story of wartime Greece is personalized in the character of Nicola’s mother, Eleni.

In the end, Nicola spent years tracking down his mother’s killers, finally coming face-to-face with the only living person who was most culpable, a man called Katis.  He wanted to kill the man, especially as he was cold, arrogant and indifferent and continued to deny his culpability for Eleni’s death, despite the overwhelming evidence Gage had collected against him. In the end, Gage couldn’t do it because of “the understanding of my mother that I had gained in my examination of her life.”  He realized that Eleni “did not spend the last of her strength cursing her tormenters,” but “she found the courage to face death because she had done her duty to those she loved.”  He realized he would have had to uproot the love in himself and sink to the level of Katis, void of all humanity or compassion.  He knew by killing Katis, he would abandon his own children, something Eleni would have never done.

In 1985, Eleni was made into a feature film starring John Malkovich as Gage. In 1987, Eleni was cited by Ronald Reagan as an inspiration for his summit meetings to end the arms race with the Soviet Union.

This was a great book that gave me a great history lesson on Greece told from a personal point of view.  Astounding book!

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Crete

July 27, 2012:  Little Infamies is a book of short stories published in 2002 by Panos Karnezis; it is set in a nameless Greek village in some unknown time.   These are stories of mythical realism; in each story I’m taken aback by the magical, and often dark and sinister, feel to them.  In the stories we meet the villagers, including the priest (ubiquitous in every Greek village), a doctor, a seamstress, a mayor, and a coffee-shop proprietor called Whale because of his immense size.  Animals also make appearances, including a horse named History, a centaur, and a parrot that recites Homer.

In the story, “A Funeral of Stones,” we find a man who keeps his twin daughters tied up in the basement like animals because he blames them for his wife’s death in childbirth.  The twins eventually escape and take off with a bird-fancier woman.  The village priest, who believes the girls died many years ago, finds out otherwise when, after an earthquake, he discovers their graves filled with stones.  He goes in search of the story only to find they escaped many years earlier.  Their escape had been covered up by the villagers, making them parties to the father’s crimes against his daughters.

The stories involve neighbors complicit in each others’ wrongdoings, or, alternatively, neighbors turn too easily on neighbors.  From the book’s inside cover: “Their lives intersect and they know each other’s secrets: the hidden crimes, the mysteries, the little infamies that all of us commit.”

I enjoyed the stories, but I’m not a big fan of magical realism, so for me that detracted from my pleasure.  After reading Eleni, which showed the Greeks at their worst, and this story, which certainly doesn’t make them attractive, I’m now a little leery about what kinds of characters I will encounter in Greece!

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Santorini

July 26, 2012: Cafe Tempest: Adventures on a Small Greek Island.  This is a “fictional memoir” by Barbara Bonfigli.  I have to say I was relieved to reach the end.

In the story, Sarah, the main character, and her friend Alex travel to the Greek island of Pharos.  Sarah is a thirty-something American theatrical producer who lives in London and who just broke up with her boyfriend.  Sarah also practices yoga and is writing a magazine article about mantras.  Her friend Alex, a girl, happens to be another of Sarah’s ex-lovers.  While in Pharos, the local doctor Theo asks Sarah if she will help produce the island’s summer play.  Sarah impetuously agrees and chooses Shakespeare’s The Tempest.  She proceeds to line up characters from the island’s inhabitants: including a taxi driver Caliban and a postmaster Prospero.

I am on a quest to read as many books about Greece as possible to get a feel for the country before I visit there in September.  Though I do get a great feel for the small island of Pharos, where the novel takes place, and for the characters that inhabit this island, I don’t enjoy Bonfigli’s writing style.  It seems disjointed; the action and conversations seem to bounce around like a misshapen rubber ball. Also, the author tosses in so many Greek phrases and words that I find the story hard to follow.  Maybe if I hadn’t been reading the Kindle version, I would have realized there is a glossary at the back.  I come to it too late for it to have been any help.

Often the story seems like an inside joke from which I am excluded.  Half the time, I have to reread parts to figure out what is going on.  There seems a forced cleverness to every conversation; the main character Sarah is too busy trying to be witty to establish real connections with people. I find this annoying.

I find I like Sarah best when she is being reflective and meditative.  Some of her words of wisdom are “If your ex-lovers don’t become your friends, you’re dancing on a dark stage.”  I like this idea that love has a capacity to expand and reinvent itself.

She says another time: “Life on Pharos is intoxicating in its simplicity.”  I like the idea of travel as a way to escape into an intoxicating and simple parallel reality.  I don’t want to be the same person I always am when I am traveling.  I want to escape, to just be.  Sarah’s meditations and mantras appeal to me for this reason. “Ham Sa” or “I am That,” suggest an interconnectedness with the universe. I am drawn to this feeling.

Finally, Sarah falls in love with Monika, who has only ever been involved with men.  She tells Monika: “You love who you love. My heart doesn’t notice anything else.  It only knows that it’s happy.”  Monika, who is not sure yet about getting involved with a woman, replies, “And your brain doesn’t interfere?”  Shortly after that, Monika disappears for a few days as she tries to process her feelings for another woman.   Sarah is much more open and sees men as only “fifty percent of [her] hunting grounds.” The book explores labels that freeze people’s imaginations and inhibit their ability to discover who they are.

There are definitely interesting and thought-provoking ideas in this book; the problem is that when the characters light on these ideas, they too quickly skitter off in every direction, like fiddler crabs on a sandy beach.

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Santorini

August 12, 2012: Corelli’s Mandolin: Tonight I finish the amazing 1994 novel, Corelli’s Mandolin.  I love the world created by British author Louis de Bernières so much that I will probably linger in it for quite some time, despite the fact that this world was filled with unimaginable hardships and horrors.  The book’s characters, though imaginary, are full of depth and life.  The setting is historical, and thus factual for the most part, set on the Greek island of Cephallonia before, during and after World War II.  The Italian army occupies the once tranquil island, and sets in motion a chain of events that is both heartwarming and utterly devastating.

From Goodreads (Captain Corelli’s Mandolin):

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin is set in the early days of WWII, before Mussolini invades Greece. Dr Iannis practices medicine on the island of Cephallonia, accompanied by his daughter, Pelagia, to whom he teaches much of his healing art. Even when the Italians do invade, life isn’t so bad–at first anyway. The officer in command of the Italian garrison is the cultured Captain Antonio Corelli, who responds to a Nazi greeting of “Heil Hitler” with his own “Heil Puccini”, and whose most precious possession is his mandolin. It isn’t long before Corelli and Pelagia are involved in a heated affair–despite her engagement to a young fisherman, Mandras, who has gone off to join Greek partisans. Love is complicated enough in wartime, even when the lovers are on the same side. And for Corelli and Pelagia, it becomes increasingly difficult to negotiate the minefield of allegiances, both personal and political, as all around them atrocities mount, former friends become enemies and the ugliness of war infects everyone it touches.

What makes the novel so amazing are the characters.  Dr. Iannis is the local doctor who spends much of his spare time writing about the history of Cephallonia and nurturing his beloved only daughter Pelagia. Pelagia is not like other women on the island in that she is highly respected, educated and loved by her father.  She even has dreams to become a doctor, unheard of in those days for any woman. Pelagia first falls in love with Mandras, a young, handsome local fisherman. He also falls in love with her, only to destroy their relationship by going to fight in the war, and ultimately becoming a cruel and inhumane man obsessed by Communism.  Antonio Corelli is an Italian captain with a love for music and life. He despises the war, and falls in love with Pelagia; but the war inevitably tears them apart again. Corelli is one of those energetic and charming men with a great sense of humor, the kind of man all women love to love.  The interactions of Corelli and Pelagia are entertaining and endearing, and, as a woman, I can see why she falls for him.  She is equally charming and smart; I can easily understand why he falls in love with her.

A major player in the story is Carlo Guercio, a good-natured, but closeted, homosexual Italian soldier who falls in love with a straight Francisco, only to lose him to the war. He later falls in love with Corelli and sacrifices his life to save the Captain’s.  This homosexual, and unrequited, love is never acted upon by Carlo, except in ways that are self-sacrificing and honorable.  He’s an amazing character.

The theme of love is explored heavily in this novel, starting with the lust-love of Pelagia and Mandras. Love is described by Dr. Iannis as “what is left when the passion has gone”, and it certainly appears that this criterion is fulfilled by the love of Corelli and Pelagia. The paternal love of Iannis for Pelagia is also strong and never-ending.

Music is a major theme, offering a direct contrast to the horror and destruction that the war brings, showing how something beautiful can arise from something horrible.

The war is described in graphic detail, particularly the death of Francisco, Carlo’s unrequited love. It is responsible for the fall of Mandras and the German Weber, the deaths of Carlo and Francisco, and the separation of Pelagia and Corelli.  It is the source of much suffering and devastation, much like in the book I read earlier, Eleni by Nicolas Gage.  The war demonstrates the horrors that people are capable of inflicting on one another in the name of ideologies such as Fascism, Nazism and Communism.

As horrible as this world was, the characters made the world somehow palatable, even romantic.  The love between Pelagia and Corelli is one of those timeless and enduring love stories that I will hold in my heart forever.

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view from a monastery at Meteora

MOVIES

April 2, 2012: Shirley Valentine

My British friend Sandy came again to Oman to visit for her spring break and, at my request, she brought the movie Shirley Valentine (1989).  From IMDb:

“Shirley’s a middle-aged Liverpool housewife, who finds herself talking to the wall while she prepares her husband’s chip’n’egg, wondering what happened to her life. She compares scenes in her current life with what she used to be like and feels she’s stagnated and in a rut. But when her best friend wins an all-expenses-paid vacation to Greece for two, Shirley begins to see the world, and herself, in a different light.”

I can identify with Shirley’s feelings as a housewife feeling stagnated and trapped.  This movie reminds me of my favorite Italian film, Bread & Tulips, where a frustrated housewife escapes her life and makes a new life for herself in Venice.  I love these kinds of movies where women realize their unhappiness and make changes in their lives to improve them!  Bread & Tulips was one of the movies that inspired my nomadic life.

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Church in Athens

May 19, 2012: My Life in Ruins 

Tonight, to get in the mindset for my upcoming trip to Greece, I watch a pretty bad movie, My Life in Ruins.  This is a 2009 romantic comedy set among the ruins of ancient Greece. Nia Vardalos (of My Big Fat Greek Wedding fame) stars as Georgia, a laid-off American professor of classical Greek history who is now working as a tour guide.  She fashions her tours in the form of a university classroom, trying to teach her group of vagabonds about the history of Greece she finds so fascinating.  However, this uneducated bunch of misfits has no interest in learning anything.  It seems they just want to eat ice cream, shop for tacky souvenirs, get their picture taken in hokey poses, and buy T-shirts.

According to Wikipedia, the film is set on location in Greece and Alicante, in Spain, as well as Guadalest and Javea. This was the first time that an American film studio was allowed to film on location at the Acropolis;  the Greek government gave the studio its approval after Vardalos sought permission to film several scenes there. Other Greek filming locations include Olympia, Delphi and Epidaurus.

The scenery of Greece and its classical architecture is frankly the only reason I find this movie at all appealing.

The cast of characters, though meant to be misfits, are so obnoxious I can hardly stand them.  Vardalos as Georgia is endearing, but the other characters are mainly one-dimensional bad stereotypes of Americans, Australians, and Brits.

In a clash of personalities and cultures, everything seems to go wrong until the day when older traveler Irv Gideon, played by Richard Dreyfuss, shows Georgia how to have fun, and to take a good look at the last person she would ever expect to find love with, her Greek bus driver Prokopi Kakas, played by Alexis Georgoulis.

The characters in this movie get on my nerves big time.  The saving grace is that I get to see some of the beautiful places in Greece I hope to see in person this September… 🙂


I plotted out my trip for September of 2012:

  • August 31: Athens
  • September 2: Crete
  • September 5: Santorini
  • September 9: Return to Athens
  • September 10: Delphi
  • September 11: Meteora
  • September 12: Mycenae, Nafplio, and Epidaurus and Return to Athens
  • September 13: Return to Oman

greek wanderings: catbird’s rambles through greece

books | international a-z |

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“ANTICIPATION & PREPARATION” INVITATION: I invite you to write a post on your own blog about anticipation & preparation for a particular destination (not journeys in general). If you don’t have a blog, I invite you to write in the comments. Include the link in the comments below by Thursday, December 27 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Friday, December 28, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, on the 4th Friday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂  If you’d like to read more about the topic, see: journeys: anticipation & preparation.

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

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  • challenge: a call to place
  • destinations
  • Greece

the call to place: greece

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 November 22, 2018

I was called to Greece by ruins and antiquities, by the Acropolis and its Parthenon, or “virgin’s apartment.” By columns carved into shapes of caryatids.  By the religious and spiritual center of the ancient Greek world, Delphi, used for the worship of Apollo.  By the siren song of Greek gods and goddesses – Athena, Apollo, & Poseidon – and superhuman people – Lapiths, Centaurs, Athenians, Amazons and Giants.

I was called to Greece by Greek Orthodox churches – their mosaics, blue domed rooftops, and church bells –  and pagan temples. By mosques topped by minarets, vestiges of Ottoman occupiers of Crete.

I was called to Greece by olive oil, sardines, spanikopita, moussaka, caper leaves, feta cheese, avgolemono soup, bruschetta sprinkled with olives and fresh tomatoes, Mythos beer, and flaming aubergine saganaki.

I was called to Greece by Greek writers of drama and comedy – Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes – and the theaters in which their plays came to life.

I was called to Greece by photos of whitewashed villages spilling down volcanic calderas, by royal blue domes mirroring the impossibly blue Mediterranean, by active volcanoes, by ferries scooting across the sea, by colorful wrought iron, by windmills and dreamy coves and beaches.

I was called to Greece by its thousands of islands sprinkled throughout four seas: the Aegean, the Ionian, the Cretan and the Mediterranean.

I was called to Greece by Meteora monasteries perched at the tops of columns of rocks.

I was called to Greece by virtue of its being the cradle of Western civilization, the birthplace of democracy, Western philosophy, Western literature, political science, major scientific and mathematical principles, and Western drama, as well as the Olympic Games.  At the same time, I was called by its graffiti, sometimes called “Protest Art,” brought about economic crisis and austerity measures of 2012.

I was called to Greece for the blending of ancient and modern, for its convoluted and tortured history and its stunning beauty.

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The Parthenon

Ottoman Mosque of the Sultan Ibrahim Han on Crete
Ottoman Mosque of the Sultan Ibrahim Han on Crete
House in Chania
House in Chania
Beach in Crete
Beach in Crete
beach in Crete
beach in Crete
Santorini
Santorini
Meteora
Meteora

In June of 2010, my yearning for Greece came into sharp focus after I read the novel Three Junes by Julia Glass. From Amazon.com:

“In June of 1989 Paul McLeod, a newspaper publisher and recent widower, travels to Greece, where he falls for a young American artist and reflects on the complicated truth about his marriage… Six years later, again in June, Paul’s death draws his three grown sons and their families back to their ancestral home.  Fenno, the eldest, a wry, introspective gay man, narrates the events of this unforeseen reunion. Four years later, in yet another June, a chance meeting on the Long Island shore brings Fenno together with Fern Olitsky, the artist who once captivated his father. Now pregnant, Fern must weigh her guilt about the past against her wishes for the future and decide what family means to her.”

I was living in Korea and starting to think about my summer vacation.  At that time I was trying to choose between Turkey, Greece and Italy.  I would have gone to Greece if my daughter Sarah had been able to go along with me.  Since she couldn’t, I settled on Turkey.  I didn’t end up going to Greece until September of 2012.

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Movie poster on Crete for Mama Mia!

While living in Oman in December 2011, my friend Sandy brought the movie Mama Mia! (2008) when she came from Britain to Nizwa to visit her husband Malcolm, my colleague at the university.  From IMDb:

“Set on a colorful Greek island, the plot serves as a background for a wealth of ABBA songs. A young woman (Amanda Seyfried) about to be married discovers that any one of three men could be her father. She invites all three to the wedding without telling her mother, Donna (Meryl Streep), who was once the lead singer of Donna and the Dynamos. In the meantime, Donna has invited her backup singers, Rosie and Tanya.”

This movie is so beautifully filmed and makes Greece look so enticing, I couldn’t help but be inspired to visit!  When Meryl Streep, wearing a gorgeous dress with a gauzy red scarf, sings “The Winner Takes It all” to Pierce Brosnan, running dramatically up the steps of a rocky island, I can’t help but get all choked up.  Sometimes when I hear this song, so sad, I weep….

The winner takes it all, the loser has to fall,
It’s simple and it’s plain, why should I complain.

But tell me, does she kiss like I used to kiss you,
Does it feel the same when she calls your name.
Somewhere deep inside you must know I miss you,
But what can I say, rules must be obeyed.
The judges will decide the likes of me abide,
Spectators of the show always staying low.

The game is on again, a lover or a friend,
A big thing or a small, the winner takes it all.

Even after I spending two weeks in Greece in 2012, I still yearn to return one day.  Since visiting Crete and Santorini, I have often dreamed of having an apartment on a Greek island.  It may never happen, but the call is there, an idea weaving itself through my imagination.

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“THE CALL TO PLACE” INVITATION: I invite you to write a post on your own blog about what enticed you to choose a particular destination. If you don’t have a blog, I invite you to write in the comments.  If your destination is a place you love and keep returning to, feel free to write about that.  If you want to see the original post about the subject, you can check it out here: imaginings: the call to place.

Include the link in the comments below by Wednesday, December 26 at 1:00 p.m. EST.

My next “call to place” post is scheduled to post on Thursday, December 27.  If you’d like, you can use the hashtag #wanderessence.

This will be an ongoing invitation, on the fourth Thursday 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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  • Camino de Santiago
  • France
  • Hikes & Walks

on journey: launching my camino

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 November 21, 2018

For once, it didn’t matter that my flight was delayed.  It was actually a blessing that my 10:20 p.m. flight to Lisbon from Dulles International Airport on Friday, August 31 sat on the tarmac for nearly two hours due to thunderstorms and lightning. What was meant to be a 7:15 hour flight was supposed to deposit me in Lisbon at 10:35 a.m. on Saturday, September 1, meaning I would have to wait around Lisbon eleven hours for my overnight train to Hendaye, France.

Before boarding the flight, I met two ladies traveling to Lisbon, Porto and Barcelona.  They said they’d send prayers along with me.  Two other ladies with quite heavy backpacks were embarking on the 140-mile Portuguese route of the Camino. We wished each other Buen Camino! and boarded the plane to wait for take-off.

Onboard, passengers swarmed around sulkily, like a hive of sated yet edgy bees. Passengers were allowed to leave the plane if they took all their carry-on bags. When the luggage was finally loaded in the cargo hold once the storms passed, the flight crew rounded up the wayward passengers.

Finally airborne, I watched the 2018 Fred Rogers movie, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?  Fred Rogers was creator, composer, producer, head writer, and host of the preschool television series Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood (1968–2001). He talked about how there is something inside us that hasn’t been lost – childhood. On his show, he addressed children’s feelings, such as “I think I might be a mistake.”  Or, “I’m not like anyone else.” Besides addressing children’s everyday emotions, he also addressed social issues of the times, such as divorce, war, assassinations and racial tensions. On one notable episode, Rogers soaked his feet alongside African-American Officer François Clemmons in a kiddie pool on a hot day, a subtle symbolic message of inclusion during a time when racial segregation in the United States was widespread.

As our country is in the same predicament today as it was in the 1960s, I promised myself to pray for the state of the world, and my country, as I walked the Camino.

I tried to sleep but when my efforts failed, I watched the in-flight map. At one point we were over St. John’s and Grand Bank, Newfoundland and Labrador in Canada.  Later, at 4:27 a.m., the local time in Lisbon was 9:27 and we had 2:37 hours to go.  The estimated arrival time was 12:04.  Altitude 35,092 feet.  Traveled 2,334 miles.  The airplane icon onscreen hovered about midway over the Atlantic, northwest of the Azores.

Because we didn’t take off until close to midnight, I arrived in Lisbon at 12:06 p.m., narrowing the window of time from 11 to 9 hours before the next step of my journey.

From the airport, I took the metro three stops to Estacao Gare do Oriente in the Vasco da Gama area of the city. The station had a luggage storage area but I was stymied by the lockers; luckily an Italian couple showed me how to use them. It was miserably hot.  Dressed in the long hiking pants and long-sleeve shirt that I’d worn overnight on the plane, I was sweaty and uncomfortable. At the Vasco da Gama Mall, I sat at a cafe and enjoyed a pastel de nata and a cold coffee. I thought the mall would offer some respite from the heat, but it didn’t seem to be air-conditioned, so I escaped to walk on a promenade along the sea.  At a place called Sea Palace, I had Dim Sum, but that was just as miserable at it had no air-conditioning either. I sweated during my entire meal. I so wanted to stretch out somewhere and sleep, but that was impossible.  It was a miserable nine hours waiting for the time to pass.

promenade
promenade
lounging nudes at Centro Vasco de Gama
lounging nudes at Centro Vasco de Gama
snack stand on the promenade
snack stand on the promenade
Jardim Garcia de Orta
Jardim Garcia de Orta
Torre Vasco de Gama
Torre Vasco de Gama
hiking boots waiting to begin
hiking boots waiting to begin
Jardim Garcia de Orta
Jardim Garcia de Orta
Alameda dos Oceanos
Alameda dos Oceanos
near the Vasco de Gama mall
near the Vasco de Gama mall

Finally, I grabbed my pack from the locker at Oriente and and boarded the overnight train to Hendaye at 9:34 p.m.

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Estacao do Oriente

On the Trenhotel, I settled into a compartment on train #310, Car 13, Bed 31. I found it odd the arrangement of 1s & 3s in the various numbers, especially as I’ve always considered #13 my lucky number. I stretched out on the bottom bunk across from a chubby Spanish woman wearing a black & white striped blouse; she had barricaded herself into her bed with several large suitcases.  At one point during the train ride, I tried to close the curtains since the lights from the passing stations kept waking me up, but she snapped at me and refused to allow it.

Above me was an 18-year-old German girl wearing a skimpy knit tank dress; she was traveling alone for the first time. An Austrian girl burst into our compartment in the middle of the night and climbed noisily to the top bunk above the Spanish woman.  For a long time, the two girls chatted in German over our heads, “Ach so!” flying back and forth between them.  The Spanish woman’s perpetual sighs wove through their conversation.  As I lay there, fully dressed in my hiking clothes, sleep proved elusive.

The train trundled and rumbled and clanked, and through the curtains, rectangles of light glided and flickered across the compartment’s walls.  I drifted in and out of sleep. The Spanish woman left the train in Madrid, taking her sighs with her.

I finally fell into a deep sleep, waking at 10:30 a.m. on Sunday morning. The German girl and I chatted.  She wanted to study at university to be a history and geography teacher.  She hadn’t had a great trip because she had problems with her Master Card not working.  When she called her bank, they said something was wrong with the servers.  She was running out of money.  A guy in Barcelona followed her in his car one night; he was masturbating, which greatly upset her.  She was heading to Paris to stay four days, after which she’d return home to Germany.

I ate a sweet bun I’d bought from the Oriente train station, but I had no coffee. It didn’t matter, I suppose, as I wasn’t all that hungry anyway.

I arrived in Hendaye, France at 11:33 a.m. on Sunday, September 2.  After about an hour wait, I caught another 1-hour train from Hendaye to Bayonne.  Out the window, I saw charming red-roof and whitewashed towns against a backdrop of sea.

I think I smelled pretty sour from all the sweating yesterday and no shower for two days.

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Bayonne

In Bayonne, I waited with a throng of pilgrims for the next train to St-Jean-Pied-de-Port.  When it finally arrived, people jammed onboard.  It was so crowded, we could hardly move.  Luckily an additional car was arranged and half the people moved to the other car, giving us a bit of breathing room.  On the train, I had a long conversation with Ingrid from Minnesota.

My Camino shell
My Camino shell
pilgrims awaiting the train in Bayonne
pilgrims awaiting the train in Bayonne

We arrived in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port at 4:30 p.m. on Sunday, September 2. Pilgrims scattered to their albergues in the old town.  I trudged up the main street in search of Beilari, and Ingrid went off to her albergue. It turned out that Ingrid and I would stay in Beilari on the night before we began our pilgrimage (our second night in St-Jean) and we’d walk together our first two days over the Pyrenees.  I would meet her numerous times on the Camino, but eventually she would leave me behind, as most people did, because her pace was faster than mine.

St-Jean-Pied-de-Port station
St-Jean-Pied-de-Port station
Ingrid from Minnesota
Ingrid from Minnesota
walking from the station to the old town
walking from the station to the old town
St-Jean-Pied-de-Port neighborhood
St-Jean-Pied-de-Port neighborhood
St-Jean-Pied-de-Port neighborhood
St-Jean-Pied-de-Port neighborhood

We walked through the city gate, Porte St-Jacques, into the old town.

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The city gate, Porte St-Jacques

I was quite tired and disoriented from my long and convoluted journey as I climbed up through the old cobbled streets to find my sweet spot for the night.

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streets of St-Jean-Pied-de-Port

After I checked in at Beilari, I wandered a bit around the old town.  As I wouldn’t begin walking until Tuesday morning, the 4th, I knew I’d be able to explore more fully the next day.

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St-Jean-Pied-de-Port

St-Jean-Pied-de-Port
St-Jean-Pied-de-Port
old town of St-Jean-Pied-de-Port
old town of St-Jean-Pied-de-Port
the portal, Porte d’Espagne
the portal, Porte d’Espagne
the Nive River
the Nive River
door to Notre-Dame-du-Bout-du-Pont
door to Notre-Dame-du-Bout-du-Pont
house in the town
house in the town
pilgrim
pilgrim
Pilgrim office
Pilgrim office
cozy lights
cozy lights

At Beilari, I shared a room with Molly from Michigan, Erika from Sweden, and Ferri from Indonesia. At 7:30, we were invited to apertivo.  We tossed an invisible ball to each other.  When we “caught” it, we shared our names, nationalities, and a brief sentence about why we were doing the Camino.  I said I wanted to learn to have faith that everything would turn out all right.

As Beilari doesn’t make a full meal on Sunday nights, they offered a free meal of vegetable soup and bread. On Monday night, we would enjoy a full meal. Two hearty Irish guys told our group they planned on walking the whole Camino in 26 days!

Pilgrim meal at Beilari
Pilgrim meal at Beilari
wine for toasts
wine for toasts

Molly and Ferri planned to walk all the way to Roncesvalles in one day, whereas I’d made a reservation in Orisson for my first night, meaning I’d get to Roncesvalles in two days.  They said they were sending their backpacks ahead because of the long walk.  I considered whether I should do the same because I was seriously afraid of not making it over the Pyrenees with my heavy pack and my bad knee.

It felt so good to get into a comfortable bed. Beilari turned lights out by 10:30, encouraging a peaceful night for all pilgrims.

**August 31-September 2, 2018*

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

In this case, I wrote about my experience of the long journey just to get to the start of the Camino Frances in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, France.

Include the link in the comments below by Tuesday, December 18 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Wednesday, December 19, 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!

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  • American Road Trips
  • Arizona
  • Four Corners Road Trip

the blue mesa trail at petrified forest national park

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 November 18, 2018

The Blue Mesa Trail at Petrified Forest National Park is a 1 mile (1.6km) loop on a steep path that winds through vibrant blue, purple and gray badlands dotted with colorful petrified wood.

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The Blue Mesa Trail

Badlands are a dry terrain where softer sedimentary rocks and clay-rich soils have been eroded extensively by wind and water. They are characterized by steep slopes and minimal vegetation; they commonly include canyons, ravines, gullies, buttes, mesas and hoodoos.  They are often difficult to navigate by foot.

Luckily there is a paved walkway here that makes it easy to explore.

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The Blue Mesa Trail

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bands of blue, gray and purple

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The Blue Mesa Trail

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The Blue Mesa Trail

 

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The striped slopes have a subdued palette.

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blue bands

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close-up of sediment

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Blue Mesa Trail

From the higher elevations, I find great views of the surrounding area of Billing’s Gap and various washes.

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view from top of Blue Mesa Trail to the surrounding area

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Blue Mesa Trail

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view from top of Blue Mesa Trail to the surrounding area

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view from top of Blue Mesa Trail to the surrounding area

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view from top of Blue Mesa Trail to the surrounding area

*Tuesday, May 15, 2018*

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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: The Last Lap.

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  • American Road Trips
  • Arches National Park
  • Four Corners Road Trip

artistry in stone

wanderessence1025's avatar wanderessence1025 November 15, 2018

“Dripping water hollows out stone, not through force but through persistence.” ~ Ovid

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nature’s artistry

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nature’s artistry

“Secrets carve us like water carves stone.  On the surface nothing will shift, but things we cannot tell anyone chafe and consume us, and slowly our life settles around them, moulds itself into their shape.” ~ Emmi Itäranta, Memory of Water

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nature’s artistry

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nature’s artistry

“Masterpieces aren’t just limited to canvas.” ~ Anthony Hincks

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nature’s artistry

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nature’s artistry

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nature’s artistry

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nature’s artistry

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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!

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 photos (fewer is better) and to write less than 350-400 words about any travel-related photography intention you set for yourself. Include the link in the comments below by Wednesday, November 28 at 1:00 p.m. EST.  When I write my post in response to this challenge on Thursday, November 29, I’ll include your links in that post.

This will be an ongoing invitation, every first and third (& 5th, if there is one) Thursday 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!

  • Lynn, of bluebrightly, wrote about her extensive road trip around the Los Angeles area, with highlights from the city, the desert, the mountains and the beach.
    • SO(very)CAL: L.A. and Around
  • Jude, of Travel Words, posted some very Italian-looking photos from Little Italy in San Diego.
    • Little Italy: Part One

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

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