Baggage-Free Travel

I have written before about the concept of travelling light (Travelling Light, Travelling Lighter, and my Guide to Packing Light), and I’ve tried to practice what I preach – with less than perfect results – but Rolf Potts has taken the concept to the extreme. He recently completed a round the world trip which saw him spend 42 days on the road covering 34,440 miles; 12 countries; 3 oceans; 12 flights; and 4 train journeys - all with no luggage what-so-ever. Not even a man-bag or fanny pack.

Rolf is a travel writer, and his trip was sponsored by ScotteVest, a manufacture of travel clothing, and the travel website Boots-n-All.

The No Baggage Challenge, as it came to be called, essentially required Rolf to carry everything in his pockets. I have spent several hours already catching up on Rolf’s blog posts (the trip is now over), and I have become very excited about the possibilities of travelling with the absolute minimum of luggage (I don’t think I’m quite up to travelling with no baggage at all).

Here he is introducing the trip.

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If you are interested in the concept of travelling light, I highly recommend you spend some time reading Rolf’s blog. Having no luggage was clearly very liberating, for him, but obviously it is not for everyone.

The Grand Canyon, Arizona

Image: The Grand Canyon in the early morning light

The Grand Canyon. The name seems to say it all. However, nothing really prepares you for the size, scale, and grandeur of this true natural wonder of the world. The canyon has always been high on my list of places to visit, and I was delighted to have had the opportunity to spend two nights there this past September. Let me say at the outset though, that in my opinion a day and a half is nowhere near enough to soak in the atmosphere and power of this massive national park. Having said that, it is probably more time than most people seem to spend there. But more of that later.

Located in Arizona, Grand Canyon National Park is one of the United States' oldest national parks. Within the park lies the Grand Canyon itself, a massive gorge of the Colorado River. Covering some 1900 square miles (4927 km2), the 280-mile long, one-mile deep canyon ranges in width from 10 to 18 miles across. The first European to see it (in 1540) was the Spanish explorer García López de Cárdenas, a conquistador attached to Francisco Vasquez de Coronado's expedition into New Mexico, and other parts of what are now the southwestern United States. Coronado had hoped to conquer the mythical Seven Cities of Gold.

In 1908, President Theodore Roosevelt declared the Canyon a national monument under the Antiquities Act. Congress declared the Canyon a national park in 1919, three years after the National Park Service was formed, and in 1979, UNESCO declared it a World Heritage Site.

On my first evening at the canyon I spent several hours at Yavapai Point taking in the sunset, and simply marveling at the powerful forces that – over a period of 17 million years – have shaped the massive chasm stretching off into the fading light. On Saturday morning, after watching the mule riders ready themselves for their journey down the Bright Angel Trail, I then spent another four hours or so soaking up the views.

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Image: Mule riders descend the Bright Angel Trail deep into the heart of the Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon is home to 70 species of mammals, 250 species of birds, 25 species of reptiles and five species of amphibians. Somewhere out there in the blue haze also were up to 172 wild California condors, either soaring high above the canyon floor or perched in aeries looking for their next meals.

Once on the brink of extinction due to poaching, lead poisoning, and habitat destruction, the California Condor (Gymnogyps californianus) inhabits only the Grand Canyon area, Zion National Park, and western coastal mountains of California and northern Baja California. In 1987 all remaining 22 wild condors were caught and moved to San Diego Wild Animal Park and the Los Angeles Zoo. Numbers have risen steadily through captive breeding and, beginning in 1991, condors have been reintroduced into the wild. As of August 2010, there are 384 condors known to be living, including 188 in the wild.

The quiet observer will see numerous squirrels and kangaroo rats, lizards, a wide variety of birdlife and the delightful mule deer.

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Image: A mule deer keeps cautious watch as it grazes near the Grand Canyon Village

An average of twelve thousand people a day visit the Grand Canyon, and most of these head for the South Rim and the Grand Canyon Village. Maybe it was because I was visiting well after peak tourist season, but if there where 12,000 visitors there during my stay – I didn’t see them. Many visitors arrive by bus on day tours arranged by any number of tour companies. At most, these visitors get a couple of hours to ‘see’ the canyon. From my observations, at least ninety percent of these visitors where simple intent on standing as close to the rim as possible while friends or family members took photographs of them blocking views of the canyon itself. Having ticked the Grand Canyon off their lists of places to visit, they then rushed off to buy souvenirs, eat and drink and make restroom stops before heading off in their coaches once again.

Here’s a typical(?) tour outline:

THE ULTIMATE GRAND CANYON TOUR

Enjoy first class Comfort in our luxury Coach or Van while we take you to all the must do’s of the Grand Canyon. This full day tour includes 1st class service throughout with a 1st Class Helicopter flight over the canyon, National Geographic IMAX showing, hot lunch, south rim Indian ruins, Desert View and Yavapai indoor - outdoor overlooks, Grand Canyon flight museum, Grand Canyons El Trevor, Mules, Train Depot, and Village.

The good people at Grand Canyon Old West Jeep Tours - from whose site I took the above information - have even created a video outlining the full day tour.

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Whew! That’s a pretty action packed day from what I can see, and little time is set aside for deep appreciation of one of the greatest natural phenomena on the planet. Clearly, if you are interested in spending even an hour or two contemplating life, death, nature, the environment and such like, you will not want to join this or similar tours.

Not that I am suggesting all the locations included in the one day tour outlined above are not worth a visit. I’m sure they are. It’s just that personally, I prefer to see them at a much slower pace which allows plenty of time for quiet reflection and deep appreciation – as this quote from John Muir’s* 1902 booklet, The Grand Cañon Of The Colorado attests:

In a dry, hot, monotonous forested plateau, seemingly boundless, you come suddenly and without warning upon the abrupt edge of a gigantic sunken landscape of the wildest, most multitudinous features, and those features, sharp and angular, are made out of flat beds of limestone and sandstone forming a spiry, jagged, gloriously colored mountain-range countersunk in a level gray plain. It is a hard job to sketch it even in scrawniest outline; and try as I may, not in the least sparing myself, I cannot tell the hundredth part of the wonders of its features—the side-cañons, gorges, alcoves, cloisters, and amphitheaters of vast sweep and depth, carved in its magnificent walls; the throng of great architectural rocks it contains resembling castles, cathedrals, temples, and palaces, towered and spired and painted, some of them nearly a mile high, yet beneath one's feet. All this, however, is less difficult than to give any idea of the impression of wild, primeval beauty and power one receives in merely gazing from its brink. The view down the gulf of color and over the rim of its wonderful wall, more than any other view I know, leads us to think of our earth as a star with stars swimming in light, every radiant spire pointing the way to the heavens. ~John Muir, The Grand Cañon Of The Colorado (1902)

With John Muir’s words ringing in my head, I headed out again into the late afternoon sun to spend another three hours sitting on various boulders overlooking the Canyon, and marveling at the forces of nature that have shaped this world renowned site.

I also marveled at the stupidity of some visitors who despite the dangers, insisted on standing on the most dangerous points they could find in order to shoot the most dramatic photographs they could get.

…Image: Pushing the boundaries of sense and safety this couple climb onto an exposed rocky outcrop looking for the perfect photo op

There is much to do during a visit to the Grand Canyon apart from stand on the rim for a photo opportunity. You could hike all or part of the 13 mile Rim Trail that takes you past many spectacular viewing canyon points. You could join the mule riders for the full day journey to the canyon floor. However, you will need to book up to a year in advance if you want to ride the mule train. If you can’t wait that long, there is a year round program of exhibits and educational programs including daily lectures and films about the geological history of the Canyon and the Colorado River. Visitors can also choose from a variety of Park Service-sponsored walks and talks to enhance their Canyon experience. The visitor's center also hosts programs that focus on endangered wildlife in the Canyon and preservation of the Canyon's historical and natural resources. Finally, various other walks and talks hosted by the Park Service are listed in the park newspaper, The Guide, available at the entrance station, and at other locations.

It is almost impossible to pick a favourite moment out of all the great experiences I had during American trip. While New York tends to overwhelm the senses, the Grand Canyon overwhelms the soul and should be on everyone’s ‘bucket list’ – you know, that list of things you’ve always wanted to do before you ‘kick the bucket’!

Again, let me reiterate that two nights and a day and a half are nowhere near enough to fully take in the Grand Canyon. Instead of crossing the canyon off my list of places to visit, I have left it firmly in place since I have every intention of returning for a longer, more appreciative stay.

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Image: Where’s my hat?

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*John Muir (21 April 1838 – 24 December 1914) was a Scottish-born American naturalist, author, and early advocate of preservation of wilderness in the United States. Read more here…

Online:
Grand Canyon News…

Wikipedia Grand Canyon entry…

Therma, Ikaria

Image: Therma, Ikaria

I don’t know a lot about hot springs and their healing properties, but people have been travelling to the small seaside town of Therma on the Greek island of Ikaria for centuries to immerse themselves in the hot, healing waters of radioactive springs, which many bathers claim have cured – or at least, eased the pain of – arthritis and other rheumatic aches and pains; made infertile women, fertile, and helped lessen the impact of a variety of other long-standing medical problems.

For the past two weeks I have been staying with my niece at Therma, where she is managing six rooms for an assortment of elderly Greek visitors who have come to bathe in one of several purpose built hydrotherapy centres in the town.

While here, I have also been reading the Anthony J. Papalas book, Ancient Icaria*. I will review the book in a later entry, but it has been fascinating to learn something about the history of the island, including the little village of Therma.

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Image: A flight of stairs that would test even Rocky Balboa!

Looking at this place, nestled as it is in a small, steep valley, with its whitewashed homes and multi-storied hotels; narrow winding streets, twisting stairs, confined walkways, and ever-present village cats: looking at all this, it is hard to imagine the village has a history stretching back to the 5th Century, BC, and beyond.

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Image: Modern hydrotherapy centre, Therma, Ikaria

According to the Papalas book, there was a time when Therma was the island’s second city – the ancient city of Oenoe (now Kampos) being the first, or largest. Both ‘cities’ have now been reduced to large villages, and several towns – Agios Kirikos, Evthilos, Karavostamo, and Armenistis amongst others – have all overtaken Therma in terms of their size. However, Therma continues to draw thousands of visitors each year to her radioactive springs, and can rightly claim to have had the last laugh on many of the larger towns and villages on Ikaria.

This is because the peak season for visitors across the rest of the island is concentrated around the months of July and August, whereas Therma’s season can begin as early as May and continues through until the end of October, thus ensuring that villagers, café and restaurant owners, hotel operators and their numerous suppliers are able to earn a living servicing the needs of the elderly and infirm long after the tourists and summer visitors have left other parts of the island.

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Image: Derelict hydrotherapy centre, Therma, Ikaria

Having said that, without the hot springs, there is little reason to think that Therma would have attracted much attention from anyone in the last two hundred years, let alone the past two thousand. The small valley floor, and the steep hills surrounding the valley are not easily cultivated. The villagers who have managed to eke out a living by working the land have had to carve small, narrow terraces out of the surrounding rock and dirt to grow what few vegetables they could. In addition, they have planted extensive groves of olive trees, which seem to thrive on the precipitous slopes. Meanwhile, the ever present goats which many families still tend in Ikaria, are perfectly suited to the island’s rocky landscape.

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Image: Early morning sun lights up homes clinging to the hills of Therma, Ikaria

With the summer rush well and truly over, it has been a real pleasure to spend some time in this ancient village, winding down from the hustle and bustle of New York City and my travels through southern America. I spent a couple of hours here in 2008, when my brother-in-law Ilia, was still in the early stages of building his three story Helion (Sun) Studios. It has been a long, slow process – everything on Ikaria seems to involve a long, slow process – and he is still not finished fitting out all nine rooms. However, one more winter should see everything finally completed in time for next year’s season of health seekers and sun worshipers.

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Image: Helion (Sun) Studios, Therma, Ikaria

*A note about spelling: Anthony J. Papalas uses the anglicized lowercase ‘c’ in Icaria. However, since the letter ‘c’ does not occur in the Greek alphabet, throughout this blog I have chosen to keep the Greek spelling for the island – hence, Ikaria.

The [Greek] Gods Are Angry

Image: Therma, Ikaria - pretty as a picture postcard - before the storm

Lightening dissects the sky, thunder rips the air, and sheets of water fall from the clouds, pulling a rain soaked curtain down over the hills surrounding the small village of Therma, Ikaria.

Waterfalls pour from terracotta tiles, rooftops fill with pools of water, and rivers form to wash the streets clean of autumn leaves, cat shite, plastic bags and bottles, goat droppings, loose garbage, and a summer’s worth of dirt, pebbles and powdered dust.

It is impossible to know whether the whole island is experiencing this, or just the northern side. Last night, I woke at 2.30AM, and noticed the sky illuminate with brief flashes of light. Looking out from my balcony, I could see stars and scattered clouds along our side of the island, but clearly, some other part of the southern Aegean was being washed clean of its accumulated summer detritus.

Today, it is our turn.

Mind you, it has been threatening to do this for days. The air has been heavy with humidity and dark, brooding clouds. These occasionally unleash short, violent downpours, but nothing as sustained as today’s drenching.

Looking out through the rain spattered glass of my balcony doors I can see half a dozen elderly men and women wrapped in dressing gowns. They are taking advantage of a brief lull in the storm to make their way back to their hotels and rented rooms, following their allotted session at one of Therma’s hydrotherapy centres.

They couldn’t have timed their return better.

… Image: Villagers watch flood waters surge below overpass

Five or ten minutes later, my attention is drawn to excited shouts and noise from the street below. I open the balcony doors and look down onto a group of twenty or so people milling around on the small overpass below my room.

Rain water has been steadily making its way down the high hillsides. First in trickles and rivulets; then gathering strength in streams and watercourses until finally, a large mass of accumulated water has finally reached the foot of the valley where the village is located. This water is now coursing through the centre of the village along a large culvert that does double duty as a road and parking area throughout the summer. With the rain, the culvert has reverted to its status as an open drain funnelling water into the Aegean Sea.

I quickly pull on a pair of boots and head down to the street, camera in hand.

… Image: In ‘clear and present danger’ these cars are at the mercy of surging flood water

Standing on the overpass with other visitors and locals, I see two cars in ‘clear and present danger’. It appears at least half a dozen cars were left parked in the culvert overnight, and now some are at serious risk of being swept into the sea by the onrush of water.

The culvert is covered from one side to the other with a fast-flowing river of dirty water the colour of chocolate. Floating and sliding, rolling and swirling, and bobbing along on this sea of brown are old car tyres, tree branches, plastic crates and bottles and large slabs of concrete that lined the culvert somewhere further up its length.

Some of the concrete slabs get jammed up against and underneath, the two cars caught in the flood. Rather than bump and push the cars further down the culvert, the slabs seem to be anchoring the cars in place, although both vehicles must have sustained some damage from the constant buffeting they get from passing debris.

… Image: Flooding water gouges away at the shale supporting this car

Meanwhile, a hundred yards further down the culvert, other car owners and café and restaurant operators have not been so ‘fortunate’. One or two cafés at street level are in danger of being flooded, and one car in particular is in imminent danger of sinking into the shale twenty or thirty feet from the Aegean’s beckoning waters. The car is perched precariously over a deep gash in the shale which continues to deepen by the minute as the torrent of water gouges its way towards the shoreline.

… Image: The normally clear Aegean waters at Therma covered with scum and debris

In complete contrast to the mess on land, the sea is perversely flat and calm – presumably due to an offshore breeze. Sadly, the usual crystal clear turquoise waters of the Aegean are discoloured with mud and other waste.

By midday, the storm seems to have run its course, or maybe it has simply moved offshore to drench the nearby islands of Fourni, Chios, and Samos. Eventually, the flood of water down the culvert slows to a safe negotiable flow, and the owners of the two cars up by the overpass are able to free them from the accumulated rubbish that has wedged underneath their chassis and amazingly, drive them to higher ground.

Even the car sitting perilously on the disappearing shale is pulled to a safer location.

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Image: With water still around his ankles this café owner starts the clean up process

Café and restaurant owners begin hosing the mud and debris off their forecourts, and retrieving overturned plants, tables and signage.

Visitors and locals start rehearsing their ‘tales of the flood’ stories, and blog writers rush back to their computers – grateful to have something new to write about.

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Image: Once the flood water recedes, cars are again parked in the culvert!
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Image: This village cat is clearly not happy with the situation

Image: Storm clouds dump tonnes of water on the Aegean island of Chios

Addendum: October, 19th, 210. I wrote the above piece three nights ago. Last night another storm swept through the northeast Aegean Sea with even more force than the one described above, causing even more severe damage. Where the small white car in the image above is sitting, there is now a massive trench at least three feet deep, several yards across, and even greater in length. On the nearby island of Chios, one person lost his life when he was trapped in his car in flood waters.

Since there are only the most basic of drainage systems on many islands, storm water has nowhere to go but down hills and mountains sides, gathering force, pace, and strength until it reaches the valley floors. If there is no clear route to the sea, massive damage can and does result.

Who Pays The Ferryman?

Image: Newly built and extended Evthilos harbor

There is something very reassuring about watching the arrival of the daily ferry from Piraeus. Depending on the direction of the wind, you can often hear – and even feel – the steady pulse of its motors long before it appears around the headland that obscures the ferry’s approach into Evthilos harbour (one of two ferry stops on the Aegean island of Ikaria).

This feeling of reassurance, and the sense of security the ferry engenders has to do with the dependence islanders have on this vital link to mainland Greece. Not just because it is the most efficient and cost effective way of transporting large numbers of people between Athens and Ikaria (and the other islands along its route), but also because of the other benefits the ferry brings.

Greek island ferries don’t just transport people, they carry all the daily essentials that modern societies take for granted. From fresh fruit and vegetables, to all manner of groceries; from building materials and feed for livestock to white goods and computer systems. All these and much more depend on a vast ferry system to reach their destinations on far flung islands across the Aegean, the Cyclades, Dodecanese, Saronic and Ionian islands, and other regions.

Some three dozen companies, large and small, provided thousands of ferry sailings each month. Not only are all the major Greek islands and dozens of smaller islands serviced by these companies, but some ferries will even get you as far as Venice, Italy; Port Said, Egypt; Haifa, Israel; Limassol, Cyprus; and Bodrum, Marmaris and other ports along the Turkish coast.

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Image: Loading ramp of the Blue Star Line’s Ithaki about to berth in Mykonos

The main ferry servicing Ikaria is the Nissos Mykonos, a 28 knot vessel capable of carrying 1,900 passengers and up to 418 vehicles. The seven hour journey to Evthilos also includes stops at the islands of Syros and Mykonos. From Evthilos the ferry continues around to Agios Kyrikos, the capital of Ikaria, and from there on to the island of Samos before making a night trip back to Piraeus. Travellers who like a bit of luxury on their overnight journeys can relax and sleep in one of 31 cabins provided for the purpose.

Built in Greece in 2005, the Nissos Mykonos is a far cry from the old ferries that Greece was known for 20 or 30 years ago. Owned and operated by Hellenic Seaways, this award winning vessel, like many other modern ferries provides passengers with a level of comfort, speed and regular itineraries that comes as a something of a shock to those of us who sailed on the old rust buckets that masqueraded as Greek ferries in the past. The Nissos Mykonos, even provides free WiFi for the plugged in traveler to make use of on long voyages.

Gone too, are the days when passengers and baggage had to be off-loaded from the decks of ferries into pitching rowing boats, for the final hundred yard ‘splash and dash’ to the safety of the harbor-side. Now ferries moor inside fine harbors, and reverse up against wharves which allow passengers and vehicles to pour off (and on) them quickly, efficiently, and safely.

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Image: The EKO 1 fuel transporter in Evthilos harbor. Note the No Smoking sign on superstructure

Some types of vehicles seem to be absent from the decks of the Nissos Mykonos, and presumably similar vessels. These are fuel laden trucks and trailers that clearly pose a major hazard on the pitching decks of an island bound ferry. To prevent this type of accident, small, specially designed ships visit the islands on a regular basis to off-load fuel into trucks which carry their precious (and dangerous) loads to service stations across each island.

While Ikaria is reachable via a regular ferry service, the island is also large enough – and busy enough – to have its own airport. Those visitors not wishing to spend seven or eight hours on a ferry, can fly between Athens and the island in a couple of hours or so. But for me, one of the joys of travel, is the pleasure I get from journeying on waterborne craft of any size (see previous entries: Up A Lazy River…, and Brooklyn Hidden Harbor Tour…).

One of the best online sites to begin your research on Greek ferries is Matt Barrett’s Athens Guide, where you will find a wealth of information about ferry services, and a mass of information about Athens and other parts of Greece.

Farewell, New York (for now)

Image: New York Skyline

So what is a man to do on his last night in New York City? Of all the hundreds of potential activities I could have chosen to do, I decided to go for an evening walk to Fort Tryon Park, which is just 10 minutes from the Washington Heights apartment I have called home during my New York stay.

The park is also the location of the Cloisters, that fantastic branch of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (see The Cloisters: Fort Tryon Park), and it is literally the highest natural feature on the island of Manhattan. Massive walls of schist, the bedrock underpinning all of Manhattan’s buildings, push high out of the lush landscaped gardens, and large areas of natural land formations that make up the park.

Wide paths wind their way high above the broad flowing waters of the Hudson River. It is the perfect place to promenade with your partner, set up a camera for a sunset shot, have a picnic, jog, walk the dog, play ball with your kids or friends, watch tugboats push barges up river, or simply relax and contemplate life in general, and life in one of the most exciting and vibrant cities in the world.

The ever present thrum of traffic rises up from the Henry Hudson Parkway, which follows the contours of Fort Tryon Park and further along, Inwood Hill Park. In the distance, the George Washington Bridge is silhouetted against the evening sky, its fourteen lanes channeling thousands of vehicles an hour between Manhattan and New Jersey.

…Image: The Cloisters standing tall on Manhattan schist

My stay in New York has been a real pleasure. I could have done without the heat and humidity of July and August, but since everyone else in New York had to put up with the same conditions, there was nothing for it but to head out and make the best of a less than perfect situation.

From New York I head to Greece for an extended stay of… who knows how long. It could be a month or it could be three. I hope to use Greece as a base for forays into Europe and even into Asian Minor (do they still call it that?). I have so much still to write and document about my U.S. visit, that I don’t know when I will get time to do that. My impressions will filter out over the next weeks and months, and hopefully will still be as interesting then as they were when I was experiencing them for the first time.

A friend of my cousins in Tucson, Arizona asked during my stay, what I thought of Americans and I guess by implication, America. For the record, I can honestly say, I have not had a bad experience during my three month stay, nor during my two month visit in 2008. I have not met anyone I couldn’t get along with, and in fact, I have made several new acquaintances who I hope over time will turn into good friends.

It is almost impossible to pick a favourite moment out of all the great experiences I have had during my stay. While New York tends to overwhelm the senses, the Grand Canyon overwhelms the soul and should be on everyone’s ‘bucket list’ – you know, that list of things you’ve always wanted to do before you ‘kick the bucket’!

I have still to write about my trip to Grand Canyon, but for the record let me state that two nights and a day and a half are nowhere near enough to fully soak up this true Wonder of The World. Instead of crossing the canyon off my list of places to visit, I have left it firmly in place, since I have every intention of returning for a longer, more appreciative stay.

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Image: Sunset over the Grand Canyon

Most of all though, it was the opportunity to strengthen family ties that helped make this stay extra special. I have had a chance to meet some American cousins and their children and partners (most for the first time), and those family connections have been a real joy to make. To Patris and Tom in Philadelphia; George and Jan in Raleigh, North Carolina; and to Mary and George (and George Mc) in Tucson, thank you all for your overwhelming generosity, your open arms and warm welcomes, and your delightful hospitality.

I’d especially like to thank Chris and Judy for giving me the opportunity to stay in their apartment in return for caring for their two cats and plants, collecting the mail, and providing a deterrence of sorts to potential ne’er-do-wells who could see by my presence that the apartment was being occupied and watched over.

Let’s do it again some time.

Time Travel

Note to self: When travelling by air across several time zones, never rely on your watch, cell phone, or other personal timekeeping devices to get you to your flight on time. Look for airport clocks and use them as your time keeper. That way you won’t miss your connecting flight like I did. In fact, for an entirely different reason I almost missed my rescheduled flight as well – but more of that later.

I had landed in Atlanta, Georgia en route for New York City from Tucson, Arizona. Checking my iPhone, I noted I had plenty of time before my connecting flight. Unfortunately, I had put the phone into Airplane Mode, which effectively disables it during aircraft travel. This was probably the reason the phone did not automatically adjust for the time change between Tucson and Atlanta.

So there I was, happily munching on a ham and cheese sandwich while waiting for my flight when I happened to notice an airport clock indicating the real time in Atlanta, and I immediately began to get very concerned. My plane was due to depart at 3.05PM, and the clock was showing 3.15PM! In a panic, I raced to the check-in counter, only to find Delta Airlines staff had already left and were finalizing details before my flight (which was still sitting on the tarmac at the end of the access ramp) departed for New York.

I tried unsuccessfully to get someone to help, but to no avail.

Almost fifteen minutes later – with the plane still docked to the access ramp – a staff member finally emerged from behind a security door and approached the counter. But it was too late. The flight had been secured and readied for take off, and I had officially missed my flight.

I felt like an idiot, and no-one was to blame but myself, but you can be sure that in future I will be using airport clocks to make sure I catch my flights on time. Thankfully, I was able to get another flight to New York which was due to depart two hours later than my missed flight.

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However, the story does not end there.

My new boarding pass indicated that this flight was due to depart from Gate 30 in Terminal A, one of several massive terminals that make up Atlanta International Airport.

With plenty of time to sit and eat my unfinished ham and cheese sandwiches*, I waited near the check-in counter for my flight.

Maybe I was overtired from having risen at 5.00AM to catch my plane out of Tucson. Or maybe I was simply just not paying attention. Whatever the problem was, it did not register that the staff at the Delta check-in counter where regularly announcing flight details for St Paul, Minnesota! I mean I heard the announcements, but my addled brain simply did not raise a red flag and warn me about them.

At 5.00PM, ten minutes after boarding was due to start for my flight to New York City, I heard the check-in staff announce that the flight to St Paul, Minnesota was “…now boarding”.

Finally, my brain kicked into gear and I thought; “What? St Paul, Minnesota?”

In a rising panic, I found a staff member, and asked her what was going on.

She blithely answered that my flight to New York had been rescheduled to Gate 4!

Gate 4 was right down the other end of the Terminal A passageway. In a mad rush I grabbed my backpack and pushed my way through the crush of people heading to one of the hundreds of flights that depart from Atlanta every day.

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Reaching Gate 4 did not give me any comfort at all. The electronic sign board showed this plane was departing for Cairo, Egypt!

Now folks, I am normally a very cool, calm and collected sort of guy, but this was too much. I have heard that Egypt is a great place to visit, but right then and there, I wanted to go to New York City.

To cut a long story short, the plane was going to Cairo – but it was passing through New York’s, JFK airport on the way. So with literally, 15 minutes to spare, I managed to catch my rescheduled flight, and settled into my window seat for a much needed rest and stress free flight to the Big Apple.

Of course, there was one more complicating factor to deal with. As I was departing Atlanta, my suitcase was reaching New York City. Yes, folks, I may have missed my earlier flight, but my luggage didn’t! Thankfully, the ‘system’ for dealing with lost or uncollected luggage worked exactly like it was meant to, and after a bit of running around between JFK’s Terminal 4 and Terminal 2, I was reunited with my belongings.

So there are two lessons to be learned here: keep one eye on airport clocks, and the other eye firmly fixed on airport departure boards – just in case your flight is moved from one departure gate to another.

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* Mary, thanks for those ham and cheese sandwiches. Apart from some small inflight snacks, those sandwiches were all I had time to eat throughout a long travel-weary day.

Tucson, Arizona

Image: Saguaro cactus rising high over the desert floor

If you ever hear me complaining about the occasional Adelaide heat wave again, please feel free to remind me about my stay in Tucson, Arizona, where the average summer temperatures are in the 100 plus degrees range – and not just for three or four days at a time, but often for weeks at a time. Apart from that, the heat, like South Australia’s summer heatwaves, is very dry and contains almost no humidity, which is a great relief.

I have come to Tucson to catch up with my American cousin, Maria and her husband, George, who have been living here for some 20 years.

As we left the airport at 10.00PM, just after my flight touched down from New Orleans (via Denver), my attention was immediately drawn to the giant saguaro cacti in the airport car park. These amazing plants can grow up to 50 feet in height, and can live up to 200 years.

Image: San Xavier Mission

Having introduced me to their friend (another George), my very gracious and accommodating hosts have given me a great introduction to Tucson, the surrounding mountains, and numerous National Parks in the vicinity of the city. One of the highlights was a visit to the National Historic Landmark, San Xavier Mission. The Mission was founded in 1692, although construction of the current church only began in 1783.

Only? Did I write, “only began”?

What was I thinking? The First Fleet hadn’t even set sail for Australia in 1783! By the time Captain Philip reached Sydney Cove in 1788, the building program for the San Xavier Mission was already five years old and would continue until 1797.

The oldest intact European structure in Arizona, the church’s interior is filled with the most amazing statuary and painted murals. Despite its age and designation as a historic landmark, it is still used as a working church, where Catholic Masses are held on a regular basis.

Image: One of the many amazing sculptures adorning the San Xavier Mission

Little is known about the people who decorated the interior of the church. It is thought that the artwork was most likely created by artists from Queretero in New Spain (now Mexico). The sculpture was created in workshops and carried by donkey through the Pimeria Alta to the Mission.

The San Xavier Mission is only about nine miles south of Tucson, just off of Interstate 19, and should be on every visitors list of places to see when visiting Tucson. As it is, some 200,000 visitors from all over the world come to see what is widely considered the finest example of Spanish Colonial architecture in the United States.

Surprisingly, there is no admission charge to visit the Mission, although there are donation boxes situated within the church which every visitor should contribute to.

New Orleans

Image: The paddle wheeler Natchez…

I don’t do humidity well at all, and unfortunately, every time I stepped outside of my New Orleans hotel room at the Parc Saint Charles, that is exactly what I was hit with. A wall of oppressive heat had blanketed the Crescent City, and there was no escaping it if you were going to get out and see anything, so I just had to sweat it out like everyone else and get on with it.

Clearly three nights and days were nowhere near enough to explore this amazing city, but it’s all I had time for. I took a cruise on the Natchez, which is the only true steam driven paddle wheeler still operating out of New Orleans. The two hour cruise, complete with commentary above decks, and a jazz pianist below, takes you some two miles up river to explore some of the more interesting features of the third busiest harbor in America.

Unlike New York harbor, where most merchant ships berth well away from Manhattan, a steady flow of shipping is constantly making its way through New Orleans 150 miles up the Mississippi to Baton Rouge, or some 95 miles back down the shipping lanes to the Gulf of Mexico. Ships can only navigate the river with the assistance of licensed river pilots who are in a sense the direct ‘descendents’ of the old river boat pilots, which once included the author Mark Twain.

From the deck of the Natchez, damage from Hurricane Katrina is still visible along many parts of the shoreline, despite the five years since that storm hit. However, there is little in downtown New Orleans to indicate the extent of the damage the city suffered when the levees gave way in August 2005.

The Superdome, which served as a makeshift shelter for thousands of displaced people is of course fully functional. In fact, in one of those happy serendipitous moments that can occur when you travel a lot, my visit coincided with the start of the National Football League season across North America, and I was soon caught up in the hoopla that surrounded the first game between the New Orleans Saints, and the Minnesota Vikings (for the record, the Saints won 14-9).

This gave me an opportunity to see my first major parade, complete with sports stars, marching bands, an air force flyover, brief performances by Taylor Swift and the Dave Matthews Band, and thousands of celebrating NFL fans.

… Image: Not for the fainthearted, the heat and humidity testing even the fittest…

Of course, I also went looking for some of that famous Cajun cooking New Orleans is famous for. I can definitely say the Gumbo is a real winner, with Jambalaya coming in a close second. I also lunched on a catfish Po-Boy, a large bread roll stuffed with salad and crumbed catfish (with fries on the side).

A po' boy (also po-boy, po boy, or poor boy) is a traditional submarine sandwich from Louisiana. It almost always consists of meat or seafood, usually fried, served on baguette-like Louisiana French bread.

There are countless stories as to the origin of the term po' boy. One theory claims that "po' boy" was coined in a New Orleans restaurant owned by Benny and Clovis Martin, a former streetcar conductor. In 1929, during a four-month strike against the streetcar company, Martin served his former colleagues free sandwiches. Martin’s restaurant workers jokingly referred to the strikers as "poor boys", and soon the sandwiches themselves took on the name. In Louisiana dialect, this is naturally shortened to "po' boy."

[Source: Wikipedia…]

… Image: New Orleans Po-Boy… [source: internet…]

Then there are the famous French pastries that visitors and locals rave about – and the most famous of these are the French-style doughnuts called, Beignets (pron: bin-yay). More than one person told me the best beignets in New Orleans were to be found at the Café Du Monde, and who was I to challenge that?

The original Café Du Monde Coffee Stand, at 800 Decatur Street, was established at the upper end of the New Orleans French Market in 1862. Since then it has been serving its chicory flavored café au lait and French-style beignets 24 hours a day, 7 seven days a week, except for Christmas Day and when "the occasional hurricane passes too close to New Orleans."

Beignets were brought to Louisiana by the Acadians. These were fried fritters, sometimes filled with fruit. Today, the beignet is a square piece of dough, fried and covered with powdered sugar. The French-style doughnuts are served in orders of three at Café Du Monde. [Source: Café Du Monde website…]

I can’t say I was blown away with my first beignet, but by the time I got to my third one I was warming to them in a pleasant sugar high kind of way.

I paid a visit to the Louisiana State Museum on Chartres Street, and enjoyed a look through their extensive exhibitions. Of particular interest was the exhibition Unsung Heroes: The Secret History of Louisiana Rock n Roll, which documents the contribution musicians from Louisiana have made to that genre.

I could write much more, and may return to the topic of New Orleans at a later date, but as I said at the start of this piece, three days is nowhere near enough to even get a decent feel for the city, let alone a good understanding of the people who call it home.

Streets of Philadelphia

Image: The sun sets on a Philadelphia skyline

It has been several days since I left New York City for Philadelphia. Having been here three days now, I thought it time to give you my initial impressions of this, the first ‘modern’ city in the New World. To my delight, the Comfort Inn Hotel is perfectly placed to explore the section of Philadelphia known as Old City, where some of the most interesting surviving areas of the Colonial era are located.

For instance, the area around the National Constitution Center has many historical buildings worth checking out including, Independence Hall and Congress Hall where many of the great debates relating to the Declaration of Independence raged. Here you will also find the Liberty Bell, one of the most important icons of American independence, the exceptional National Constitution Center, Christ Church where many of America’s founding father’s prayed and where seven signatories to the Declaration of Independence are buried including Benjamin Franklin, whose final resting place (which he shares with wife Deborah) is marked only by a large weather beaten stone slab.

… Image: The final resting place of Benjamin Franklin and wife, Deborah

On my first walk I visited the U.S. Mint, where most of the nation’s coins are minted. A self-guided tour steers you along three floors of exhibits, artefacts and historical information outlining the history of the production of money in the United States. At various points along the tour you are able to look down onto the floor of the building where massive machines and presses produce millions of dollars worth of coins each week.

Personally, I was disappointed visitors didn’t get free samples of freshly minted new gold dollar coins. I’m mean, really, is that too much to ask?

I walked down Elfreth’s Alley, a narrow alleyway filled with homes dating from the 1750s and 1760s. All the homes, bar one, are still being rented and lived in by locals. The one exception has been turned into a museum filled with artefacts from the colonial era.

… Image: Elfreth’s Alley

I lined up with many other visitors to see the Liberty Bell, which despite several attempts at repair, continued to fracture to the point where any ongoing attempts to plug the crack where finally abandoned in case the break continued to worsen.

To cap off an interesting afternoon, I was even able to observe a demonstration protesting against some of the new anti-immigration laws being enacted by Washington and other U.S. states. It would seem that under U.S. law, any child born in the United States is automatically classed as an American citizen. Unfortunately, giving birth to a child does not automatically bestow citizenship on the child’s parents. This has led to situations where a child’s mother or father has been deported back to their land of birth, leaving the child without at least one parental figure. Deportation may happen for a variety of reasons, including being convicted of a criminal offence.

This demonstration took place, appropriately enough on the lawns of the National Constitution Center where a large granite block clearly proclaims the words of the First Amendment which guarantees the right to free speech (see image below).

… Image: The First Amendment cast in stone…

I was very impressed with the honesty with which many displays regarding this period of American history have addressed the issue of slavery. For example, at the site where remnants of George Washington’s first Presidential home once stood, and which is now being turned into a new exhibit, display boards feature information about nine of Washington’s own slaves, and discuss at length his attempts to arrange for the recapture and return of one female slave in particular called Ona (or Oney) Judge.

As a teenager, Ona Judge became the personal maid to Washington’s wife, Martha. Ona was described as a talented seamstress, who despite her (presumably) privileged position “…seized her freedom and escaped to New Hampshire…”

The description continues: “…Washington tried relentlessly to recapture her. He discovered where she had gone when a friend of Martha Washington’s granddaughter happened to encounter Ona in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Washington wrote to the Collector of Customs in Portsmouth and requested that he apprehend Ona and send her back.”

After speaking with Ona, the official declined to do so.

Two years later, Washington asked his nephew Burwell Bassett to seize Ona and her child, born since her escape. Bassett confided his intentions to John Langdon, the Governor of New Hampshire, and Langdon sent a warning to Ona which enabled her to again escape recapture.

One can only speculate regarding George Washington’s obsession with recapturing Ona Judge. Was it because she was so close to Martha Washington? Did he pursue her at Martha’s insistence? We may never know. However, the description that “…Washington tried relentlessly to recapture her,” does not reflect well on the nation’s first President.

… Image: Telling it like it is. ‘Honest’ George Washington not quite the picture of perfection we were led to believe he was

This openness and honesty continues at the National Constitution Center where state of the art displays again trace the difficult ‘birth of a nation’, while addressing issues of race, slavery, immigration, numerous wars, and other vital matters of state.

For me, each building, display, and exhibition space has been like putting together parts of a giant jigsaw puzzle that for many years has symbolised the United States of America. The more I read and learn, the greater the level of understanding I am able to get about the land and its people.

Central Park: Six of The Best

As my time in New York winds down, I don’t have time for extended blog entries – I’m too intent on trying to pack as much into my last few days as possible. However, this blog nags at me and insists on the occasional update – no matter how occasional. So I’ve hit on the idea of a quick way to fill some space and still make entries of interest – hence, Six of The Best. Photographs, that is. Today, I’ve chosen six images taken on my rambles through Central Park.

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Image: Root Canal Treatment
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Image: Hans Christian Anderson statue
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Image: Would you like to dance? Two nuns watch as couples dance the Tango
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Image: Bethesda Fountain silhouette
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Image: Model Boat Pond
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Image: Bethesda Terrace ornamentation
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Image: Bethesda Terrace ornamentation detail
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Yes, yes, I know that's seven images, and not six. That's just the marketer in me trying to live up to the old marketing truism: Always deliver more than you promise.

Iris DeMent

~ One of things I made sure I did when planning this trip to New York was look for concerts that might coincide with my stay. To my delight, I’ve managed to see three of my favourite performers while I’ve been here: Steve Forbert, Pete Seeger (see Pete Seeger - Living Legend), and Iris DeMent.

I can't remember where or when I first heard the voice of the American singer songwriter, Iris DeMent, but when I did, I was immediately captivated by the high plaintive sound of her voice. You see, I have a 'thing' about singers with high plaintive voices. Antony Hegarty (Antony and The Johnsons), Salif Keita, and several others have a way of piercing my psyche with their voices and music that I can't rationally explain.

Iris DeMent is one such singer. Iris (the youngest of 14 children), grew up singing gospel songs at home and at the Pentecostal church her family attended . She didn't start writing and performing her own songs until she was 25, and released her first recording in her early 30s.

Today, she is generally categorized as a country singer, but her songs and stories transcend that label. Her song writing covers a wide range of topics including sexual abuse (Letter to Mom), Vietnam (There's a Wall in Washington), contemporary US politics (Wasteland of The Free), her family (numerous songs), and much more. Always honest, thoughtful and filled with insight, her songs are built around great melodies delivered in her trademark 'high lonesome' voice.

This was my second Iris DeMent concert. My first coincided with my New York visit in 2008. To see Iris on that trip I had to travel upstate to Lake Placid where she was performing at the local arts center. I must admit I was a little disappointed with that concert. Maybe it was the venue or the quality of the sound system. Maybe it was because I was too far back from the stage. Or maybe my excitement at seeing Iris for the first time raised my expectations for the performance to a point where Iris couldn’t possible meet them.

Thankfully, there were no such problems with the venue, Iris, or my own expectations at the B.B.King Blues Club & Grill last night where Iris was in fine form, and took time to introduce her songs and tell the stories behind many of them. Her songs are rooted in her past, in the daily life she lives today on the farm she shares with her husband and children in rural Iowa, and they are especially entrenched in her strong religious faith.

Her singing voice is filled with emotion, and every time I hear her sing I find myself deeply moved by that emotion and the feelings she evokes. I’m sure that more than one person was literally moved to tears during the 90 minute performance last night, and that is a rare and precious thing in today’s contemporary music scene.

Take another look at the photo above, and check out the other photographs on her website. She may appear somewhat plain and ordinary, but Iris is not selling youth or false images of beauty. Iris DeMent is the real deal. Her songs and her voice have the ability to move me in ways that most contemporary performers will never do. There are some full sound files on her website you can listen to, but personally, I recommend you just go out and buy (or order online) any -- or all -- of her four albums.

Happily there are numerous video clips of Iris DeMent on YouTube. Some feature her performing solo, but many show her singing with a host of other singer songwriters including James Taylor, Emmylou Harris, Nanci Griffith and John Prine. Here she is performing probably her best known song, Our Town on an unnamed television show. Hopefully, the uninitiated will get a sense of Iris DeMent's beautiful voice and fine songwriting style. Enjoy...

By the way, you may find you already have Iris DeMent in your record collection since she has appeared as a guest on many albums by some of the best contemporary singer songwriters recording today, including Tom Russell and the afore mentioned Emmylou Harris, Nanci Griffith, and again John Prine. Here she is sharing the stage with John Prine performing In Spite of Ourselves…

A special shout out to Pat and Neil who shared a table with me throughout the evening. It was lovely to be able to chat before the show over our meals and share something about ourselves and what it was that brought us together at an Iris DeMent concert in New York City. Cheers.