Anticipation!

I leave next week for Greece!  This trip has been planned for over a year and now it is only a few days away.  How time flies!  This is my retirement gift to myself - a little long in coming as I retired three years ago.  But I've been saving for and anticipating it for a long time.  I've never been to Greece so I will be a true tourist there.  I say that because when I travel in France, I no longer feel like a tourist as it is my second home.  I feel pretty much at home in Italy as well although my Italian needs a little "vino locale" in order to start flowing freely!   But Greece!  The home of western civilization.  The home of the gods of legend and myth.  (The Romans loved the Greek gods so much that they stole them and gave them Latin names.)  I've been reading as much as I can about the places we'll visit: Olympia, the site of the original Greek games;  Santorini, the island famous for those beautiful blue domed roofs; Mykonos, the island of beaches and parties; Athens, the capital of democracy, of learning, of now faded decadence and power, the Parthenon.  Seven days of our two week trip is a cruise which originates in Venice - one of my most favorite cities in Europe.  Our first stop will be in Bari, at the heel of Italy - the home of Saint Nicolas they tell me.  And the last stop before returning to Venice will be Dubrovnik, Croatia - an ancient walled city on the Adriatic coast.  Except for Venice, this will all be new to me.  And I can't wait!!  I love travel.  I love learning new things about new places because it helps me learn new things about myself.  My son has told me many times that the travels he has done since he was 4 and I took him to Mexico (his first time out of the country) have helped him see the world in a different way than most of his friends and acquaintances.  Perhaps with more tolerance and understanding.  And he is extremely grateful for all of those experiences that have enriched his life.  I know exactly what he means.  It's something we talk about often.  The love of travel is such a part of who I am.  I mentioned in an earlier post that my dad's favorite phrase was: "It's just around the next bend!"  So here I go again, around the next bend, not really knowing what's there, but anticipating every turn in the path as I find out. I won't be posting again until I get back the week of October 24.  And then I'll have a wealth of new experiences to share with you.  Enjoy the new season while I'm gone.  A bientôt!   

A Spiritual Experience

In my creative writing class I'm doing an essay on "spirituality".  As I was thinking of what it means to me to be spiritual and was searching my memories of spiritual experiences in my life I realized that my first "recognized" spiritual experience happened in 1973 in France when I lived in the northern city of Reims during my junior year in college.  I expressed in my essay that I believe our idea of spirituality changes with our life experiences - or maybe "expands" would be a better way to say it.  Defining spirituality is a personal thing.  How can I tell you whether  or not you've had a spiritual experience?  And does one have to be religious to have a spiritual experience?  How would you define spirituality? (Or religion, for that matter?)  While I was thinking about all of these things to write the essay I recounted the following experience.  My first recognized spiritual experience happened during the semester that I spent in France during my junior year in college.  I lived with a family in an apartment in the northern city of Reims.  This city is the site of the largest of the gothic cathedrals in France.  It’s ornate beauty is unsurpassed.  While I am not Catholic (and that’s probably why I was worried about sharing this experience with anyone at home), I never passed up the opportunity to enter this imposing edifice.  Every time I walked to town, I would go up the steps where millions of feet had made indentations in the stone slabs, looking up at the smiling face on the archangel, as I opened the small wooden door which had been cut into one of the giant double doors on the front of the cathedral.  I remember feeling so small.  The statues were twice as tall as I am.  Once inside I would sit in the back row.  I was usually the only person in there in this huge vaulted room of stone and glass.  I can still remember how the sunshine filtered through the stained glass windows and fell in patterns on the golden stone floor.  If I was lucky, I would hear the priests practicing their chants for mass somewhere in a back room - or the organist practicing his hymns.  The music would resonate off the stone walls and columns and I could feel the vibrations start in my feet and work their way up into my heart. Always I would see the old lady sweeping the floor and wonder how many years she had done that.  Did she think of it as just a job?  Did she realize how lucky she was to spend part of her day in this building that was over 800 years old, she now being a part of its history? As I mentioned already, I’m not Catholic, but it’s hard not to have a visceral reaction when I enter a gothic cathedral anywhere in Europe.  Such faith to build a structure of this magnitude long before there was any kind of technology to plan or construct it.  Everything was done by the hand of  now unknown craftsmen or artists.  There is such wonderful beauty in these churches that have outlived numerous generations.  I love spending time in them and letting the visual Bible soak into my mind and heart. So now, years later, having spent a lot of time in ancient cathedrals and churches around Europe,  I can look back on that first time I was in France and realize why I was so enthralled with that experience and I can label it as a “spiritual experience.”  I have not been back to that city since and it is on my list of places to visit soon.  I hope that my heart, with that “pressed memory”, will remember how special that first time was.  Want to share a spiritual experience?  I'd love to hear about it.  A bientôt!

How I spend my arrival day in a new city

After numerous trips to Europe over the past 30 years, I've come up with ideas for what to do when you first arrive in a foreign city - anywhere - and are trying to survive on jetlag!  Here's what works for me.  Use some common sense on the airplane.  Drink lots of water or juice.  This will keep you hydrated which is really important.  Caffeinated drinks will dehydrate you and keep you "buzzed".  If you can't sleep (like me!) then at least do something relaxing like listening to music.  Try not to keep your brain active the entire flight by watching videos or playing games.  Remember you're losing a lot of hours on the flight that you will not make up for.  So be kind to yourself so you're not a complete zombie once you land in your new, exciting city!  If it's too early to check into your hotel you can ask the hotel desk where you might be able to store your bags until check-in time.  They always have a room or closet where you can leave your things.  Then take a walk around the neighborhood.  Look for the closest ATM.  BTW, your debit card is the best idea ever for getting cash anywhere in the world (just be sure to let your bank know you'll be out of the country otherwise you risk having your account frozen when they see foreign transactions).  Find the closest market/grocer.  This is actually a fun place to visit.  Other countries' versions of the neighborhood market are very different from ours.  Find some cookies or candies that look different and interesting - or buy some local cherries or strawberries - yummmmm!  See if there's a pharmacy nearby.  You never know when you might have an allergy flareup or trouble sleeping or need bandaids, sunscreen, antacids, etc.  Grocery stores don't sell these things in Europe.  Maybe there's a little cafe where you can grab a coffee or soft drink.  Sit outside and watch the world go by in your new neighborhood.  If there's an attraction close by you might want to enjoy that, but a quick note here - it will be hard to enjoy if you're really dragging from jetlag - save it for later.  Familiarize yourself with the currency if you haven't already done that - and with the public transportation system.  If you're going to be in a city for longer than a couple of days it may be advantageous to buy a metro/bus pass and a museum pass.  In Paris these will save you, not only money, but time!  You won't have to stand in lines!  Once I get checked into the hotel I usually take a shower first thing.  After sitting on a plane for 10-12 hours and wearing the same clothes for over 24 hours a shower is a welcome refresher.  I'm not a napper, but I know some people benefit from a short nap.  SHORT!  You want your body to get accustomed to the new time zone as quickly as possible and this won't happen if you sleep through the first day.  Eat meals at the time they are eaten in your new city.  I like to eat an early dinner and then try to get a decent nights sleep that first night.  And be sure to set your alarm clock or have a wake-up call ordered or maybe both!  I can't tell you how many times I've slept through my alarm that next morning as my body is rebelling against waking up at an unusual time.  The first 2 days for me are the hardest but then once I get into the pattern of things I'm fine.  I hope you'll share what helps you get over jetlag and how you like to spend your "landing day" in your new city.  A bientôt!

On Traveling

My dad had a phrase he'd use a lot when we were traveling or camping, especially when he wasn't sure exactly where we were.  He'd say, "It's just around the next bend."  When I was little I didn't realize the significance of those words.  I'm not sure he did.  It became a little joke between us.  But now, after years and years of traveling (I must have picked up the travel "bug" from my dad!), those five words are the reason why I love to travel.  I don't understand people who say they don't want or don't like to travel, or those who say they would never travel outside the US.  I wonder what they're afraid of.  Are they fearful of what's around the next bend?  I suppose for some, it is scary - the "not knowing".  For me, it's exactly why I love to travel!  I've learned so much about myself from being in a new place.  It forces me to stretch beyond my idea of who I am.  Every new place and adventure adds to the person of "Candy".  I've never been one of those people content to simply read about life.  Oh, I do love to read!  It's the cheapest form of travel.  I learned that when I was a child.  You can be anyone, anywhere, in any time period when you read a book.  As an extremely visual person, I have a "movie" going in my head when I read.  I much prefer reading out loud as I love the sounds of the words and the pictures that they paint on the canvas of my imagination.  But, if I can have the real thing - the actual experience of being in a different place - then I feel that I'm the luckiest person on earth.  I have "lived" with the Neanderthals in the south of France, with the Romans in Italy and France, with Richard the Lionheart as he conquered towns during the middle ages, with Michelangelo as he painted the Sistine Chapel, with Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette as they lived the life of luxury and then were executed by the people they loved, with the Mayans in their temples to the rain god.  Oh, I could go on and on.  And yes, I could read about all of them, but it isn't the same as walking where they walked and feeling their spirits become part of my life.  That's what I mean about stretching who I am.  And so I thank my daddy every time I travel and feel his spirit of adventure in me.  To all of you travelers (in life, if no where else!) I say to embrace the idea that we don't have all the answers and we don't know what will happen next. Seeing things from a new and different perspective is, not only healthy mentally and emotionally, but will change how you view yourself and the world.   So take the challenge to go down that path - either treading lightly or running full steam ahead - to see what's around the next bend.   A bientôt!

Paris Day 1 Part 2

After your visit to Notre Dame you may want to have a soda or ice cream.  There's a little cafe on the street to the left of the cathedral.  If you're lucky you might find an outside table.  Now, walk back towards the metro stop.  As you walk through the flower market you will look straight ahead and see, past the large square, a huge imposing building.  This is the Palace of Justice - the modern one, not the medieval one which was known for it's torture chambers!  If you're ready for lunch, there's a typical French cafe (not a touristy one) on the corner just in front of the Palace.  Order an omelet and fries or my favorite sandwich, a croque-monsieur (a French version of grilled ham and cheese!  yum!).  Ask for a "carafe d'eau" for a pitcher of water or a "carafe de vin" for a pitcher of wine.  After lunch, head across the street to see the most beautiful stained glass in the world in the tiny Sainte Chapelle.  This little church is inside the courtyard of the Palace of Justice so you'll have to stand in line.  If you have a museum pass (highly recommended!) then you can usually show it to the guards and they'll move you ahead. Make sure you go upstairs.  The entire story of the Bible is told in stained glass panels that surround the second floor!  There are laminated guides that will help you "translate" the panels.  Enjoy!  My suggestion for the rest of the afternoon is to spend it at the Louvre.  It's a short and lovely walk from the Ile de la Cite.  You will have to go through the security line, but once inside your museum pass will take you wherever you want to go.  I highly suggest Rick Steve's 3 hour walking tour of the museum.  He hits all the highlights and gives you some wonderful insight and info.  Remember that you're walking inside what was the palace of the kings of France from the 1300s up to the Revolution in 1789.  The building itself is a work of art not to mention the collection on the walls and on the floors. My own favorite story about the Louvre is this:  In 1939 when the French knew that the German's were headed to Paris, they organized the largest art movement in history.  Every piece of art within the miles of halls was removed and hidden in the countryside.  When the Nazi's arrived and opened the doors of the Louvre they found empty frames and missing statues.  Even more amazing to me is that when the war ended in 1945, every piece of hidden art made its way back to the museum.  It gives me goosebumps every time I think about this.  In my next post I'll talk about what to do your first night in Paris.  A bientôt!