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 |   ON THE WRITE PATH: travel journal for Around-the-World in 2015, 16, 18. |
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For there are many paths.  A tlog. A travel blog. A keeping-track of my trials, er.. travels. February 26, 2015 until ... June 18,2015. January 12, 2016 until February 15, 2016. November 13 to 30 2018 ... 2019, 2020: Taiwain. I went nowhere in 2021. 2022: Portugal, Thailand. Will include: Hawai'i, Japan, Australia, South Africa, Untied Arab Emirates, Portugal, Norway, Ireland and... (2015) ... Norway and Estonia (2016), México (2018), Taiwan, Balkans, Baltics, Turkey, Costa Rica, Nicaragua. Vi får se.  "Where I have traveled, stayed and visited. Over 181 places."     |
| For: "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" If you won a free trip to any foreign country, all expenses paid in your own private jet and had the time to go (and there were no travel restrictions due to a global pandemic *Pthb*), what is the first foreign country you would visit? Who would you bring with you? What would you spend your time doing? Mars ... by myself I post an appropriate story I wrote. Hand-in-hand They walked hand-in-hand down the red dirt path, around the circle of green scum covering the pond they had dug. Michele spoke about the last time she had tossed back a Guinness as Miguela closed her eyes and inhaled, hoping to recall the fragrance of a deep red wine. The air was dry and still. —I remember the old men making dough, guarding their recipes as if their life depended on it. —I'm sure their livelihood did. —No—their life. "Pizzo paid by pizza" my father always cackled. Miguela pulled a comb thru her snarled wires. Michele just winked and tossed her long black locks. —Want to stop for tea and scones? Her eyes crinkled. —Only if you remembered the garlic and extra oregano. Miguela laughed. She loved laughter, eyes twinkling more than those stars looking down at them thru the black sky. Her homeland rocked to a volcanic beat, she'd always snicker. Michele would just smile, pretending they were walking the Giant's Causeway every time they wandered out to the pond's dock. It was afternoon. They needed no clock; they just knew. The movement of the small blue starlet and big yellow star informed them. Back home, one wall showed a scene of a distant Emerald Isle, the other white stones and blue shutters baking in the heat. Michele served tea and they both sat quietly. Time passed. Michele grabbed her bodhrán and Miguela started to sing. They wove a melody and beat that no one could hear. It was the year... 87... and the denizens of the cemetery were stone deaf, each grave hand dug, the most recent mouldering now for 50 years. Mars was a lonely place for a party of one. Calmed, Miguela quietly stowed her stiletto. Michele knowingly smiled... lost in thoughts of all the worlds she had once visited. She looked up. Beyond the empty sky she could see... Forever. © Kåre Enga [14.March.2017] Originally written in 15 minutes and posted in "Hand-in-hand" |
 João: Lagos. The beaches. The water. The sun glistening off the water. All the shiny things. Me: Yes, you'll like it there. João: What's there to do? Me: Relax! João: No, really. Me: There's a small science museum, a small church museum, the ruins of the greatest school of navigation. João: Anything shiny? Me: A 3 cent silver coin from the United States displayed in the church. And no, you can't have it. João: You know me. [laughs] Me: Yes, I do. [laughs] Ask Filipa where to go and what to do. She's looking forward to meeting you. Pack a hat, some shorts and something red. João: I always do. Me: You'll need to eat. Try the grilled sardines or octopus salad. Don't forget to try a frango and there's pastries everywhere. João: Are they sweet? Me: Very sweet, but not as sweet as you! [laughs] Some are savory. João: I can be that too. [smirks] Me: Be nice. João: I'm always nice. Me: And be nice to yourself. Lagos is a place stamped with history. Let 600 years of the Age of Discovery wash over you as you stretch out on the beach. Then go for a swim. And don't forget to take a boat ride to see the caves. Sea-kayaking is an option too. Plenty enough to do. João: Party? Me: All the small cafes. João: And Portimão? Me: Don't bother. You'd be better off in England, plus Filipa would give you hell! Better to relax in Lagos. It's more than nice for anyone ... especially for you. For:
Prompt: Write about the last time you did something nice for yourself. Every trip I make. Portugal was supposed to be this past April. The ice cream I bought yesterday does not make up for it. Here, João from "Os vampiros não vivem em Évora" joins me. |
| Gallo pinto Beyond the fear there was the gallo pinto1 and down the hill a house for sale where once he'd dwelt and walking futher back in time he found a young boy quivering but did not linger in the fog and fragrant treacheries and turned around to trudge back up the trail he'd laid, giving thanks for rice and beans still steaming. © Kåre Enga [177.124] (7.juli.2020) 6 lines Prompt: Write about a journey - you can interpret this however you wish. Note: I returned to Costa Rica in 2009 after being gone 35 years. For:
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