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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), Mรฉxico (2018), Taiwan, Balkans, Baltics, Turkey, Costa Rica, Nicaragua. Vi fรฅr se.  "Where I have traveled, stayed and visited. Over 181 places."     |
| A1 Buda and Pest ๐ญ๐บ Hungary's defined by plains of horsemen, and Buda and Pest, squeezing the Danube between them, one a majestic city on hills created for the powerful, the other by workers who built them both: imperial grandeur looming over centuries of inequity. A2 The path of sweets. ๐ต๐น I wonder as I wander. Sweet or savory pastries? Lisbon offers both along black-and-white cobbled streets. Portuguese brought bread to Asia and left their word 'pรฃo' behind. I chose 'pasteis de nata' that grace pastry cases of Taiwan and Thailand. A3 Awe in ร i Lofoten ๐ณ๐ด The road from the ferry in Moskenes ends ร . That's clear. So clear that Fata Morgana herself lures one to non-existent distant shores. Not all one sees is reality. The clarity and non-polluted breeze invites one to linger and ponder this. A4 Loggia dei Lanzi (Firenze) ๐ฎ๐น Does pain teach us to avoid the dangers and unpleasantries of life? Without it could Giambologna have sculpted "The Rape of the Sabine Women". Yet, across the square, "David", belittled for his small penis, gazes at women screaming with pain. A5 Grenada ๐ณ๐ฎ Grenada would be the prettiest city in Costa Rica if it didn't hug the shores of Lake Nicaragua. Colonial beauty, horse buggies and bugs at twilight. Streets where doors open up to courtyards beckoning us to rest awhile or stay. A6 There ๐บ๐ธ Yes... I grew up "there" when it was a great place to live; but, the failure of that factory town, unable to be flexible in a time of change, made it impossible to thrive. I survived. I'll never go back. A7 Bless your heart ๐ง๐ช If I ever tell you a place is 'nice', go somewhere else. If I say "bless your heart"... run. Bruges is 'nice', in its own fake way, unless you know the place. I didn't stay long enough to find out. A8 White Town ๐ท๐ธ Beograd's tough. This nitty gritty s***ty dirty city with a zoo of albino animals surrounds a fortress guarding the Sava and the Dunav. History fought here; but, I loved the people, their insanity, the food, even its bombed out ruins. A9 Comiche ๐ซ๐ท Paris attracts garbage, tourists, and pick-pockets. I took photos of garbage in the canal, toured Versailles with tourists, but didn't see any pick-pockets. A young man, immigrant?, gifted this famished old man two pears. I was grateful. I was charmed. A10 No smiles ๐ช๐ช / ๐ท๐บ Why go to a place where people can't smile? The twin towers of Narva and Ivangorod stare at each other across a scrawny river an arrow could cross. War drums plan and wait for the worst. I don't tarry long. A11 Red white and grey all over ๐ต๐ช The bus broke down near Abancay in the middle of nowhere. I missed my appointment and was stranded in Lima. Ay-ay-ay-ay, Peru, I reckon I could've learned to love your red and white flag, the grey dust that covered everything. A12 On The Way To ล iauliai ๐ฑ๐ป / ๐ฑ๐น I feel like I've been here many times before I arrive in ล iauliai. I've driven through golden fields, as flat as a pancake, ripening with promise. So similar to the Kansas of my youth, golden hair blowing in the breeze. A13 Lost in Luang Prabang ๐ฑ๐ฆ A classic Citroรซn sat in front of the historical wat proud of its maroon paint job ready to be waxed, eager to whisk us away to when the French colonized Lan Xang and baked baguettes, a place lost in time. A14 April in Luxembourg ๐ฑ๐บ I saw beauty wrapped in wads of money, tasted potatoes fried into fritters (Gromperekichelcher), and inhaled April festooned with cherry blossoms. Unfortunately, the stone from which it's carved, upon which it stands, isn't as hard as the over-worked worn-out people. A15 Disculpe ๐จ๐ท In Costa Rica take the freedom to "do as you want". Lie if you must, but always smile. If you happen to hurt someone's feelings, or run over their dog, remember that "disculpe" means "I'm sorry." That should fix it. As always.. which did you like best... and why.  |
| The bus broke down near Abancay in the middle of nowhere. I missed my appointment and was stranded in Lima. Ay-ay-ay-ay, Peru, I reckon I could've learned to love your red and white flag, the grey dust that covered everything. |
| Why go to a place where people can't smile? The twin towers of Narva and Ivangorod stare at each other across a scrawny river an arrow could cross. War drums plan and wait for the worst. I don't tarry long. |
| Paris attracts garbage, tourists, and pick-pockets. I took photos of garbage in the canal, toured Versailles with tourists, but didn't see any pick-pockets. A young man, immigrant?, gifted this famished old man two pears. I was grateful. I was charmed. |
| Beograd's tough. This nitty gritty s***ty dirty city with a zoo of albino animals surrounds a fortress guarding the Sava and the Dunav. History fought here; but, I loved the people, their insanity, the food, even its bombed out ruins. |
| If I ever tell you a place is 'nice', go somewhere else. If I say "bless your heart"... run. Bruges is 'nice', in its own fake way, unless you know the place. I didn't stay long enough to find out. |
| Yes... I grew up "there" when it was a great place to live; but, the failure of that factory town, unable to be flexible in a time of change, made it impossible to thrive. I survived. I'll never go back. |
| Grenada would be the prettiest city in Costa Rica if it didn't hug the shores of Lake Nicaragua. Colonial beauty, horse buggies and bugs at twilight. Streets where doors open up to courtyards beckoning us to rest awhile or stay. |
| Does pain teach us to avoid the dangers and unpleasantries of life? Without it could Giambologna have sculpted "The Rape of the Sabine Women". Yet, across the square, "David", belittled for his small penis, gazes at women screaming with pain. |
| The road from the ferry in Moskenes ends ร
. That's clear. So clear that Fata Morgana herself lures one to non-existent distant shores. Not all one sees is reality. The clarity and non-polluted breeze invites one to linger and ponder this. |
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