Quiet moments

Some things are too special to commit to blog posts, but I know that I'll never forget them.  The day that ended talking with a woman I admire more than I can say while we watched the sun set was one of those treasures.

Thank you Kathy. I'm posting this two months late, but I remain blessed, still.  

Kind of a Hogwarts moment

Some of my very favourite travel memories are brought about by surprise. Several years ago, we discovered the Needle's Eye, and it was a fantastic adventure that would not--could not--have had the same effect on me if we had planned it ahead of time.

The Boston Tea Party Museum was another such surprise.

I have to be honest here--I'm a bit cheap when it comes to admission prices for things, and at $27 a person, it is unlikely that I would have chosen to go in.  Oh, I get that it's hard to keep museums and special attractions afloat without a source of income, but while I want to support such ventures, it's hard to swallow a $60 expense for the privilege of walking in the door.  So often it just isn't worth it.

There were three of us however, and we had just enough time to go to the museum before we had to check out of the hotel.  It won by virtue of being close, I think. And it was terrific.

The tour guides were all in period costume and took on personalities of the day.  They were knowledgeable and fun, and very good at inciting us to riot.  We were given feathers for our caps--a sign that we were revolutionaries, after all, and character cards so we'd know who we were representing.  After agreeing to take part in the revolution, to never drink British tea again and to show our support to never buy British products again,  we went down to the boat, and there the guys really got into throwing the tea overboard.

After they exerted their muscles, we were all guided into another part of the museum where there was a holographic movie, more opinions from the people.  There was another display after that, where we all listened to the great granddaughter of someone who happened to save the very very last tea box from the big day.  Okay, this part was a little silly actually, for the tea box was given such reverence--a rotating stand with special lighting, a voice over to hear about the box.

After that though, we turned around to see the portrait gallery, and this by far, was my favourite moment.  Framed like the other portraits, but not at all the same, the King of England and Sam Adams (the guy, not the beer) started debating the issues.  The portraits came alive a la Hogwarts, and it was so well done.  Following that was a movie about Paul Revere's ride.  I was so glad to see that the King and Sam Adams hadn't actually changed into other actors.  Somehow, that would have ruined it for me.

It was the last adventure, but it was great.  Go see it.

Freedom Trail

In Boston, we stayed in the Financial District because we had such a short time in the city, and we wanted to walk the Freedom Trail.  Our hotel was just a few blocks away, but we ended up taking a cab to the beginning of it.  To start out, we had a fantastic lunch at Legal Seafood. Of course, I had to have Boston clam chowder and it was great,  but my goodness, what a rich dish.

We went to the beginning of the trail, and started to follow the red (mostly) brick trail through the city.  I especially enjoyed looking at the gravestones in the Granary Burying Ground, which was established in the 1600s.  This is where John Hancock, Samuel Adams and Paul Revere are buried.  There are pebbles and pennies on Paul Revere's headstone.  The pebbles are a tradition that shows someone was there to remember the person buried, and I may adopt that.  On Paul Revere's grave though, there are also pennies, a tribute to his contribution to the copper industry.

We saw the site of the Boston Massacre, at the Old State House.  At the bookstore, I needed to find out more about this incident, which was a foreshadowing of the American Revolution.  The British apparently call this "Incident on King Street".  Even the respective names highlight the issues at that time.  Essentially, five people were killed, six were injured, and two British soldiers were convicted of manslaughter with reduced sentences of branding on their hands. There may not have been enough to go around, but if there was, it wasn't about to be shared.

I would like to return to Faneuil Hall and the nearby Quincy Market.  We weren't hungry after our lunch so we didn't linger amongst all the food stalls, and Faneuil Hall was stifling hot, but there was a lot of things to see at this shopping district.  Outside, street dancers had gathered quite a crowd.

The North End is a fantastic neighbourhood and if when I return, I would very much like to explore it more.  The streets are old and unstable crooked beasts, but they are enveloped by scents of garlic and tomatoes from the Italian restaurants that all seem to have won awards.  Some restaurants had lineups down the block.  We had been watching people carrying white and blue boxes from Mike's Pastry, so when we saw it, I wanted to see what made them so popular.   Mike's sells cannolis in all kinds of flavours, but they also have crazy lineups of people waiting to get their own box.  We tried them, and I thought they were pretty good, but I wish that we had shared them instead.  I think that cannolis appeal to the cheesecake club...I'm not a member.  Still, I'm glad I tried them, and I probably would go back.

Another highlight was seeing the Old North Church.  This church is home to the steeple where Paul Revere's signal of two lanterns indicated that the British were arriving by water.  It sparked the American revolution.

I'd wanted to visit Boston for many years, and it didn't disappoint.   I'd like to go back sometime, as there is much more to explore.  It's a smallish city with a big personality.   It wouldn't be hard to people watch on the Rose Kennedy Greenway for hours on end.   Boston was bittersweet though.  I love our yearly trip together, and it's always a bit sad when it ends.  Boston marked the last stop for 2012.

There once was a girl in Nantucket...

Our adventure to Nantucket began with a drive to Hyannis Port where, I'm proud to say, I learned how to eat a raw oyster.  I now know that the problem I had the first time was not because the oyster was raw, but because it hadn't been fully detached.  No wonder I choked!  Not this time though.  The lovely waitress at The Naked Oyster made sure that I had a lovely experience if I was brave enough to try it again.  Oh, it was fresh and wonderful.  Although I tried twice more on our trip, they failed to measure up to this burst of sweet and salty brilliance.  The bar has been set.

After lunch, we caught the fast ferry to the island of Nantucket.  I've never been good at limericks, but I do remember that they often highlighted Nantucket and not usually in the best of ways.  Such a shame for Nantucket is a delightful place and we didn't have nearly enough time.  Steeped in history, there are several different kinds of cobblestone on the streets. I would have liked the time to figure out which streets are oldest.

Nantucket was a blend of ocean air, hydrangeas and hibiscus.   It is both romantic and touristy.   I think that I would enjoy it tremendously if we had more time to explore on shoulder season.   There is much to see, lots of little shops to explore, and fortunately for us, Sweet Inspirations.  The chocolate covered cranberries are wonderful, but better still are the salted caramels. I'm a sucker for artisan chocolate and the bulk of our  Nantucket dollars were spent here.

Nantucket...you'll see us again when we can spend more time getting acquainted.

Lessons from the Labyrinths

We rented a yurt at the  Harmony Hill Retreat Centre.   The Retreat is far away from pretty much anything.  As a nice relaxing place to unwind it was perfect, particularly after our close encounter with the creatures. 

I have a dear friend who is fond of labyrinths.  I had never walked one before, and I was quite interested.  I always thought that a labyrinth and a maze were the same thing, but as I learned on a walk through a maze later in the trip, they are not.  My friend equated the walking of a labyrinth with prayer.  It is one long continuous path towards a focal point at the centre, whereas a maze has several false turns and stops that force one to backtrack often.  On this trip, we found two to walk. 

The labyrinth at  Heritage Museums and Gardens (where, by the way, we saw a fascinating exhibit of Norman Rockwell's work) is a 7-circuit design, and wound around trees in the garden.  This design is very calming, and it is possible to walk it without needing to pay attention.   It goes in a long continuous circle, although it is designed like two intertwined coils. 

The labyrinth at Harmony Hill is (I think) an 11-circuit design, and is the first one I have ever stepped on.  I chose to walk it first by myself. My friend had indicated that sometimes it is hard to concentrate and I found this to be true.  The path appeared to head directly to the centre and while sometimes it came tantalizingly close, there were many twists and turns that took me far away before I arrived.  Needing to concentrate on the path was very relaxing for me, and I appreciated the experience very much.

The next day, the guys walked it with me.  This was completely different.  There was enough distraction that more than one of us lost our place.  It was faster and noisier and harder to concentrate. In fact, it was a bit chaotic, even though we had the same goal.  I realized that I would have to walk this labyrinth many times before I could do it without concentrating on it.

Just two of us walked it again before we left.   What fascinated me was how different the experience was again.  Yes, we were on exactly the same path, but we didn't travel at the same speed.  Consequently, there were moments when we were walking one in front of the other, then side by side, and once we were at completely opposite ends of the circle.  There were times when we looked to be going in different directions, even though we were headed to the same place.   And, because he left the centre before I did, there was even a moment of direct conflict, as one had to step off the path in order to let the other continue on it.

It occurred to me that many relationships are like this.  Those that are the strongest, the most fulfilling, are the ones that we concentrate on.  It takes intentionality as we walk along the path towards the common goal of loving and caring for each other.  Sometimes one walks ahead of the other, sometimes we appear to be at odds when we're not, and other times, the path encourages us to walk side by side in support of each other.

I am going to seek out more labyrinths.  I want to be able to recognize the same path when I see it.

Photo Finish

I've never gone to the horse races before.  I remember watching Secretariat race once on television.  My grandmother was watching it and I remember how fond she was of horses.  I've loved horses ever since...from a distance.  They still kind of freak me out up close.  As a kid, my sister and I went on a trail ride once.  I remember walking was boring, that cantering was painful, but galloping,  well, that was as close to flying as one could get.  I fell in love with Seabiscuit when the movie came out.  But I'd never seen horses race live before.

Oh, it was an exciting day.  We went to Saratoga Springs Racetrack, which displays a carnival atmosphere before you even get in.  From the ticket lineup to the clubhouse, there were little kiosks and music and carnival smells.  Since we reserved trackside seating in the restaurant, we made our way there and were absolutely delighted with our seats.

We arrived in time for lunch and Dave tried to explain how to read the race card, what to look for, what the various codes meant.   Being the brave gamblers that we all are, we each had a $20 limit.  How did we do?  Let's just say that one of us retained enough to treat the other two to ice cream for the rest of the week.  

There were some thrilling moments--in the second race, Solitaire lost to Hangover Kid in a photo finish.  See how close they were?   The difference was only in the timing of their stride and which forefeet landed first.  I cheered with everyone else, urging these horses towards the finish line directly in front of our table. That was part of the fun, but not part of the joy.  The joy was found in witnessing beautiful creatures run full out.

It's how I want to run my own race, to give it everything I've got, whether I win in the end or not.

Of mice and....mice

First stop on our annual not-quite-camping vacation  took us to a little cabin tucked away in a New York state forest.  Truth be told, it was away from many things, but that suited us. The cabin had seen better days, true, but then, so have a great many other cabins.  This one had three bedrooms, a kitchenette, a nice little porch table to eat at.  

It also had a few mouse traps.  Dave had arrived first, and had been told that the kids from the last family that stayed there, left the door open and it was possible a mouse had gotten inside.  They apologized,  but since they weren't certain, Dave said okay.  

We cooked supper, did the dishes, went to bed.  In the morning, we were readying to do breakfast dishes, when Dave opened the cupboard door under the sink and found the remains of the critter who had not been there the night before. 

As unsettling as that was, we were glad that we didn't have to worry about the mouse anymore. 

That evening however, as we three were settled in for a quiet evening after a very full day adventuring, it became clear that there wasn't just one mouse.  Our initial gasp sent it scurrying away again, through a hole in the wall that went into the room that I had slept in the night before.  While the guys were in there trying to find it, another mouse crossed the room.  He went right to the mousetrap, moved it several inches, and ... honestly, I don't remember what happened to him after that. 

Except that it wasn't THAT.  Not yet. 

The guys put a wine cork in a hole in the floor right under the bed I had slept in.  They put a water bottle in the wall where he had gone through.   Nonetheless, I was not going to sleep in that room again.  No, I laid claim to the top bunk in the other room.  Even then, it took a while to quit imagining that I was hearing scurrying sounds.   I'm not actually sure that I was imagining,  but it was the only way I was going to be able to sleep, so let's just leave it at that. 

Those imagined sounds may have been preferable to the loud whack we all heard an hour or so later.  Being dutiful men, the guys went out to check and sure enough, THAT had happened.  Two mice down. 

In the morning, I walked to the office and quietly complained.  I explained that they didn't have one mouse, they had a mouse infestation.  We knew of at least three.  I explained about the hole in the floor, the thought that they were coming in under the kitchen sink, the unfortunate task the guys had of removing not one, but two mice.  I suggested that they give Dave a significant refund. 

After explaining that they'd had an appointment with an exterminator who didn't show up, that they really thought there was only one (and a few other excuses that I really wasn't letting her get away with), the manager asked me what I thought would be reasonable. 

"Look", I said, "I'm a fifty-year old woman who spent the night on the top bunk for pete's sake.  FREE sounds good to me, but since we did use your linens I'll leave it to your sense of honour." 

It's only because she completely refunded us for the two nights that I am not saying where that cabin is. She did her best to make it right, she promised not to rent the cabin again until the problem was fixed.  They don't deserve the negative publicity. 

But they don't deserve positive publicity either.   

In fact, I'd just like to forget about them altogether.