Author: Karen

 

Before starting our day, we fueled up with a magnificent breakfast among the gothic arches in the cloister – what a glorious setting! The food was heavenly as well.

Our guide Susana met us in the lobby, then we went outside, and in the shadow of the Temple of Diana,  she explained to us the history of this medieval university  village.

 

We then walked through the old city, stopping by to chat with a lady named Antonia, who happened to walk out of her house. She gave us kisses and wished us a good day.

We got to the university and met two students who gave us a tour and answered our questions..

They  told us of their traditions, some formal and some funny. We were able to sit in one of the classrooms for a Q and A. They were attired in their robes which are used in ceremonial occasions, which looked quite familiar.  Was Harry Potter a member of the University of Evora? No, but J K Rawlings was living in Portugal when she wrote the books. The robes are identical!

Old and new, the medieval along with the modern – all worked together. The buildings were beautiful  and the students were a delight.

We did a walking tour of the other sites including the Évora cathedral, which has a blend of Romanesque and Gothic architecture. It is the largest cathedral in Portugal.

The church of St Francis houses the unusual Chapel of Bones, which reminds us of the transitory nature of our being. The bones were brought here by three Franciscan monks in the sixteenth century  who dug them up from local cemeteries as a warning and a reminder to the wealthy citizenry who appeared to enjoy their worldly goods a bit too much: “We bones in here wait for you to join us.” The bones were artfully arranged along the chapel walls, ceiling and columns. It was very eerie and the reactions of the people who paraded around the chapel freaked me out a bit. Some seemed to enjoy it a bit too much, whereas others were appalled. It was a thought-provoking  encounter.

 

Susana took us to the food market for a few tastings of local products, then we were free . We found an ATM for me, and a store that seemed to have lots of odds and ends that met our needs: sunglasses and souvenirs. Beatrice saw a sign for ice cream on one of the streets, so we tracked it down and enjoyed a sumptuous “lunch.”

We had free time until 5:15, when we set off for our cooking lesson from the Portuguese Cooking School. A friend and colleague of Susana’s, Sophia and her crew greeted us enthusiastically. The school is located in the patio in what was the former garage of her home, which was renovated to resemble a garden house, with plants and herbs growing outside. She was assisted by three ladies. We broke ourselves up into two groups: one group made the salads and dessert and our group made the main courses. We were responsible for a pork stew and potatoes, and a cod dish with, among other things, onions, garlic and olive oil. ..the three most important ingredients in Portuguese cooking, we were told.  Menus were given out and we will bring them home to cook for you, or you can cook for us! Sophia started us out with a chorizo appetizer and fueled our culinary spirit with plenty of sangria, which went down smoothly. It was a delightful experience even for those of us who are less than gifted in the kitchen.

Unfortunately, we must say goodbye to Portugal, as we cross over the border into Spain tomorrow. Though it is a driving day, there will be some stops around the back roads once again. We will visit Mérida, Spain, one of the most important Roman capitals on the Iberian Peninsula and step back in time for a few brief moments.

To be continued…

We left our hotel bright and early -well, early anyway – to explore the back roads from Lisbon, heading south to the wine area of Alentejo, through the rolling hills. Our eventual destination was Évora, but we had many stops along the way.

Our first stop was to the tiny hamlet of Arraiolos, which has the unusual distinction of being the rug making capital of Portugal for centuries. In 1496 King Manuel decreed that all Muslims were expelled from the country unless they became Christians; Muslim rug making families therefore migrated to the south where they found a more tolerant community. They settled there and the whole family became involved in the rug making craft. We enjoyed a guided tour of the rug making museum in town and learned the history and saw rugs, new and old.

Our second stop was to a monte, a traditional wine making estate in the Alentejo region, which was huge: over 7,000 acres of property with many buildings and vineyards. The wealthy patriarch, Jose de Mello, (1927-2009) had many passions, including  saving horses by starting stud farms, breeding  and racing them. He started growing grapes in the 80s, and got some of his starter vines from Napa. He also had a large family, having produced eleven children, many of whom play a major roll in the running of the estate today. All of his children are involved in some way.

We walked through the vineyards and enjoyed the sights and smells of the herbs mingling among the vines. We had a tour of the winery, seeing the steel drums and oak barrels in the cellar. The production is very successful and they sell over two million bottles a day. They bottle a large variety of wines, though some of the grapes are purchased from other vintners.

Of course, such an event isn’t complete without a tasting. We were also given bread, cheese, and jelly to accompany the flavors of the three varietals we tasted:  a sauvignon blame, a rosé and a sirah.

After the tasting, we adjourned to a huge dining room and had lunch! We started off with chicken soup, then had duck rice with sausage, salad and a phyllo-filled jam dessert with strawberries.

Our last stop was a visit to a cork factory, where our guide Susana explained the process of extracting cork from tree trunks, then drying and stacking them.

The variety of products made from cork is amazing, from furniture to floors. We were guided to the showroom for the ultimate discount shopping experience. I didn’t see anyone  leave empty-handed.

Next stop: Évora, the white washed village which has gained recognition as a UNESCO National Heritage Site. Our home for the next two nights is the Pousada Dos Loios in Évora, a former monastery converted to a boutique hotel by the government and managed by Pestano corporation. We checked in late in the afternoon, with an hour to rest before we had a guest lecturer, Paolo, a university professor who discussed his experiences during the 70s, a turbulent period in the history of the country.

We had a delicious, elegant dinner served in the cloister of the hotel, with puréed vegetable soup, spinach and pork cheeks, with a gelled pineapple with chocolate ice cream for dessert. We took a stroll after dinner to explore the hotel grounds. We discovered that the pool is not heated, no surprise.

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As twilight turns dark,  we wander among the Roman ruins from the first century, reminding us of the past is always with us.

My internet conked out last night, so it is now tomorrow.  After breakfast, we will have a walking tour of Évora, a visit with university students, maybe some time poolside? It is supposed to be 95 degrees.  Tonight we have a cooking lesson. Oh, dear.these sisters were not brought up to cook!

More to come!

We’ve spent time in lovely Lisbon, examining its many areas and sites for the past two days.

The Alfama district is the city’s oldest and we strolled around the neighborhood Sunday morning  while all was quiet, and enjoyed the architecture and culture. As the city was waking, we intermingled with the people and watched the beginnings of a festival that was about to take place. There was also a bicycle race in the district that was about to begin. The locals were gathering to cheer the bicyclists on

One interesting note: on the walls of the district were portraits of the residents, some who have departed this earth and others who are still alive and working in the community. One remarkable example was the photo of a lady, Maria Luz,  who still runs the neighborhood laundry service, where clothes are still washed and scrubbed by hand using washboards. As we were looking in the shop, Maria  herself passed by in the street! Wow! What a moment. 

In the Belém district, we visited two important sites:

This is the church at the San Jerónimos Monastery, a UNESCO World Heritage site. The flamboyant architectural style  is called Manueline, after King Manuel I, and was built to celebrate Portugal’s seafaring past.

Also in Belém district, the Monument to the Discoveries has a dramatic location at the bustling waterfront along the Tagus river.

Sunday afternoon was spent in the charming  town of Sintra, in the mountains, a short distance away.  In the nineteenth century, this town was composed of the rich and famous – power brokers, mainly nobility- who built fantastic fairy tale palaces and castles in the forest to serve  retreats from the rigors of power. The fanciful form of architecture during this period, called Portuguese Romanticism,  rivaled the imagination and one could see the craziness of a King Ludwig or Gaudí with effects from Walt Disney. This was truly mind-boggling.

The biggest and most resplendent of all was the  Palace and Park of Pena, built by Dona Maria II, Queen of Portugal and her consort, Don Fernando II, known as the Artist-King. Dona Maria died in childbirth after having had eleven children ; Don Fernando remarried; his second wife, the Countess of Elda continued work on the structure and had a key role in the design of the palace’s interiors and gardens. The second couple remained childless. There had been a structure on the property since medieval times, the first being a twelfth century chapel dedicated to Our Lady of Pena. It is located on the very top of the hill.  Getting there required two busses, our tour bus and a park shuttle bus.

At the end of our visit, instead of taking the shuttle back to the ticket office, we strolled through the gardens, which ran from the top of the hill to the bottom, where our tour began. The park is composed of exotic plants from all over the world and there are vast expanses of gardens of varying types. Here are just a few photos of what was an overwhelming horticultural experience.

In the evening we had our experience listening to a fado singer and her group at a local restaurant serving traditional Portuguese cuisine.  Fado is a musical experience that is unique to the country, and the lyrics are very important. Taken from poetry, themes involve love and loss, but can also be expressions of hope and happiness. In all cases, these are very emotional songs, and the fado tradition has passed on for generations.

This is morning we left Lisbon for an artistic experience: tile making.  We learned how tiles are made and made our own, which will be finished for us and delivered to our hotel when we arrive in Madrid, at the conclusion of our trip. My sister did a bird tile  I did sort of a flower – not my best work. It will be interesting to see how they turn out.

 

Next came cheese making, held in the local cheese museum, where some of us were given the opportunity to participate in the process . Following that, we had a cheese tasting; cheeses aged for different periods of time were brought out, including those made by our trip mates.

We were also served a lovely lunch of pea soup, vegetables and turkey, followed by fruit and an egg yolk rolling cake.

At the end of the meal, I visited with the canines, who were soaking up a sunny day.

We returned to town for one more stroll through the waterfront, to visit this elevator built by a student of Gustavo Eiffel. We had free time in the late afternoon,  time to pack for our next location, as we go from Lisbon to Evora tomorrow.  We’re delighted that our new driver will be the husband of Susanna, our superlative  guide.

On to Evora, for more adventures and surprises!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Things often seem easier in the planning stage than in the actual execution. Just jump on a plane and get there – oh, sure.

This is was our plane, a – dare I say it –  kickass one at that. It’s the Lufthansa Airbus 380, the world’s largest passenger jet, which flies from SFO to Frankfurt.  it is so huge that it can’t fit on many airport runways, but we’re lucky at SFO to have it as one of our traveling choices. Even in economy, there is that all-elusive legroom, and again, as Lady Luck would have it, my sister and I, seated across from each other, had an empty seat next to us.  We barely felt takeoff as we floated up in the air, and the whole flight was almost eerily quiet, with no jet engines hammering in our ears. The food was better-than-average, the liquor was fine, the staff was attentive and there was entertainment galore.  I finished my book and saw a wonderful German film called “Toni Erdrich” which I highly recommend. My sister saw three great films (including “La La Land” for the third time) and also finished reading her book.

What did we not do? SLEEP.

We were also just a bit late, so we had a little over an hour to get to our flight from Frankfurt to Lisbon.

Frankfurt airport is also huge and we scampered through passport control, an airbus – twice as we took the wrong one the first time – another passport control, a boarding pass control, and security.  I was stopped in security because it was thought I had a bottle in my carry-on.  I said no. The attendant rifled around, upset all my items, found nothing, nodded unsmilingly and left me to scoop all up my stuff and throw everything back in the carry-on.

Tick tock.

We made our flight to Lisbon with minutes to spare but with no chance for me to visit the restroom.

This flight was a step back in time as we trugged our way up the stairs ( front or back of the plane? I chose front) and realized we should have gone in the back of the plane -oops, sorry- as we ended up like fish swimming upstream, with almost disasterous results for me with an unfortunate encounter with a rather harsh burly male German passenger with a bad attitude who pushed me and my carry on out of the way using brute force – what ever happened to chivalry? It was not the welcome I’d hoped for. Fortunately, my seat mates were kind people, a mother and teenage son from Germany. I, however, was in the window seat, trying to figure out a way to use the bathroom before takeoff.

I didn’t have to worry.  We did not take off.  Oh, we did eventually, but first we waited for the crowd of busy weekenders’ planes to go before us, then the thunderstorm hit, so we couldn’t move for a while.  Tick tock. We sat an hour and a half.  At least I was able to use the restroom. What did we not do? SLEEP

The view of Lisbon from my window seat just before landing made it all worthwhile.

We collected our bags, found our driver, who took us to our hotel, where our guide and group leader was waiting, with the group, to take on on a city walking tour and dinner. Did we want to join them?

Of course. We can sleep at home.

It felt good to walk after being confined in those flying tubes for fifteen hours. We met our twelve fellow travel mates, all perky and anxious to see the city.

This tour is from Overseas Adventure Tours, and we will be visiting two cities – Lisbon and Madrid, and in between we’ll be visiting the back roads of Iberia. In fact, that’s the name of the tour.

We walked down the main thoroughfare, took the trolley to the upper part of the city,  and had dinner at a restaurant  the guide’s grandfather frequented.

By that time, everything was a bit hazy. The food was excellent and not heavy – Portuguese tapas.

I took a goodbye shot of the delightful café next door as we were wending our way to the bus and a ride back to the hotel.

We got back to our new hotel room, tried to organize ourselves a bit, and dropped into bed after midnight, when the realization hit that we will be on an all-day tour beginning with a 7:00 AM wake up call.

Oh, my..

i slept three and a half hours  I’m all perky, not able to sleep. This is called jet lag.

It is 5:24 AM Sunday Lisbon time and we have a big day ahead of us.

It all seemed so easy at home, reading the brochure, but have no fear, dear readers. We will survive. We will persevere.  We may even thrive.

Tune in for our next thrilling installment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frankfurt.

If you’d like something, just ask!   I am always open to ideas for posts. One of my friends suggested I post the cats of Sancerre. I’ll do better than that: here are some memorable animals I found along the road, near and far.

It’s not easy to photograph animals, since they’re always on the move. The egret, above, was taken at Lake Merritt in Oakland, CA.  As you can imagine, most animal pictures come with a story.

Parisians love their pets, especially their dogs, and these animals were found along the streets of the city.

I found this fellow in the door in the Marais district. His owner owned the shop.

This puppy was going in the beauty salon. Time for a shampoo?

These ladies were enjoying their drinks, while their dogs waited patiently.

This is Zsa Zsa, who was the hostess at the Auberge des Deux Ponts, a café on the Ile Saint-Louis. She’s taking a rest from her duties after checking on the customers.

Close encounters of the canine kind almost ended in a fight at the entrance to the supermarket.

We ran into many felines in the Alhambra, in Granada, Spain:

The lady had a sandwich. The cat wanted the sandwich. The cat begged. The lady relented.

Strolling the streets of Granada, we ran across this pup who was ready for a walk.

This is an urban cat: a Londoner, who lives on a houseboat in the delightful area called Little Venice.

A trip to the Dordogne area of France on a hiking tour brought us up close and personal with all kinds of lovely beasts.

This is my site logo. Title? Assmates. I have another photo with these guys I call fornicating. I won’t post it. You can use your imagination.

This flirty kitty in Sarlat posed from the security of her window,

while another feline in the ‘hood climbs up rooftops.

 

We met many cats in Athens, in the shadow of the Acropolis:

My trip to Sicily brought a treasure trove of animals:

On the farm: Sunday dinner?

Strolling home after a long day out on the pasture,

or enjoying lunch with the ladies at a sidewalk café in Catania

or keeping the ladies of the evening company in the red light district of Catania…these animals had jobs to do!

I found this shy feline in Erice.

In Syracuse, the cat watches from its perch, knows all but tells no secrets.

 

Another working cat: Palermo pussycat greets visitors as they enter  one of the stores in the commercial center.

Riding a mule on Mt Etna made this a real kick-ass adventure for me! No, I did not kick the ass.  No animals were harmed in the  making of this photo.

 

This is Félix, from the Burgundy area of France, in the tiny village of Saint-Denis-de-Vaux. He was very patient while I chased him around and took many pictures of him.

There were loads of cats in the Botanical Gardens of Buenos Aires. This one is trying to grab a fish from the pond.

We visited the zoo there, and met a lovely giraffe.

We flew north and met a coati at Iguazu Falls, the UNESCO World Heritage site and national park between Argentina and Brazil.

The park has an abundance of gorgeous wildlife.

 

The region of Provence in France brought me in contact with

a black and white friend in Fontaine de Vaucluse

and a ginger cat in Gigondas

 

In Sancerre, in the Loire Valley,

This friendly black car hung out at the language school I was attending, much to the disgust of the directrice, Marianne. She did not like him and he knew it; he hung around, maybe just to tease her..you think?

Everyone in Sancerre knew Confetti the cat. He hung out at the window of the Italian restaurant near the ashtray, peering in the window, hoping for some take-out pasta .  I’d also find him sitting on warm cars on cool  mornings.

Closer to home, LA brings me into contact with animals: This was the tough guy of the neighborhood. Cats would run from him. He showed no mercy.

Blanca lived in the lovely home of a ceramicist; a friend and I did some house-and-cat sitting here.

We end the tour where we began, at Lake Merritt in Oakland. A friend and I walked the lake together every Sunday morning for years. One day, a cat came from out of the bushes.  His name tag showed him to be Park Kitty. He disappeared for a time, then returned with a new pink heart tag,  a new name –  Teddy – and phone number of the nature center. He was a park “employee” and, as he had no other home, he was fed by one of the park rangers. Teddy was such a friendly fellow. He would run up to us, visit and let us give him a cuddle every Sunday.

Unfortunately, because of budget cuts, the ranger was let go and Teddy experienced various privations, from lack of food to wounds inflicted by larger animals. Teddy’s friends banded together, and a plea to the residents from an article in the local paper was answered: Teddy retired to a nice, large farmhouse south of Oakland, where he enjoyed the company of two loving humans and a family composed of other welcoming animals.

Aren’t you glad this story had a happy ending?

Feel free to offer any suggestions for posts ! I will be happy to comply, if I can.

  

Knowing a foreign language can come in handy.

I was staying in the idyllic village of Sainte-Cécile-les-Vignes, in Provence a few years ago on a ten-day small group photo tour with my sister. We were strolling the streets of the village with two other ladies when I saw some lovely flowers along the edge of the street. As I ventured over, I wasn’t certain if I was still on the village land or private property as I snapped the photos;  I heard a voice asking me what I was doing – “Qu’est-ce que vous faites là?!” the voice demanded. There was a woman looking at me out her window.  Embarrassed, I apologized for trespassing and said that her flowers were just so lovely,  that we were on a photo tour, and I was so impressed by her beautiful blossoms that I had to photograph them. She asked where we were from as she wanted to know where her flowers were going to be seen. I said we were Americans and introduced myself, from California, my sister, from Hawaii and the two other ladies, who were from Nebraska.

She explained that the village was occupied by the Germans during WWII when she was eight years old and she was very frightened of these foreign invaders. The Americans liberated the village. They came in with smiles and treats for the residents, including chewing gum and chocolate for the children. She never forgot that day. She wasn’t afraid of them. The village was joyous; it was a new beginning.

She asked me to tell this story and to thank the people in our country.  I am retelling this story to you as a reminder that we never forget kindness.  She allowed me to take her picture.

 

I was in a French language immersion program at Coeur de France language school in Sancerre, in the Loire valley last summer.  I’d heard of a man who acted as the unofficial “watchguard” and friends, who attended the school three years in a row, would  look for him every year. This man was always looking out his window at the goings-on in the village  I stayed in the school on the second floor and my window was directly across from his. I spent my time practicing the language, mingling with my new friends, and going on excursions to neighboring villages, but I never saw this mysterious man.  I began to think he was a phantom, like Boo Radley in To Kill a Mockingbird. 

On my last day in the village, I was picked up by the local taxi lady to be taken to the train station in the next town. I got in the taxi, looked up, and voilà! There he was! The taxi lady, like everyone else in this small village, knew him and she called up to him. He looked down and smiled at us.  I quickly grabbed my iPhone  to get this image.  It was nice to finally see him.

 

 

 

 

 

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“Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much fun as simply messing about in boats.” The Wind in the Willows.

 

There are many ways to travel.  In my youth, travel meant running around to “see it all” – my favorite Renoir at the Jeu de Paume museum, the lights of Garnier Opera House at sunset, the view of the Eiffel Tower from the Seine. I mentally checked off each adventure and eventually ran out of days.  By the time I got home I was exhausted. I needed a vacation! Eventually I learned not seeing it all was an exercise in futility but also an excuse to return.

It took me quite a few years before I learned that it is possible to have a relaxing as well as an educational trip.  I took my first cruise!  A friend and I stayed in a  beach resort outside Athens  for a week, then boarded a small ship to cruise from Piraeus to Istanbul.  There were no frills as compared to today’s grand voyages: no rock wall, no mini mall, no multiple dining venues.  A local band played nightly and we danced.  There was a shipboard male and female beauty contest. We ate fantastic food at leisurely dinners with a mix of European, Canadian and American passengers as we chatted long into the night.  I was able to serve as translator for the many French passengers with conversations on a wide range of topics.  We left the ship daily to explore a new island.  We strolled through the shops in Mykonos, marveled at the ruins of Ephesus, rented motorcycles to explore Rhodes, rode a mule to the top of Santorini, sailed through the straits of Dardanelles and got lost in the wonders of the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul.  My traveling companion was a Greek-American, fluent in the language, who’d lived and taught English in Athens for a time. He was the one  who arranged the deals on the motorcycles and mule, and bargained with us for the perfect hand made tile or vase at local crafts markets. I could read, relax, lie on the deck and enjoy sunbathing on the beaches.  I also soaked in the local culture. I saw what I wanted to see yet wasn’t exhausted at the end of the day.  It was a real vacation!

I was hooked on cruising!

Since then I’ve taken ocean cruises on medium-size ships to the East Coast, Canada, Alaska, Hawaii and Europe.  I’ve cruised the Mediterranean and the Baltic.  I’ve seen cities from Sitka to St. Petersburg, only unpacking once.  I’ve been wined, dined, and entertained in style. Ocean cruises offer tons of choices for activities and dining for all ages for a reasonable price.  The cruise industry has taken off and for good reason.  Touring is now available for those who have neither the time or energy to”run around to see it all” as I did in my youth.  There is something for everyone to do regardless of age or interests. Families find it an ideal way to travel, and cruise ships are packed during summer and the holidays.

River cruising has also gained in popularity in recent years. The pace is slower, the activities aren’t as varied, yet there is usually a stop each day, with excursions.  I’ve been on a Seine river cruise, and highlights included seeing Honfleur and  Monet’s gardens at Giverny.  For me, the pièce de résistance was docking in Paris, with a view of the Eiffel Tower.  I mean, how cool is that?!  My most recent river cruise was down the Mississippi to New Orleans from St. Louis, designed not only to see the sights but to treasure time sailing slowly, watching the river as it meandered through towns and listening to lectures by the riverloreans, who discussed the river’s history, flora and fauna. Wonderful entertainment was brought in from shore: a jazz group from Memphis and the Liberty Belles, three lady singers in period clothing from the D-Day Museum in New Orleans performing songs from the 40s were two memorable ones. Passengers enjoyed the leisurely transit gazing at the changing vistas from the comfort of the spacious veranda of their staterooms or on the outside decks.

Are there downsides to cruising? Oh, sure.  Some people don’t like being cooped up on a ship during sea days especially during transatlantic and transpacific cruises.  I’ve been on both, and have never had that feeling.  Others feel the days are too programmed. When multiple cruise ships are in port, it can get crowded, impossible to see that special painting in the museum as you’re being herded about like sheep.  There’s no in-depth study, just an snapshot of a city or area, with a hope to return or a resolve never to go back to THAT place again!

For me, nothing beats being on a ship at the beginning of the day, watching the sun rise as we pull into a port at dawn: we greet a new day, with a new city to explore.

And at the end of the day, we can watch the sunset, as the brilliant colors paint the merging of sky and sea.

Have you tried messing about in boats? Maybe you should!

 

 

 

 

 

 

I grew up in the San Francisco Bay area and have lived there most of my life, except for my college years. As a little kid, my sister and I would take the bus into “the City” with our mother, who, as a young immigrant girl from Northern Ireland,worked in the Emporium department store before she married and moved away. We met her friends, had lunch, went shopping and enjoyed the rides on the rooftop at Christmas. I had my picture taken every year with Santa. Those were my favorite days.

As an adult, I never tire of the City, as it is constantly changing yet it still remains the same. The fog is still there. The views of the bay change with new buildings, but the charm is still there. I am intrigued  by the changes in the different neighborhoods and love riding the bus from the Embarcadero all the way across the city to the Legion of Honor, as people get on and off, with their grocery bags and backpacks. I walk the many steps on Greenwich street to the top to see Coit Tower. North Beach, Chinatown, the Mission: it’s all there in the City. I go in often to see a ballet or an exhibit at SFMOMA or the de Young or the Palace. We are so lucky to have so many cultural offering so close at hand..and then there’s the food..oh, no, don’t get me started. There are numerous sites devoted to the food of San Francisco. It would take a lifetime to sample it all.

San Francisco is my almost home and my favorite city.

 

When I was in college, as a French major my goal was to visit France before I began my teaching career. Paris has been my second favorite city ever since that first trip following graduation. I can’t resist its wide boulevards, cafes, museums and monuments. I have been fortunate enough to stay in apartments several times over the years for extended stays, and became a temporary resident of the neighborhood. Vendors in the market recognized me. The lady at the boulangerie, where I’d get my croissants and baguettes would smile and call out a friendly “Bonjour!” The French are a very welcoming people. There is always something new to see or discover: a special exhibit, a new restaurant, a new neighborhood. Hemingway said Paris is “a moveable feast” and it has always stayed with me, no matter where I am. I long to return.

I guess I left my heart in two places: Paris and San Francisco..

It is not easy to choose a domain name.

I thought of titles like teacher travel or senior sojourns. Nope. Boring.

I’ve always liked the phrase “kick-ass.” I remember my nephew saying his dad had a kick-ass job.   Most people would call it a long and distinguished career. I prefer kick-ass. There’s a little spark to the word and it’s fun to say.

I’ve gotten mixed reactions when I tell friends I’m doing a new site called kick-ass travel. Some like the word and think the site will be fun; others don’t like it at all.

George H W Bush jumped out of an airplane to celebrate his ninetieth birthday. That’s one excellent adventure. That’s  kick-ass.

I am very lucky to have led a fun, maybe even kick-ass life as I’ve traveled on excellent adventures, both near and far from home, and I’ll tell you all – hmmm, maybe not all – about them. I enjoy making new memories with words and images.

You can follow along as I embark on new adventures.

I’m building this lighthearted site, full of photos with stories to match.

I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to let me know how you feel about it.

WELCOME!