Last Day in Spain

 

On this last day in Spain,  I’m reviewing my visits here…
The colors that I associate with Spain are blue and orange–the sky and all the tiled roofs and buildings.
All things Spanish seem to be of terra cotta and marble– lots of marble:  marble floors, marble walls, tiles of marble, stairs of marble– slippery when wet–cool in the heat– resilient yet breakable. Ancient and beautiful, what is older than stone?
Like agates, each piece is a work of art…

Fürth–who knew?

 

Yay!  We decided to take in one more little town before flying back home.  Near the Nuremberg Airport is Fuerth (pronounced, Furt), a town that Ellioto had visited before; he thought that I might like it.

 

Oh yes–  I loved it the moment I stepped into the quaint little hotel lobby.  Although part of the Quality Inn group— it’s called, Hotel Bavaria and has all the markings of a boutique hotel—including a brand new sauna—European style. Quite nice.  Large and sturdy, wood-framed windows opened into the night, lit softly by the street-lights, inviting in the old world charm.

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Kindness in the Subway

Ellioto is a mass-transit-kind-of traveler.  He loves the hunt, the economy and the expediency.  So when we travel, taxis and Uber, etc. are considered only when public transport doesn’t make sense.  Sometimes we rent a car but usually we (he) study the maps and figure it out.

Grumpy when the elevators/lifts/escalators aren’t working, I grudgingly pull my weighty luggage and feel quite sorry for myself.

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The Elephant in the Room: terror in the streets

I hesitate to write this post.  As the Good Natured Traveler, I prefer to view the world through rose-colored glasses.  I believe that most of the time, our expectations influence the events that we experience.  Self-fulfilling prophecy.

But in light of the awful events that we have seen and heard around the world, it seems that bad things can happen.  Bad things do sometimes happen.

“Every time you go somewhere, there’s a tragedy, it seems!”, my sister wrote following the Las Vegas, Canadian and French killings this past Autumn.

Is that true?

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On the Road Again: Upper State New York

Who knew that it would be warm enough to be sunning myself in upstate New York during the first week of October?

Ah… my gratitude is immense—you may remember that I’m the one who mourns  summer’s passing. (It’s not like i haven’t paid my dues—having lived in the north woods of Maine for 7 years;  I can split wood and build a fire with the best of them.)

But I’ve never been to the Hudson River Valley before and it is soothing to the eyes and a balm to the mind; I recommend it heartily…

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Autumn’s Sweet Breath

 Sitting in the sweet morning’s early light, in my own backyard in SW Ohio,  I’m conscious of how Autumn is chasing away Summer’s close breath, like the coolness of a breath-mint, clean, fresh and mentholated.

But the grass is still deep emerald green, having had enough rain to make Ohio stand proud and pretty in its party dress.

The cornfields offer their own kind of show– red=headed tassels as the sun lights them from above. The stalks vary in colors, from green to yellow and russet brown–determined by what?  When they were planted?  The elevation and drainage? It’s a question that my 8 year old grandson, Ty, might ask.

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Last Day in Spain

On this last day in Spain,  I’m reviewing my visits here…
The colors that I associate with Spain are blue and orange–
all things Spanish seem to be of terra cotta and marble– lots of marble:  marble floors, marble walls, marble tiles, marble stairs– slippery when wet–cool in the heat– resilient yet breakable. Ancient and beautiful, what is older than stone?  Like agates, each piece is a work of art…
Though, the true prize seems to be the unmarred– whitest of white– a sculptor’s delight, yet I prefer the colored and striated, created by nature–indicative elements– more practical than gold.

My time here is waning.

So many sights and insights–I marvel at culture and people and history with big hope in my heart.  We have had countless people-helping-people experiences.  I believe they outnumber the bad experiences that we hear about.   A real problem is that fear and anger invoke more emotional response.  That’s why I want to report through my good natured filter.  I see it as responsibility to present a more realistic view.
In many ways, being on the move in other countries feels like a step out of time.  But as I make-ready, I become excited about returning home–gathering with family and friends.  Dorothy had that much right–“There’s no place like home.”

In the clouds –last day in Tenerife

 

I got up early so that I could have alone-time with the sun as it breaks the night into the early morning’s light.

 

Far to my right, the shore begins to sparkle in coy flirtation as the sun turns its gaze.  A voyeur, I watch as he spreads his favor, lighting each little village in its own special time.

This is the most rugged country that I’ve ever seen.  People told me that the Canary Islands remind them of Hawaii–but I didn’t find that to be true of Tenerife.  For one thing, they seem to have more roads  and dwellings in precarious places!

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