tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86540633206983686062024-02-21T01:01:55.745-08:00Hopscotchlouishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.comBlogger134125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-8910624234106131942011-02-14T15:44:00.000-08:002011-02-14T19:41:57.524-08:00A Mighty River<div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>A Mighty River</b></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I hear the impatient idling of the powerful diesel engine of the large articulated bus at the busstop half a block away. The light of a new day is barely seeping into my room. I roll over and look at the clock. Seven-thirty a.m, as usual. The large apartment block between my small townhouse and the busstop is emptying its occupants: young and middle-aged, singles and married into that bus and the others that have already come and gone.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">They are the workers and the employers, the students and the professionals, the movers and the shakers, all joining in a fast-moving, turbulent, dynamic river of life that churns downtown with the energy of ideas and commerce, services and production, aspirations and dreams.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">My wife and I used to be part of that mighty Amazon fed by all those commuters crowding quickly into the impatient buses, trains, ferries, planes, cars on this and every other morning.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">But these days, in earned retirement, I can pull the covers up to my neck again, and roll over snug in the realization that I won't have to face a whole day of work on not enough sleep, again.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Retirement is a quieter tributary as life meanders through visits from grown sons and daughters, grandkids, photos, phone calls, the odd trip or cruise, e-mails, books, reflections and memories into that contented fulfilment into which my life partner has peacefully tiptoed before me.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-37656795519347818412011-01-26T14:53:00.000-08:002011-01-26T14:59:51.278-08:00Elena<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJz4cpkzCXEM8jU9hxwO-FjgCix4vP2uwTZ31Bc76JRp_kgVd85g2e-g0Sq6ffb7Q-6Mz47-iSh7xc6frwwBkDSr4zwFWzLXLmFB022FMz03n2hn5CtM1n4J_SQdfsqYZdKxUIPbU6Mie/s1600/IMG_1116b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJz4cpkzCXEM8jU9hxwO-FjgCix4vP2uwTZ31Bc76JRp_kgVd85g2e-g0Sq6ffb7Q-6Mz47-iSh7xc6frwwBkDSr4zwFWzLXLmFB022FMz03n2hn5CtM1n4J_SQdfsqYZdKxUIPbU6Mie/s200/IMG_1116b.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Elena has come home. </span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Marc, Lise and I brought her back to this center of her world, her life: her favorite spot next to the fireside, me, her son and daughter and their families.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Elena taught me not to dwell on the end of events but on the events themselves. To her, it wasn't the end of the weekend that counted, but the rest of the weekend. It wasn't the last day of a vacation that mattered but what we experienced in that wonderful new city or place. It wasn't the sadness of the day our children packed up their belongings and left home to establish their own careers and families that lasted but our memories of while they were with us and our confidence that they had learned to be fine and responsible adults. </span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">To Elena and me life is not a series of events with ends but an evolution through phases that flow seamlessly into each other, a flow that began before us with our ancestors and which, with the modifications we made, will continue to flow through Marc and Lise and their families. Everlasting life is not a mystery, an abstract concept but this very tangible stream of characteristics, behaviors and traits evident in our family, a stream that Elena has influenced so lovingly, so greatly and so well.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFofmqS_WZBwAMXH7MlnGLYPNVP4tMoIjfl6OUFb3EKa1sbtUWw_-5wJKkauS3ru6BC5xWSKByqhk_xv6oPfUv8J6TZLoo8g-XPpCLekMXwhkhNGVeTq3A5SV4j0jLWbDSCTOU5DXJv4P/s1600/E_SweetBaby1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMFofmqS_WZBwAMXH7MlnGLYPNVP4tMoIjfl6OUFb3EKa1sbtUWw_-5wJKkauS3ru6BC5xWSKByqhk_xv6oPfUv8J6TZLoo8g-XPpCLekMXwhkhNGVeTq3A5SV4j0jLWbDSCTOU5DXJv4P/s200/E_SweetBaby1.jpg" width="143" /></a></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">This is Elena's favorite baby picture. Deliberately tongue-in-cheek, she labeled it "Sweet Baby". She knew that she was being anything but "sweet", trying hard to pull off the cap that she was being made to wear especially for the photograph on that hot day, just for the occasion. That gesture would be symbolic of the person she always has been, a person who rejected any sort of pretense in herself. </span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Fortunately for me she could tolerate pretense in others because, she later revealed, she had taken an instant dislike to me when our paths first crossed accidentally. She thought I was putting on an air of intellectual superiority.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Elena's self-image as a woman, wife, mother, professional, friend, was never diminished in spite of the consequences of the numerous serious disappointments, obstacles, accidents, illnesses and surgeries she endured, any <i>one</i> of which could have devastated a person who was not focussed on the essential qualities of those roles. </span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Material things and ceremony didn't mean much to her. What she valued most were her family and friends and the enjoyment, knowledge and experiences she gained from travel, books and more recently, from her unique talent in using information technology.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">She could look back on her life and justifiably be satisfied with the way she chose to live it and with the decisions she made. She was especially happy and contented with how she and I have grown together, with the way our son Marc and daughter Lise turned out and with the way they are maturing and raising their families.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_OfD89Y4pBRVCKzXmB46MQtTyVdYgkfCUDYx-AF2tOFN-zkphN2K_BQgN5AG7p9mXJYI63GoQ6mS-YfTmC2tCRbOk_4yrDIF1mo7lMOGo7nn8vrx7O2YCkbbW562fg34Lw_ypt30TcGt2/s1600/IMG_1113b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_OfD89Y4pBRVCKzXmB46MQtTyVdYgkfCUDYx-AF2tOFN-zkphN2K_BQgN5AG7p9mXJYI63GoQ6mS-YfTmC2tCRbOk_4yrDIF1mo7lMOGo7nn8vrx7O2YCkbbW562fg34Lw_ypt30TcGt2/s200/IMG_1113b.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As I hold your urn I wish you were pretending now, Ellen, Elena, Honey, Mom. </span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We love each other now, Elena, as we have for forty-six great years.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And we always will.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">TQME</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Louis, Marc and Lise</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 17.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">(Elena and I always signed our notes and cards with this coded message.</span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>Te Quiero Mucho Elena</i></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>I love you so much Elena)</i></span></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqxHqyhGyfjlWYDG1Bfteu6TYsdt7dxwmwdPOjH-L9fjSQDmaNwkN0XeJF25bLVqc90X9Sh5fGVeCp_XJxFpWEyUzDCSmYjMeCih3fPzQw8oXEdSY0jN4AAocXp2Pva9f5gAV2X8s56y7/s1600/IMG_1105+copy+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqxHqyhGyfjlWYDG1Bfteu6TYsdt7dxwmwdPOjH-L9fjSQDmaNwkN0XeJF25bLVqc90X9Sh5fGVeCp_XJxFpWEyUzDCSmYjMeCih3fPzQw8oXEdSY0jN4AAocXp2Pva9f5gAV2X8s56y7/s200/IMG_1105+copy+2.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div style="font: 14.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><br />
</i></span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-74719813587516912802011-01-14T00:43:00.000-08:002011-01-14T00:43:55.762-08:00A Seamless LifeSome months ago my iPad joined the rest of the paraphernalia on the table beside my chair that I use from time to time all through a normal day: current magazines, a book, a cup of tea, a plate with snacks, the odd bill that came in the mail...you know the stuff I am talking about. But as I have added more and more apps and discovered more and more of its capabilities, my iPad has been taking over more and more of the functions of those items while enabling new ones such as e-mailing, puzzles, games, voice mail, Netflix movies, photo albums and armchair travel.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-0ESAQ9_gOnFuu8EpVl8MEqU8kyCwhSSgpAg6f-OZO-9xtjqLj8nGYhF7iqZqKvAljtlitCQDrKGiWszt0KJ7FqwdXQ1BpNDe_UmWZX6J2cfDNjA0vXjzX_oS6D_V9e0lnyFKYgCLr9N/s1600/iPad+-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-0ESAQ9_gOnFuu8EpVl8MEqU8kyCwhSSgpAg6f-OZO-9xtjqLj8nGYhF7iqZqKvAljtlitCQDrKGiWszt0KJ7FqwdXQ1BpNDe_UmWZX6J2cfDNjA0vXjzX_oS6D_V9e0lnyFKYgCLr9N/s320/iPad+-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
This morning as I sat there with the iPad opened like a book on my lap, reading, a little message flashed in the middle of the page. It announced a Skype video call from a sister 3,000 miles away. A touch of a finger tip on the Accept button: no mouse or even trackpad to locate, and her live picture opened up right there in the middle of the page. Didn't have to reach for the phone, no Bluetooth headset in my ear...absolutely seamlessly I chatted with her. When we hung up, also just a tap of a fingertip, I was right back where I had been on my page.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKSj9BTl_pEHGY3WseUXqaZM1_ZzReK2YCnHb4ha25dSxILWx1t9It5qNzTYS8hhO1GABOOTEXsmmocSwLHE4hsgOwxTtwWQlDrbXCcZR3ZpewDYMXoahwa5s3hfc-IEWSDQ_bCbRQHVc/s1600/iPad+-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinKSj9BTl_pEHGY3WseUXqaZM1_ZzReK2YCnHb4ha25dSxILWx1t9It5qNzTYS8hhO1GABOOTEXsmmocSwLHE4hsgOwxTtwWQlDrbXCcZR3ZpewDYMXoahwa5s3hfc-IEWSDQ_bCbRQHVc/s320/iPad+-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The other day as I read a newspaper on the iPad a reminder from the iPad's calendar to call my bank popped up. I was grumpily about to get up from my chair, hunt my bank statement, look up the bank's phone number and find a phone, and a pencil and piece of paper to make any necessary notes. Then I remembered I could do all of that right there on the iPad. In fact I didn't even have to use a phone at all. In less time than it would have taken just to listen to the bank's phone system's voice menu, I had done my business, no lingering frustration of having had to wait interminably for a representative to take my call, as always happens, no annoying paper note to lose. And I continued right where I had left on my newspaper, a happier man, with more time for my tea and more time to exercise. Well, at least to keep checking Google for the research that one day will assure me that all that concern about exercise wasn't necessary after all, just as I thought.<br />
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No wires to trip over, no attachments, not even the necessity to find a table to rest a hot laptop. No tv remote.<br />
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Ahhh! The Seamless Life has arrived!louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-22672649407341688502010-12-31T20:35:00.000-08:002010-12-31T20:35:09.627-08:00Welcome 2011<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjTI9lRXANiZSY83nDbGjk7KJaZE_GLHN0llUB8wMpp94iiDWXzCcptbenNXIxqmlkn3-jVXtInnOn4EeBgElay5i5hCzLfdEaeXbqH-52qhtcDLTuO_H-VMWfwBPjr6cJRSVzx3NAdxo/s1600/Wecome+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQjTI9lRXANiZSY83nDbGjk7KJaZE_GLHN0llUB8wMpp94iiDWXzCcptbenNXIxqmlkn3-jVXtInnOn4EeBgElay5i5hCzLfdEaeXbqH-52qhtcDLTuO_H-VMWfwBPjr6cJRSVzx3NAdxo/s400/Wecome+2011.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-52827134410701402732010-12-28T20:57:00.000-08:002010-12-28T20:57:25.194-08:00Ants?No, this is not a photo of ants taken with a macro lens.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDbdVV_dXNKE6Zx0Hzjx8U4QY_TjYzv-8g1wn6mb4jJKAUEu5EW-PV1434SlQT_wb9Vb-xjEPHrO1jiZExC9TZTpwS1xzu3XPN9llQqoYnLTByfC3MA4ne4gMqc3r4Jy4a4YYjllUfuFL/s1600/IMG_1354a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDbdVV_dXNKE6Zx0Hzjx8U4QY_TjYzv-8g1wn6mb4jJKAUEu5EW-PV1434SlQT_wb9Vb-xjEPHrO1jiZExC9TZTpwS1xzu3XPN9llQqoYnLTByfC3MA4ne4gMqc3r4Jy4a4YYjllUfuFL/s200/IMG_1354a.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
It's a picture of people skating in an outdoor skating rink in Narbonne, France, set up for the Christmas holidays.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvEc2xxcVLI0YwHGGvPjRP97bwyuEoCLUwrBo_5vLWrSnaMK6t4UmUjJG5bHxs5A9fm1YpRQ6SMkg34Sq6OsdZHHvZkd4wqcQIo7_IF7PT7MRxD7fIqQ5OsezQENnO4j1C6XPb0rwcJcj/s1600/IMG_1354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLvEc2xxcVLI0YwHGGvPjRP97bwyuEoCLUwrBo_5vLWrSnaMK6t4UmUjJG5bHxs5A9fm1YpRQ6SMkg34Sq6OsdZHHvZkd4wqcQIo7_IF7PT7MRxD7fIqQ5OsezQENnO4j1C6XPb0rwcJcj/s320/IMG_1354.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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At night the rink has been illuminated with colored floodlights.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSEsgC5eYxjq8Y3QbYyuWuZraLlRdn_-Lcb92MVqghBtwlaQaUUIiOgeAJBhR-LBqnjwzxqNnx06mWNCLGB2Pvfifn1oIl9nqsydc21m8yhUps5YfzjAsfXttliJEQPRCpAqcsjsbZGn3_/s1600/IMG_1252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSEsgC5eYxjq8Y3QbYyuWuZraLlRdn_-Lcb92MVqghBtwlaQaUUIiOgeAJBhR-LBqnjwzxqNnx06mWNCLGB2Pvfifn1oIl9nqsydc21m8yhUps5YfzjAsfXttliJEQPRCpAqcsjsbZGn3_/s320/IMG_1252.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Normally this area is an archaeological dig framed by a town square, with steps leading down to the remains of an old Roman Road. One evening recently, I watched on my iPad as some trucks and construction equipment pulled up to the site and in a few days this temporary skating rink was built over the pit. The outdoor cafés here, no longer appealing in the cold weather, gave way to a new round of fun activities for the public.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiustD7pmYsUCsMRSNJaySV9ixFEGAY9ozBO8tWJQrP-9LTgae6PbH0HqQauMIM3BJQawCpPKi1iWMGHXPu3gzTgUvkUCjvKyLzN8sR0MmUMAxp0z1dU_15F2P6KRisF2125C4DB9-HWCZo/s1600/IMG_0210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiustD7pmYsUCsMRSNJaySV9ixFEGAY9ozBO8tWJQrP-9LTgae6PbH0HqQauMIM3BJQawCpPKi1iWMGHXPu3gzTgUvkUCjvKyLzN8sR0MmUMAxp0z1dU_15F2P6KRisF2125C4DB9-HWCZo/s320/IMG_0210.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-84123648986034953412010-12-18T17:26:00.000-08:002010-12-18T17:26:11.258-08:00Christmas Cake from Dave and SandraWhen I signed the receipt on his digital device and the Fedex deliveryman handed me the package, the last link of my last remaining bond with the family Christmas traditions of my youth was completed. The package from my youngest sibling, Dave, would contain the Christmas cake he sends me every year without fail. It had traveled the past twenty hours from the Tropical heat and rain of Trinidad, been prodded, probed and sniffed by US Customs, transferred in the dead of night at some snowbound airport somewhere in mid-USA. Now it was in my hands, no longer a package but a bond with long past Christmases and parents and siblings gone or scattered.<br />
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Dave has found a way to get this Christmas cake to me every year for decades. It has not always been convenient for him. One of the most memorable episodes was the Christmas when he used his valuable pass he earned by working for an airline to fly most of a day and all night to bring it to my home in California, just about collapse on the sofa in the livingroom for a few hours of sleep and fly all those hours again back to Trinidad to be with his family.<br />
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I refuse to call this cake a fruitcake. A traditional Trinidad Christmas cake bears as much resemblance to that often derided concoction we know as a fruitcake here as a Rolls Royce to a battered Yellow taxicab.<br />
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It is black or almost black in color from the liquid "burnt sugar" used in the batter. I suppose the culinary term would be caramelized sugar, but it was always called burnt sugar when I was a kid and vied to lick the remnants of batter from the mixing bowl. It was always pure coarse brown cane sugar, burnt in a blackened cast iron pot. The raisins, currants, prunes, cherries, citron and other fruits the cake is made of blend into a heavenly aromatic dark mush after soaking for days in cherry brandy and rum. After baking the cake, more like a pudding in consistency is kept moist until eaten by more infusions of those spirits.<br />
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The thorough house cleaning, painting and varnishing, the presents Santa used to leave under the bed and the family under the Christmas tree, the Midnight Mass in the old parish church across the street, the merry crowds of family and friends, the lustily sung Christmas Carols, the toasting and the Christmas cake that signified Christmas, I have been separated from, except for this cake.<br />
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This afternoon as I enjoy a generous slice with my tea out here in the Pacific Northwest it will be a reunion of sorts with a joyful Christmas Past.<br />
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Thanks Dave and Sandra and a Very Merry Christmas to All.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVcuaWFKL4E8h3A9mTVxMEkBgJ5CMSqseIiC6PzKsvM7enjVnkHmSUAJaYhW4LjlU1oER2AOtYl6CR4JpXjsxNG08ckZ9Ui7jXVAMTiO75A7VBRcxx8wY0N6oQ-8SqU93KyDGr_qXFuHQ/s1600/_Xmas-2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVcuaWFKL4E8h3A9mTVxMEkBgJ5CMSqseIiC6PzKsvM7enjVnkHmSUAJaYhW4LjlU1oER2AOtYl6CR4JpXjsxNG08ckZ9Ui7jXVAMTiO75A7VBRcxx8wY0N6oQ-8SqU93KyDGr_qXFuHQ/s320/_Xmas-2010.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-5926821833201038752010-12-06T23:41:00.000-08:002010-12-06T23:41:08.134-08:00HawaiiSomewhere down on that beach my granddaughters were surfing on their boogie boards and no doubt planning to return as teenagers to join those people out there on real surfboards waiting to catch a big wave.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufk4QGTUDY2NMRziTJNBATVhJuy-7rDmdoUWSSd1lv41mM8caehOTNlWLZNQYK_qzuqAc7vz4RlRTzHsgwfW0m-RzFVJelvF-1npT8MzIDenU0DgOx4zL9VSZ_bTU_wpO3sB4BRuWdBXv/s1600/IMG_1014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufk4QGTUDY2NMRziTJNBATVhJuy-7rDmdoUWSSd1lv41mM8caehOTNlWLZNQYK_qzuqAc7vz4RlRTzHsgwfW0m-RzFVJelvF-1npT8MzIDenU0DgOx4zL9VSZ_bTU_wpO3sB4BRuWdBXv/s320/IMG_1014.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<i>My</i> surfing was taking place just a block away on the landward side of this same beach, at the WiFi hotspot outside the Apple store in Waikiki. At the end of the day the girls could show off their new tans. I had my e-mails saved on my iPad. Hey, both activities are "surfing", right?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiym5La9H1l17iRsxgpKrz24x_hZsc4loy2UMey7BC_5yTUl_BTcvyckC5RAM3P1Fn6wbOqYrYtzy6KU7TLio3cOt1KLc26sXJSBpeTiAytQ-a0-V_Xdef7pmy-zPmKUUVz4bHlYW4791tV/s1600/IMG_0608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiym5La9H1l17iRsxgpKrz24x_hZsc4loy2UMey7BC_5yTUl_BTcvyckC5RAM3P1Fn6wbOqYrYtzy6KU7TLio3cOt1KLc26sXJSBpeTiAytQ-a0-V_Xdef7pmy-zPmKUUVz4bHlYW4791tV/s320/IMG_0608.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheh1_5K2vCIwsrEeGZy-bSYtLSGnzq0vZ71fQeBSAFGPEYjaE_iEXnzeuKeVzlCtOTJCuZWNSdkEfIzneOs8gF5psBdgStqeIRdpEs9XDDhZZQyDD2RS1dVJXqOsQulTYXHJezIUCN4k5Q/s1600/IMG_1026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheh1_5K2vCIwsrEeGZy-bSYtLSGnzq0vZ71fQeBSAFGPEYjaE_iEXnzeuKeVzlCtOTJCuZWNSdkEfIzneOs8gF5psBdgStqeIRdpEs9XDDhZZQyDD2RS1dVJXqOsQulTYXHJezIUCN4k5Q/s320/IMG_1026.jpg" width="320" /></a>It's a tourist ritual to hang out at Waikiki Beach to watch the Tropical sunset, all five minutes or so of it. The sun just plummets into the sea on the horizon usually in a spectacular display of color. Visitors from higher northern latitudes, accustomed to the long twilight there cannot help but marvel how there is no long transition from daylight to<br />
nighttime here. Sunset is like throwing a switch, with just that magnificent spark as day and night break contact.<br />
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</div>Then the hotels illuminate their palm trees:<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDzvK9yb1CJAUMNc2oJ6QCTgma6L-oNLbTam8uZt57BT1g08ABraj_U54FsWZU6VN9WeSSxq4QHOjiKCd74OIVqSZWqC5Tt3YOM176F8HDg4Xu59CiLBwwZKSTuF1xTcCY2iQKTuRGc7K/s1600/IMG_1061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDzvK9yb1CJAUMNc2oJ6QCTgma6L-oNLbTam8uZt57BT1g08ABraj_U54FsWZU6VN9WeSSxq4QHOjiKCd74OIVqSZWqC5Tt3YOM176F8HDg4Xu59CiLBwwZKSTuF1xTcCY2iQKTuRGc7K/s320/IMG_1061.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
And a fire dancer energizes the crowds.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESXRNAYQ1aS_9_KLMjj8HwiTKnKlKScAEAR-v1ZvFZcFks9UVCUCmRqtVvx_Eb6EovJ783Jq6sQQNeSdcnlGD39p5sdSF8JrNejN11n4Qh_6_Y3XymHUXSEYLwbt8Lain64pOUSFm86Q_/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-12-06+at+11.30.39+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESXRNAYQ1aS_9_KLMjj8HwiTKnKlKScAEAR-v1ZvFZcFks9UVCUCmRqtVvx_Eb6EovJ783Jq6sQQNeSdcnlGD39p5sdSF8JrNejN11n4Qh_6_Y3XymHUXSEYLwbt8Lain64pOUSFm86Q_/s320/Screen+shot+2010-12-06+at+11.30.39+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-68089677252608279932010-11-27T00:53:00.000-08:002010-11-27T00:53:45.548-08:00Letters from Port-of-Spain<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I have twice had discussions with personnel at airports about whether the place of my birth, Trinidad, so named by Christopher Columbus more than 500 years ago, exists or ever existed. These were serious discussions as my being allowed to board planes depended on my credibility. </span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The first such discussion was with an airline representative at the check in counter in Los Angeles who thought the destination on my ticket, Port of Spain, Trinidad, was a mistake. He could accept my transit point, Miami, but he was incredulous when I insisted that Port of Spain was an actual city and that Trinidad was a country. Eventually with a “That must be a new place” shrug he completed my check in.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The second discussion fortunately took place many years before the paranoia that followed the hijackings of September 11, 2001, as I was about to enter a plane in Amsterdam for the flight back to the USA of which I had already been a citizen for most of my life. In those days there were occasional hijackings, usually to divert a plane from Cuba to the USA from its scheduled destination. The hijacker usually didn’t have any further interest in the passengers or plane once it landed. Violence was rare.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Whenever a hijacking occurred there would be some increased security procedures at airports in the area. Such was the situation in Amsterdam, and in this case the procedure was stationing two or three US security agents at podiums at the entrance to the jetway to planes bound for this country. The job of these agents was to form a psychological profile of each passenger depending on the kind of answers they gave to apparently random questions. My last question was where was I born? So I said “Trinidad”. My inquisitor shot back : “I mean the country where you were born.” He repeatedly just would not accept “Trinidad”, until it occurred to me to direct him to the information printed on my wellworn US passport. I know how <i>I</i> silently profiled his knowledge. I don’t how he profiled me, but I am thankful that those were the days before people got put on “No Fly” lists. Who knows, I might still be languishing in some holding facility in Amsterdam, a man without a country. Nice melodramatic thought, no?</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD17Bu10VObQ66R6eKJ0m2JVa_vkZgQPqozCMlZ4P9_RzL0afay69tK2a9DNXh2MBgNWEmbZ9TsyJNVeHyaZPWtPTu9UAlKWm0_IYak-21VjqsifraY372J9vx9zOvCtsy-sklmoiHlGxY/s1600/IMG_0997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD17Bu10VObQ66R6eKJ0m2JVa_vkZgQPqozCMlZ4P9_RzL0afay69tK2a9DNXh2MBgNWEmbZ9TsyJNVeHyaZPWtPTu9UAlKWm0_IYak-21VjqsifraY372J9vx9zOvCtsy-sklmoiHlGxY/s320/IMG_0997.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A recently published book <i>Letters From Port of Spain</i> by Ric (Ricardo) Hernandez will help convince any post-Google skeptics in a most gentlemany, erudite way that Trinidad, or to give it its present full political name: The Republic of Trinidad and Tobago, does actually exist and has existed for some time. Expats like Ric and myself remember it as a delightful island with a highly educated, ambitious and courteous population. As another Trinidad expat put it in an e-mail recently, it was an island where “being nice” was appreciated and where people responded to “niceness” “like flowers turning towards the sun”.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The content and style of Ric’s writing reflect that, “<i>niceness</i>” being not syrupy triviality but a preference for sincere family and social ties, beauty, refinement, kindness, wisdom and knowledge.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I came across Ric Hernandez’ writing by chance when I read one of his weekly columns in the online edition of the newspaper, <i>The Trinidad Express</i>. His style stood head and shoulders above the usual fare. I enjoyed them as essays, in form and content erudite, articulate, with the sophistication of a writer who was well read, well educated, well traveled and had a very wide knowledge and understanding of the world.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I was very disappointed when he stopped writing those columns and I wrote to the Editor of the newspaper to say so. I copied that e-mail to Ricardo and so began our cyber correspondence. In September of this year I had the pleasure of actually meeting him and his wife Janice in person here in Seattle. At that time he showed me the proof copy of his book <i>Letters from Port-of-Spain</i> in which he has collated those columns. The book was just published and I am happily reading the copy I received from Barnes and Noble.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Many of the “letters” are recollections of life in the Trinidad of Ric’s and my childhood, adolescence and early adulthood. Others reflect his profound interest in literature. My reading will be interrupted for a few days while I am away from home but I look forward to continuing to read <i>Letters from Port-of-Spain</i> especially on those Winter days by my fireside that are made for nostalgia.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A week has elapsed since I wrote the above paragraph and as if to encourage me to delve right in again to<i> Letters from Port-of-Spain</i>, Nature greeted me with the residue of a snow storm as my plane landed in Seattle from sunny Hawaii. </span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-90455447453737560442010-11-09T16:51:00.000-08:002010-11-09T16:54:18.352-08:00BeignetsThe last time (and the first) that I tasted beignets was back in the 1970's in the city famous for them, New Orleans. Beignets are a deep fried pastry, like a doughnut without the hole, but it should be illegal to call a New Orleans <i>Beignet</i> a doughnut.<br />
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Recently my 11 year old granddaughter developed a serious interest in cooking, and has been assiduously learning how to cook. One of the things she has taught herself to make is Beignets. She had set aside some for me from her first batch, but her parents and sister ate them all up, over her protests. She and I agreed that my portion from her next batch would be protected at all costs.<br />
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True to her word last Saturday night she got her Dad to rush her over here to my home with a fresh batch.<br />
She literally ran up the stairs with them, although that was partly because she couldn't wait to pass them to me so she could get to my iPad.<br />
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Weren't they delicious!<br />
She had made some with bananas, some with blueberries and some were rolled in confectioner's sugar. The ones that survived my first gorging have been eaten with a steaming cup of tea the last several rainy afternoons.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0ilg9_1ttv88y9-ZN7y6qI2gTMgX48hHJN5sf05__Bw3UGfeAyecmoFQRbW_6Th8KBwxSBWauvNfWoyyQJxsJ9caQRQD-lewPWB7Q85KGC_SM5NDgkE3IMgc1mJL0I3_D-sqsmdsJqu4/s1600/My+Beignets+11-10+-+4a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl0ilg9_1ttv88y9-ZN7y6qI2gTMgX48hHJN5sf05__Bw3UGfeAyecmoFQRbW_6Th8KBwxSBWauvNfWoyyQJxsJ9caQRQD-lewPWB7Q85KGC_SM5NDgkE3IMgc1mJL0I3_D-sqsmdsJqu4/s320/My+Beignets+11-10+-+4a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Just wait till she introduces them to New Orleans!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr52rzbl7zBtAneiH_h1QQQxqpuV7nh62QJ0BtY-bxBIrgmBZSZrIOnS0lXwvGGyPmIXHEFFbFefgW0XT4Gk7FwqzqzsmTjt1qqVcIkBxkIuvq2gU5IYzFlTh7nKYJ4vW4IB75IjNM_3dU/s1600/Beignets+by+Maya+a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr52rzbl7zBtAneiH_h1QQQxqpuV7nh62QJ0BtY-bxBIrgmBZSZrIOnS0lXwvGGyPmIXHEFFbFefgW0XT4Gk7FwqzqzsmTjt1qqVcIkBxkIuvq2gU5IYzFlTh7nKYJ4vW4IB75IjNM_3dU/s320/Beignets+by+Maya+a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-46191743362520449792010-10-30T17:02:00.000-07:002010-10-30T17:46:26.814-07:00Fall in Budapest<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Short days, long evenings, low, gray skies, chill, damp rain: typical Fall weather wouldn’t change my routines when I had to go to work, raise kids and putter about with Do-it-yourself projects and maintenance around the house. </span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Now though I have to find things to do to keep the devil away from my idle hands that complain at the thought of being exposed to Fall weather. My iPad has come to my rescue and I can while away some time comfortably with it by my fireplace, an activity my whole body thanks me for and which keeps that devil at bay.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">For the past ten days or so I have been taking this sequence of screen shots of a corner of a park in Budapest that is scanned continuously by a webcam, observing the inexorable march of Fall reflected in the changing color of the trees and as they lose their dense foliage to become bare trunks and branches.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj3aVVW5ehdl6LveHjLusipgCkHQ5kSZht8CA1Rv4i_8wHK7RNI_pt9yytjcdEYRDmVBaiF-Sk8-ak4-TjRU8rCREiK4Fbj3ubbHaCMgfz1DchQzKkCi5cvPPWxb-6uo22Fky6VehfasF/s1600/Fall-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj3aVVW5ehdl6LveHjLusipgCkHQ5kSZht8CA1Rv4i_8wHK7RNI_pt9yytjcdEYRDmVBaiF-Sk8-ak4-TjRU8rCREiK4Fbj3ubbHaCMgfz1DchQzKkCi5cvPPWxb-6uo22Fky6VehfasF/s320/Fall-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">In the beginning, just a few pale reddish patches, still mostly green.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The reds are taking over and the green a paler shade.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">On this sunny day, the trees are ablaze with vivid red and golden leaves.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The reds are turning to brown and the leaves are beginning to fall away. Note the workers raking leaves.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Overnight most of the leaves have been stripped from the trees, most of the branches are bare and the grass is littered with fallen leaves.</span></div></span><br />
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</span></span></span></span></div></span>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-58038239260518500912010-10-26T23:37:00.000-07:002010-10-26T23:37:30.590-07:00Norwegian Cruise Lines Punished for Poor Treatment of Disabled<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I posted a<a href="http://louis-hopscotch.blogspot.com/2010/06/on-board-norwegian-cruise-lines-star-to.html"> blog</a> following a cruise to Alaska on board the Norwegian Cruise Line’s Star in July in which I complained about NCL’s shabby and inconsiderate treatment of passengers who required a wheelchair.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yesterday I felt vindicated and I admired our legal system for pressuring NCL to improve its service to its physically challenged passengers. As a result of a lawsuit brought by the US Justice Department on behalf of 9 handicapped passengers on an NCL ship on a cruise in Hawaii, NCL will have to compensate them a total of $100,000 and pay an additional $40,000 to the government as well as agree to making a number of improvements in the way it deals with handicapped passengers.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This is an excerpt from <a href="http://travel.usatoday.com/cruises/post/2010/10/norwegian-cruise-line-settlement-justice-department-disabilities/128630/1">the report in USA Today</a>:</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><u><br />
</u></div><div style="color: #333233; font: 22.0px Arial; line-height: 26.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Norwegian Cruise Line to pay $100,000 to nine disabled passengers who alleged discrimination</b></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">By <a href="http://content.usatoday.com/topics/reporter/Gene+Sloan"><span style="font: 13.0px Arial; letter-spacing: 0.0px color: #0c25a6; text-decoration: underline;">Gene Sloan</span></a>, USA TODAY</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; line-height: 12.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><img alt="pastedGraphic.pdf" src="webkit-fake-url://A579511A-CD39-46EB-9547-6E137F2ED000/pastedGraphic.pdf" /></div><div style="color: white; font: 10.0px Arial; line-height: 12.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 11.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">Courtesy Norwegian Cruise Line</span></div><div style="color: #666666; font: 10.0px Arial; line-height: 12.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Norwegian Cruise Line has agreed to pay $100,000 to nine cruisers with disabilities who allegedly were discriminated against on one of its ships.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The U.S. Justice Department, which announced the settlement on Monday, had sued the line on behalf of the cruisers, five of whom are deaf and four of whom use wheelchairs.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The Justice Department says in a statement that the five deaf cruisers did not receive interpreters and other auxiliary aids, or a closed caption TV, while on voyages around Hawaii on a Norwegian ship, and "thus were unable to enjoy the activities on board the ship or the shore excursions because they could not understand what was going on and communicate effectively."</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The agency says the four cruisers who use wheelchairs did not get accessible buses between the airport, ship and hotel, and on shore excursions; had to wait hours for an accessible bus at times; were unable to go on shore excursions because of the lack of an accessible bus; were charged extra for accessible transportation; and/or were not allowed to get on and off the bus during a shore excursion even though the bus was accessible.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The Justice Department sued Norwegian under the Americans with Disabilities Act.</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And f<a href="http://news.travel.aol.com/2010/10/26/norwegian-cruise-line-ordered-to-improve-services-for-disabled-t/">rom AOL news:</a></span></div><div style="font: 13.0px Arial; line-height: 16.0px; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="color: #555555; font: 34.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Norwegian Cruise Line Ordered to Improve Services for Disabled Travelers</b></span></div><div style="color: #0c25a6; font: 16.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px color: #555555;">by <a href="http://news.travel.aol.com/bloggers/fran-golden/"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px color: #0c25a6; text-decoration: underline;"><b>Fran Golden</b></span></a> <a href="http://news.travel.aol.com/bloggers/fran-golden/rss.xml"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px color: #0c25a6; text-decoration: underline;">Subscribe to Fran Golden's posts</span></a></span></div><div style="color: #555555; font: 16.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #555555; font: 16.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Posted Oct 26th 2010 10:47 AM</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><img alt="pastedGraphic_1.pdf" src="webkit-fake-url://A579511A-CD39-46EB-9547-6E137F2ED000/pastedGraphic_1.pdf" /></div><div style="color: #555555; font: 16.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px color: #0c25a6; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://www.ncl.com/">Norwegian Cruise Line</a></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> has agreed to pay nine passengers $100,000 and a civil fine of $40,000 to resolve a lawsuit under the Americans with Disabilities Act. </span></div><div style="color: #555555; font: 16.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 20.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="color: #555555; font: 16.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The consent decree, filed by the Justice Department in federal court in Miami, settles complaints that NCL did not provide adequate services for five deaf or hard of hearing passengers and four passengers in wheelchairs who took cruises in the Hawaiian islands.</span></div><div style="color: #555555; font: 16.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 20.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="color: #555555; font: 16.8px Arial; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">NCL also agreed to "ensure that individuals who are deaf or hard of hearing get the auxiliary aids and services they need..</span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-82086952238815831772010-10-16T23:50:00.000-07:002010-10-16T23:50:30.665-07:00Costa Maya, Mexico<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When I travel I tell myself I am not a tourist because tourists in my mind do silly things like adopt silly poses with dignified statues. But here I am doing just that, in Costa Maya, on the Caribbean coast of Mexico. </span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9DbipAYEHOoBQxJpVoTrk93M1XmC55Wucfnql3FaT_Lv6HaOKgB06cB0fGVNeTRA9Sg8ZmXfyD3AMEXmSoUckTrlMd91PRmPp_6UwP8eHDnqzVc3PPH_dvGic95nnzNj6WQskdr55yyHg/s1600/IMG_1268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9DbipAYEHOoBQxJpVoTrk93M1XmC55Wucfnql3FaT_Lv6HaOKgB06cB0fGVNeTRA9Sg8ZmXfyD3AMEXmSoUckTrlMd91PRmPp_6UwP8eHDnqzVc3PPH_dvGic95nnzNj6WQskdr55yyHg/s320/IMG_1268.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I must remember that when I do stuff like this I must take another picture of the statue without me because embarrassingly I could not Photoshop myself out of this one and only picture I have of this representation of the Mayan figure Chacmool who guards the entrance to this faux Mayan shopping plaza. But Costa Maya is purely and simply made for tourists. It is a collection of tourist facilities at the end of a long, unadorned concrete jetty for cruise ships, </span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhftFWu0uwtPHx0P8rj699YALdpHsS0xY8ocgmu631oUx-ej-wakYKEb7rBmoPasFYUkYDiWdfDLuYsUeV8-iZCuCNj-CHDBEpnAfkjOmVGLWgFZ61y4rjnPUHwfXfN5sa0YEoqMzKy5a/s1600/IMG_1305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhftFWu0uwtPHx0P8rj699YALdpHsS0xY8ocgmu631oUx-ej-wakYKEb7rBmoPasFYUkYDiWdfDLuYsUeV8-iZCuCNj-CHDBEpnAfkjOmVGLWgFZ61y4rjnPUHwfXfN5sa0YEoqMzKy5a/s320/IMG_1305.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">long strips of white sandy or rocky beaches and cabanas </span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">A port of call carved out of the extensive featureless jungle beyond.<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQLzNC0iZ7uU98pOTHoGbwSWX8efwNgJBFmAulYtfwTBM0BbnLeZTNNrAGbNphJVyN29f6zp5IH3PWgLOtd-b2fIOBJlqpMrXqc06N7KzkdSe-uF0XM-yaBnO-sRJW87Cn5IKQ5udbd3O/s1600/IMG_1296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQLzNC0iZ7uU98pOTHoGbwSWX8efwNgJBFmAulYtfwTBM0BbnLeZTNNrAGbNphJVyN29f6zp5IH3PWgLOtd-b2fIOBJlqpMrXqc06N7KzkdSe-uF0XM-yaBnO-sRJW87Cn5IKQ5udbd3O/s320/IMG_1296.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
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</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1889_TqPklhX262Qb9aCdnHPpxNP9iUv88MciGHc248ApD7ruEvlLzCvFIIbYel1mW5WK6dXPWB4AqpqbmZ0BEF0UFNNJMnWFkuweAPi0GXFSWmdSLDz3lB_NmPTXtzE7M9IsmoGqBpc/s1600/IMG_1301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1889_TqPklhX262Qb9aCdnHPpxNP9iUv88MciGHc248ApD7ruEvlLzCvFIIbYel1mW5WK6dXPWB4AqpqbmZ0BEF0UFNNJMnWFkuweAPi0GXFSWmdSLDz3lB_NmPTXtzE7M9IsmoGqBpc/s320/IMG_1301.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There are two villages within some miles of Costa Maya and some unexplored small Mayan sites in the jungle, but those are largely beyond the reasonable reach of a cruise passenger who has only a few hours on shore.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So one does touristy things.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sightseeing here is simple and two-way: from the ship you look with envy and impatience at the white sand, colorful buildings, thatched cabanas and the warm clean surf lapping at the shore at the other end of the dock. From the white sandy beach and thatched cabanas you look at your ship at the other end of the dock and think of the splendour of life at sea. </span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjJX1raw9dl8mZcwKvjFqL2r9LOPERuWHV7ohot0mPls45v_SV5MWxTkYXVjOq8agKrkjnwnCoV9yx5p2mI0yC1VIWvHbIBrV7_gfemuF7WSAsSd8bH2EXGrhokKYzjjsdtejfdFUb05z/s1600/IMG_1275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjJX1raw9dl8mZcwKvjFqL2r9LOPERuWHV7ohot0mPls45v_SV5MWxTkYXVjOq8agKrkjnwnCoV9yx5p2mI0yC1VIWvHbIBrV7_gfemuF7WSAsSd8bH2EXGrhokKYzjjsdtejfdFUb05z/s320/IMG_1275.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In between you pose with Chacmool, perhaps with a shiver down your spine recall that in the days of the Mayas, it is thought, sacrificial human hearts would be placed on that tablet on his stomach.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Or you visit this replica, on a much smaller scale, of a Mayan pyramid of the kind that are found all over Mexico.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Pretend to be scared by this fierce jaguar, an important figure in Mayan culture.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIxaX0eNYnPS4CXdcRED75jDA61mX86zYhAvK5W7Yfbypa2OPWJxLsIOEk_3gzeP8n7jEqRX7GWpuhk2vP8NualiuTr8PHfy5x_etS4lzZWhTKw_hqc1nuD0i-zk9ceQPm6Su45gWPrAL/s1600/IMG_1270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIxaX0eNYnPS4CXdcRED75jDA61mX86zYhAvK5W7Yfbypa2OPWJxLsIOEk_3gzeP8n7jEqRX7GWpuhk2vP8NualiuTr8PHfy5x_etS4lzZWhTKw_hqc1nuD0i-zk9ceQPm6Su45gWPrAL/s320/IMG_1270.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A Mayan style arch forms the entrance to a shopping mall with the customary souvenir stalls.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCbPkVt9qNw-VM_SOzzz_yDwWSzrjtPobH_LZg-FzUopZ8fSRAnUAeJ7EhJjoOI22E0OycH6zUkJ0cxeyUDqg304QWwgfdbbCy6hdN9cqMimAugc7QNZcmYco1Us1CuTkzKEUHdVbXucn9/s1600/IMG_1271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCbPkVt9qNw-VM_SOzzz_yDwWSzrjtPobH_LZg-FzUopZ8fSRAnUAeJ7EhJjoOI22E0OycH6zUkJ0cxeyUDqg304QWwgfdbbCy6hdN9cqMimAugc7QNZcmYco1Us1CuTkzKEUHdVbXucn9/s320/IMG_1271.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_KUsE8YrEgtps1VdIIOwRuixva-660Qt3S2EYVoM86eSu51-MF-lb9JeFxIW-T8Dwym1ZM8z-yYMs-l2q74wmV8Ctw71fWCPMRhSPI29OGCC8fAxn9ahEWziL8NmH5PXE2aZMkRf0Uh1/s1600/IMG_1274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_KUsE8YrEgtps1VdIIOwRuixva-660Qt3S2EYVoM86eSu51-MF-lb9JeFxIW-T8Dwym1ZM8z-yYMs-l2q74wmV8Ctw71fWCPMRhSPI29OGCC8fAxn9ahEWziL8NmH5PXE2aZMkRf0Uh1/s320/IMG_1274.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You might be lucky to catch an outdoor folkloric dance at this plaza.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9RoE_Fbxps7Gdhhz07E1cgYmiyIg9daAHMYPxvzMOzJ4gz7vP7F-_hw8pXFA37IWWn0kU2qi4p7mGhnhX-GCda7ByKODRj4pBej_idLs2MutZBFMTqAeSwSKw4Oj2ku92ZiGeur6LGyD/s1600/IMG_1288.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK9RoE_Fbxps7Gdhhz07E1cgYmiyIg9daAHMYPxvzMOzJ4gz7vP7F-_hw8pXFA37IWWn0kU2qi4p7mGhnhX-GCda7ByKODRj4pBej_idLs2MutZBFMTqAeSwSKw4Oj2ku92ZiGeur6LGyD/s320/IMG_1288.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Or take in the vivid colors of the various buldings.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMLNqos_QhbqP7lpVQK-zzU2HCJbPMFMSHvzD8DVNqRy9HKm_s0n0LZzf0WhrFMXEZlXoW2_lUyX3yW_C6OYA60RdKR-CKfyXfs8PLvfsUXb2dcg5y5SBwOilEZjap5mYmjWr5oIpj2zQ/s1600/IMG_1276.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMLNqos_QhbqP7lpVQK-zzU2HCJbPMFMSHvzD8DVNqRy9HKm_s0n0LZzf0WhrFMXEZlXoW2_lUyX3yW_C6OYA60RdKR-CKfyXfs8PLvfsUXb2dcg5y5SBwOilEZjap5mYmjWr5oIpj2zQ/s320/IMG_1276.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When your sightseeing’s all done, this oversized bottle of Mexican beer may persuade you to slake your thirst. ¡Bienvenidos, amigos!</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzBvsnEg1pAMQZ92pKrmDocVWu5QfkQGX7ccsNJ90Htmea8VnimCNVMqh0rY7ysxmSYQGYb0b0_ZmkA3ca2Lnw1cuuj4SaFMK6TkatI87_spPjJByjlYJE_mxNuVCiDjZukkOQqzpGyBI/s1600/IMG_1281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzBvsnEg1pAMQZ92pKrmDocVWu5QfkQGX7ccsNJ90Htmea8VnimCNVMqh0rY7ysxmSYQGYb0b0_ZmkA3ca2Lnw1cuuj4SaFMK6TkatI87_spPjJByjlYJE_mxNuVCiDjZukkOQqzpGyBI/s320/IMG_1281.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-85617693079501061212010-10-12T17:00:00.000-07:002010-10-12T17:03:57.255-07:00Fall and the Cayman Islands<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Usually “Fall” as in Autumn refers to the red, golden, brown and yellow leaves falling to the ground and carpeting it with their rich colors. This Sunday afternoon though it just refers to the rain that has been falling all day from the low, overcast sky.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">No wonder my mind turned to sunny beaches and taunted me with visions of the Cayman Islands, Cozumel, Costa Maya and Roatan, those Tropical ports of my recent cruise. I had written about Roatan then forgot all about posting about the other ports, mostly because I didn’t get off the ship at the others so I didn’t take any pictures on shore. In my reverie this afternoon I remembered that I had some pictures from a previous trip. It took some fishing around in my files to find them because I couldn’t remember what year I had visited them. Time has become such a blur.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzI0KVHGp_btR5uf7rIvJhJDyppenQnyAgKptdqQ-LbIc8a2wWARrF__uP1E6vfJ1I2KWMAXC-ZoXroo_LaJ3re25M5roEgvj0W5Wean0X6cGAE8cdS9p0-WUzpEr56ohDJMurzCSAbM18/s1600/Places+software.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzI0KVHGp_btR5uf7rIvJhJDyppenQnyAgKptdqQ-LbIc8a2wWARrF__uP1E6vfJ1I2KWMAXC-ZoXroo_LaJ3re25M5roEgvj0W5Wean0X6cGAE8cdS9p0-WUzpEr56ohDJMurzCSAbM18/s200/Places+software.png" width="200" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">When I saved those pictures my older computer software just put them into folders which I labelled with the year. I have not yet transferred them to my current catalog which tags my photos in several different ways making it easy to retrieve them. My favorite is the Place tag that brings up a map of the world with a stick pin indicating places where I have taken pictures. Click on a pin and those pictures appear on the screen.My next camera should automatically do that tagging.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A pirate might greet you in George Town, capital of the Cayman Islands, but he will be a friendly fellow and instead of plundering you he will be offering great prices at a Duty Free store.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ArskKjrL7uWuwp8FEIgKYLbCu5ezAr_E9a7aQkSqO8S5B6h4DuXrXw6hPQc1hubwFonlp9Q0aI7uVQiwiF5jmAJy93_ul9z1oX9gB8uNKa9447ESN-xHbm5_Uzq5mLPq4ktQ_DtOuuQr/s1600/IMG_1442.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ArskKjrL7uWuwp8FEIgKYLbCu5ezAr_E9a7aQkSqO8S5B6h4DuXrXw6hPQc1hubwFonlp9Q0aI7uVQiwiF5jmAJy93_ul9z1oX9gB8uNKa9447ESN-xHbm5_Uzq5mLPq4ktQ_DtOuuQr/s320/IMG_1442.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">The real current buccaneers are just further down the street, in what seem like warrens of small offices in highrises. These are the “offshore banks”, havens for corporate and wealthy taxdodgers in the US, Europe and other big countries, politicians hiding nest eggs for when they are out of power, and money launderers. I never knew there were so many Irish banks, for example. Don’t look for counters and bank tellers or local customers waiting to cash a check in these places. These buccaneers are affable, young, college graduates, mostly expats armed with laptops, cellphones and degrees in finance, not cutlasses. And they are well-dressed. No bandanas. At the time unregulated Reaganesque and Bushian hedge funds and other wealth-from-nothing financial schemes were bubbling along nicely in the US and these offshore banks were flourishing. I wasn’t tempted to go ashore this time to stock up on the duty free cognacs and whiskey because you can no longer take liters of liquids as hand luggage onboard the flights home and it’s risky to pack bottles in your manhandled checked luggage, but I was tempted to go to see how many of those “banks” were out of business on this cruise.</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">Perhaps it’s fitting that just a short drive from these financial operations takes the traveller to Hell:</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBEqa9baLlL6_i3feJeFUPgr5dFKnE2C8Gv-qTVVlhcW4l6Xms4ZINyYWhbPxTXcGYDEv1B6MNa-K5DV0CUzanCDlBCnmNRg6OAOnc9rIhhhBoX_oYpTCUXjX4Mim_xkWsDZaH06t5VHF/s1600/IMG_1423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBEqa9baLlL6_i3feJeFUPgr5dFKnE2C8Gv-qTVVlhcW4l6Xms4ZINyYWhbPxTXcGYDEv1B6MNa-K5DV0CUzanCDlBCnmNRg6OAOnc9rIhhhBoX_oYpTCUXjX4Mim_xkWsDZaH06t5VHF/s320/IMG_1423.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Not a bad place at all in this tourist version. The only heat is from the glorious Tropical sun. No brimstone here, just a harmless interesting lava formation:</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdPypAPVlLIfhMuyTp4uHCpx8pHk1kbaSFfXjSXa9TsCYhS-QMSr0sXz0XLMbSArrnT3FkHGId3p8Wdx4A6P4OIyQ8E_lrZS0Sh8I8jcwGYuiYzrIizzVdYlu88G0Ln8qJg784TeJroSG/s1600/IMG_1420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdPypAPVlLIfhMuyTp4uHCpx8pHk1kbaSFfXjSXa9TsCYhS-QMSr0sXz0XLMbSArrnT3FkHGId3p8Wdx4A6P4OIyQ8E_lrZS0Sh8I8jcwGYuiYzrIizzVdYlu88G0Ln8qJg784TeJroSG/s320/IMG_1420.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">There are all the comforts of Paradise: lush greenery, magnificent multi-hued seas, beaches, swimming pools, airconditioned five star resorts, free samples of rum cake, even a post office (no need to wait for the Hungry Ghosts month to contact the folks).</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wm1DZWfCHxpXNc6brvGja5LF5-tf4UBz1htElyNVNmd03AzbMAdUApsb9Tvc0bjEi6pfCBSUg4cTQk8ov1-XaneCAqrBCDejxKZzGnqM5BnTgfvZ9qfL5hR5yJm_WOFZERWx6BEnXnWT/s1600/IMG_1415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wm1DZWfCHxpXNc6brvGja5LF5-tf4UBz1htElyNVNmd03AzbMAdUApsb9Tvc0bjEi6pfCBSUg4cTQk8ov1-XaneCAqrBCDejxKZzGnqM5BnTgfvZ9qfL5hR5yJm_WOFZERWx6BEnXnWT/s320/IMG_1415.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">You can assuage your environmental zeal by visiting the turtle conservation center:</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheL6rJqsxN_oM8VFJqRBceCujHwAe3OF-PuWF-y32kkHaZKDjT9VhnKJcACUpQsAMfI9YDWP_Xmr5OJUUNnvocBrkZfINdtgcY-mq5oA-uESjXTHpc15zTw5jjRQMHXYGHL4IYfibeHGqq/s1600/IMG_1433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheL6rJqsxN_oM8VFJqRBceCujHwAe3OF-PuWF-y32kkHaZKDjT9VhnKJcACUpQsAMfI9YDWP_Xmr5OJUUNnvocBrkZfINdtgcY-mq5oA-uESjXTHpc15zTw5jjRQMHXYGHL4IYfibeHGqq/s320/IMG_1433.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwdQNiWDM-h78d5KrSS85YTxpcFwn0YE-bOFBSgasiT8nd6LavoBvu1m2445TcA8AJITBvE6ZMQ_F2VNpWZbYTGPJJFD0XehC0HKuHii4UZR-GvWaT0-e_4KBRVmQQv1XbhxX5rnJI8Yb/s1600/IMG_1439.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwdQNiWDM-h78d5KrSS85YTxpcFwn0YE-bOFBSgasiT8nd6LavoBvu1m2445TcA8AJITBvE6ZMQ_F2VNpWZbYTGPJJFD0XehC0HKuHii4UZR-GvWaT0-e_4KBRVmQQv1XbhxX5rnJI8Yb/s320/IMG_1439.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">or just pick up shells on the beach.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-_h7tTy9Q1fR6q_Qeg8NN1s5W7Tc8Zqww8wXHKRe-y0ZXSSZFTzFOvxKWGJlug43ncKTJaQ7GenEBhoQEWqv3bQr-lO3QnoNItMGk_UMHFERLb51LMLx9cXV_YuNHmie678hMvSStefz/s1600/IMG_1447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-_h7tTy9Q1fR6q_Qeg8NN1s5W7Tc8Zqww8wXHKRe-y0ZXSSZFTzFOvxKWGJlug43ncKTJaQ7GenEBhoQEWqv3bQr-lO3QnoNItMGk_UMHFERLb51LMLx9cXV_YuNHmie678hMvSStefz/s320/IMG_1447.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;">The ultimate in peaceful coexistence, Hell and a Tropical Paradise?<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-33802449787962164892010-09-23T14:17:00.000-07:002010-09-23T14:17:44.888-07:00Man Overboard<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYREcxmPDXnEbYX1XWv58qPaZUuGsCFfLGh7re4WDkcINgZRDu4slaZNElmTSWrkthcWtl6Jb8UJYaC9JzvmL3g5NIF9EeUa2m-FFHaqH6fJI9Fg4yA83ViY3xsVOSUeJEQCvt5Da0wMVc/s1600/Man+Overboard.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520217693450755010" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYREcxmPDXnEbYX1XWv58qPaZUuGsCFfLGh7re4WDkcINgZRDu4slaZNElmTSWrkthcWtl6Jb8UJYaC9JzvmL3g5NIF9EeUa2m-FFHaqH6fJI9Fg4yA83ViY3xsVOSUeJEQCvt5Da0wMVc/s320/Man+Overboard.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A few of my siblings and I were having a relaxed conversation in the almost deserted restaurant of our cruise ship, the Solstice, some time after midnight when there was a terse message over the Public Address system:</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">“Man overboard. Starboard side”</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">No exclamation marks in transcribing it, because it was delivered very calmly.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It took a few moments for the implication of that matter of fact statement to sink in. There was someone all alone out in that blackness fighting for his life. Someone who just a short time before had probably been watching the entertainment along with us in the theater, who was one of the hundreds of cheerful passengers on this glittering ship. At this very moment he, or she was drifting farther and farther away down there tossed wildly by the choppy sea.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">We all scattered to our staterooms. Mine was on the starboard side. I went out on to my verandah and instantly I became a witness to the drama of the search for the man overboard.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">There was no distnguishing the sea from the sky. Everything beyond the glow of the lights along the hull of the ship was total blackness. The strong wind wailed like a banshee as it squeezed through the crack in the sliding glass door that I had not latched behind me. The sea was in turmoil, waves chopping the surface in all directions, their tops whipped into surging whitecaps. Occasionally in the distance where the horizon should be flashes of lightning gashed the blackness momentarily silhouetting enormous turbulent cumulus clouds.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As my eyes adjusted to the dark I could see two tiny lights, far away, the beacons of a lifeboat that had been sent out to search. An intense beam of light from a powerful searchlight from the bridge up front shot out towards the tiny beacons. It swept that area for a while then seemed to fix itself on one spot while the ship very slowly moved in wide arcs back and forth.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">A coded announcement “For the crew: Oscar, Oscar, Oscar.. (I couldn’t distinguish the rest)” suddely broke the silence. I could hear a small fast boat slapping across the waves as it sped away from the ship towards the beacons of the lifeboat.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">On the lifeboat deck far below my verandah I could see crewmen readying an open utility boat for launching over the side.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">After a while the ship’s horn sounded once. It must have signalled confirmation of a message from the lifeboat out there in the dark.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The launch crew below sprang into action. They were purposeful and disciplined but the wind, the rocking and plunging of both the ship and the small boat dangling by cables from the winches made this operation very dangerous. All of those crew were risking their lives. They could be crushed between the ship and the boat or thrown overboard.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Before the utility boat was lowered into the water, an officer dressed in a white tunic, carrying a black kit got on board. He must have been the ship’s doctor. I imagine it would be his job to either assist a survivor or certify the victim dead. In either event it indicated the impossible had been accomplished: the man overboard had been found in that black malestrom.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Getting the utlity boat into the water was a feat of seamanship and courage. Not only was there the danger as it swung from its cables threatening to smash itself against the ship’s hull, but as it neared the water, large waves kept tossing it upwards then left it dangling in their troughs. It was like trying to break a wild stallion.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The difficulties and danger didn’t end when the boat was cast off. Evidently the objective was to speed to the lifeboat, but going fast in the turbulent water put the boat at risk. At times it would pitch up almost vertically and a moment later dive just as steeply. You could hear the thudding as it did so and the different pitch of the engine as the propeller at times came right out of the water. The sound of this contest between boat and sea continued after the boat disappeared into the darkness.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">More oficers and crew gathered expectantly on the lifeboat deck below as the sound of the returning utility boat with the doctor was heard. </span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Getting it back up onto the ship was as difficult as getting it into the water. The officer in the white tunic with the black kit stepped on to the deck. Then from the small enclosed part of the boat emerged two or three crew members carrying the survivor supporting him by his arms. He seemed unable to support himself, or reluctant to be brought on board, his bare feet dragging. He was dressed in a shirt and shorts.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Cheers broke out from observers in their verandahs.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It was amazing that anyone would survive out there, incredible that he would be found.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">As he was laid on a stretcher on the deck and taken away , he was hidden from my view by several crew members bending over him, but the great amount of activity seemed to indicate some sort of commotion.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At breakfast the rumors began to circulate.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It was obvious he had not fallen but jumped overboard. It requires a very determined effort to fall off a cruise ship.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">His going overboard must have been witnessed because the location had been quickly marked by a location device thrown into the water, and that helped account for the fact that he was found.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Who had observed him? One version was that the personnel monitoring the security cameras on the ship had seen him go overboard and immediately alerted the bridge. Another rumor claimed he did it in the presence of some passengers.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">It was rumored that he actually wore a life jacket as he jumped. As odd as that appears, considering that he hadn’t drowned in that turbulent sea and taken with another rumor, that he had resisted rescue (and I guessed that he was struggling to get free from his rescuers as they tried to help him off the utility boat and on to the stretcher) it would be consistent with the behavior of a mentally unbalanced person.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The fact that he was rescued was a tribute to the skill and professionality of the crew. Some of them had even unhesitatingly risked serious injury or death.</span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
</div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-58564529028777609222010-09-20T12:57:00.000-07:002010-09-20T14:16:43.945-07:00Western Caribbean Cruise<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZidtX6Cx00HpZ8MxseYhOYuvxCvIoH_TwEWdv5OgEfidtmWCuOGkQRJbJ71icjMXo42sO1uWsYxt3R9mJdrX7CRvC7H3hhWlLeDzVjZrmxqjpaCzLEUDL4na-lmXd8glhj-B4B_uBgdLs/s1600/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-2.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimqZAw7_G3HXq6TkAnWyaektSO-E2PBD2_X5KG_x47nQoI0bS8ahnxG5NcsCdTRvBsUIeGXcu4Lp2E9SKEXzWzc5g-puTQFn3E71uGIhkAJXg253beUYjmdy3f0OxdBwvodf7dsjI-Y84E/s1600/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimqZAw7_G3HXq6TkAnWyaektSO-E2PBD2_X5KG_x47nQoI0bS8ahnxG5NcsCdTRvBsUIeGXcu4Lp2E9SKEXzWzc5g-puTQFn3E71uGIhkAJXg253beUYjmdy3f0OxdBwvodf7dsjI-Y84E/s400/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519102895974099762" /></a><br />Usually on the morning after I return from a trip I call some of my siblings, who all live thousands of miles away and whom I don't see for years at a time, to let them know I am back home. That may be a habit motivated by inherited remnants of our mother's anxiety about our whereabouts and safety whenever we were not at home, and especially when we were travelling.<div><br /></div><div>I was about to instinctively reach for the phone when I realized that this time a call was not necessary. My siblings, with one exception, had accompanied me on this trip. We had finally been able to have an almost complete family reunion after more than ten years.</div><div><br /></div><div>A cruise seemed to be the best venue for this. We sailed out of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, a port that was as equidistant as possible for all of us. A gettogether for our family, as for most, I am sure, involves a lot of cooking, cleaning up and other busy work that severely reduces the amount of time for bonding and catching up on news. A cruise would eliminate all of that. If tensions arose, as also happens with family reunions, the gigantic ship, three football fields long, fifteen decks high and with a maze of restaurants, shops, theaters, lounges and other nooks and crannies would provide lots of places to hide. As an absolute and drastic last resort one could also jump overboard, as a passenger did one night (more of that later).</div><div><br /></div><div>The itinerary was the Western Caribbean, with calls at Georgetown, in the Cayman Islands, Cozumel and Costa Maya, Mexico, and new for me, Roatan, Honduras.</div><div><br /></div><div>That two hurricanes were churning about or developping in the Gulf of Mexico which we had to transit was cause for some concern even though with modern weather mapping ships have a lot of time to alter course to avoid dangerous conditions and will do so since no cruise line wants its ships full of seasick passengers. The magnificent weather we had at each port and most of the cruise emphasized that such concern was unnecessary.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's take a look first at Roatan, a small island belonging to Honduras where the vegetation in typical Tropical fashion is lush and colorful, the sea, even at the dock, is crystal clear, there's not a highrise in sight, enough infrastructure to show that there is no evident deprivation</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZidtX6Cx00HpZ8MxseYhOYuvxCvIoH_TwEWdv5OgEfidtmWCuOGkQRJbJ71icjMXo42sO1uWsYxt3R9mJdrX7CRvC7H3hhWlLeDzVjZrmxqjpaCzLEUDL4na-lmXd8glhj-B4B_uBgdLs/s400/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519103508134405906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsk3TC6RSHBQeFYkMT1y5yg7DAj-_Vqe3rq-RLKlx6d4tlJFJ6ZmuVbyKC7xRskbDM8Uf8z3HzWhC5PF1pwiPd30dw6661sMgmzrCXdC0o0ssrF0didVA3958MFWHGZS5aHGbPg2ytBI2A/s400/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519103516014645170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xapBHEjkPhMZgQEy-rZee-ytlGbuawLXFJEzEJofMdhE3bTtQqmiwiIYKh0A_VzyfiMKvRPxLHgMUEB52XpZfS7cOviBbfcPJV_vGPzdxvcmwSpBpI_A-yZat3dAY7V4uxw5-39tg28I/s400/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519103529361420114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVAYJwIRdfuQv-TZ7BVzCS-Liakq5SY0FTgQAh0IUdec0Jms27ckkKriCab8mi_NlIqZP0hyphenhyphenBpkmWctKjEKrudZW4ny7iruELfpNiE0N-ujFrCssOF41wWoKlr5ed77BiPyYW9NtFIGyLX/s400/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519104665901565970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></span></div><div> Roatan provided a friendly welcome with folk dancers in their elaborate dress dancing to lively traditional music. No intrusive security meant to make you feel like a potential terrorist. And immaculate duty free shops including one drugstore which offered generic versions of Viagra, among other medications, as well as genuine potato chips and sunscreen.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-r9HWqfFPuf3eGm3QYXDUut_sHhAZBvpfZjmmMP9PmKzetzdisVffxifyNUNRreeDHoOfhv00NsSXvnLoFGZhA7DwvD7DNCAMmNwSz3tGJOllYtcz83sjkCaCcTwzkaZImfjDiwZk7J-/s400/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519104649897269650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHU6FzHl98D9j0sjEeIIPGr61j73Ln-w9aF9eC9mH5mFzrB9_esMe2M4HuwiN6ItCR88uVkUl8cOykZORioW1dIhUxf8EjLCPluCpITgEZMRIhr5lC1jA0i30DR5-4P9bEodQz0DoG9Y5R/s400/Cruise+Carib.W%2710-7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519104675903249266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-63506674923896606672010-08-06T23:00:00.000-07:002010-08-06T17:07:06.796-07:00Wrong Side of the Digital Divide<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVpOvfMGLJ8WQ-awBZl9Qeta6osbzXp1svGIB6pDZwyrXBam_Xn6VEt9egvw-TbWKNWtKPi7tzQlFvD1v0lCUIojQsUrvh9AmijrdBiOTiP_kS8Yy4GD8FmDIqSLSAwWKWzT9J4Nv98TS/s1600/Digital+Divide.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVpOvfMGLJ8WQ-awBZl9Qeta6osbzXp1svGIB6pDZwyrXBam_Xn6VEt9egvw-TbWKNWtKPi7tzQlFvD1v0lCUIojQsUrvh9AmijrdBiOTiP_kS8Yy4GD8FmDIqSLSAwWKWzT9J4Nv98TS/s320/Digital+Divide.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502450974698850066" /></a><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">Having used personal computers since the introduction of the first Apples, and possessing a fair share of digital devices, I thought I was on the right side of the Digital Divide until my ten year old granddaughter showed me the tattoos on her arms last night.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">First a disclaimer: I believe, I hope, those tattoos are water soluble drawings, not etched permanently into her skin.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">There was a small tattoo on each arm, and together we admired them, she with glee, I with great uncertainty as to how to address her pride in them. So, I settled for a neutral approach, intending to merely describe them and use some humor. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The one on the left arm went well: we agreed it was the sun and that it was cheerful.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The tattoo on the right arm was a small circle with a couple of dots in the middle, and that was what made it clear I have not really crossed the new location of the Digital Divide.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I ventured that the symbol was a button. Immediately she jokingly pressed it with a finger. Now my intention was that we would banter about the incongruity of having a shirt button on one’s arm, but that connotation of “button” was lost on her. Instead, the first meaning of “button” that came to her mind was an icon on a computer screen that you tapped.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">To my generation, and even her parents’ generation, digital devices are accessories, used as needed for discrete purposes: work, e-mail, messaging, media. On the other hand her generation has incorporated digital devices seamlessly and pervasively into all aspects of their lives.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I had begun to notice that trend during the vists of my grandchildren. In the course of a typical visit, they tend to routinely weave five or six digital devices into normal social and personal interaction as easily and as naturally as they used speech, drawings, paper, pencils, crayons, stickers, scissors, tv, just a few years ago. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Want to play a game with them? Out comes the Nintendo Wii and they hand you a controller. Ask about their summer activities, they may show you an animation project they did on the computer. Remind them to do their homework, they go online. They eagerly share with you some cool App on their iPod Touch that you haven’t heard about and show you how to use it or play it. They will helpfully enter their new cell number in the address book on your phone . Give them an order for Girl Scout cookies, they send an e-mail to themselves on their laptop then later they send you an e-mail with the amount you owe. They discuss books they have read or downloaded. If you have a device they don’t, they explore it. A topic comes up in conversation and they delve into it with you with a Google search or a Podcast without a hiccup in the flow of conversation. Their music and videos are streamed to their mobile devices. Want to know what the new puppy looks like or who the current boyfriend is? Up pops a picture in Flickr while they describe them to you. Tell them that with your diminishing memory you may forget to send the DVD you promised them, they will say “No problem. I’ll text you”. You refer to some temperature or measurement in a form they don’t understand, they will convert it immediately online. Want to take them to their favorite pizza parlor but don’t know how to get there, they find a route for you on GPS. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">They don’t want a candy to take home anymore. They want your iPad.</span></p>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-72568641514365011812010-08-02T17:54:00.000-07:002010-08-02T18:10:38.113-07:00Shakespeare in the Park<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Q7kvzcFDswjTtn5IP2MJlqiAaL0p7G4__HiYor7DSDn1qySs3vaF4P45qheeq1n6f_7cyOZutUhdxATmx5Lub4uxyufV9Rs6NAjBPZsPUjll6WMrcNKHWBGz6_qJcb14MKVNx4zczWwr/s1600/DiscPk+Shakes-3.JPG"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2vUeb_lvmbOwzYUnHWb1SXmjNsDKOoM_ZWVRR83TRUsD4X9i5zqsqhbYPPr0RC3FL6oiwcs5_1G_QAM6kPxjQhWvBUZgvoYxWGMp8lBonGnnLbiCxcOT5iVc2sBSasqgngWjihrf1HD5/s1600/DiscPk+Shakes-1.jpg"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></u></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwPCg6p2m-ReFHgxTXwnRq6BBGdXWPW0ZIZZuRZsn5nqDF69kkZMGzYb4ouwOX89WyRAVY7hOli_nyY4DR20vouEinb3DAW_vWpph8RTTmUrFwPlnsF8xEGbifBKFME1WxA89dmtkNTzt/s1600/DiscPk+Shakes-5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwPCg6p2m-ReFHgxTXwnRq6BBGdXWPW0ZIZZuRZsn5nqDF69kkZMGzYb4ouwOX89WyRAVY7hOli_nyY4DR20vouEinb3DAW_vWpph8RTTmUrFwPlnsF8xEGbifBKFME1WxA89dmtkNTzt/s320/DiscPk+Shakes-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500980944557681426" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2vUeb_lvmbOwzYUnHWb1SXmjNsDKOoM_ZWVRR83TRUsD4X9i5zqsqhbYPPr0RC3FL6oiwcs5_1G_QAM6kPxjQhWvBUZgvoYxWGMp8lBonGnnLbiCxcOT5iVc2sBSasqgngWjihrf1HD5/s200/DiscPk+Shakes-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500981539065373554" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 116px; " /></span><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">On some Sunday afternoons in the summer, a small sandwichboard sign appears at the entrance to the park across the street from my house.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">It advertises a performance in the amphitheater there of a Shakespeare play later that afternoon.This Sunday’s performance is “Romeo and Juliet”.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilbwbOpHU15S5rPHJ7y9vP6ytOeFvyoyy3fpwiUAqL9JObFxQ4X2JmlBZJ58mXHk4eFCSn-yJQqfyhw4ESDOW1YkF7xYflvN8toq8vkqLxsPdaz6aWe-FDNkGEXyxdW0NuXg3hn8aryd3o/s200/DiscPk+Shakes-4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500981950211825490" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></span><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">Amphitheater may be somewhat of an exaggeration, given that the venue is not much more than a grassy clearing amidst the cedars in that section of the park, a small hollow where people will spread their blankets or set up folding chairs to watch the performance, where children can run off and swing or slide or romp in the playground right next to the venue, easily incorporating a Shakespearean play into thier children’s vigorous, noisy, fun activities. People strolling or cycling past along the trails will pause to look on then continue on their way.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Q7kvzcFDswjTtn5IP2MJlqiAaL0p7G4__HiYor7DSDn1qySs3vaF4P45qheeq1n6f_7cyOZutUhdxATmx5Lub4uxyufV9Rs6NAjBPZsPUjll6WMrcNKHWBGz6_qJcb14MKVNx4zczWwr/s200/DiscPk+Shakes-3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500982429615546994" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></span><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">That’s something I like about Seattle. So many of its functions blend so easily into everyday life that they seem spontaneous, uncontrived...even a Shakespearean performance. Romeo woos Juliet in the shade of a large cedar while a jetliner flies low overhead, Prospero and Caliban come to terms in their fantasyland while children </span>create their own fantasies in a playground a stone’s throw away without a thought of incongruity, without a stage, without a Box Office.</p><div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><br /></span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-20180201946266793182010-07-24T21:23:00.000-07:002010-07-24T22:25:04.204-07:00First Flight<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></div>I missed the first flight of one of the<a href="http://louis-hopscotch.blogspot.com/2010/07/for-birds.html"> the two fledgling storks</a>. I was just in time to see his tail as he left the nest.It seemed more as though he had fallen out of the nest rather than flown off, but I knew he could fly when he flew into the nest from off camera a few minutes later.<div><br /></div><div>Since then he has been away from the nest for a while every evening.</div><div><br /></div><div>The other stork seems very agitated when he is left alone and I wondered why he didn't do as his sibling and go joy-flying around.</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning, my time, evening his time, he flew. I don't know if it was his first flight, but it was an exciting moment for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>I will let the following sequence of pictures tell the story:</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkiNgwogDcqLYDWAVzUKDB_CsIXwPnIwprcLP9NWTdD8rg6lWpb8bBREIjk-Y3tuqxjlOcu9czUSy5F2i4IY4JmwRP05j6toch6B7TzH11v9-JmlVxNw_vpRvPFG1Tk7YpmxnQtvJmvDd/s320/IMG_0409.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497698687728217282" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSpEwBHH_OClwLaim3KZab4rD6oiEpR_NVBhecELWmZWhyphenhyphenpmS0y8sNXty67bjrvnL5CQGGmrjzXZ7-dwSLXZ9PadfFvVtqgK8G4LsYSi672Xo-_B4nazrkaUwXIn0IXV_PDjfvUn24YGm/s320/IMG_0410.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497698700100503634" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuzPh58cfK9DTfBNQfgmauBSpRsiHzZjifcXFqxx_JzAfAeZqAXJMx9SWEfGsq0KaPoRuat8ClJ7HpchM_63m2luOu_4SxBnkFHJfUJRwT1qC5FVVFbeZkgz1M3xheaJTVHkUAbjhHpJL/s320/IMG_0411.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497698708542683506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8y_HpaEmF7Lk11M2bX6he2LasFh-VPl2SlAkP3pSGameJ0diJPU45WrBkNUMydQwfyfGDAUwYyfDg3I7dbZioC2qro_3h-TGocFmk2toyMQHkCVyEGHsKWgSZdMGmrCgmQvLrWiAgqiu8/s320/IMG_0412.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497700085081785410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwC0dM2gjWP0jTN91sepB9dOfq9Ketdw80GOO4KG01HEmHQONM7Q_vqjrHpV5ncSfAigUruznw96iKBT-K3yDmjzANXTBox25ZmOsLl2lzA75kfEdHr5RT6Gcjcnm7YEjbNtuDSh-T6mUw/s320/IMG_0413.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497700080185988754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE64CGIiw12QL5EMA47nXWRhnZ4rfT8DEJ-8IXImeeqUInI7oIQq1YINT_2y6I4MNjy1sdwOnuAo3xrO-MYwbaU0iDUhyphenhyphenUslnG8vW-Gtlyjr3yJFLh879_OtWjz2sfB6ZXwkQm8YSmrmfO/s320/Storks+Sunset.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497701210130088738" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></span></div></span></span></span></span></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-49128788878994615582010-07-18T23:08:00.000-07:002010-07-19T00:06:32.100-07:00For the birds<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL63M9XwBgYduZUgC8ca3_EuaVKfgLja21GfFZ_GuF4WObPppSx_KtS2PRLp4RwchTzlqLFr5dkXkXQTWSSkEhdRuonW_cw1RpFqUw9uuYW5FqwqKTZAU4UP_zOa-Gi5OYGKQAVRfbZpDW/s1600/IMG_0039.jpg"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>In the nest on top of a chimney several storeys above the main street of the ancient town of Gengenbach in Germany, where they were hatched a few months ago, two young storks await their mother who will soon bring them their food.<div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKLgMlYc3seRlkI6NZ3J7z3ENYYanRL-LgUPoyMLkCo0vaHWOs-owoi7EgOzTA98DDHQm_wMlMuXf7QIoFDpdFWEq74Piu0ITL0OSULrTh7Ymz_cUVfukPMvjv7rIHAJrbZiY4G0qcfUq/s320/IMG_0221.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495503725947921922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><div><br /></div><div>I have been watching them through a webcam that that can be trained on them or on various other sights in the town below. It's a sight that I would not be able to enjoy if I were a tourist on the ground.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDoLrzAIux7TrFXlBgZM5aEh4LrmpuHwaed5-Gd4ijDELo3RC6X-ByNUT_UwzroRi1VsaNCDb-U4c7S_wdrSyPnPcKXN0-856JghCK3qpHWNB5rEJf_ZW-CmHyJI00E1higFQ4E_-Xb01k/s320/IMG_0303.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495504468363826418" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>These young storks are as large as their mother, and I marvel at how mindful of each other's space they seem to be. They barely fit in, or rather, on, their nest, which is more like a platform than a nest. No safety railings here. They could easily jostle each other out of the nest to their doom. When they spread their large wings, they seem to be mindful of where the other one is and so do not inadvertently knock each other off.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg8jxAmjLC0-4ImG7ZFiW4uMJpl4V7rTDCmlUxaCNIZedwQNSpyohK_-y6y8Wj1cjrhbwHohlhyphenhyphenMMiUak7yKdm_xXDKkUVqv64gl1CGuTgrq8p0I3ygSU-Ssy29_AiWTCM_e5sFYK7Cukn/s320/IMG_0305.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495504830535795762" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Patient watching rewarded with some amusing poses:</div><div><br /></div><div>One bird, four legs?</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5zdb05sSvDhqE2iRJ4-MKlePsk4i3HKam9ehiL-lgmIeFAz2Gw7tZkdOLCzXQq-d55LjEEbGGz5kDctJ9kblqylxqs-aeyuLH0ycEU9zjKHDbUGArhmuR7cPZkF28K9IMSzpGfJOBsYn/s320/IMG_0307.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495505148782126146" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Two birds, three beaks?</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8plzUNmBPzHqRkZb4CYNfWQFKbY0da1pWsszDpjpKJjg91_qFPyqBPLaaUrlslIpCUyy8YhZ4T5nPLn9wnHDV4YQBkfbkMUQYctJw0vluMTXz0VnNUVJrFr2ZBlSx3byKrRRwKCEOixPD/s320/IMG_0308.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495505371964648274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Two birds, one head?</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwxKcBbRsOGusdas-KaLWdooJ2vSY2RmMZk-UYLn4a3J55y3Vm087UYp0HcdZCuJSC8Cn6wwBXIQzodJcjfVIKPyiO9snMMAjXgBQ943eE-4B2ta9b4Hf2NjYWqxknMfXZVFxr1x-w03r9/s320/IMG_0309.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495505597261906034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Recently they have been spreading their wings preparing for flight</div><div><br /></div><div>Just after I snapped this screen shot, this stork, the larger of the two, rose straight up about a foot into the air as he experimented with flapping his wings. It happened too fast to capture that exciting event.</div><div><br /></div><div>One day soon they will take to the air on their maiden flight. I fervently hope I will witness that moment.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4DjzNePgTJSACLz-PTZw2F068pz6XBI13IMOWZh-b3KkIJoKVkGDjE7gZ5-bsGvxhLsCR7N7DLiTR00LtZSKM0aWHZvoxbhsaS8JDcxTeR6R2CHVTeGIp3VEHfz5hWBnsiMZqjRsGJRd/s320/IMG_0311.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495505785537195506" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>They will soar above the main street of Gengenbach</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL63M9XwBgYduZUgC8ca3_EuaVKfgLja21GfFZ_GuF4WObPppSx_KtS2PRLp4RwchTzlqLFr5dkXkXQTWSSkEhdRuonW_cw1RpFqUw9uuYW5FqwqKTZAU4UP_zOa-Gi5OYGKQAVRfbZpDW/s320/IMG_0039.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495506741210666418" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Perhaps someone in the market in front of the Rathaus (Townhall) will look up and spot them:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKA5OUUr85F4b6FmIC_wXmg7Rko3vpHbSH7ltzwKs2aD4vzxNdnOs9U9kh0axsI23_SFaSMYIjH65k3M0Hw4imhHSlAfYNAtCq7MpXROPfNSN1tmakC9y7vUGuk5f8zJ22TqvEWY0bmxTr/s320/IMG_0134.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495506961088417378" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Then they will go about their mission of delivering babies all over the world. No? Well, that was what I was taught in those days when that was as much sex education as you got officially.</div><div><br /></div></div></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-35073706541184415332010-07-14T22:45:00.000-07:002010-07-14T23:07:23.096-07:00A Bird's Eye ViewThe other day as I was flipping through my favorite live webcams doing my armchair travel, one of the cameras seemed to be obstructed. Odd, because that camera is located high above the city in a building, probably a tower, so it wasn't likely a person would be standing in its line of view.<br /><br />There was a slight movement and the bird, whose back I had been seeing, turned its head to the left and solved my puzzle. This bird had perched right in front of the camera.<br /><br />I realized that both the bird and I were looking down from the same vantage point on the Medieval city of Kuressaare, Estonia, below. He seemed to be gesturing me to take a look and share what he was seeing.<div><br /></div><div>For a while I could say I was enjoying a real bird's eye view of that city.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQSuXohot_HpoKjKDVpuduvWTcuaXIfTxLaHrXnf9AYQRt5KsBcu5qgwSc1yNV5XDxBiJ3CVdm9NDIhlQpnMfEWazZDBBLVYVgUeOldAhF3V8FYZiJd-EHrr912_a5gNl6WulUZkymPHr/s1600/Birdseye+View.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQSuXohot_HpoKjKDVpuduvWTcuaXIfTxLaHrXnf9AYQRt5KsBcu5qgwSc1yNV5XDxBiJ3CVdm9NDIhlQpnMfEWazZDBBLVYVgUeOldAhF3V8FYZiJd-EHrr912_a5gNl6WulUZkymPHr/s320/Birdseye+View.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494007776628904258" /></a></div>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-28311489806664566242010-06-26T21:54:00.000-07:002010-06-28T14:10:25.869-07:00On Board Norwegian Cruise Lines' Star to AlaskaAlaska Cruise June 2010 on the NCL Star<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqzMM2LftmvUY715jMLJ_4p9Ze1L2DwaXoy6C7iGEjaWt1Nsq9K62tXstfG852AfBdvwL7QF9wyscIh8gBXWsOXUYv_6eSfo2IeLky4_AYJjY5069mtamvyXIV_CdMHoheowtv5VJLyvnW/s1600/NCL+Star.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqzMM2LftmvUY715jMLJ_4p9Ze1L2DwaXoy6C7iGEjaWt1Nsq9K62tXstfG852AfBdvwL7QF9wyscIh8gBXWsOXUYv_6eSfo2IeLky4_AYJjY5069mtamvyXIV_CdMHoheowtv5VJLyvnW/s320/NCL+Star.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487313071064619298" /></a><br /><br />One of the benchmarks of a business plan for a retail outlet is revenue per square foot.<br /><br />It is not the model for executive suites, or country clubs, or churches or, until my recent cruise to Alaska on board the Norwegian Cruise Lines ship The Star, cruise ships. <br /><br />At least that is not the image projected in the seductive promotions for those glamorous, carefree floating resorts. It was certainly not the model on that same cruise line when I cruised on its ships on two previous occasions. It has not been the business model on two other cruise lines I have sailed with.<br /><br />The NCL Star at 91,745 tons and 965 feet long is a large ship. It is typical of cruise ships, sleek, majestic enviable. But as we cruised I began to become aware that something about life on board a cruise ship was missing on this ship.<br /><br /> What I would call “the cruise experience” was gone. <br /><br />The fault was not that of the crew. The crew were all very attentive, helpful and friendly.<br /><br />It wasn’t the food. Menus in the main dining room were creative, the food very good, the presentation and service excellent. The signature chocolate buffet late one night still offered chocoholics a taste of heaven.<br /><br />While some of the entertainment was very amateurish, the staging of the main shows was quite spectacular. There were tall exciting spiral waterslides in the pool that might tempt adults to get out of the hot tubs or deck chairs and recapture some of the exhilaration of youth.<br /><br />It wasn’t the interior decor. There was the usual central glitzy soaring atrium, the attempt at an ambience of opulence in the main Versailles diningroom. Attention had been paid to the bathrooms in the stateroom where there was a small sliding glass door to the shower stall instead of the usual thin plastic curtain, and another sliding door separating the toilet from the washbasin area. Remarkable. The crew kept the ship very clean.<br /><br />But some grinch or more likely, bean counter of an executive board had stolen the “cruise” from “cruise ship”. <br /><br />You could just imagine the process as they went through the ship trying to wring more revenue from each square foot of its decks, passageways, lounges, not by adding value ( at least not for the passengers or crew) to these but by turning them into so-called “Specialty Restaurants”, super-priced “Garden Villas”, eliminating even the usually complimentary lemonade from the cafeteria, and keeping the passengers circulating around the shops, buying photographs, paying extra for “specialty” restaurants rather than encouraging them to sit around, relax and enjoy panoramic views from expansive public areas by severely limiting such areas.<br /><br />They may have started with the staterooms. <br /><br />No more Room Stewards with a name and a telephone extension number and an assistant. Probably eliminated a few hires. And why not? The telephone operator could channel requests for that clean towel or small repair in your cabin in between her other calls, no? Or for a bar of soap. No, not soap. No more little bars of soap. Just a soap dispenser with industrial grade detergent. Is it really necessary to have an employee with a smile and helpful attitude to introduce him/herself to the guest at the beginning of the cruise as your assigned Room Steward anyway? Couldn’t he/she be more profitably used by sending him/her wherever a cabin needed attention anywhere on the ship or to free up personnel to sell Welcome Drinks at the Grand Atrium on embarkation? Every small profit counts. Certainly. The guests won’t miss the personal touch, would they? You even eliminate the pitcher of water in the cabin to steer the occupants to the almost $6 USD bottle of designer water in its place if he is incapacitated or not motivated to walk the 600 feet and several decks to the cafeteria just for a generously free glass of water with ice or too finicky to drink the water from the tap. Oh, but a bucket of ice is still provided and the guest can wait for it to melt. So many alternatives. Thank you NCL.<br /><br />And those staterooms: no armchair. Just a cafeteria style straightback tubular steel and plain hard plastic seat and small back panel type chair and a matching wellworn stool, no back. Just the kind of furniture for a romantic room service breakfast, right? Or for sitting around to read that novel you packed. Well, if your cabin has a verandah, at a premium of course, there’s a more comfortable deck chair out there, leisurely on a Caribbean cruise but on an Alaska cruise?<br /><br />Ah those ever-present bracing 20 mph headwinds, created by the forward movement of the ship, chill even in the Tropics, biting in Alaskan waters. On every other cruise ship I have sailed you needn’t brave them to have a wonderful 180˚ view because there has always been a vast totally enclosed lounge the entire width of the ship and located right up front. On The Star if you wanted such a view you had to brave the elements and that headwind because there is no such enclosed observation lounge, just open decks up front. There are glass panels with gaps between them. Ineffective. The design also spoils your photography because exposed glass on ships is always marred by salt residue. <br /><br />What happened to the panoramic observation lounge? The closest thing to it is a similar but much smaller structure midship with a view of the pool, waterslide and some masts. The top level is occupied by those super expensive villas, The lower level is a cramped bar. You don’t have to pay to sit in it of course to admire the waterslide, unable to see the wide horizon hidden by it, but it is so evidently a bar that you feel odd sitting there and not buying a drink.<br /><br />And that seems to be the idea also behind what are normally choice public lounging areas on other ships which on this ship have been designated “Specialty Restaurants” with a cover charge. They are not walled off but even outside of restaurant hours they are unmistakeably revenue-producing areas, meant for business not lounging with a book. Since they occupy most of the best vantage points other than your own cabin it means few places to just stop by and admire the view.<br /><br />Every cruise I have been on has had a cocktail party hosted by the Captain for all the passengers. Not this one. There was a cocktail party for members of NCL’s frequent cruisers’ club. Other than that if you wanted to have your picture taken with the Captain there was a session at which the professional photographers would take it and of course you could buy a print. Don’t think of taking out your little “point and shoot” digital camera and doing it yourself. And those photographers...every single evening they prowled the main dining room taking not just a picture of couples but of each individual as well. Three pictures instead of one. No obligation to buy of course but...<br /><br />But I save the worst for last, and this may have explicit language, so be forewarned. On cruises significant numbers of passengers require wheelchair assistance. The usual cruise line practice is to provide curb to cabin assistance, but on every cruise I have had, even those with large numbers of such guests, if the passenger requested and there were sufficient wheelchairs (and there always were), the line would leave the wheelchair with the passenger for use on board.<br /><br />Well here was the ultimate captive market for NCL’s revenue magicians. If you wanted a wheelchair on board you had to rent one. Granted, even that in principle might be ok. But there were two absolutely devious and heartless aspects to NCL’s practice. <br /><br />The minimum rental on this 7 day cruise was for 10 days, at an unreasonable minimum charge of $125 USD. That was Gotcha #1.<br /><br />Gotcha #2 should be qualified with an expletive. On the last evening there was an announcement that those who rented wheel chairs were expected to turn them in that night to have them inspected and the paperwork completed before the rush of disembarkation. The announcement added, seemingly solicitously, that NCL would provide complimentary wheelchair assistance from the holding area for disembarkation the next morning upon request. Of course that overlooked the little matter of the handicapped person having to get around from the moment he/she returned the rented wheelchair at the Reception Desk, till next morning when he/she would have to find some means of navigating the up to 600 feet and some decks to the holding area.<br /><br />I happened to be sitting listening to the music in the Grand Atrium near the Reception Desk that night at about 10:30p when I witnessed the most disgusting impact of the totally greedy and inhumane business model that NCL seems to have applied to its cruises.<br /><br />A very overweight middle-aged lady wheeled an equally overweight sickly elderly female relative to the Reception Desk to dutifully return their wheelchair. With difficulty the older lady got up from the chair and unsteadily supported herself with the help of a cane on legs too weak to sustain her weight while the checkin process proceeded. When the process was completed the pair shuffled off with evidently great discomfort and difficulty holding on to each other. Distances to staterooms are quite far in a ship the size of the Star.<br /><br />But the ultimate in indignity was that as they passed it was obvious that the older lady was incontinent and had to shuffle along at her slow pace, her pants wet, through the public passageways of this glamorous ship all the way to her cabin. Meanwhile there were still technically three days of wheelchair rental that she had paid for but could not use.<br /><br />I inherited from my mother a resistance to seasickness, but I came close to puking as I seethed with rage and disgust at Norwegian Cruise Lines at how low they had sunk.<br /><br />The receptionist was pleasant, quick and efficient, and doing her job. She couldn’t see the lady’s predicament from her station. I repeat, all the personnel on the ship were excellent, professional, helpful and friendly. She is in no way to be blamed in this. <br /><br />It’s those bean counters isolated in the plush no-expense-spared executive suites where revenue per square foot is irrelevant. They had robbed that elderly lady of the cruise experience that was owed her. They had robbed her of thirty percent of the rental of her wheelchair. They had even robbed her of her dignity. They had reduced the pleasure of cruising for most guests, herded them by the interior layout of the ship as much as possible from lounging areas with views to revenue-producing outlets and impersonalized the cruise experience.louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-7977709558490766552010-06-20T20:40:00.000-07:002010-06-20T22:58:45.251-07:00Tracy Arm Fjord, AlaskaIt seemed a great idea to get me out of my armchair to do some real travel: a cruise to Alaska on three days' notice. No hassles of air travel involved, just an easy ten minute taxi ride from home to the dock. All ticketing and security registration online. Our trusted travel agent taking care of all the details.<br /><br />And so without a second thought we were off to Alaska last Saturday for a seven day cruise aboard Norwegian Cruise Lines' Norwegian Star. <br /><br />Even packing was a breeze since we were informed that there would be no formal dinners scheduled and NCL's "Freestyle Cruising" meant that we had dinner on our own schedule. There was no need to wonder whether we would draw the Early Seating for dinner or have to dine later than normal if the luck of the draw had assigned us to the Late Seating. Best of all, I'd have an opportunity to try my new iPad "on the road."<br /><br />The travel industry is full of paradoxes, absurdities, restrictions, fine print and illogic. Cruising embodies all of those to the highest degree. I was to experience that very shortly. <br /><br />But that will be the subject of another post.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLeBcuHEphZ8w-zZDAcO0PlGK0w5sBqF8fl6Ab4L8OER0TFHYjjlGy4XVG3OkDDVae3Qi0dyyfV2Zb2rspQ55iyONkd4DbeG-ETiazfyWPHnot-ZQm1HLfgKdub8vTWloQhFpmx9dk5Io/s1600/Sawyer+Glacier+map.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 189px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLeBcuHEphZ8w-zZDAcO0PlGK0w5sBqF8fl6Ab4L8OER0TFHYjjlGy4XVG3OkDDVae3Qi0dyyfV2Zb2rspQ55iyONkd4DbeG-ETiazfyWPHnot-ZQm1HLfgKdub8vTWloQhFpmx9dk5Io/s200/Sawyer+Glacier+map.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485067566531262594" /></a><br />This post will be all about the highlight of this cruise, the hours spent gliding along the mirror smooth waters of the Tracy Arm Fjord amid magnificent scenery on the way to and from the Sawyer Glacier.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_s919YyoETbTAk2L2NPHxQNCw7gKFYMdWbJSd5cRS6I9ohnLEr79XdSsf_eDbMLTSZ6hj5bFTmOpHm9cf3eNjJeDNrOfwCKUeLxrG3MJBast1lzQSANDseZS3F4SQug3hZSgF4-Qf7e0G/s1600/IMG_0728e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_s919YyoETbTAk2L2NPHxQNCw7gKFYMdWbJSd5cRS6I9ohnLEr79XdSsf_eDbMLTSZ6hj5bFTmOpHm9cf3eNjJeDNrOfwCKUeLxrG3MJBast1lzQSANDseZS3F4SQug3hZSgF4-Qf7e0G/s320/IMG_0728e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485092332756909138" /></a>The remnants of a glacier retreat above the fjord.<br />Rock formations stunned with their variety of shapes and colors. The reddish color ones looked somewhat like those mysterious monoliths that guard Easter Island in the Pacific.<br />Finally, Sawyer Glacier, the parallel moraines it is carrying along looking very much like tire tread marks!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz2VHo6f8KWYMDEq45C00aCNhXba-bDYouegx0-il2e1UGz7EVbwK1NLZ4OxanYuyQuoatw4pI-sAdlGaW0dZYCdoo3a108qFNSgPCeha4Ra0V_btWEDRIj18uq1lT9s6SYZh05m21O9rk/s1600/IMG_0731e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz2VHo6f8KWYMDEq45C00aCNhXba-bDYouegx0-il2e1UGz7EVbwK1NLZ4OxanYuyQuoatw4pI-sAdlGaW0dZYCdoo3a108qFNSgPCeha4Ra0V_btWEDRIj18uq1lT9s6SYZh05m21O9rk/s320/IMG_0731e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485093471770576146" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2hVq5F8VMHjR6hTb8frsvFOhsf-v9IAq5eKB1RjZe3Bh-UUuFyX1MDVCjIUNPpsebWa5Y5LnplVbITStIhbT7c1ptsOwCBLuzH-as-iB-34IwasH1Fr6cniHqPkmCLFCBkApO88itifqX/s1600/IMG_0738e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2hVq5F8VMHjR6hTb8frsvFOhsf-v9IAq5eKB1RjZe3Bh-UUuFyX1MDVCjIUNPpsebWa5Y5LnplVbITStIhbT7c1ptsOwCBLuzH-as-iB-34IwasH1Fr6cniHqPkmCLFCBkApO88itifqX/s320/IMG_0738e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485094099782450082" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-OojEbhYY3T3Fsc4iOZY7xa3E2Ynz8CzABTixPB9BsyXwaF9fYLbQ2_aUsHYiIjEHNdVWAXMfu7k-fLpdB-gFzral0rWBL85n_ZrSTrAs2Zqb39F_kU96c1BQRUOSVyKg7Dv1xXB897iU/s1600/IMG_0734e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-OojEbhYY3T3Fsc4iOZY7xa3E2Ynz8CzABTixPB9BsyXwaF9fYLbQ2_aUsHYiIjEHNdVWAXMfu7k-fLpdB-gFzral0rWBL85n_ZrSTrAs2Zqb39F_kU96c1BQRUOSVyKg7Dv1xXB897iU/s320/IMG_0734e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485094488559017762" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UMAmw3_lNFK_AAbvQZdfWavi5K7vMH92BnzuTFgoMRR1c7a0C4qac7-Os9Avd2d-bFqIn_hkLdkhcZF5yHZeKB3U7_hZOCXDJtfxXxdcFcB5n2dfiWw2eq-DDCUsZl9yP_cTB0305Cjb/s1600/IMG_0739e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UMAmw3_lNFK_AAbvQZdfWavi5K7vMH92BnzuTFgoMRR1c7a0C4qac7-Os9Avd2d-bFqIn_hkLdkhcZF5yHZeKB3U7_hZOCXDJtfxXxdcFcB5n2dfiWw2eq-DDCUsZl9yP_cTB0305Cjb/s320/IMG_0739e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485095324717290146" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvm71mBu40m7b4DGkdmR5NKSQNIQVF1FT7BrJdO0fJcQWnEITEVlw7M3rSaMHrkIr7kudHHbHIpMDhPMu2YIA3B32LyrWQvhHX5b2_kWQKsTl86_9psvGTIwmTGkRaljxeibdBRfizYuK/s1600/IMG_0748e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvm71mBu40m7b4DGkdmR5NKSQNIQVF1FT7BrJdO0fJcQWnEITEVlw7M3rSaMHrkIr7kudHHbHIpMDhPMu2YIA3B32LyrWQvhHX5b2_kWQKsTl86_9psvGTIwmTGkRaljxeibdBRfizYuK/s320/IMG_0748e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485095332122169490" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtPPbM1kQk0qSC3ANFEc8FmULTqlvUaY7QPwMyo0-F4oyjc0CIcGWtbBfZ4obdD14g0NT7lwig-Iu5srHbM2ViWFYZk3z12O0FTZTOYLTKQ4EDXm3a4R3avKMpkEI6Okh8GaSoIn9QXKw/s1600/IMG_0750e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtPPbM1kQk0qSC3ANFEc8FmULTqlvUaY7QPwMyo0-F4oyjc0CIcGWtbBfZ4obdD14g0NT7lwig-Iu5srHbM2ViWFYZk3z12O0FTZTOYLTKQ4EDXm3a4R3avKMpkEI6Okh8GaSoIn9QXKw/s320/IMG_0750e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485099370043220642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw-N1ZQqCaLlLqwMp8mxJn-9fB11af95-J6ktJHjRUTFQEjNE3y3DsoWS8qNnWTmwqeGL9KyErk-UAk1yaeBJ2hQkT6A5qtikg7lum1xv6QOJzJICbLAE88AAOgXrfKuJ3fK7jEh7gsaA6/s1600/IMG_0751ea.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw-N1ZQqCaLlLqwMp8mxJn-9fB11af95-J6ktJHjRUTFQEjNE3y3DsoWS8qNnWTmwqeGL9KyErk-UAk1yaeBJ2hQkT6A5qtikg7lum1xv6QOJzJICbLAE88AAOgXrfKuJ3fK7jEh7gsaA6/s320/IMG_0751ea.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485095338103729202" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyjxkP5UwNWhg6xy_NtpZ-CXeXDvO7qvo1S3yXUZW__N8EI9wEs2JMS3WEKvPOvgNuIARGr8OULRz12kUZSuKf0ZDEfJzP3Rf70lz2JDCgBXWlcd8d2I63DULIoLLSp_cfLZ_IkKFTrHh/s1600/IMG_0760e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyjxkP5UwNWhg6xy_NtpZ-CXeXDvO7qvo1S3yXUZW__N8EI9wEs2JMS3WEKvPOvgNuIARGr8OULRz12kUZSuKf0ZDEfJzP3Rf70lz2JDCgBXWlcd8d2I63DULIoLLSp_cfLZ_IkKFTrHh/s320/IMG_0760e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485099860420096626" /></a>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-3874681125543265502010-06-06T16:40:00.000-07:002010-06-06T17:15:14.636-07:00House NumbersOnly the mailman seems to use house numbers to locate me anymore. <br /><br />This realization was impressed on me the other day when a new address plaque for our house was delivered, a present from my spouse. On it was printed not the street number of our house but its precise Latitude and Longitude. Even those coordinates which I had used in poring over maps in high school geography classes long ago to locate faraway cities had been modified: instead of degrees, minutes and seconds, the Latitude and Longitude were stated in degrees followed by the decimal equivalent of minutes and seconds. Pinpoint accuracy. To check it out I entered those coordinates into Google Earth and there instantly appeared a satellite view of my roof with a pin stuck into it..<br /><br />I wonder how long it will be before the mail service begins to accept addresses stated in terms of GPS coordinates in addition to traditional street number addresses. Think how fast an electronic sorter would help distribute the mail using that system.<br /><br />Already “Location Based” services have become universal. Often my iPod Touch will flash a message that a certain site requests that I permit it to use the Location Service of my device when all I wanted was a general weather forecast or the news. <br /><br />Every item I order on the net is accompanied by a tracking number that enables me to follow precisely and in real time the movement of say, a laptop, from its manufacturer in China, though its transfer to another air freighter in Alaska and on to a truck in California. I have learned the names of forlorn truckstops in small towns somewhere out in the Midwest where my package was transshipped in the middle of the night. When I hear that jumbo air freighter throttling back right over my house at 3:55 am every dawn on its final approach I have a pretty good idea that my package is going to be at my doorstep when I wake up because I had tracked it being onloaded at that forwarder’s hub in Memphis thousands of miles East earlier in the night. And all of those logistics were using GPS coordinates, not street numbers.<br /><br />All of which has prompted me to think: What if I followed that line of Latitude that runs right through my house all around the world, 16,517 miles, back to my house? (Click on arrow to start movie clip)<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx_5NlmQoz8dRnUmihwHushN0wEqMjOGaPrV7a6UDC5LpjP3QqH-djBMRIocnIu5qwci9rtbB-k8RxsLXAImQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihGKqUWKh2bOK4l-zlKv9eyTjIXgeHF_LFN4dhFkbNA420JKdq3awl3fLcglHgJgY0FpxkifstsyA49KkhUkPyfDay-0CNUP3jRuzGmkr4TlkIOwlkvZHroew2qdPbUukLeFMJIYS5yOuv/s1600/IMG_0700.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihGKqUWKh2bOK4l-zlKv9eyTjIXgeHF_LFN4dhFkbNA420JKdq3awl3fLcglHgJgY0FpxkifstsyA49KkhUkPyfDay-0CNUP3jRuzGmkr4TlkIOwlkvZHroew2qdPbUukLeFMJIYS5yOuv/s320/IMG_0700.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479811249170751394" /></a>My geography lessons always defined Latitude as “an imaginary line” but for me 47°N begins as a very real line, a narrow path up a low berm across the street from my front entrance that disappears into a stand of trees. <br /><br />I have often thought of travelling around the world and I have even planned such a trip several times using the conventional way of checking airline routes and schedules and fares, flying in a zig zag route from major airport to major airport following the logic of the air travel business.<br /><br /><br />But now I am going to find out what lies straight ahead over the horizon as I look due West through my front window and follow footpath Latitude 47°N (approx.) beyond those trees.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZhAWj_q8zWTwUNBdNp8DJBT6NPWhih2MrNpRKHpTlhc6IWrf2_hoCL0bS6XWe0eMe4X3BsqTKfW94qBR95i5t5rJ6LsUEdq6frOJopGK3mBlRMz3zlr6DN-jnssGWJVq6daKsZGkQsuf/s1600/Odyssey+E-W-4.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZhAWj_q8zWTwUNBdNp8DJBT6NPWhih2MrNpRKHpTlhc6IWrf2_hoCL0bS6XWe0eMe4X3BsqTKfW94qBR95i5t5rJ6LsUEdq6frOJopGK3mBlRMz3zlr6DN-jnssGWJVq6daKsZGkQsuf/s320/Odyssey+E-W-4.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479811750657312242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3vvHFs_JWcJmgBT1iSDGdVlPNLrztBctuREv5Wsgm8sYbA0RwAo9XgJ2ELNXq4R_aBFd1KyyZore0F4dsJHWQev1mb7jFTOUhwd8FkhcdkkTV5mhAuCZU4HhyphenhyphenDvUvKyamH3n5GFnnD3w/s1600/IMG_1234+copy.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3vvHFs_JWcJmgBT1iSDGdVlPNLrztBctuREv5Wsgm8sYbA0RwAo9XgJ2ELNXq4R_aBFd1KyyZore0F4dsJHWQev1mb7jFTOUhwd8FkhcdkkTV5mhAuCZU4HhyphenhyphenDvUvKyamH3n5GFnnD3w/s320/IMG_1234+copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479813352473922498" /></a>It’s not going to be a physically or logistically demanding journey. <br /><br />Except for the first thirty minutes or so as I walk along Latitude 47°N to the water’s edge at Puget Sound I will be doing most of my travel at my computer using Google Earth. Can’t blame me: how would you like to trudge through Mongolia, or vast expanses of Central Russia, which to my surprise I discovered are directly beyond those familiar trees outside my front window, over the horizon, across the Pacific, on the other side of the International Dateline?<br /><br />Following Latitude 47°N to the water's edge at Puget Sound:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMci6mZyRnh6vjq_2-h06SApGFDS_kBOoq_yepykLRWg1tdfOWyCKaDE5SiLq_SWjKFkDSDaOvMm0kRSTwhB0CampxjwMspL5GvMKKBWg5zjR3lVRJjQTbHPTgbMxFYilZBO3qk0rHezeD/s1600/IMG_0699.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMci6mZyRnh6vjq_2-h06SApGFDS_kBOoq_yepykLRWg1tdfOWyCKaDE5SiLq_SWjKFkDSDaOvMm0kRSTwhB0CampxjwMspL5GvMKKBWg5zjR3lVRJjQTbHPTgbMxFYilZBO3qk0rHezeD/s320/IMG_0699.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479814422634116370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir85v8wjOz8KbcCKs7VdEDlwg4hbmw9ENNCjJf2A8I1GqxXhtn8owWpeJFVCP9R2T3n9UvdEuufK4m8FfZUCIv0p54QBcU8OjFEIHcZgiIQ4bc-EWGlMk0r_1YVgyxcJ5k-8sdcSR_w5Cm/s1600/DSCN1593.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir85v8wjOz8KbcCKs7VdEDlwg4hbmw9ENNCjJf2A8I1GqxXhtn8owWpeJFVCP9R2T3n9UvdEuufK4m8FfZUCIv0p54QBcU8OjFEIHcZgiIQ4bc-EWGlMk0r_1YVgyxcJ5k-8sdcSR_w5Cm/s320/DSCN1593.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479814426476232578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv26X29k2zMHkyFPzpdwjfunuZ34VrmDkJ_FP99Fo5PkgcCcbVEMJiaCZblaNQ-UHPG-d1n3c78HRXF1qqZmYMukeTu8PW-Kj-dc4ENtgS3XSJtZFFU6DTlgJr6L8DovdGtcfLCFuA6QTC/s1600/DSCN1541e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv26X29k2zMHkyFPzpdwjfunuZ34VrmDkJ_FP99Fo5PkgcCcbVEMJiaCZblaNQ-UHPG-d1n3c78HRXF1qqZmYMukeTu8PW-Kj-dc4ENtgS3XSJtZFFU6DTlgJr6L8DovdGtcfLCFuA6QTC/s320/DSCN1541e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479814436879427554" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpdvRPf4-kwsefMlz3MOXbO9wwX8weiqaRcKVtTWpvnR4Uzp3Kf3H98flvO74URfgNau3g3hAZVEKsu00S7Dtj_9bMLRS5_gW4usJJ9q5Bh6ucVzLSIbtuz0DI4IrMT2dI8xiX3CFrxIq/s1600/DSCN1523.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpdvRPf4-kwsefMlz3MOXbO9wwX8weiqaRcKVtTWpvnR4Uzp3Kf3H98flvO74URfgNau3g3hAZVEKsu00S7Dtj_9bMLRS5_gW4usJJ9q5Bh6ucVzLSIbtuz0DI4IrMT2dI8xiX3CFrxIq/s320/DSCN1523.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479815635591017330" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycLqNxFIWv_a1CggmzCuRnJZQnWzNd4rb6uj15x6A9xuoSjRd0NHM9QK6eTdWppp9cJWZOLJICaeJHK_3YnbgV1eZJbhQc_CpZWK-yImxpLW-fYPc-CgbhQ1uFyyvrbmNmzgHCZQKyn_H/s1600/DSCN1548.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycLqNxFIWv_a1CggmzCuRnJZQnWzNd4rb6uj15x6A9xuoSjRd0NHM9QK6eTdWppp9cJWZOLJICaeJHK_3YnbgV1eZJbhQc_CpZWK-yImxpLW-fYPc-CgbhQ1uFyyvrbmNmzgHCZQKyn_H/s320/DSCN1548.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479815629126107090" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRpWxqE4Jh_65GEGwuI78oqxl-XdNz8gPkzNNjT8z9BBJc4SvT3CSKiRHPzV3UbSsQpOTIo0syUtSPRDXobzqE2cn07y4Li4ZEwgL3z5VnHalCNBGwOdw74-mfkjzlBCp2CtxqZW8lM8a/s1600/IMG_1231+copy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRpWxqE4Jh_65GEGwuI78oqxl-XdNz8gPkzNNjT8z9BBJc4SvT3CSKiRHPzV3UbSsQpOTIo0syUtSPRDXobzqE2cn07y4Li4ZEwgL3z5VnHalCNBGwOdw74-mfkjzlBCp2CtxqZW8lM8a/s320/IMG_1231+copy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479815623253260706" /></a>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-25805049281944046002010-05-30T18:00:00.000-07:002010-05-29T16:42:43.497-07:00Marktplatz, CoburgMy first view of the Marktplatz of Coburg, an ancient town in Bavaria, Germany, was from somewhere high up in this building, the Rathaus or Townhall. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO9P97G7rcxAFIIMQnlBOHEus9kcbznRgS4_RP2UkpiqAYEMYgRnKtrI9eAHQemkR9pGnWoDIkaGqjBAJ6CKxcrIkQEOeceOVlG9wCsnRENk2L23C8CVpQ0nzhqeKBZZG2lTTqjkh4bUW-/s1600/IMG_0022.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO9P97G7rcxAFIIMQnlBOHEus9kcbznRgS4_RP2UkpiqAYEMYgRnKtrI9eAHQemkR9pGnWoDIkaGqjBAJ6CKxcrIkQEOeceOVlG9wCsnRENk2L23C8CVpQ0nzhqeKBZZG2lTTqjkh4bUW-/s320/IMG_0022.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476570578920707506" /></a><br />At the time I was sitting in front of a warm fire here in my home in Seattle with my iPod Touch, having just discovered the wonders of looking at almost anywhere in the world, live, thanks to Livecams, an app with a database of webcams all over the world, and I was looking at the view from one of those cams which looks down on the Marktplatz from high in the Rathaus.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKu_PRiXq3JenM8_NEpvDWkhW-lOq_MEoWCW2M4DtkWD-5l1BHqBFyoIEBvZ9Ll-m4rV1w9Zak3yPSQSp41Lw1VWe-d-tOJvQ9ZU22L-DRj-nNWCo71he_I1UDeKKvvJPeNTK_a5F0cdM8/s1600/IMG_0263.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKu_PRiXq3JenM8_NEpvDWkhW-lOq_MEoWCW2M4DtkWD-5l1BHqBFyoIEBvZ9Ll-m4rV1w9Zak3yPSQSp41Lw1VWe-d-tOJvQ9ZU22L-DRj-nNWCo71he_I1UDeKKvvJPeNTK_a5F0cdM8/s320/IMG_0263.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476571153554578706" /></a><br />One advantage of watching the world through a webcam is that you can witness the rhythm of the life of a city as it changes from morning through the night, through good weather and bad, from season to season. As a traveller one can usually spend only a few days, a few weeks if one is fortunate enough, in any one place, not long enough for that.<br /><br />The first time I saw the Marktplatz in Coburg it was nighttime there, eight hours ahead of my Seattle early afternoon. The square was deserted, crisscrossed by the tracks of vehicles in the recently fallen snow.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdzE0rCibf9CFJczHdURhUtVx8_b0-blMqwkSp5Qgzdok5pOsiEXC8_ry7gmMHbVrI7mFOLGIRgnCQxN-lCx0uk8gUDWjIJmzauSp6KBjIlqT5MUR7jdSLMqHknndU9J2ICk_5N8t07F09/s1600/IMG_0226.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdzE0rCibf9CFJczHdURhUtVx8_b0-blMqwkSp5Qgzdok5pOsiEXC8_ry7gmMHbVrI7mFOLGIRgnCQxN-lCx0uk8gUDWjIJmzauSp6KBjIlqT5MUR7jdSLMqHknndU9J2ICk_5N8t07F09/s320/IMG_0226.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476571632250888882" /></a><br />The next night that same square was alive, brightly illuminated and festive with its Christmas Market.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ZGbFVsT6sXRwVhxTFzLyT97EOH36sAr6WeDnSfLSWe7HPY3Ouk5ntLWzeE9l6B-19ulo0KNEMenb8hR_Dx90nID0IUwuPstWpNTUnc-hIdD0ed5HTp5-04b0Oq3TXCF9k9wTpDqmpbbe/s1600/IMG_0178.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ZGbFVsT6sXRwVhxTFzLyT97EOH36sAr6WeDnSfLSWe7HPY3Ouk5ntLWzeE9l6B-19ulo0KNEMenb8hR_Dx90nID0IUwuPstWpNTUnc-hIdD0ed5HTp5-04b0Oq3TXCF9k9wTpDqmpbbe/s320/IMG_0178.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476572106731976338" /></a><br />That scene lasted for some weeks, till one day workers with heavy construction equipment and trucks showed up, dismantling the stalls and taking them into storage for next winter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglF860TyPQnfY7ATS5viN7VotNOnEOGVbdjhyFhlzll-myFAX_HYmBjKQiHkcvnMUr19t4Jf1V83L0t4WLvSiy0YKuzY9nWi2aDMTrDhzOUcu9RLpLgP63QNaZ0n8D3rKDzmhhwHxjBV5y/s1600/IMG_0224.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglF860TyPQnfY7ATS5viN7VotNOnEOGVbdjhyFhlzll-myFAX_HYmBjKQiHkcvnMUr19t4Jf1V83L0t4WLvSiy0YKuzY9nWi2aDMTrDhzOUcu9RLpLgP63QNaZ0n8D3rKDzmhhwHxjBV5y/s320/IMG_0224.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476572571883460786" /></a><br />Marktplatz reverted to a quiet stately role, the statue of Prince Albert, the consort of Britain’s Queen Victoria at its center. <span style="font-style:italic;">(That match was made here in Coburg and Victoria is said to have declared that she would always consider Coburg her second home. She made several visits here during her reign).</span><br /><br />But not for long. One morning I logged on to find the square occupied again with busy stalls and crowds of shoppers milling about them. This had been its traditional role for centuries and the reason for its name Maktplatz. Those stalls would disappear during the night, a cycle, I would soon observe, of a market that takes place every Wednesday.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkA3Po9R96M3zLWHNYZEcuoyed6kYpU0SPRqbowjaoTU90qH1OwEq75d7dcOdRCXslbdlEjlC7IQD739qSaSoFieymQwlxUtYg-QQG7L2y0mcQsfnG-NoBCKl7Khy-RXc30V41WXDYG7P/s1600/IMG_0356.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkA3Po9R96M3zLWHNYZEcuoyed6kYpU0SPRqbowjaoTU90qH1OwEq75d7dcOdRCXslbdlEjlC7IQD739qSaSoFieymQwlxUtYg-QQG7L2y0mcQsfnG-NoBCKl7Khy-RXc30V41WXDYG7P/s320/IMG_0356.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476572951598193714" /></a><br />One weekend recently the square was the venue for an exhibition of classic cars.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTU8glpuWR1MOtLrkB3miipMP0KVhu7GKgWLIzDjsu5bqrAUR-gKUOESWy9g5YIwyhPgRO7jjixylS8gWrePZPzhnokd10uyWp083nLK2OBDWnUEgcv08UfgeMAcLBi15tsf7rbqNL5sc_/s1600/IMG_0020.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTU8glpuWR1MOtLrkB3miipMP0KVhu7GKgWLIzDjsu5bqrAUR-gKUOESWy9g5YIwyhPgRO7jjixylS8gWrePZPzhnokd10uyWp083nLK2OBDWnUEgcv08UfgeMAcLBi15tsf7rbqNL5sc_/s320/IMG_0020.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476573179277101186" /></a><br />Last weekend there was what appeared to be a candlelight vigil, most likely a religious observance.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLG6UrMAYBuRUmzQEIlp5ZBM5D51zFuqTrYuz_q-89Z2353oF1b8vkfLZWOqWAgYbS2Ep6NKnzgSOlLRChF7paPKiQuarqmRBrjgBwMIIgJl5uJB78ocfq0l3dOBxS6bjajjpTz1WCnkiu/s1600/IMG_0465.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLG6UrMAYBuRUmzQEIlp5ZBM5D51zFuqTrYuz_q-89Z2353oF1b8vkfLZWOqWAgYbS2Ep6NKnzgSOlLRChF7paPKiQuarqmRBrjgBwMIIgJl5uJB78ocfq0l3dOBxS6bjajjpTz1WCnkiu/s320/IMG_0465.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476573547436551234" /></a><br />One evening a large van parked in the square to offload tables and benches. Soon Marktplatz was turned into what must have been a beer garden. You could see smoke rising from the mobile kitchens, enticing, no doubt, with the aroma of bratwurst, urging one to quaff a stein of freshly drawn Bavarian brew! Summer had arrived in Coburg.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglO6_0Y4aQ_KmdiwRe_-Sbzw-27FbwF2bLP1Xap55_WBs2aMAA3sZYRcQemGx7X8Kj1CtlXekwac1nzNZPREwr_WwvKegdNu_auZiTvRID9RgsbR7DlvpKZGUz7bMPSGbrCWE-guQozd1z/s1600/IMG_0052.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglO6_0Y4aQ_KmdiwRe_-Sbzw-27FbwF2bLP1Xap55_WBs2aMAA3sZYRcQemGx7X8Kj1CtlXekwac1nzNZPREwr_WwvKegdNu_auZiTvRID9RgsbR7DlvpKZGUz7bMPSGbrCWE-guQozd1z/s320/IMG_0052.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476573856272529618" /></a><br />At intervals in this constantly changing panorama, a small van or two will park, in the same spot week after week, an awning will be unrolled and an entrepreneur will set up shop for a few hours.<br /><br />Bustling life is constantly flowing through the Markplatz, but it also ebbs from time to time. Then, the fountains gush but not vigorously, a family strolls through with a toddler breaking from its parent’s hand to run away to the fountain, a mother pushes a stroller, a cyclist rides through, the odd car or truck takes a shortcut, a small knot of tourists clusters around a guide at the base of Albert’s monument. Markplatz, Coburg, may slumber occasionally, but it never sleeps.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwyfHcVhBFH_3DNg382J6KgTisL4xe0XNMWuWJMcQT7HFvPvyxAla3q3R_lS4592EcUW1205MHi8glvj_lD9yuOUZLdtJM3uFuDV-EFYy86LfWFp5PcxG8R4ZGEEgRQu8ro9tecQ3qwQ6f/s1600/IMG_0262.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwyfHcVhBFH_3DNg382J6KgTisL4xe0XNMWuWJMcQT7HFvPvyxAla3q3R_lS4592EcUW1205MHi8glvj_lD9yuOUZLdtJM3uFuDV-EFYy86LfWFp5PcxG8R4ZGEEgRQu8ro9tecQ3qwQ6f/s320/IMG_0262.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476579496764587170" /></a>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8654063320698368606.post-25902593877416662482010-05-28T18:00:00.000-07:002010-05-28T18:00:02.062-07:00Spring Shower in the Emerald city<span style="font-style:italic;">If it's raining<br />Have no regrets</span><br /><br />from the song April Showers<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VB-025SjKI_Gs21oVygLvmZs-MT5Y0zcsULT5M_eUZidT2BqTqMJWB18PMMb38f-Xonsl6okFXNOthJzTY8CDcql-3Y4rUM2SbF6xc_OgnJinu1ZcMen2z1wi6SanQui4iTMuB0ot0JA/s1600/Blog_After+Spring+Shower.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VB-025SjKI_Gs21oVygLvmZs-MT5Y0zcsULT5M_eUZidT2BqTqMJWB18PMMb38f-Xonsl6okFXNOthJzTY8CDcql-3Y4rUM2SbF6xc_OgnJinu1ZcMen2z1wi6SanQui4iTMuB0ot0JA/s400/Blog_After+Spring+Shower.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476442969244564498" /></a>louishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02724442924909561263noreply@blogger.com10