Dear Friends and Family. We wish you a Very Happy, Safe, and Healthy New Year. In these pictures with Christine and me are our daughter Alexis and Pax “the Wonder Dog”.
Alexis is with her three children (left to right), Kane, and twins Paisley and Phoenix.
We celebrated an early afternoon New Years Eve dinner at the nearby South Park Saloon in Alma Colorado, the highest in North America (10,580ft/3,225m).
Peace Everyone, Pete
PS. I know that I still owe at least one final post from our recent trip to South America. I will get to it. Life has been quite busy since we returned to Kansas City. I have initiated the process of undergoing DBS surgery for my lifelong essential tremors. I arrived at the decision to pursue this course of treatment during my hike in Portugal and Spain. The following link has the details.
I have now met with the chief neurologist at the University of Kansas Medical Center, the neurosurgeon, and I have no less than nine future appointments which include two scheduled surgeries. The third surgery has not yet been scheduled. Much of this will occur beginning in late May after we have returned from our three week hike from the west coast of England to its east coast along Hadrian’s Wall, followed by three weeks of us piloting a 62 foot narrow boat on England’s canals. Please keep me in your thoughts. Pete
November 29, 2022. In the South Atlantic, 34.22° S, 53.11° W. Off the coast of Brazil, bound for Buenos Aires, Argentina.
First of all, a Very Happy Birthday to our daughter Alexis. She is our youngest child and has turned 40. We are now officially “old“!
As explained in my previous post, a medical emergency required that Viking Jupiter detour in order to obtain care on shore for a passenger. This significantly altered the cruise calendar. Unfortunately, it was necessary to cancel our port of call in Montevideo, Uruguay. The “silver lining“ is that this gave us an extra day and an overnight in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Christine and I have been to Montevideo, and enthusiastically embraced the idea of two days in Rio,
We have never before visited Rio de Janeiro. We had long considered this to be the crown jewel of this voyage. It did not disappoint. Anticipation called me to the top deck of the ship where I eagerly awaited first sight of Christ the Redeemer perched high above the city.
“Sugarloaf“, an extinct volcanic cone, stands as sentinel over the narrow entrance to the busy bay. It is second only to the Christ statue in defining the iconic skyline of Rio.
This is an extremely busy port shared by huge oceangoing vessels and recreational day-sailors. We had to wait our turn, much as aircraft do in circling to land at a busy airport. The port also hosts a significant Brazilian naval station.
The first impression of this city of nearly 7 million, located in a metropolitan area of over 12 million, is that it is vibrant, teaming with life, and prosperous.
However, as we approached our berth poorer quarters of the city came into view. Perched precariously on a hillside were row upon row of shanty shacks seemingly created from refuse castoff by the well-to-do. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
At port was also a huge mural, declared by the Guinness Book of World Records to be the largest in the world. The faces each represent 1 of 5 continents.
The popular Copacabana beach was a half hour drive from the pier. The ship had arranged for shuttle service that would run from 2:30 PM until 6 PM. For those who wished to forgo the drive there was an excellent museum a short walk from the ship. Christine and I opted to venture into the city.
The shuttle bus dropped us off in front of the famous Copacabana Palace Hotel.
Most passengers crossed the road to walk along the beach. We were the exceptions. We set off into a more “blue collar“ district in search of an ATM. We found one at a subway station and after having secured local currency looked for a “locals only“ restaurant/bar.
We soon came upon the Mr. Copeo Bar/Restaurant where patrons were enthusiastically cheering for either Mexico or Argentina in the World Cup match displayed overhead on an outside television screen. Not a word of English was heard among patrons or staff. However, the waitresses found my efforts to communicate to be quite amusing.
A picture menu (no English) was helpful. We were rewarded with two exceptional steak dinners, two king size bottles of beer, and a bill of less than R$120. Converted from the Brazilian Real to dollars it was approximately $23.
Those three hours spent in town were a highlight of this voyage. In sharing our experience with passengers back onboard we were surprised that some of them considered our conduct imprudent, perhaps even dangerous.
On short notice the Cruise Director was able to secure shipboard entertainment courtesy of a local Samba dance troupe. They were exceptionally talented, engaging, and beautiful!
The original itinerary had been for a single day in Rio de Janeiro with no overnight. Christine and I had signed up for one of the more demanding optional tours, a lengthy overview of the city that would include a visit to the Christ Redeemer Statue and a panoramic view of the city from atop Sugarloaf. Fortunately, the tour was still a “go”, but since the cruise ship was scheduled to depart port in the early afternoon the tour would be compressed to seven hours with a departure from ship at 7 AM. That will be the subject of my next post.
November 22, 2022. In the South Atlantic, 6.15° S, 32.50° W.
Although Viking Jupiter can accommodate 930 passengers, we are slightly under capacity with about 890. There are a number of ship sponsored small groups, such as the Mah Jong group, Bridge Players, The Friends of Bill W, and the Solo Travelers group.
Christine saw the Solo Travelers one evening and it appeared that they numbed fewer than 20. Except for them virtually all of the other passengers are traveling as companions, and the vast majority of them “romantic”.
We are in continuous close proximity with all the passengers which has provided me with the opportunity to “couples watch”.
They come in all flavors. We find that demographically Christine and I are at the younger side of average, perhaps the longer side of years together, well placed for our experience as travelers, and probably at the more extreme end for “adventures” shared.
Most passengers are from the United States, but Canada is very well represented. It should come as no surprise that given the age of most onboard, Florida as a state of current residence is well represented.
This brings me to some other characteristics of the affection-bonded companions. There are a few interracial couples and quite a few same sex couples. If the demographics were younger I imagine the interracial proportion would be higher. Looking back 20 or 30 years ago I believe that the percentage of obvious same sex couples would have been much smaller as so many back then would have still been “closeted”. I am thankful for the enlightened social evolution that favors a broader acceptance of colorblind and gender-blind love. I hope that it continues to evolve in favor of broad acceptance.
Years ago my dear mother, may she rest in peace, might have scowled in disapproval at couples from both of these groups. As she entered her later years she became more tolerant. There is one group that may have yet received her unspoken ire.
Early in the cruise I observed a couple, clearly dear to each other, but separated by generation. Father and daughter?… niece?… No, husband and wife. Within my thoughts I could feel the specter of my mother’s disapproval. I turned my focus onto my own thoughts and feelings, asking myself “Why?”, not about them, but about myself.
Mindfulness is a wonderful skill to acquire. So many of us never stop to become aware of their thoughts and ask that question of themselves, “Why?”. In examining my thoughts and seeking an answer to the question I concluded that I and perhaps society still have work to do.
When Christine and I married we presumed that we had decades ahead of us together.
Fortunately, that has been the case. Life is a lottery and comes with no guarantees. Most couples bond with the hope of sharing life and love. Sometimes it works out, and sometimes it does not. The ages of the lovers is not the most relevant factor of success.
Back to my mother: I am confident in my assessment of her righteous indignation. Yet she and I lived in the shadow of “uncommon companions” who were very dear to us.
My mother was a first generation American, born to Lebanese immigrants. Her parents’ marriage was arranged by the families. Grandfather fought as an American “Doughboy” in the First World War, returning to Lebanon after the war to meet and marry my grandmother.
That marriage occurred around 1920 or 1921. Their first of 6 children was born in 1923.
My grandparents prospered and became icons in their West Virginia community. They were leaders in commerce and as parishioners in their Catholic Church. All of their children were college educated, my mother receiving her Master’s Degree from the University of Wisconsin where she met my father shortly after the Second World War.
My parents, 1949.
I can scarcely imagine a more successful and loving marriage than the one shared by my grandparents.
Their life together ended with grandfather’s death in 1958. Grandmother continued on as the family matriarch until her passing in 1979.
By the way, my grandfather, Joseph Francis, was born in 1884. My grandmother, Labibi Raad Francis, was born in 1905. I will leave it to you to do the math.
Peace Everyone. Pete
PS. The above photo, taken around 1957, features my grandparents who are the couple on the right. The little boy on the far right would eventually grow up to be the author of these “Thoughts”.
It was good to hear your voice today! Sorry that I timed it so badly. The difference in time zones is going to take a little bit of getting used to. When it’s noon here I have to remember that you are not yet out of bed.
This has been a low impact day. If I had more days I would do some serious sightseeing, but since I leave for Porto tomorrow I wanted to make sure of my train connection and navigation to the station.
I bought a 24 hour pass that allows me unlimited travel on the metro system: trolleys, buses, funiculars, subway, and local trains, all for about €6, or a little less than $6. The exchange rate between the dollar, the euro, and the British pound is heavily in favor of the Dollar. The Euro and Pound are at all time lows versus the Dollar. Prices are at least 15% cheaper today than when I booked travel and my accommodations in Lisbon and Porto a couple of months ago.
The Metro subway stop is a half block from my hostel. The system is very modern and the ride to the train station took only 25 minutes with one change.
Taking a taxi wouldn’t be much faster but would cost about €15.
Speaking of modern, the train station is spectacular.
While I was on the platform today’s noon train to Porto pulled in. Again, very modern and very fast.
My ticket cost €44, which was for a first class seat. Second class would’ve cost €38. The first class cabin looks like first class on an airliner. I’m sure I will be able to share some pictures tomorrow.
Beneath the train station is a vast complex of shops, eateries, cafés, etc. There was a fancy barbershop offering a special, haircuts for €10. My hair has to grow more before I’m going to consider a haircut. The last one was too short. I know you agree.
I used my pass to hop on tram number 28.
28 goes through the old city and many of the popular tourist areas. These old trams date back to the early 20th century and have been kept in excellent condition.
They are not maintained for the benefit of tourists, although they are a tourist attraction, but rather they are the only form of public transportation that can negotiate the narrow winding streets of the central city that date back centuries. These little electric trains move fast and there is often less than a foot separating it from pedestrians on the narrow cobblestone sidewalks. I am sure there must be occasional accidents which are no doubt blamed on the pedestrians and not the tram drivers.
Because of its route, number 28 is very popular. The tram only seats 20 but it quickly fills to standing room only. The trick is to get on at one of the ends where the coach starts out empty.
I rode tram 28 from end to end which took about an hour. Even though I had a seat it was pretty cramped so I didn’t try to take pictures of the scenery. I did note how few people on the streets are smoking these days. It is quite a contrast to what we’ve seen in years past.
At one end was a large cemetery reminiscent of ones we have seen in Paris and Buenos Aires. Even in death there is the struggle for status. But I am reminded of a German proverb: “Arm und Reich im Tod Gleich” (rich and poor are the same in death)
Some tombs resemble small churches and must have cost many thousands of dollars.
Occasionally I came upon one of these family mausoleums in a state of very poor repair. Cloth covered wood caskets that were once elegant had been exposed to the elements and were in such a state of deterioration that it’s a wonder bones weren’t sticking out the sides.
On the other hand, I came upon a very modern looking mausoleum. It’s “resident“ must have died recently as there were many freshly placed mementos in front, and even a carefully tended tomato plant! When I first came upon this there were two teenage girls seated in front of the mausoleum listening to music.
I just looked the name up on the internet. Sara Carriera died at the age of 21. She was a singer and also the daughter of a singer-songwriter. This is what I found:
“She was only 21 and the daughter of acclaimed singer and songwriter Tony Carreira. Sara was on the passenger seat of a Range Rover Evoke driven by her boyfriend, the singer Ivo Lucas. Lucas lost control of the SUV for reasons yet to be determined. Afterward, a vehicle crashed into the tumbled SUV.”
As I left the cemetery I saw that it was trash and recycling day. Is it possible that the green bins are the property of the Soilent Company?
I wonder what age groups will and won’t get this bit of dark humor.
At the other end of my ride on tram 28 I came to a plaza where there was a beer tent and a number of semi permanent vendor kiosks.
I heard voices raised in anger a short distance away and I came upon a protest.
These were Iranian citizens protesting the suppression of women in their country and the recent murder of a young lady for her failure to wear a head covering. I found the entire scene quite emotional.
The speakers addressed the crowd in English even though most of the attendees were Portuguese. At least in major cities like Lisbon, English seams to be the common language that links diverse cultures.
I am again going to avail myself of dinner here at the hostel tonight. They require at least four people for the chef to work his magic. When I signed up I was number four.
Enough for now. Have Fun, Do Good, and Be Safe! Love You, Me.
PS. (There always seems to be one) This evening‘s dinner was the best multicultural experience that €15 could buy. I shared table with six young people. The young woman in the foreground to the right is from the Netherlands, the two young people seated across from one another are from France, the two young women across from me are from Argentina (the one directly across from me now lives in Barcelona), and finally the young man to my left is from Seattle Washington. Again, English was our common language, although Apolonia (from France on my right) and I shared some German together. She too uses Duolingo. I should add, the meal was again spectacular! Life is good.
18 days and counting to my departure for Portugal. This will be my third hike to Santiago de Compostela, Spain, this time on the Portuguese coastal route. If all goes well I will hike from Porto, Portugal, to Santiago and then continue to the Atlantic coastal villages of Finisterre and Muxia before returning to Santiago. Over the course of 35 days I intend to cover about 300 miles on foot.
From Santiago I will travel to Barcelona to meet Christine in early November. Whether I transit Spain to meet her by train, plane, or bus is as yet undecided. From Barcelona we will travel aboard a Viking cruise ship to northern and western Africa, cross the Atlantic, and make ports-of-call in Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina.
Our homecoming in Kansas City is scheduled for early December.
What, if any of this, is an adventure? What is “an adventure”? These are questions that have been running through my mind recently.
The term “adventure” is often casually thrown around to describe any number of activities. These can include everything from cross-continent travel by bicycle to a weekend outing with the family; from blue-water ocean sailing to kayaking on a small placid lake. So what qualifies anything as “an adventure”?
First of all, there can be no adventure without the participation of the “adventurer”. Adventures are measured in the context of the participant.
Walking to the mailbox is hardly an adventure, unless the person is near 100 years old, with failing balance, and dependent upon the use of a walker. My now deceased father-in-law who very nearly made it to 102, embarked upon an adventure every time he stepped out of his home.
Adventures are things typically out of the ordinary. They present aspects of risk, challenge, and uncertainty.
So, is my forthcoming venture, an “adventure”?
First of all, my travel itinerary is not so unusual for me. What is unusual is that I am proceeding solo, Christine will not be at my side. With the exception of a few short camping trips and 4 Atlantic Ocean sailing passages, we have traveled nearly 50 years together and shared our “adventures” in lockstep.
Second. I’m 70 years old. While I enjoy good health and vigor for my age, I do suffer from some conditions that raise the specter of risk, challenge, and uncertainty. Of course there are the typical age related eye and hearing issues, the morning aches that work out quickly, and balance that is not what it once was. What conjures a measure of anxiety for me are two other conditions.
Since childhood I have exhibited tremors diagnosed as Familial Essential Tremors. “Familial” in that I inherited the condition from my mother, a life-long sufferer, “essential” in that it is idiopathic with no external cause, and “tremor” which describes the uncontrollable shaking that occurs when attempting a task. It is the most common motion disorder known to medicine, with about 10% of the population exhibiting symptoms to some extent. For most people it does not impact daily life. I am not most people.
Over the last decade my “shakes” have become progressively worse. I have difficulty writing. Putting a key in a lock requires two hands, as does holding a cup or glass without spilling. I am confronted hundreds of times each day by the impact ET has upon routine tasks. I have been fortunate that Christine always helps, but she won’t be there to bail me out when I have to carry a plate of food across the room or pass the bread and butter to others sharing my table. Her absence certainly makes the coming trip more “adventurous”.
Last year I tripped one night in the dark while camping. I recovered my balance without falling to the ground, but in the process severely strained my right knee. It has not been the same ever since.
Three weeks ago while doing a 5 mile training hike in Kansas City my knee briefly locked up. I had to call Christine to pick me up. Elevating the leg and applying ice with gentle range of motion exercises brought relief, but residual pain and swelling sent me to an orthopedist. An MRI was conducted with the results, “…a complex radial and horizontal tear… of the medial meniscus… displaced meniscal fragment…”. There was more, but you get the point. I am scheduled for surgery in mid-December.
I have continued my daily training walks of 5-7 miles without further incident, but that one experience three weeks ago gives me pause. Christine will not be a phone call away should I be unable to hike.
Risk, challenge, uncertainty. These things will all be present in ways that are unusual for me. Yes, this is an adventure and I face it by choice. I’ve been asked “Why” to which I reply, “Don’t put off until tomorrow the things you may then find you are unable to do.” I will soon find out if I am unable to do this.
Peace Everyone. Pete
PS. We each share in common the two greatest adventures. One begins with the first breath we take, and the second begins with the last.
