Summer Solstice, eh what?

The weather network definition reads "Summer Begins with Solstice. Warmer and longer days signal the coming of the summer season. On around June 21st every year locations north of the equator officially start summer. On the Summer Solstice the Sun reaches its highest point in our skies and we get to enjoy the longest daylight hours of the year.

Today I woke up in our trailer in Point Roberts, WA, to grey overcast skies followed by drizzle, followed by heavy rain, more drizzle, etc. do you get the picture? Evidently somebody forgot to let the BC weatherman know that today should be warmer and summerlike. Also, last time I checked all days are still 24 hours long, so I won't get my hopes up for more time in my days than I already have.

To add special sound effects to the drip drip of rain on the canopy, the campground owner is playing with his riding lawnmower, driving back and forth over the grass he just cut yesterday. Boys with their toys !! Although the noise is irritating it is rather funny to see him out there in his little purple raincoat, red ear protectors and eyeguard visor pulling wheelies on the croquet field.

What does one do for excitement when trapped inside a trailer in the rain? Surf the Net, what else. Sometimes it bears fruit...like finding old friends who moved to the USA shortly after we moved to BC from Ontario - or locating my bestest friend in the whole world (from my high school days). It always boggles my mind when someone I'd give up as lost for life shows up in a Google search. Modern technology, ain't it grand.

Today I am a bachelor. My hubby has meetings in town and attractive as 2 days trapped in a trailer with your wife may be, he decided to head home this morning. While there he will schedule delivery of our new dishwasher. The old machine gave up the ghost and started leaking while we were in Europe for 5 weeks. We arrived home to see our new hardwood floor sporting more hills and valleys than Rome. We loved our new flooring - here is a photo taken just after it was installed.

A restoration company will attempt to dehumidify the wood, but I don't see how that could work as the hills are mighty big, and valleys mighty low. The nice insurance adjuster said they would cover replacement if it does not work, so that makes me feel a bit better. She didn't mention what will happen to our premiums after the claim goes through, but some things are best left unsaid until they happen, we can only take so much in at one sitting.

Life sometimes sucks doesn't it? Bad things come in 3's but good things 1 at a time, don't you agree? For Example, just this month 1)Our truck breaks down, $998.00 2) our trailer leaks and rots out a section of the siding $$$$ for sure a big ticket repair and now 3) The new hardwood floor warps and buckles. On the GOOD news side, we did win $67.00 in the lottery - I can hardly contain the joy.

Maybe it is just the 'rainy day' gettin' me down. When the sun shines the world will look better.

God loves me! Now what can possibly not work out for my good knowing I can count on Him.

Hola Readers!

Somewhere in my ancient roots there must be a touch of Spanish blood as Barcelona touched my soul in many ways. Sounds corny I know, but I can't find other words to explain it. We landed in Girona on a Sunday morning, 10 minutes before the scheduled arrival time, picked up our suitcases, purchased bus tickets into the city and found our seats all with 30 minutes. Ryan Air delivered on their promise again.

The drive to Barcelona was dotted with ancient stone ruins, aquaducts, vineyards, green rolling hills and fields, with the odd country villa where only the rich and famous could reside.

On arriving at Station Nord bus and train depot we had our first real experience with a foreign language. Signs and ticket machines were bi or tri-lingual, Spanish, Catalan and sometimes French. We punched the button that said Placa de Catalanya and boldly fed in Euro coins until tickets came out. Faced with a choice of 2 platforms we stopped a nice young couple to ask for directions. After much animated discussion on which was the right way to go the young man points us towards a tunnel leading to a platform where the machine kept spitting our tickets back out at us. At seeing our obvious confusion, a good Samaratin stopped and with sign language and limited English explained we were on the wrong platform for the ticket we had purchased. Back we go to our starting point and 10 minutes later we boarded the train for Placa de Catalanya stop.

A short ride later we disembark only to discover a maze of exits, none of which indicate the way to Las Ramblas. As panic starts to set in we notice a staffed information booth, so off we go, suitcases in hand. To our dismay none of the attendants spoke English, so with sign language and broken high school French we asked for directions. In response to our gestures and fractured French one gentleman emphatically pointed straight ahead. As I start out in what I think is the right direction he bangs on the glass and waves his arm up and down, pointing again. Don then starts off towards a turnstile, which brings on more banging on the glass. We return to the booth and again, with gestures and questioning looks, ask him to repeat the directions. He now points downward, where to our surprise we see there is a gate attached to the booth.. we point to it....he smiles and nods.....we sheepishly open the gate and proceed down the obvious exit...to our enjoyment all 3 attendants stand up and smiling broadly, give us a rousing round of applause. Nice folks.

A short walk later and we find our daughter leaning up against a building waiting for us. She greets us with a hearty "welcome to Barcelona, I see you made it".

Our apartment was located at #6 Calle Portaferrissa, which literally means "the street of the iron gate". The mouth of the street is the entrance to the old city, holding a great iron gate. The dark narrow streets house an accumulation of shops, restaurants and bars.

Sleep came quickly the first night and we woke Monday morning to the sounds of roosters crowing, monkeys screeching and shopkeepers rolling up their doors to open for business. Overnight a nasty head cold settled in and cramped my style for the next 2 days, but hey, you might as well be sick in an exotic location, right? On Monday morning I did make it as far as the La Boqueria market to pick up sausage, fruit, cheese and bread but had to head back to our apartment and a nap. The next 2 days were spent reading, sleeping and popping cold tablets. By Wednesday I felt almost human and ventured down the 89 stone steps into the world.

My list of MUST SEE sights include the Sagrada Familia, La Pedrera and Casa Battlo designed by Antonio Gaudi, the Barri Gotic medieval ruins from the 14th and 15th century, the Barcelona Cathedral, Roman Ruins and Las Ramblas. 4 days is not long enough to even scratch the surface of what Barcelona has to offer. My list of things I will do next time (see I'm already committed to returning) include the various museums, Parc Guell, the waterfront, Aquarium and Montjuic park.

One thing I did get my fill of is Paella, had it for 3 meals and surprisingly the one I liked best was a seafood concoction described as "Black, with squid ink". I felt very brave trying it.

A Whirl-Whind Whorld Tour

The grand tour began on April 23, 2007 aboard the Emerald Princess. Twelve days of unprecedented luxury including gourmet meals, maid service, first class entertainment and the most beautiful scenery imaginable.We kicked off the cruise in Venice. We arrived in Trevisio airport around noon April 23rd and took the shuttle to the Port. The ship remained in port overnight and departed the afternoon of April 24th. This allowed just enough time to experience St. Mark's square, walk the side streets to see the quaint shops and cafes and to get our fill of pigeons, also known as rats with wings. I'd actually thought of doing some shopping but after looking at the cute little handbags with their 700 Euro price tags I decided to pass. With the Euro at approximately $1.50 Canadian, it was too rich for my taste.


While this is my 3rd cruise, it was undoubtedly the best by far. The weather being the main factor, closely followed by fabulous shore excursions to the walled city of Dubrovnik, Croatia.



Athens Greece was a last minute excursion addition, and one that turned out to be the most enjoyable. Our tour guide was informative, and enthusiastic about her country, sort of reminded me of the Papa in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. She knew her stuff and was generous in her praise and support for all things Greek

A full day was spent on the Island of Santorini. Being afraid of heights BIG TIME, the Santorini bus ride to the top of the island was a real nail-biter. I actually pointed the camera out the window and snapped photos without looking, and miracle of all miracles, some of them are not half bad.
Santorini from the sea, appears to be a snow capped mountain range. As we came closer it was evident that the snow was a multitude of white washed box shaped houses. Flat roofs allow for the collection of rainwater, which drains down into underground cisterns where it is stored for the dry months. Rain is scarce on Santorini and the grape vines have adapted by growing close to the ground in the form of small circular shrubs, not much more than 12 inches in height. A strange sight compared to our Okanagan Vines in British Columbia. The tour included a stop at 'Santo Wines' for a tasting session and nibbles....yummy.

Mykonos, an Island Paradise with turquoise water, white sand beaches and narrow cobblestone streets seeping up into the hillsides.

The next-to-final stop was Naples where we climbed aboard a bus to tour the ruins of Pompeii.On the way we stopped at a cameo factory where the craftsmen / crafters if you want to be politically correct,explained how they carve seashells to make beautiful cameos and ornaments.

While very interesting, I was more taken with the Bougainvillea growing down the wall adjacent to the parking lot. The vibrant colors and tissue like petals were impossible to resist, resulting in taking way too many pictures.


As a child growing up in the prairie hamlet of Hayseed Sask. I could only dream of far-away places, islands in the sun peppered with flat roofed white boxlike houses, and ruins of cities like Pompeii that thrived 2000 years before Christ.

Imagine my surprise when I found out they had indoor plumbing, which I never had until I went away to the big city to attend University in 1963.

Somehow in my pre-trip imagination, I would walk the ancient streets carefree, arthritis free, and pain free. Not So, while young at heart the old body found it a struggle to achieve what my heart desired. Even with frequent rest stops and all the wishful thinking I could muster, I found myself unable to keep up for more than 1/2 a day. After that it was back to the "Swimming Hotel" as our ship was called in Kusadasi, Turkey, for a tall cool drink and a nice long nap.

We disembarked in Rome, checked into our hotel and were thrilled to discover the corner of the Roman Walled City was a mere 2 blocks away. We followed the wall for an hour or so, then hunger called so we backtracked to the hotel. Our hotel clerk recommended a family run restaurant close by for dinner, so off we went. Dinner was interesting as the meat was cooked on a grate over the fireplace at the front of the restaurant, and starters were a "serve yourself" array of wonderful olives, marinated artichokes, asparagus, mussels, calamari, cheeses, and much much more. I could easily have made a meal of it. To end our meal we had Gelato and coffee. As we prepared to leave the owner came over and insisted we have a drink before going, on the house, so who are we to refuse such a gracious offer.

It was fully dark when we left, full and happy. A good night's sleep later it Sunday morning and we were up early for a buffet breakfast on the rooftop terrace then off on a 2 hour walking tour of the walled city of Rome.


In case you are wondering, of course I tossed a coin in the Trevi Fountain - but so far have not won the big lotto prize.

Our tour ended by rejoining our bus for a trip to Vatican city and the crowd-crush in St. Peter's Square for the Pope's Sunday Blessing. Not being Catholic didn't deter us from enjoying the experience of being surrounded by thousands of people from all around the world here for the experience of a lifetime.

Next Stop, and next post, Barcelona

Home is the Hunter, Home from the Hill

We rolled off the plane at 2:30pm May 21, 2007, world-wise and sleep deprived. After being away for 5 weeks Vancouver has never looked so good. We are late bloomers when it comes to 'real travel', waiting until ages 63 and 61 to cross the big pond, and this did hamper our enjoyment somewhat. Thanks to our daughter's hospitality and Princess Cruise lines we eased into this globe-trotting lifestyle gradually.

Week 1: Glasgow, the centre of our universe now that our only child has emigrated to the land'o'heather, men in skirts, and funny musical instruments. The air moves faster in Glasgow, and always has a hint of damp or promise of damp. The west end, University of Glasgow district, is a step back in time to 4 story walk-up-flats with ancient stone steps, indoor laundry drying facilities hoisted to the ceiling by pulley, and indoor storm doors which indicate that winter winds are not stopped by the outer entrance door. After 24 hours in Glasgow one has an urge to start wearing period clothing as our blue jeans and jumpers seem out of keeping with the surroundings.

Thanks to the hop-on / hop-off bus tours we were able to see most of the 'sights' from the outside and this was enough to make us commit to another trip to cross the threshhold and see what is inside. One stop that we made which is worth a thousand words, but I won't go that far here, is the Kelvingrove Museum.

This is a national treasure, a storehouse of Scottish History, Architecture, Music (from the outstanding pipe organ concerts held at noon), and a fabulous restaurant that serves a Smoked Haddock chowder that is TO DIE FOR !! If I could have done it politely, I would have ordered a 2nd serving but good manners prevailed.

Two days before we left we took a train trip to Edinburgh for a visit to the Castle, and a memorable pub lunch where I bit-the-bullet and ate my first Haggis with Neaps'n'Tatties as a side. When growing up in Saskatchewan this dish was christened "potrots" by my Aunty Mary who came up with the strange foreign sounding name to entice me to eat my veggies.

After spending our week in Glasgow we said farewell to our daughter and hailed a cab for Central Station and the Prestwick Airport and Ryan Air. I must give Ryan Air a plug here, every one of our flights arrived EARLY - now when is the last time a North American airline could make that boast.

But I digress, Onward to Venice via Trevesio. The Trevesio airport is nestled at the foot of the Italian Alps and surrounded by fertile agricultural lands. The wonderful shuttle driver who met us at the airport with his SUV and a smile, greeted us warmly with what turned out to be the bulk of his English language skills " Venice Port? Princessa Dock? Come. From then on our questions were answered with a smile and a shrug. However, the drive was interesting as the road was bordered with magnificent estate homes, gated and walled in most cases but allowing a quick view into the courtyard if traffic slowed down. On returning home I find that this area is home to a number of Italy's multi-millionaires.

The Emerald Princess was waiting for us.

There was no line-up at check-in so we were directed to the Preferred Booking desk and whisked through in minutes. Our first impression "what a monster ship" It is HUGE ! And miracle of miracles, our suitcases were sitting outside our door when we arrived at our room - another first.