tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15378569417254825972024-03-05T17:39:36.751-08:00Age and AntiquityAGE AND ANTIQUITY
Voyages of Discovery
Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.comBlogger156125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-29288127326100287222021-06-14T18:55:00.000-07:002021-06-14T18:55:09.056-07:00Into the Mines at Butte<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsnV-IgbSXRvI_GPinCA5yIihnCe5SUfZORt3N_I4IsU9Q68PmMOXgGSOHBhf7A9QwGhv9rX-_ALIVhPE9YBckmdSKp4awssnkm8aXTZT_BN8za8pxyigcWGEuJHM4Pw5SvUs4e-AicnW/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="625" data-original-width="833" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsnV-IgbSXRvI_GPinCA5yIihnCe5SUfZORt3N_I4IsU9Q68PmMOXgGSOHBhf7A9QwGhv9rX-_ALIVhPE9YBckmdSKp4awssnkm8aXTZT_BN8za8pxyigcWGEuJHM4Pw5SvUs4e-AicnW/w640-h480/image.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain Consolidated Mining Tower: "A mile high and a mile deep"</td></tr></tbody></table></p><div style="text-align: left;"></div><span style="font-size: large;">T</span>he ultimate destination of our journey was Butte, Montana. It was the place where Dwight spent his first year out of college in 1957. With a degree in geology in hand, he had gotten employment as a mine engineer trainee with Anaconda Mining. At the time, Butte was a wide-open mining town. Dwight was training to go to the Anaconda copper mines in Chile, but when the price of copper tanked, he was offered the choice between becoming a hard rock miner or being laid off. He worked in the mines, underground, for about 4 months before joining the Army to do his required military service. <p></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltnMShs-Yvd0N1Qu2KhF876MGy5sZ-T3qJTLMws1o9ACqa-EZTk1iquDMro1JF8nYsddrw8K1DKf64MnB1irz5owX57k7pDwPEfBi21Rvcz50pmCwjNWVc8BCv8XfIKy8w2kcIM9SdAkD/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1077" data-original-width="1627" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltnMShs-Yvd0N1Qu2KhF876MGy5sZ-T3qJTLMws1o9ACqa-EZTk1iquDMro1JF8nYsddrw8K1DKf64MnB1irz5owX57k7pDwPEfBi21Rvcz50pmCwjNWVc8BCv8XfIKy8w2kcIM9SdAkD/" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;">The Berkley Pit in 1984</blockquote></td></tr></tbody></table>With a population around 33,500+, Butte is the 5th largest city in Montana. It still depends on mining as its prime economic driver, along with the 2,500 students plus faculty at Montana Technical University, and also considerable employment driven by the Superfund site. Dwight enjoyed trying to find his old haunts; I enjoyed exploring the mining history and the small-town quiet. You can safely make a spontaneous U-turn in the middle of a main downtown street without worry. Mining shaft towers dot the landscape (more than 200), although most are currently dormant. The landscapes are stunning with the original upper town mining district now joined to a lower town in the valley, and the whole is surrounded by rolling, green hills. A large part of the Butte hill is covered by the terraced Berkley Open Pit mine which was only added in the 1950's and is currently the largest Superfund Site in the US. <span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">It is one mile long by ยนโโ mile wide with an approximate depth of 1,780 feet, and is filled to a depth of about 900 feet with water that is heavily acidic, filled with toxic minerals. </span></span></p><p>The morning after our arrival, we visited the World Museum of Mining, a slightly over-blown title for<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFSAkS0HOz0IAPoIqou1GuKKHMQz-OkagW3D4vnHJNf4wNc_jRU3pbwmyVlke1WF7q3pgcM34Pu7GkLEqr_pHpYKns0vjkgnB1dx5JK2UeC9WmSMW-x-dudosQPIzT00MD1UMtiwXI8P3/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="833" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFSAkS0HOz0IAPoIqou1GuKKHMQz-OkagW3D4vnHJNf4wNc_jRU3pbwmyVlke1WF7q3pgcM34Pu7GkLEqr_pHpYKns0vjkgnB1dx5JK2UeC9WmSMW-x-dudosQPIzT00MD1UMtiwXI8P3/" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dwight at the World Museum of Mining</td></tr></tbody></table> a quiet re-creation of an old mining town. We booked tickets for the underground tour, but since Dwight was in a transporter chair with small wheels, we decided it wouldn't make the trip on gravelly, damp paths. Silverton's Old One Hundred mine with its cable cars taking visitors below ground gets the prize for mine tours. We then visited the Granite Mountain Memorial, a memorial to all the miners (over 2500) who had been lost in mining disasters in the Butte mines. </p><p>We could see a storm approaching from the monument on the hill and decided to take the Tourist Bureau's trolley tour in the afternoon. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMYGV9DbJS938w-eYYn5MU54OElqSBNE55TMwn-o5Wx3Qkipv4qtCP1T9SDwgWQgTV9CcAQWgKCqkfax52wIpYOWNqaWGE_s-r2vpDDyS9TLRYGWTmnkq_CYRASUkqjFs0wKxQfe0a15s/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="625" data-original-width="833" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMYGV9DbJS938w-eYYn5MU54OElqSBNE55TMwn-o5Wx3Qkipv4qtCP1T9SDwgWQgTV9CcAQWgKCqkfax52wIpYOWNqaWGE_s-r2vpDDyS9TLRYGWTmnkq_CYRASUkqjFs0wKxQfe0a15s/w320-h240/image.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granite Hill Memorial </td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJLJu2Cpf2H2nd0sqTy01WKvOZH4zgfyK_fiXRTVW2iD-3iGLZXyy-DWMHVtTrVsVvtomkhahe6ipesUZBth2JcqGuJQglO9QWBIMw0iPoYaW-dIuujBAN4TacqxXJdacAet1RMsHsNg5/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="833" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJLJu2Cpf2H2nd0sqTy01WKvOZH4zgfyK_fiXRTVW2iD-3iGLZXyy-DWMHVtTrVsVvtomkhahe6ipesUZBth2JcqGuJQglO9QWBIMw0iPoYaW-dIuujBAN4TacqxXJdacAet1RMsHsNg5/" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granite Hill Memorial<br /> (Did I mention there were no tourist hoards?)<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The storm raged about us as we toured all the architectural wonders of the old town in the trolley; plastic flaps protected us from the storm. The old town brought to mind the late 19th century buildings in Durango -- Copper King Victorian Mansions; old, classy hotels; the red light district; a Masonic Lodge; labor union meeting halls; Chinatown, which still boasted restaurants started more than 100 years ago and still owned by the original family . All in all, I enjoyed Butte much more than Yellowstone. I guess I'm just a culture/history tourist rather than a landscape tourist. We already live in the most beautiful wilderness area in the world, and we'll be happy to get back there!<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-45512210913113336362021-06-12T16:48:00.010-07:002021-06-12T16:52:53.513-07:00Timing is Everything<span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjANXXtFW59WxP1Th5ASXU27SOBSbYgqYFuihV9I-U9T0kIYwscqYphOjrD4ngoLGCavo1w-bDKQhgBPgaUQ0hpOH6rSrW7Giw6Ew0pgnImZ7zKeiaZOcnK_qNUorWNDNVfBCVcdINgW9hj/s1024/Yellowstone+entrance.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjANXXtFW59WxP1Th5ASXU27SOBSbYgqYFuihV9I-U9T0kIYwscqYphOjrD4ngoLGCavo1w-bDKQhgBPgaUQ0hpOH6rSrW7Giw6Ew0pgnImZ7zKeiaZOcnK_qNUorWNDNVfBCVcdINgW9hj/s320/Yellowstone+entrance.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />W</span>hile Yellowstone National Park was not the goal of our journey, it appeared to be a great opportunity to visit the Park since we were passing close by. I had never been there and Dwight was there so long ago as to not remember. It was bad timing. First, it is about a 50 mile drive from Jackson to the Yellowstone Park entrance, and then another 50 miles or so to the Old Faithful complex, all narrow two-lane roads. Second, the road was packed with vehicles, slowing down, speeding up, stopping. It was a totally exhausting drive with no energy left to visit separate sites. It appeared that everybody and his brother had decided Yellowstone was the perfect post-COVID vacation. The Park was mobbed. To make matters worse, access to the facilities were still limited because of COVID restrictions. People were allowed into the Old Faithful Inn only as other people departed because of visitor limits. No restaurants were open with seating, but were limited to take-out. Then you had to scramble around for seating outside on benches or any empty space available. Bad timing for visiting Yellowstone. <div><br /></div><div>On the other hand, our timing for the Old Faithful geyser was impeccable. We gathered up our pulled pork sandwiches from the Old Faithful Lodge and found seating just outside of the Lodge facing the geyser. We had time to finish our sandwiches and bingo...eruption. Almost like it had been waiting for us. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/N1woHs2kYsc" width="320" youtube-src-id="N1woHs2kYsc"></iframe></div><br /></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgg6sMjn7MgTc9V14rCaRzbDvP7sW28ODdoucjsrnV0P3-kfT4dJsw4qlM-omxvWrnsfW-uHsx2ZCKcUtj6SfRiek_ulFujAL-3KKok_4LGfwSzCXYTYW21x_z8YiEM6wa6eL-k_39Qvu/s2048/20210608_130703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmgg6sMjn7MgTc9V14rCaRzbDvP7sW28ODdoucjsrnV0P3-kfT4dJsw4qlM-omxvWrnsfW-uHsx2ZCKcUtj6SfRiek_ulFujAL-3KKok_4LGfwSzCXYTYW21x_z8YiEM6wa6eL-k_39Qvu/s320/20210608_130703.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dwight and his transporter chair <br />after Old Faithful eruption</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It was amazing how quickly the crowds disappeared once the geyser settled down--sort of a "been there; done that" moment. Fortunately, we had packed the transporter chair for Dwight and I think otherwise it would have been very difficult. </div><div><br /></div><div>We had another opportunity to visit the Park three days later on our way from Butte, MT, to Cody, WY. We detoured from the interstate to see the North part of the Park. The approach to the north entrance at Gardiner, MT, is a beautiful drive following the Yellowstone River. The Northern Gate was not as crowded as the Southern Entrance (where we had waited almost half an hour to get in) but once in, we again found the out-of-sight crowds at Mammoth Hot Springs. We were prepared, however, and had brought sandwiches for a picnic since we knew we would not find any open restaurants in Yellowstone. Unfortunately, we were unable to find an empty picnic table there, or along the road, until we finally reached Canyon Village where there were actually parking places and a couple of free tables. The Northern Great Loop Road was a prettier drive than the southern road, but again it was filled with cars often blocking the entire road because someone thought they saw a bear. We saw one bear and one moose while sitting in stopped traffic--not a big deal, but I guess I'm a little jaded on wildlife viewing after living in Africa.</div><div><br /></div><div>So much for Yellowstone National Park. I think I prefer the San Juans. </div>Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-64939098030338832672021-06-12T11:34:00.000-07:002021-06-14T19:00:19.053-07:00Jackson, Wyoming and Grand Teton National Park<p> Our lodging for the next three nights would be the Jackson Hampton Inn. (BTW, Jackson is the town and Jackson Hole is the mountain valley where the town is located.) It, like all lodging in the Grand Teton/Yellowstone area, was terribly overpriced, but turned out to be a nice stay. We had a large accessible room which even had a whirlpool! But what I'll call the COVID overcrowding began before we even got to Jackson. A long, single-file, line of cars, RV's, SUV's, trucks and even off-road looking vehicles queued up for a slow crawl into town. It took over 15 minutes to creep our way to the main square and turn to our lodging. <br /></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQ0gahWKdG_-wcwsuHW9HIy88SGg7u5ehFnR4z3fSbQD_yBeWTLE79AoiYxzF34bFaS1oFix_T681d_XeBz-_2JCkr7WSeFzX4g3OJTIpAmk1HjoYMmUveGyIsz_jGYd02DxJSWN9oSRV/" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1276" data-original-width="1327" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQ0gahWKdG_-wcwsuHW9HIy88SGg7u5ehFnR4z3fSbQD_yBeWTLE79AoiYxzF34bFaS1oFix_T681d_XeBz-_2JCkr7WSeFzX4g3OJTIpAmk1HjoYMmUveGyIsz_jGYd02DxJSWN9oSRV/" width="250" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elk Antler Gateway to Jackson Main Square</td></tr></tbody></table></p></blockquote><p><br />We used the next day to explore the 40-mile long range of the Grand Teton peaks which stretch along the Wyoming border with Montana. The park was established in 1929. The Jackson Hole valley, which runs along the peaks and terminates at Yellowstone National Park, was acquired by John D. Rockefeller in the 1930's and eventually donated to the US to preserve the land for the nation. That act was strongly opposed by locals who wanted to keep the land in private hands, a small indication of the kind of politics which has ruled Wyoming since. </p><p><br /></p><p>The next day we drove the entire length of the park, ending our trek at Jackson Lake Lodge with yet another magnificent view of the peaks. Park services in all the national parks are still limited because of <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzHTI90VI8oU41LlPGKVLV4tetbbCWVlLUGV5BfO8t_0S4jQAS0AYm-yCXACTtpSQvweZMpmNYFs97dOu1WV0BYoXqdyo1nNqPBWritTZZzl43cFkkKkOISzpnVvstQluCvGo9TIBe2-9/s4000/20210607_144814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzHTI90VI8oU41LlPGKVLV4tetbbCWVlLUGV5BfO8t_0S4jQAS0AYm-yCXACTtpSQvweZMpmNYFs97dOu1WV0BYoXqdyo1nNqPBWritTZZzl43cFkkKkOISzpnVvstQluCvGo9TIBe2-9/s320/20210607_144814.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the Grand Tetons from the deck of Jackson Lake Lodge</td></tr></tbody></table>ongoing COVID restrictions. The restaurants at the Lodge were all closed and we were forced to buy take out and fight for a place to sit down and eat it. But it was a relaxing day of beautiful views. We returned to Jackson and a nice dinner at The Local bar and restaurant on the square after another long wait to enter the town. </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnHUEPVI0zZpAxUqlAxe909uIplNSI42kjThbrMAQa6lT3r-szab6-sKT37g8Oc0XFDDN9RAizaDb3ftjPgzn0pDDHB-0AXt9qu8ceSkmEEFWvdPVI6HtREvC_Z_Dw2uz78Zhr2DuhSUd/s4000/20210607_140418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnHUEPVI0zZpAxUqlAxe909uIplNSI42kjThbrMAQa6lT3r-szab6-sKT37g8Oc0XFDDN9RAizaDb3ftjPgzn0pDDHB-0AXt9qu8ceSkmEEFWvdPVI6HtREvC_Z_Dw2uz78Zhr2DuhSUd/s320/20210607_140418.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the Grand Tetons from the interior hall of Jackson Lake Lodge</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-26911358060679630682021-06-12T10:47:00.004-07:002021-06-12T15:56:26.392-07:00From Big Sky to Big Teats<p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhuLGNme3RNd3w4Fb_5yvKnJaF_E9buKzhxkQPkLPzB4ZMYsDTO-2rTDWHp3J6mVghIQR32z1itP-AHbq-l2t8hnVAnys-2LjJl_xwOMg15RTCJpsn8b14sqfbk2_UvjJxHRxbh80m4Mh/s4000/20210605_152907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhuLGNme3RNd3w4Fb_5yvKnJaF_E9buKzhxkQPkLPzB4ZMYsDTO-2rTDWHp3J6mVghIQR32z1itP-AHbq-l2t8hnVAnys-2LjJl_xwOMg15RTCJpsn8b14sqfbk2_UvjJxHRxbh80m4Mh/w320-h240/20210605_152907.jpg" title="Big Skies of Wyoming" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Skies of Wyoming</td></tr></tbody></table></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span>he drive from Broomfield, CO, to Casper, WY, was less than exciting. We took the "no highway" option on Google Maps and saw a lot of modern American strip centers, fast food joints, auto repair shops and stop lights. One night in Casper and off the next day for a drive across the prairies. Wyoming is justly noted for its Big Skies...it reminded me of West Texas, only greener. If you're wondering if you should pack all your designer masks for a road trip in the Western US, don't. Wyoming has one of the lowest vaccination rates in the US, but there is rarely a mask to be seen on anyone other than employees who are obviously required to wear them. </p></blockquote><p><br /></p><p>We only made one stop while crossing the state. That was at a state sponsored rest stop, one of the cleanest I've ever seen. It was totally fed by wind and/or sun energy and had clean, flush, paper-free toilets. Yes, we can do it, America!</p><p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjANl3v23CMYgSI0H47BQB0df6wQtZun4zpXOzBZA_P41CCzQ_wks8ItVhPp9L8mi2rjJGJLXrU66PFG8yEDPenKlh_9i-Gu00H2G4OGqTdX6wc2-MaJ97eorEZWwvxJMhJ_BkXGrZqC8Pq/s4000/20210605_153149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjANl3v23CMYgSI0H47BQB0df6wQtZun4zpXOzBZA_P41CCzQ_wks8ItVhPp9L8mi2rjJGJLXrU66PFG8yEDPenKlh_9i-Gu00H2G4OGqTdX6wc2-MaJ97eorEZWwvxJMhJ_BkXGrZqC8Pq/s320/20210605_153149.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wyoming rest stop</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>We were relieved to finally see the peaks of the Grand Tetons in the distance. The mountains were calling us and we had to go. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytWBenaQIctPZJoGblAJAjYq9QIioDtUqswJbtePG_tr2LKu_hKEP6N52aptwUggU4BITUTEOimDrcrEEaFXnrw4RFkcjnXdUDIQmikNelE0X2jA3fDOT7V_bVMRbeD9zzokCXPskicH0/s4000/20210606_144145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytWBenaQIctPZJoGblAJAjYq9QIioDtUqswJbtePG_tr2LKu_hKEP6N52aptwUggU4BITUTEOimDrcrEEaFXnrw4RFkcjnXdUDIQmikNelE0X2jA3fDOT7V_bVMRbeD9zzokCXPskicH0/w400-h300/20210606_144145.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Grand Tetons</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-49951627817106501142021-06-06T20:04:00.002-07:002021-06-06T20:04:49.356-07:00Road Trippin'<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"> After the year+ of COVID 19 fears, restrictions, and solitude, what more could one ask than a couple of weeks on the road? Miles of highway with the only purpose being to get away from "it all." What must you do to get back the sense that God is in Her Heaven and all's right with the world? We're heading north. First stop is a touch of family/normalcy/mask-less love in Bloomfield, CO; second stop the beauties of our glorious USA, Yellowstone, WY; third stop, a return to the past with Dwight's first job out of college (1957), the mines of Butte, MT; and finally, back home to Durango with relief and appreciation for all the blessings of our lives. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgeAFfRAw4oH3HJBuAJuWVYrvMbaenu1HUXlhdtqnYz6nsDDan5iZPwJJOKPOV_I66gut2HL-_wgZJpJ4xqS6vJ-rNVtNxunro4SFt8-WHcSym6bwPcNXClV3ci-TRmS1q02yfgLsSQec/s2048/20210604_140343_01.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgeAFfRAw4oH3HJBuAJuWVYrvMbaenu1HUXlhdtqnYz6nsDDan5iZPwJJOKPOV_I66gut2HL-_wgZJpJ4xqS6vJ-rNVtNxunro4SFt8-WHcSym6bwPcNXClV3ci-TRmS1q02yfgLsSQec/s320/20210604_140343_01.jpg" /></a></p></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>First stop, Broomfield, Colorado, to visit our daughter and her husband. I had stupidly planned a mid-week visit to people still involved in the Monday to Friday world of work; however, it ended well: two lovely evening visits for dinner and drinks with family, and a day spent at the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder which we had often driven past but never stopped to stroll and visit. <p></p><p>The Pearl Street Mall prompted thoughts of how downtown Durango could be turned into a Pearl Street Mall. No! Please! Durango is a "real" town. I remember that Durango promoted itself as being "real" when we first moved there and I wondered what that meant. Definitions are important here, and after 16 years, I now understand that I'm not anxious to see Durango turned into a Pearl Street Mall, although I am still unable to explain why. The Durango vibe is a bit more urban than it used to be, but not so urban or touristy yet as to be a pedestrian mall targeted to tourists. I can still drive downtown and see people I know. I still know the subtleties of local politics as reported in the Herald. Durango is REAL.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hi0I3YV6pWt94pV8B-4HQT2WG2eurSSng6ghzw1ZrEodxELEFxUXVySM0WSnZ-G5Cm7NhIOXvWd5mcutSm7RzA-9f_N9-rdJinENNJDIgAYQUFJhhib_ysJ0AXP9rydOrm8RSE1ybCHx/s2048/20210604_140020.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hi0I3YV6pWt94pV8B-4HQT2WG2eurSSng6ghzw1ZrEodxELEFxUXVySM0WSnZ-G5Cm7NhIOXvWd5mcutSm7RzA-9f_N9-rdJinENNJDIgAYQUFJhhib_ysJ0AXP9rydOrm8RSE1ybCHx/s320/20210604_140020.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMjK9j9OXOEwRgqJ_-rGmJiI4DKCcOJV9cIvfRum6w8kB9h2ZjN2jaxD3v5DFhVNu94JaUrr0n9EZ5ruWofUaG5TT0ZtpfJrjRLfRLZ4EVIa_yCbKZKlDn8MabwXByzdJmxY8bLeqFmPq/s320/20210604_133625.jpg" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day drinking on the Pearl Street Mall</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjErJ0dXu3CNJcxlv_JGpSrO9FZzqhp3GVnRn9r67mafKWTn_zk3V_vZ3a-McPZNDZsdkRkU-JVKnk8uSiUyWOtvwUTYJEIvLJLV6UPJpBBzXn5Cz45mTd1haiaRHmD74V29B7RPbBjK6s-/s2048/20210604_140714_06.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjErJ0dXu3CNJcxlv_JGpSrO9FZzqhp3GVnRn9r67mafKWTn_zk3V_vZ3a-McPZNDZsdkRkU-JVKnk8uSiUyWOtvwUTYJEIvLJLV6UPJpBBzXn5Cz45mTd1haiaRHmD74V29B7RPbBjK6s-/s320/20210604_140714_06.jpg" width="320" /></a></p>Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-67027386432269971142019-11-12T14:29:00.000-08:002019-11-13T06:40:08.625-08:00Vacation Magic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The author mesmerized by an expert - Kona Kozy</td></tr>
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Vacation means escape; the meaning of vacate is, after all, getting out of a place that was previously occupied. The occupied spaces are sometimes only in your mind. There are so many cares involved with day-to-day living, even in semi-retirement...put this away, wash this, don't forget your doctor's appointment, what's for dinner, does the car need servicing? Vacations are necessary respites from the quotidian.<br />
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One of the best escapes of this vacation was a one-man performance from a magician/comedian who calls himself Kona Kozy. Kozy is a large and loud man who brings to the stage a rare combination of bombast and subtlety. He is no ordinary magician; nor is he an ordinary comic. In fact, there's nothing ordinary about him. His legerdemain involves more than sleight of hand; it includes reading minds. When a calculator is used to add, subtract, multiply & divide random numbers supplied by the audience results in a phone number that, when called, rings in the audience, it must give you pause.<br />
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But the astonishment of the mind-reading was exceeded by the laughter, and therein lies the true magic. A true vacation. <span style="text-align: center;">Next time your on the Big Island of Hawaii, don't miss it. Kona Kozy at the Tiki Palace in the shops at Mauna Lani: </span><a href="http://www.konakozy.com/" style="text-align: center;" target="_blank">www.konakozy.com</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span><br />
<br />Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-13510556040869569252019-11-12T12:35:00.002-08:002019-11-13T06:44:35.004-08:00Vacation Magic 2 - Swimming with the Manta RaysYou can't get too much vacation while on vacation. It wasn't enough to escape through comedy and magic one night, we decided to escape in the ocean on the second night.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUo8bxKEaAakkLGVev45ZfoMTo3_P2qiqCvcm2f9-rdTw_2MYKAhoU7777imelY033wvuQQXnU8g29nmKurhysyvqU7O8kkPce_x4m8CfblIcNAE6Gl7fg_jHJoKPVdgzUqnt8nIiFoJV/s1600/IMG_20191111_173256650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmUo8bxKEaAakkLGVev45ZfoMTo3_P2qiqCvcm2f9-rdTw_2MYKAhoU7777imelY033wvuQQXnU8g29nmKurhysyvqU7O8kkPce_x4m8CfblIcNAE6Gl7fg_jHJoKPVdgzUqnt8nIiFoJV/s320/IMG_20191111_173256650.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
From the magic of laughter, we went to the magic of silence. A unique activity on the Island of Hawaii is the opportunity to have a night swim with the manta rays. A half hour sunset ride on a comfortable catamaran took us to a cove on the Kona coast known for its plankton where, attracted by lights and food, manta rays come to feed.<br />
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The outfitter supplied wet suits and snorkeling gear, and we all jumped into a warm ocean, grabbed onto a handle attached to a surf board, ducked our heads into the ocean, let our legs float behind us, and focused our eyes and ears on the silent beauty of the underwater. Almost immediately a gigantic dark figure with a huge gaping mouth rose from the deep circled underneath almost touching us with a glowing white, spotted underbody and disappeared back into the depths. The only sound was the sound of our own breathing magnified by the water and the snorkel. A surreal and magic universe. Ahh, vacation.<br />
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-41687798673529116232019-11-11T12:06:00.001-08:002019-11-11T12:06:29.164-08:00Another Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUV6dT3iqqK5eOsPLzRNn9bCKUGvbeaTLkGpFpL61MbLIZe6LPH3dtFk0vQtwyDIDRfsPmb55HXZV73lEYQSPAm2uTvVLBz0FWfutX3dR9tPwObvyO41WpjRLfHmjVfMbYrdm81c50hbx1/s1600/IMG_20191111_092308769.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUV6dT3iqqK5eOsPLzRNn9bCKUGvbeaTLkGpFpL61MbLIZe6LPH3dtFk0vQtwyDIDRfsPmb55HXZV73lEYQSPAm2uTvVLBz0FWfutX3dR9tPwObvyO41WpjRLfHmjVfMbYrdm81c50hbx1/s400/IMG_20191111_092308769.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The perfect tropical breakfast at Sheraton Kona Resort on the Big Island</td></tr>
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It's easy to understand why Hawaii is high on the bucket lists of so many people. The weather, the music, the resorts, the ocean, the papaya and pineapple, the people...everything combines to create the perfect vacation renewal spot. The word fecundity comes to mind. Some vacations provide you with stimulating new experiences, filling you up, enriching you. Hawaii's beach resorts allow you to empty out, be still, and be at peace with nature, life and death. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our little slice of heaven.</td></tr>
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A group of four friends and I traveled from Durango to visit a friend who moved here about 7+ years ago. Such a different vibe from the mountains. Yesterday was the fourth day of the trip and, true to form, it was "catch up" day. Tour operators have long known that the 4th travel day is a low-energy, low-motivation day. Two of us took advantage of that low energy to station ourselves in a lounge chair by the pool overlooking the Pacific. But first, we took the morning to arrange for Hawaiian adventures, including dinner and the performance of a magician/comic, swimming with the manta rays, and finishing with a sunset dinner cruise before our departure. I know what you're thinking! Now is the time to book your tickets!</div>
Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-20873267071683265402019-11-07T16:52:00.003-08:002019-11-07T16:52:59.270-08:00Waiting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Don't travel (especially when Mercury is retrograde) unless you're prepared to wait. Here I am in the United Club at SFO airport waiting for a flight to Kona Hawaii. It's only delayed by 45 minutes, but I'm on my second Chardonnay and hunkering down to endure whatever happens. Incredibly enough, it's just what I need...a little true down time. Nowhere to be; no one I need to talk to; no chores to be done. A true vacation in an airport lounge. <br />
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As waits go, airport lounges are much better than the hustle and bustle of the general vibe in the airport terminal. I actually deserted my group to land here in the lounge because I had a pass that would expire in 7 days, and am feeling a bit guilty for deserting them and enjoying the "free" wine and eats while my friends pay good money to eat the drab airport fare. I'm travelling with a group of 3 friends to Hawaii to celebrate another friend's birthday. We're a group of "old" friends who were originally brought together by our Hawaiian buddy, so it's a reunion of sorts. There are so many reasons to travel and get away from the usual, and travelling just to get away is a good reason. I think I'll go get another Chardonnay. <br />
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Where do you want to go next? And why? For whatever reason, get on the road. Cheers!Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-12669459631514340232019-05-24T14:11:00.003-07:002019-05-24T14:11:51.557-07:00Censorship! <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLDWyil5TPOJQNsi2qKLp1dgKgvpTkN21HlSJkx2GzwDTV-Jh0mXzQBFNxMKwrwXVwYnSScIlNSRqRXdKZCSnbhesGI-snWc058cS6PaC01c2GKSMjMULPx1b0JFLE27JC1j7GJMZihFb/s1600/china-provinces-map.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="822" data-original-width="900" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLDWyil5TPOJQNsi2qKLp1dgKgvpTkN21HlSJkx2GzwDTV-Jh0mXzQBFNxMKwrwXVwYnSScIlNSRqRXdKZCSnbhesGI-snWc058cS6PaC01c2GKSMjMULPx1b0JFLE27JC1j7GJMZihFb/s320/china-provinces-map.gif" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Provincial Map of China. </td></tr>
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This trip blog was sadly interrupted by censorship. After our port stay in Busan, South Korea, we slipped over the Yellow Sea to Dalian, China, a remarkably large and robust trading city on the tip of a peninsula in the northern Chinese province of Liaoning. There we discovered that Google, our blog's host, does not operate in China. Google pulled its search engine and other services out of China in 2010 when faced with the reality of Chinese Censorship which required Google to block many sites which the Chinese government objected to. It's known as the Great Firewall of China. I remember reading about this incident and thinking that Google had done the right thing, but then, like most news items, it faded from my memory and my attention. But now, as Google is considering kowtowing to the Chinese demands and returning to this lucrative market, the ugly face of censorship has come into clear focus.<br />
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One of the benefits of travel is allowing you to appreciate your own situation. That is especially true of the privileges and rights we have and take for granted as citizens of the United States. China brings that all into focus. So I am going to take advantage of those unique American freedoms in the next few blogs and tell you what I really think about China. It's not all pretty. <br />
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Meanwhile, upon returning home, we were greeted by surly employees of TSA. Normally, we have TSA pre-check since we are trusted travelers. Since our boarding passes had been issued by Nippon Airways in Shanghai, however, they did not have that information. When we tried the TSA pre-check line, the agent scowled and told us we should've asked United Airlines to re-issue the boarding passes. We were told to enter the regular line. It was not a busy evening, so I guess they were looking for the right people to annoy. I was patted down by a dumpy little lady who probably hasn't smiled in years. Dwight, in his terminal-owned wheelchair, underwent a 20-minute wipe down checking for explosive agents. <br />
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Why do we put up with this? Does this really make us safer? Are we that cowed by the idea of a terrorist blowing us up? If we complain about having tyrannical leadership now, we probably have asked for it by agreeing to accept contempt and rudeness from under-educated employees while going about our normal business. A good step toward restoring America to greatness would be to do away with TSA, or at least to train their agents to show some human kindness and discretion in their treatment of travelers. </div>
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-16046111865054641342019-03-20T21:12:00.000-07:002019-03-20T22:15:47.388-07:00Nagasaki and Sea Scapes<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDhWRbtPh-waRcVzKCq2AAvfEig6AIUDEf4AAt3HugKgqJeVWnB5PFYVvZot-Bm5pG_9u_i5KZAZB3GRthZYuxHNo1Fmb9dxMURCAvQvrXXbj7PpCQH9DQWsoZsu_wVZp-0cwvhF9nCRM/s1600/IMG_20190316_104253813.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDhWRbtPh-waRcVzKCq2AAvfEig6AIUDEf4AAt3HugKgqJeVWnB5PFYVvZot-Bm5pG_9u_i5KZAZB3GRthZYuxHNo1Fmb9dxMURCAvQvrXXbj7PpCQH9DQWsoZsu_wVZp-0cwvhF9nCRM/s320/IMG_20190316_104253813.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kofukuji Temple</td></tr>
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Upon our arrival in Nagasaki, we went through immigration. Bureaucratic immigration procedures have been a pain throughoutthe Far East, and but we showed the proper stamp on the copies of our passports and we're ushered through. We proceeded to the tourist information desk to see if there was an attraction that might be possible for Dwight with his walker. The agent suggested a Buddhist temple she said was very flat. So we hired a taxi and went. Oops. Not flat. Obstacles everywhere. It's amazing how much people take their mobility for granted...me included. Anyway, the sun was out for a change and Dwight was able to sit in the sun in courtyard on his walker while I made a quick visit. It was a deserted, lovely site.<br />
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After a short visit, we took a taxi to the shopping arcade looking for a Japanese restaurant the tourist official had suggested. She scored 100 on that one. We chose table and chairs over sitting on the floor and enjoyed a nice lunch with the natives. We then hired a taxi to take us on a short tour.<br />
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First stop was the Peace Park.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Statue to Peace in Nagasaki</td></tr>
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It was rather depressing to see another park dedicated to US atomic destruction in WWII. We then had the taxi driver taketak to a final site, an old Christian Church. Nagasaki occupies a spot of land which has until fairly recently only been accessible by sea and in the past it was occupied by the Dutch and other Europeans.<br />
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All in all we would miss Japan. Everything there was orderly and clean -- drivers stuck to their lanes and didn't honk their horns, and there was no trash on the street. People were helpful and polite. We surmised that things might be different in China.<br />
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The next day was finally the "Ahh" day at sea I had been waiting for. Sleep late, read, wander around, and give body and mind a chance to absorb the sights and sounds of the last few days. Although still too cold to enjoy the outdoors, the sea is very calming.<br />
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-54211192849077595502019-03-18T00:42:00.000-07:002019-03-18T02:55:46.459-07:00Busan, South Korea -- New Pin on the Map<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BIFF Square</td></tr>
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The contrast between the South Korean port city of Busan and our Japanese ports was noticeable. Traffic strayed from their lanes, horns honked, and litter appeared in the streets. The ship's shuttle dropped us off at BIFF square, a square commerating the Busan International Film Festival. Who knew that Busan had an international film festival? The square was filled with food venders and a variety of shops. Busan is the second largest city in South Korea after Seoul and the 9th largest port in the world.<br />
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The Pick Me Mall and the Ding Dong store were side-by-side.<br />
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We needed a toilet so we decided to look for a bar. We saw a couple of signs with beer posted in English, but they didn't open until 5:00 p.m., and then closed the next morning at 6:00 a.m. This quater of the city was obviously the place to party the night away. Although not hungry, we finally found a restaurant open (it was 11:00 a.m) so we decided to go in and order something just for the right to use the toilet. It turned out to be a specialty restaurant in pork. The ham hocks were stacked head high. <br />
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There were only 3 choices on the menu, so we pointed to the one that looked the most attractive and by the time all was said and done, there were over 15 bowls and plates on the table. The pork was very thinly sliced and covered in chopped raw garlic. Delicious!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our lunch </td></tr>
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After lunch, Dwight decided he'd had enough of big city life, so he got on the shuttle bus back to the ship, and I decided to explore on foot. I discovered acre upon acre of fish markets and, after a 3-mile walk, I, too, took the shuttle back to the haven of the ship where the cabin was cleaned and dinner was on the table.<br />
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<br />Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-59178546680660211412019-03-16T20:09:00.001-07:002019-03-16T20:14:36.145-07:00Hiroshima<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUM1DqivWP53QWhsbvG0bJd9rbZU_r_Cf7g6lLr66BPudMJyw99ipaybR06JiwSd82_fnhq2_PczqJxIg-tMPaGMb3D5z2U_6FG3U-qIgLzA1EoltRTYGd46M0W9iMwJjqVHw_8TT52ya5/s1600/IMG_20190314_104246720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUM1DqivWP53QWhsbvG0bJd9rbZU_r_Cf7g6lLr66BPudMJyw99ipaybR06JiwSd82_fnhq2_PczqJxIg-tMPaGMb3D5z2U_6FG3U-qIgLzA1EoltRTYGd46M0W9iMwJjqVHw_8TT52ya5/s320/IMG_20190314_104246720.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Peace dome, only structure left standing<br />
after the atom bomb blast.</td></tr>
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The title of this blog post does not need explanation. The name Hiroshima stands for absolute destruction. At 8:15 am on 6 August 1945, the US Air Force detonated an atomic bomb 600 meters above the city and the result is recorded in the photo at left. Over 70,000 people were killed instantly, estimated to consist of about 20,000 combatants, 2000 Korean slaves, and the rest civilians including many women and children. The river delta city has been rebuilt from the ashes, but the unreconstructed Peace dome seen above and below marks the entry to the Peace Park which has been dedicated to the proposition that such an act should never occur again. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6hIYV-jun_MaEpqgyGZXPoB7qAdnqx9K0wMbUZJ397Nww07U9v_3s8_de439DNYzL3eX7xmXpBkl4T9IV7O1HVpcQf79BmQ-zMxXtyk21fBpK7630hsZ2MUeTdDKkG2hsh-4cwaBIBVt/s1600/IMG_20190314_090018956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6hIYV-jun_MaEpqgyGZXPoB7qAdnqx9K0wMbUZJ397Nww07U9v_3s8_de439DNYzL3eX7xmXpBkl4T9IV7O1HVpcQf79BmQ-zMxXtyk21fBpK7630hsZ2MUeTdDKkG2hsh-4cwaBIBVt/s200/IMG_20190314_090018956.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Peace Dome today</td></tr>
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A flame burns in the park and shall be extinguished only after all atomic weapons have been destroyed, a prospect that doesn't risk happening anytime in the near future.<br />
In our roles as hosts, we accompanied 25 Virtuoso pilgrims on a tour of the Peace Park and the Peace museum. It was a nice, sunny day, if a bit cool, and a perfect day to stroll through the park. The complimentary excursion is included for cruise passengers who have booked their travel through a Virtuoso agent. Virtuoso has over 20,000 agents worldwide (I am one of them) who dedicate themselves to excellence in the profession. As a smaller tour than the one offered by the ship, we were able to stroll through the park at a leisurely pace and absorb the many different monuments and plaques which occupy the park.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvsLntQUtlwyyw5NDJ5YZ2MFIB2ZxKncol9l6UHwF89ASXyNxWkL1_HcMxbSBiIDNO6tHYxj9ogJV5R615nBGV8NYPE8NxxjfIFfF9IElSj-l9h86votLgNYwdXN2U6P3y543VIgNwloX3/s1600/IMG_20190314_091005168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvsLntQUtlwyyw5NDJ5YZ2MFIB2ZxKncol9l6UHwF89ASXyNxWkL1_HcMxbSBiIDNO6tHYxj9ogJV5R615nBGV8NYPE8NxxjfIFfF9IElSj-l9h86votLgNYwdXN2U6P3y543VIgNwloX3/s320/IMG_20190314_091005168.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A willow weeps in the Hiroshima Peace Park </td></tr>
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The tour ended in the Peace museum which includes an interactive map showing the city before and after the bomb. It's hard to picture the meeting in which generals and civilians discussed which city would best suit the purpose of ending a brutal war by the means of unspeakable brutality and destruction. Hiroshima had no prisoner-of-war camps (although 2 American soldiers lost their lives), and contained many military depots, so they decided it was a perfect target. The citizens had prepared for traditional bombing (bad enough) but had no idea of the black fire which would reign down on them. Reliving the experience through the interactive map gives one chills and sends you away praying, "Never again." But then we returned to the ship to learn of a young man in New Zealand who willfully and angrily shot down over 50 innocent people. It seems brutality and destruction will always be with us. <br />
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A nice lunch was included in the tour, after which we went to a beautiful little park in the middle of the rebuilt downtown. All in all, it was a nice day giving one pause for reflection.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkEE4gpbyQAznp-E03h6vfLPNqHt4WaXgxnmBEHrAREFh5Rj3sQ3C6Fu7W_-vz1rZ0L_0EGfGvTA8ndRJP4O5TXvNpBv8lZjv5nrxlCBAXZSXN2X66dMUINSDNvAzDvBgHZer9t_xFl8PA/s1600/IMG_20190314_093354471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkEE4gpbyQAznp-E03h6vfLPNqHt4WaXgxnmBEHrAREFh5Rj3sQ3C6Fu7W_-vz1rZ0L_0EGfGvTA8ndRJP4O5TXvNpBv8lZjv5nrxlCBAXZSXN2X66dMUINSDNvAzDvBgHZer9t_xFl8PA/s320/IMG_20190314_093354471.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ringing the large peace bell</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBteqEWCqqVW0X58SqFyr-sI_qiWg8CV44OjIAbAdar2GH70eaabFyk5i-cIFO3c6Bt434xusynEUwY76eCzNb2AYTsYxH89tKy6PamfRt0dQct5WrePekbPSSTc1Mgs_gg4BnEDeD3pPc/s1600/IMG_20190314_094533460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBteqEWCqqVW0X58SqFyr-sI_qiWg8CV44OjIAbAdar2GH70eaabFyk5i-cIFO3c6Bt434xusynEUwY76eCzNb2AYTsYxH89tKy6PamfRt0dQct5WrePekbPSSTc1Mgs_gg4BnEDeD3pPc/s200/IMG_20190314_094533460.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Over a million folded paper peace cranes have their home here. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaE4GWCBlrtfPgz82srn7vQDd82csGlBTBv3NX8hguasFNa6rPUcPAxoSesMrxTVu9k-adP-eeFv3fcn3Nu9I0Wy8UqTMAj7-UjdDW2xDBI1sv0MWJ_lqa3oh3nXgEFBkDJrokLb6vEEW6/s1600/IMG_20190314_140337255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaE4GWCBlrtfPgz82srn7vQDd82csGlBTBv3NX8hguasFNa6rPUcPAxoSesMrxTVu9k-adP-eeFv3fcn3Nu9I0Wy8UqTMAj7-UjdDW2xDBI1sv0MWJ_lqa3oh3nXgEFBkDJrokLb6vEEW6/s320/IMG_20190314_140337255.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dwight in the small city park. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_KnAINH8VbSoTXdXd0o6-DmNamzwmIg0YcdwZWhPVZOGjkQeUROH1qbdi6KhXnFWQX1oBrGPFLYmkp-5rCM4MNiJzgv2w0MKvpaiFbSVJKQkU24Kcvhu2cWPssFd-khPciv1NhH9WOy98/s1600/IMG_20190314_095916625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_KnAINH8VbSoTXdXd0o6-DmNamzwmIg0YcdwZWhPVZOGjkQeUROH1qbdi6KhXnFWQX1oBrGPFLYmkp-5rCM4MNiJzgv2w0MKvpaiFbSVJKQkU24Kcvhu2cWPssFd-khPciv1NhH9WOy98/s320/IMG_20190314_095916625.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back through the graves of ashes to the Peace dome. </td></tr>
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-57179839006979439632019-03-16T00:23:00.002-07:002019-03-16T00:23:30.024-07:00Glorious Kyoto<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivoxSLYfZbiyNmB_v8X3y1cxT7FNS6Tbe5rsfFs915U8Q8lD2Pol1ZmMSwCV8AuJyrW8aKVHOm39OEjoChTav_WdRVQB9cr_OWGPlv2LhEpyrn8-phL-hhuEXide8eKOHPoTqCQKIQkfhv/s1600/IMG_20190313_101346113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivoxSLYfZbiyNmB_v8X3y1cxT7FNS6Tbe5rsfFs915U8Q8lD2Pol1ZmMSwCV8AuJyrW8aKVHOm39OEjoChTav_WdRVQB9cr_OWGPlv2LhEpyrn8-phL-hhuEXide8eKOHPoTqCQKIQkfhv/s400/IMG_20190313_101346113.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With our driver Takashi at the Golden Pagoda. They<br />made wheelchairs available,..very nice!</td></tr>
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Kyoto is a city which has always been on my bucket list. I'm not sure why. I guess it's because I've never talked to a person who had anything bad to say about it. It has history; it has panache; it has style; it has class...a place worthy of a visit. We don't take many shore excursions, partly due to Dwight's limitations, but also due to our travel history which often leaves us less than enthusiastic about visiting the usual crowded tourist sites.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiccowiSKVGvFS78YQUs9Z1fe8ErOaEK0sUePhgn93stTIQra0JJNc0e_eQzHqkvP9AhFwGFSkycV6eUmrTIE6TAYS7dNQ37gdJfvSo0q18LvzdxvlaEeYVjD882QnYfWhM3Z_9IJ7Y3tip/s1600/IMG_20190313_123120914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiccowiSKVGvFS78YQUs9Z1fe8ErOaEK0sUePhgn93stTIQra0JJNc0e_eQzHqkvP9AhFwGFSkycV6eUmrTIE6TAYS7dNQ37gdJfvSo0q18LvzdxvlaEeYVjD882QnYfWhM3Z_9IJ7Y3tip/s320/IMG_20190313_123120914.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Takashi and Kanako at lunch </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAj80KgoLZAxKXmKe6FfMZwEHEr6VMXyKiiQ8IENGOV_Rf6i81raUN4sfOUlVGMI8_gfLAbWCQEua6tk1P-9fdiKouXW4PH0ZAl9S1YxdF5eWpEZ-wtDGYZqm75sQ8V3JMTvXC-JvwgkFx/s1600/IMG_20190313_121403883.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAj80KgoLZAxKXmKe6FfMZwEHEr6VMXyKiiQ8IENGOV_Rf6i81raUN4sfOUlVGMI8_gfLAbWCQEua6tk1P-9fdiKouXW4PH0ZAl9S1YxdF5eWpEZ-wtDGYZqm75sQ8V3JMTvXC-JvwgkFx/s200/IMG_20190313_121403883.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch!</td></tr>
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Like a doctor whose family goes without medical attention, as a travel agent I often am late making our vacation plans. So two days before our stop in Kyoto, I requested a private tour from Tours by Locals. They came through with a last minute guide, she was able to find a driver, and we were rewarded with a great day. Our guide was named Kanako, grandaughter of a Geisha. She had used a taxi driver in Kyoto named Takashi while on another tour and called him up at the last minute to see if he would undertake a private tour, picking us up at our dock in Kobe, driving the hour to Kyoto and touring, and returning us to the ship. He was a jewel. They were both perfect companions for the day.<br />
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We started at the Golden Pavilion, jockeying with other tourists and large groups from our ship to get the perfect photo. "Oh, Pshaw," as my grandfather would say. That just wasn't fun. So, the next stop on our tour was the Zen rock garden with fewer tourists and a peaceful setting. Kanako told us Queen Elizabeth visited the site and admitted she didn't understand it, but she liked it. There are 15 rocks and they told us it is impossible to take in all 15 in one glance. A contemplative site.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2lEVZvaPEWDW4q-TWlaE4ZNhar6Uvw7Pu2n0y1hZaSNLXy-Z2fV4rSytkvgIgrOA2B0_HXxhXfmYjV2NmWb_L3G3CvIMal2clm7jYeU0R7yFljggqgbuPdlvsRi-aFPsgrNzQlsO87qq/s1600/IMG_20190313_112524542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2lEVZvaPEWDW4q-TWlaE4ZNhar6Uvw7Pu2n0y1hZaSNLXy-Z2fV4rSytkvgIgrOA2B0_HXxhXfmYjV2NmWb_L3G3CvIMal2clm7jYeU0R7yFljggqgbuPdlvsRi-aFPsgrNzQlsO87qq/s320/IMG_20190313_112524542.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zen Rock Garden</td></tr>
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When I told Kanako how much I enjoyed finding the Shinto shrine in the middle of big-city Kobe, she told us that Kyoto is a city of shrines and temples. There are over 1800...about 1400 +/- Buddhist temples and 400 +/- Shinto shrines. Takashi, who is a native of Kyoto, then took us on a tour of some of the nicest local shrines and temples. To me, it was better than the Emperor's Golden Temple. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2tnGFq8suxeg-waenW2NZ1Y_9_trkS-kmhyufPTvaxefGFKQbtuPxb7N9FSlDfNOvDD-YEFXkKrWUITpb3RBJr1YZtZglWzJQSw6gAYH7qNNPtmC70qVltqtS_io9j1D312Sp0zUynU1S/s1600/IMG_20190313_133644286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2tnGFq8suxeg-waenW2NZ1Y_9_trkS-kmhyufPTvaxefGFKQbtuPxb7N9FSlDfNOvDD-YEFXkKrWUITpb3RBJr1YZtZglWzJQSw6gAYH7qNNPtmC70qVltqtS_io9j1D312Sp0zUynU1S/s320/IMG_20190313_133644286.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking for love at the Shinto Shrine. Shinto<br />deals with the happy occasions, like birth<br />and weddings. Buddhism deals with<br />grimmer things like death and misery. </td></tr>
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I even learned how to make a Shinto prayer, a combination of bows, claps, bell-ringing and words. It's a very nice ritual, and it made me wonder why I hesitate to bow before the altar in the Episcopal church I now attend. Respect, after all, is respect. Shinto is an ancient, indigenous religion which venerates nature. It's polytheistic, if is theistic at all. I have great respect for it. <br />
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Kanako and Takashi joined us for lunch at a small local restaurant after asking us our preferences. It was a special meal. In the afternoon, we visited a much larger Shinto shrine which specializes in marriage ceremonies. Again, this was almost free of tourists. As a topping on the cake, Takashi then drove us by the places he thought we ought to see in Kyoto including the Geisha district and the large gate that appears in the movie <i>The Last Shogun. </i>We returned to the ship a little early after a very full and satisfying tour of Kyoto. Tours by Locals...great choice!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ncm9TEAx9nsIuPqiy1ZEgJWK8oXiaHzhQrtHH6FL6FVJrgPiaN3b71jB6m2OPOsQQLuPZdMDnXx-lup8O_wzLZ1NDVCWnacF591sjp6FH4ySTgF87l8O6jcva1D0vMqygrU9r3v2_BqC/s1600/IMG_20190313_132431170_BURST000_COVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ncm9TEAx9nsIuPqiy1ZEgJWK8oXiaHzhQrtHH6FL6FVJrgPiaN3b71jB6m2OPOsQQLuPZdMDnXx-lup8O_wzLZ1NDVCWnacF591sjp6FH4ySTgF87l8O6jcva1D0vMqygrU9r3v2_BqC/s200/IMG_20190313_132431170_BURST000_COVER.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the cherry blossoms</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLLPv0aoJR5TWDKQ1UPiHYBWB5vjCfXgF8_wXxlBNXzWt21JK1XAjCYQuj3l-eaxJAjdiutNxoRUlTsvtjlxq1sWOduRsTL_4t7j4o6z-GWhyphenhyphenebYyUFg6QYAwuRWy-P6jDs6Drx_BE7BJr/s1600/IMG_20190313_130753259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLLPv0aoJR5TWDKQ1UPiHYBWB5vjCfXgF8_wXxlBNXzWt21JK1XAjCYQuj3l-eaxJAjdiutNxoRUlTsvtjlxq1sWOduRsTL_4t7j4o6z-GWhyphenhyphenebYyUFg6QYAwuRWy-P6jDs6Drx_BE7BJr/s320/IMG_20190313_130753259.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neighborhood Shinto Shrine</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMBeghHQyrrMQBlefGlHsdCqqMAZnHm_0d4SUfokrMOkWx4Hy0qKGbi9fW-AUCQM5rFsR371C9evSF0dEjjAbUaJSen1qLB5mhKTHfuJP42j2Afs8PTWKd2bim1M8cKnBXQMemx5toG-2/s1600/IMG_20190313_112427231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaMBeghHQyrrMQBlefGlHsdCqqMAZnHm_0d4SUfokrMOkWx4Hy0qKGbi9fW-AUCQM5rFsR371C9evSF0dEjjAbUaJSen1qLB5mhKTHfuJP42j2Afs8PTWKd2bim1M8cKnBXQMemx5toG-2/s320/IMG_20190313_112427231.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAuTAGdB4aJCfFp1qRNGPAK4rBAcMlR9QvU0Xhx5WXuXeTXB49mlDZBbgtma6XPKU0v-dq_k3UksI7vMebO_VPqFIinoTh6QZRkQdYfMpYFOyIhX8HcJG1kJC4N-Z04dDlLJDETDl4XHo1/s1600/IMG_20190313_140100406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAuTAGdB4aJCfFp1qRNGPAK4rBAcMlR9QvU0Xhx5WXuXeTXB49mlDZBbgtma6XPKU0v-dq_k3UksI7vMebO_VPqFIinoTh6QZRkQdYfMpYFOyIhX8HcJG1kJC4N-Z04dDlLJDETDl4XHo1/s320/IMG_20190313_140100406.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steps climbed by Tom Cruise in some movie or other :) </td></tr>
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<br />Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-28984429305720495712019-03-14T17:10:00.000-07:002019-03-14T17:10:51.147-07:00Life Lessons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwodai1R80jP1XWjR1gJbtlRgX7jGb_xo70X9ONSfoGYt58uL_cbsoaxUsQ4yduUcpVFvFmKtoWrXtVYI-UjblBRCkMaf9kb8yJSiHj_AACXtpU08V48cATZYsuVh4-1M04DfvFEmxWzh1/s1600/IMG_20190312_144259029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwodai1R80jP1XWjR1gJbtlRgX7jGb_xo70X9ONSfoGYt58uL_cbsoaxUsQ4yduUcpVFvFmKtoWrXtVYI-UjblBRCkMaf9kb8yJSiHj_AACXtpU08V48cATZYsuVh4-1M04DfvFEmxWzh1/s320/IMG_20190312_144259029.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daimaru Department Store in Kobe...could be <br />
Macy's in NYC</td></tr>
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One of the strangest things about travel is its insistence on teaching you something about your life. We had left our warm, cozy home in Durango about five days before arriving in Kobe, Japan. I hesitate to say that the five days spent in between Durango and Kobe were miserable, but I think I can safely say they were uncomfortable. We had long hours of disorienting travel, rain in Hong Kong, high seas in the South China Sea, rain again in Keelung, more high seas travelling to Okinawa, and nothing of interest to us in Okinawa. But now, as the sun rose on the 6th day, a new world was revealed. We had found smooth sailing and arrived in calm waters to the Japanese city of Kobe. We breathed in the sunshine and everything was bright and fresh and newly minted.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2t8dCZ-6mNFdMo5Fk2uWpVdK21Dnzo7iy2JxpUmQJxlOFOaHrQ96xjd695X70my1Tq9aMdbAmUvIz3NYI0b6yk2kT0RVKtM_mxQRiCZA-iiOiIE6vL4eFexZMgPMTVYaFFMtuW_JwQd96/s1600/IMG_20190312_152021784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2t8dCZ-6mNFdMo5Fk2uWpVdK21Dnzo7iy2JxpUmQJxlOFOaHrQ96xjd695X70my1Tq9aMdbAmUvIz3NYI0b6yk2kT0RVKtM_mxQRiCZA-iiOiIE6vL4eFexZMgPMTVYaFFMtuW_JwQd96/s200/IMG_20190312_152021784.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kobe Shopping Mall</td></tr>
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We docked around noon, and I was eager to explore new territory. Dwight decided to stay aboard ship and enjoy the quiet, but I took a shuttle into town and discovered a bustling city center. It was New York, only newer, shinier, cleaner, and more polite. One thing we would discover about Japan is its familiarity with disaster. In 1995, Kobe suffered an epic earthquake which demolished much of the city. As has happened in many Japanese cities destroyed by disasters, both natural and man-made, the citizens went to work and created a new community out of the ashes.<br />
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My main mission on my afternoon visit to Kobe was to find new batteries (CR 2032) for my tablet keyboard. That was not an easy task! The tourist desk sent me to the<br />
big department store Daimaru. It was large enough to hold anything under the sun, but alas, no batteries. Their information desk, however, equipped me with a map on which they circled the electronics store where certainly I would find batteries. This exchange was accomplished with much gesturing and consternation over lack of English on their part and Japanese on mine. We both consulted our cell phone translators. Even though European cities also have language barriers, the familiar script and phonics make one at least feel grounded. In Japan, the strange calligraphy and sounds were very disorienting.<br />
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I headed out, map in hand; I found my way to a long arcade filled with shoppers and eventually to the electronics store. A quick walk around found no batteries, so I stopped at the information counter and again begain a language dance trying to convey what I was looking for. Cell phones again came out and eventually eyes lit up and said, "Ah...batteries" in halting English. I was directed up the escalator to the 4th floor where I found a whole wall filled with every battery imaginable. I walked out with two CR 2032 batteries and felt like I had won the Super Bowl. Such an exhilerating feeling, conquering a new land!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPzA9iuIlkvm67qEEjtAVN1E4vb0VnQ00djIeopIPypFUVrBNk9CHKg71dJRuJjuMv55azysAmulkyysAnuiXO2c9nYNCEihP_oC5rj_Dt9AaRdH18LiIDQyHS1elAVPONLTVlzro6kXh/s1600/IMG_20190312_153551861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPzA9iuIlkvm67qEEjtAVN1E4vb0VnQ00djIeopIPypFUVrBNk9CHKg71dJRuJjuMv55azysAmulkyysAnuiXO2c9nYNCEihP_oC5rj_Dt9AaRdH18LiIDQyHS1elAVPONLTVlzro6kXh/s320/IMG_20190312_153551861.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gate to Chinatown in downtown Kobe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TbVn8bdxynGvIJ3buyQYOE6l4K7mwHqGaKbtxF4LS02i6LbiXpt5jDkN3Jq78E0u_qYmiPVJZWknohRtGjQ9Nn-nkT6Oicf8NJAorIU8bjVGdS4kMqZvHf1VvkuR0y_2wBJxiGuIQTcD/s1600/IMG_20190312_153709306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TbVn8bdxynGvIJ3buyQYOE6l4K7mwHqGaKbtxF4LS02i6LbiXpt5jDkN3Jq78E0u_qYmiPVJZWknohRtGjQ9Nn-nkT6Oicf8NJAorIU8bjVGdS4kMqZvHf1VvkuR0y_2wBJxiGuIQTcD/s200/IMG_20190312_153709306.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinatown Food Stall</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBOWKG9uUQw_sL0rCX7qsjsdUqUxXqVjQ9iLFrxeIfN-PmfxxGFS5k7owWw-UDXU1Y3PnwxLDDhcu2Baj6Ann9PVn3u_bm80mNOQGtTRKWw7xQ_Sg5wd4YurUk4d23YQXmWwgqamMD4u7/s1600/IMG_20190312_155836865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBOWKG9uUQw_sL0rCX7qsjsdUqUxXqVjQ9iLFrxeIfN-PmfxxGFS5k7owWw-UDXU1Y3PnwxLDDhcu2Baj6Ann9PVn3u_bm80mNOQGtTRKWw7xQ_Sg5wd4YurUk4d23YQXmWwgqamMD4u7/s200/IMG_20190312_155836865.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kobe beef</td></tr>
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I rewarded myself with a walk through Kobe's Chinatown where food stalls proliferated. Then, I topped it off with a walk through Daimaru's food halls which catered to every taste in the world including stqands with the famous Kobe marbled beef. And finally, I came upon a small Shinto temple in the middle of the towering skyscrapers. I offered a prayer of thanks to be able to visit this marvelous city. <br />
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Great afternoon!<br />
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Life Lessons learned: You have to leave home to appreciate home; and, to have new adventures and learn new things , you have to perservere through the dark times. Got it!Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-5652111341871718312019-03-11T17:35:00.001-07:002019-03-11T17:35:27.428-07:00Rockin' and Rollin' in the East China Sea<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Naha market</td></tr>
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After departing Keelung, we rocked and rolled our way North to dock in Naha, Okinawa, shortly after lunch the next day. It is said that Okinawa is the Hawaii (beach resort) of Japan. The main reason for our short stay in Okinawa appeared to be to get all passengers cleared through Japanese immigration before visiting larger ports. The Far East is big on bureaucracy. Getting our Chinese visa required jumping through hoops and, prior to boarding the ship in Hong Kong, we waited in long lines to have 3 copies of our passports made. In Taiwan and Japan both, they stamp the passport copies rather than passports, and those are the documents you use while in the country.<br />
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Dwight and I took a taxi to the main Street in Naha after clearing immigration. We got out in front of a Starbucks just in time to see the end of a Street performance featuring threatening drums and a terrifying dragon.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO567SaUM2VcVEjBSKn5C69Wngt5YHd3yqXVZaDyDviucAUvpEokNlA_ZK17xBix-OtxNlvCCGokWKmQxEbcieVXoKD3F8mdhQcXOL5I4F4kk0n0Qm0U6Jd0wz6i8HEzRai0LClL4CAGvv/s1600/VID_20190310_155023624.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO567SaUM2VcVEjBSKn5C69Wngt5YHd3yqXVZaDyDviucAUvpEokNlA_ZK17xBix-OtxNlvCCGokWKmQxEbcieVXoKD3F8mdhQcXOL5I4F4kk0n0Qm0U6Jd0wz6i8HEzRai0LClL4CAGvv/s320/VID_20190310_155023624.mp4" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terrifying dragon!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMno4a-i5g4Xlou6LnllMO-IeLuqbc_I5RbqTtbXm6mhmbM02jy2iFJQu4RI7ONDKYzgBazo_7Vvz_DuXns5lPoK7N2-F7sxMit7LVICp-_jy_OUhLSXPCJtFKBCkjOTl5UesTYHWZXVu/s1600/IMG_20190310_155949078_BURST000_COVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMno4a-i5g4Xlou6LnllMO-IeLuqbc_I5RbqTtbXm6mhmbM02jy2iFJQu4RI7ONDKYzgBazo_7Vvz_DuXns5lPoK7N2-F7sxMit7LVICp-_jy_OUhLSXPCJtFKBCkjOTl5UesTYHWZXVu/s320/IMG_20190310_155949078_BURST000_COVER.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This space creature offered free hugs.</td></tr>
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Further down the street we were offered a free hug from a Spacemen passing out leaflets explaining how humans had been created by visitors from outer space. A short walk further didn't reveal much more of interest, so we caught a cab in front of MacDonalds and headed back to the ship for dinner.<br />
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Today is another rocking and rolling day at sea on our way to the main islands of Japan. The seas should calm down once we reach their shelter. I've gotten my sea legs, so it's not bad for me, although it makes me drowsy; however, it's rather difficult for Dwight dealing with the movement of the ship with his walker. But he soldiers on. Tonight we're hosting the Virtuoso Voyages welcome reception and are looking forward to meeting all our pilgrims. Then we dock in Kobe tomorrow where we overnight. Many adventures await after a slow beginning.<br />
<br />Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-15038003994931042132019-03-09T00:35:00.000-08:002019-03-09T00:35:05.869-08:00Rockin' and Rollin' on the South China Seas<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dwight surveying the weather from Horizon Lounge</td></tr>
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As we made our way through the Hong Kong Harbor, three beeps warned of an announcement on the ship's PA system. The Captain calmly informed us that rain, 40 mph gale force winds, and rough seas would speed us to our first stop in Taiwan. Too late to turn back now, although I thought about swimming to shore. I hate to report that I'm not a good sailor, but I'm not a good sailor. Let's just say that the "Ahhh" expected on the first day of the voyage turned into an "OMG", and we can move on to our first port in Taiwan.<br />
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Early the next morning we docked in a drizzly Kee Lung, the principle port for Taipei. March is living up to its reputation for coming in like a lion, but then I hear it's sleeting in Durango. Several buses quickly filled for the long ride to Taipei, while others set off to tour the local area. Dwight and I settled into the main dining room with a few other stragglers to enjoy a nice breakfast sans rocking and rolling. We felt, however, that we had to earn that pin on the map in Taiwan, so we gaily sauntered through the long, deserted arrival hall and emerged at a drizzly taxi stand. There we found a friendly taxi driver who offered us a short, dry tour of the area. Kee Lung is a nice little town of a little over 300,000 residents.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAceGsa2nPJM_DNT6t3lIzz-MEh5cSAdcAXt0fETW0JSWV6wRUIddXQ-nJJcSHmvc3Hj53RNSDaF8apHBQ43ZuoSAOZgszF0cfVMJpkGwWDv81FDNc49xFW449vkTdhTB2b0kNJOwgpuG/s1600/IMG_20190309_105740626_BURST000_COVER.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAceGsa2nPJM_DNT6t3lIzz-MEh5cSAdcAXt0fETW0JSWV6wRUIddXQ-nJJcSHmvc3Hj53RNSDaF8apHBQ43ZuoSAOZgszF0cfVMJpkGwWDv81FDNc49xFW449vkTdhTB2b0kNJOwgpuG/s200/IMG_20190309_105740626_BURST000_COVER.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our friendly taxi driver</td></tr>
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We drove up the hill overlooking the town for a photo op at Zhongzheng Park. Within the park are two impressive Buddhas. A tall, white, standing one looks over the town and from his perch guards fishermen and sailors. The other, a golden, seated, smiling, plump one sits in the square and presides over a water lantern procession at the annual Ghost festival.<br />
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We made one final pass by the market. I've read rave reviews of walking tours of the small market streets with it's many shops and restaurants, but today was not the day for that. weather limited both photo opportunities and quality, but it was a nice little tour into an unfamiliar world, one free of masses of tourists and worthy of visiting.<br />
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Tonight we look forward to the Captain's Cocktail reception and a nice dinner in the Polo Grill. Hoping tomorrow brings smooth seas.Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-47781452010408587372019-03-06T19:12:00.001-08:002019-03-06T19:12:31.299-08:00Changes in latitude...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dragon presides over breakfast</td></tr>
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...changes in attitude; nothing remains quite the same. And that's exactly why we change latitudes. An attitude adjustment was definitely in order for me. So here I am in Hong Kong remembering that I'm not a big city girl. The streets are noisy and crowded, the shops are the same you find in any big city, and dragons lurk everywhere. But it somehow renews you to encounter the different sounds and smells of a new place. The streets of Kowloon, Hong Kong, are a rabbit warren of shops tucked away in nooks and crannies and streets wandering at strange angles leaving you disoriented and, yes, lost.<br />
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Our 15-hour flight from San Francisco to Hong Kong on United Airlines was amazing. We had been able to use miles (and, of course, cash) to upgrade to business class. Everyone should have a business-class pod in their homes. It's an interesting combination of sense deprivation and sense immersion. Push a button and your feet go up laying your body out flat; push another, your feet go down and someone puts food in front of you. Push a third and the screen offers you your option of movies, TV shows, music or whatever suits you. You're otherwise blissfully unaware of anything else going on around you. So I watched <i>Green</i> <i>Book, Can You Ever Forgive Me,</i> a documentary on the Okavango Delta, slept 6 hours, ate two meals and one snack, and woke up in Hong Kong. Like I said, amazing.<br />
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It's a drizzly day in Hong Kong, but probably about as warm a day and we'll see in the next two weeks as we head north. The clouds lifted and the rain subsided on my morning walk, so all is well. In just a few hours, we'll board the beautiful Nautica, unpack, and set sail for a day at sea. Ahhhh!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun comes out!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Business class pod on United Airlines</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRiF4aL5gbdCxLvPr2QbTOneyEwSbwL2s3ILsONDvZVNATK1ll673niKbD-Xbe4DbD_MkpDdiHOUTpXU2plhgiGnnKSxYYdHZrc3TsLwJriwmFUzKn643JJakMQc9FlUgW2NxfcQzk0SOD/s1600/IMG_20190307_091737493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRiF4aL5gbdCxLvPr2QbTOneyEwSbwL2s3ILsONDvZVNATK1ll673niKbD-Xbe4DbD_MkpDdiHOUTpXU2plhgiGnnKSxYYdHZrc3TsLwJriwmFUzKn643JJakMQc9FlUgW2NxfcQzk0SOD/s200/IMG_20190307_091737493.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainy Hong Kong Harbor</td></tr>
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-65580344467694062532019-03-04T12:18:00.002-08:002019-03-04T12:18:45.130-08:00Wanna get away?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1wly4HKFlXrTTm1uCX0_pr_4BtoPw041okyNX3I0e9fBP46PMSf7q1QNCpdWOk5V9KqF1_bpY8WTU86rXnAtrco4_wzI-hRRip5MkNs1M-G6coIa-0OBPWq2sOys_c9-hI3wwY3lNVu5/s1600/Snowbound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1wly4HKFlXrTTm1uCX0_pr_4BtoPw041okyNX3I0e9fBP46PMSf7q1QNCpdWOk5V9KqF1_bpY8WTU86rXnAtrco4_wzI-hRRip5MkNs1M-G6coIa-0OBPWq2sOys_c9-hI3wwY3lNVu5/s400/Snowbound.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Record snow year in Durango</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">The answer to the title question is a resounding, "Yes!" It's been a hard winter and, as glad as we are to have the moisture after a drought year in 2018, the snow is quite literally over my head. </span><br />
That's what vacation is all about...getting away from chores and freeing up your mind to ponder on the greater issues of life. Cruising is the ideal way to do that. Get up to breakfast at your door, explore foreign ports and come back to a room where the bed is made, dinner is on the table, and post-dinner entertainment awaits you. Then there are long, blissfully uneventful days on the ship where your mind is free to chase the following sea. Yes, I wanna get away!<br />
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We're going to a totally different part of the world on this voyage -- 15 days Hong Kong to Shanghai aboard the Oceania Nautica. This will be a working voyage. Dwight and I will be hosts to 41 Virtuoso Voyagers, clients of Virtuoso-affiliated travel agents. We'll be responsible for arranging a welcome reception and a private shore excursion in Hiroshima, Japan. One of the nicest things about cruising is not just seeing new places, it's making new friends. There are always interesting people aboard and ashore with whom to share new experiences and to introduce you to new points of view. Mark Twain truly got it right when he said, "Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things can not be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.โ I love my corner of the earth, but right now I wanna get away!<br />
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<br />Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-49828960705938718152019-03-04T12:08:00.003-08:002019-03-04T12:10:38.044-08:00Saying Kwaheri to Kenya<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPctTjLSZQlj-eaUC1nAbEITkTJYwKr0APzbWGqtdDzvHLmqg8k0cCwhQCZG7ZaO4bOy9vQ3K8AqM1ulI0VEUEuXbpZpjsH_0TttPAQYrFaICuvzmeN7_MUI_18glPkxYv8gYzCH2_D8Nq/s1600/Masai+Warriors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="937" data-original-width="1249" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPctTjLSZQlj-eaUC1nAbEITkTJYwKr0APzbWGqtdDzvHLmqg8k0cCwhQCZG7ZaO4bOy9vQ3K8AqM1ulI0VEUEuXbpZpjsH_0TttPAQYrFaICuvzmeN7_MUI_18glPkxYv8gYzCH2_D8Nq/s320/Masai+Warriors.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maasai Warriors</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnaTAX9_kvHKu8DItYQOC2jVZuRsyqovG5lO7aMoR0JG050oVJvSZnSYFvsFQppPZlcpNwlj3xVnR-drbNCKxDPuNxOYFCyrr6DVdT0ievrLZNpClDkfriSDRMRi7Q7POtuweHABiiOht7/s1600/Home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="888" data-original-width="666" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnaTAX9_kvHKu8DItYQOC2jVZuRsyqovG5lO7aMoR0JG050oVJvSZnSYFvsFQppPZlcpNwlj3xVnR-drbNCKxDPuNxOYFCyrr6DVdT0ievrLZNpClDkfriSDRMRi7Q7POtuweHABiiOht7/s200/Home.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home</td></tr>
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The sun finally hesitantly showed itself in the Mara and our wet morning was forgotten as it was followed by a delightful visit to a Maasai village. Our guide, who was working on a Ph.D. in mathematics, showed off his village with pride. The $30 we each paid for the tour helped to support the local schools and health clinic. The Maasai people have a great amount of pride and dignity and were gracious hosts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjye2XnIepArjuo6Y5IOBjr5cYOWwQ0QgXXH8SR0sbFwoMmFPNpW_5Jz8Xe96EDefWkA1BUczqX7oQCZC-bckgAum2SILjsZq6E4YOqz5W7a26v5e4F98xNC5IDkZJMJLDca2m6KKVzhNNo/s1600/Lion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjye2XnIepArjuo6Y5IOBjr5cYOWwQ0QgXXH8SR0sbFwoMmFPNpW_5Jz8Xe96EDefWkA1BUczqX7oQCZC-bckgAum2SILjsZq6E4YOqz5W7a26v5e4F98xNC5IDkZJMJLDca2m6KKVzhNNo/s1600/Lion.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What, me worry?</td></tr>
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Speaking of "pride" the day was further enriched with a sighting of a large pride of lion resting in the shade of the bushes. It was fascinating watching them laze about, occasionally getting up to interact with one another, oblivious to the gawking tourists who surrounded them. The Mara is a National Park which is an extension of the great Serengeti Plains which stretch through neighboring Tanzania. It's the site of the famous wildebeest migration, which is not just seasonal but is a continuing migration. The herds circle around, from Tanzania to Kenya and back again, following the rains and providing dinner for lions, cheetah, and hyenas.<br />
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And so came our final day. A short plane ride to Nairobi, lunch with our hosts in a beautiful Nairobi garden spilling over with bougainvillea, a much-needed rest in a day room close to the airport, and we were forced to say "Kwaheri" to Kenya, truly a trip of a lifetime.<br />
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<br />Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-72506044558576484882018-07-19T16:21:00.000-07:002018-07-19T16:21:09.828-07:00Back to Africa - What Happens When Things Go Wrong?I'm travelling back in my mind to continue with the African Travel Agent Study Tour of Kenya.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Soggy Travel Agents</td></tr>
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My last African blog post had us arriving in Maasai Mara National Park and unpacking our bags in the glorious Sand River Luxury Tented Camp. We had scheduled a sunrise balloon tour of The Mara for the next morning which meant we had to rise at 3:30 a.m. in order to make the 2+ hour drive to the rendezvous spot. Stewards bearing hot coffee awakened us with a knock on the door...one of the little luxuries of life on safari. </div>
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During the night, heavy rains had poured down on the tent, so we knew the roads would not be good. By the time we gathered in the reception area, the rains had settled into a drizzle, but everyone was in a good humour anticipating our adventure and so we collected our rain gear and headed into the dark night. I was in the front seat behind the driver. About a half hour into the drive we landed with a thud. Stuck! The other Land Rover was unable to pull us out, so it was decided to continue on with everyone crowded into the second vehicle. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKyqvLC2DXMVx5DCCChRxv9_Ng4JAfyEM0p-zy23wPQOI9B-mq-3EvrDJNFSeLg1GTUrNi_vpVIQtX0OTig2H9LrgG-7K95VXg5F5BKPoGsJ4NpwjZHgG_rglmH7p2PrcL62KdKTLs3J-/s1600/IMG_20180417_102954874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKyqvLC2DXMVx5DCCChRxv9_Ng4JAfyEM0p-zy23wPQOI9B-mq-3EvrDJNFSeLg1GTUrNi_vpVIQtX0OTig2H9LrgG-7K95VXg5F5BKPoGsJ4NpwjZHgG_rglmH7p2PrcL62KdKTLs3J-/s320/IMG_20180417_102954874.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Mirlin</td></tr>
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I was the first to get out of the stuck Rover, and by the light of a flashlight, I stepped onto a small, soggy island formed by two deep water-filled ruts. It wobbled and I stepped very carefully so as not to slide into the water. I was lucky. The island collapsed by the time the last passenger descended and she went crotch high into the water. In the second Land Rover, I occupied the last and highest seat in the rear with three other passengers. After losing so much time, the second driver wanted to catch up. He sped through the night slipping and sliding on the saturated roads. Suddenly...BOOM! The Land Rover flew over a large bump, sending the three of us in the back high into the air and thumping our heads on the roll bar. We stopped to examine the damage and found three passengers had bloody lumps on their heads. After a short, soggy discussion, we decided to plod on. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Talek River entrance to Maasai Mara<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Swollen Talek River<br /></td></tr>
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We finally reached our destination, another tented camp, this one on the Talek River. The sun was just beginning to lighten the grey, cloudy sky and we were glad to exit the Land Rovers. After examining our wounds and looking at the grey morning, we decided to abandon our plans for the balloon ride. Merlin, our African Travel escort, arranged for us to be served a hot buffet breakfast and also arranged for us to have temporary use of the camp's rooms to shower and recover. Our bodies felt the trauma even though no permanent damage had been done. Mirlin was our hero, making all arrangements efficiently and without being asked. That just goes to show the value of booking your African trip with a company you can count on to take care of things when they go wrong. And when you travel, things can almost assuredly go wrong. Thank you, African Travel!</div>
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The next decision involved whether to continue with the scheduled afternoon activity -- a visit to a Maasai boma. Happily, we unanimously said "yes" to that, and it will be the subject of my next blog. </div>
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-79950311707145414942018-07-12T15:47:00.000-07:002018-07-12T15:47:18.062-07:00From Canyon to Canyon<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGCwUmVEipyUufRyOJON84a0MuDa5zzoqR5XFpISfSggw_TMQ_mfRu-CTKEraqcjrLl4p6TTUl458vAeyIKy4O5gcZv9bVg5PZzz_rG5WFZR8zA_HAuN1xswn10ZN5_LFCiIIreo3XpIL/s1600/IMG_20180630_162427831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGCwUmVEipyUufRyOJON84a0MuDa5zzoqR5XFpISfSggw_TMQ_mfRu-CTKEraqcjrLl4p6TTUl458vAeyIKy4O5gcZv9bVg5PZzz_rG5WFZR8zA_HAuN1xswn10ZN5_LFCiIIreo3XpIL/s320/IMG_20180630_162427831.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canyon de Chelly Overlook</td></tr>
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We started our summer road trip at the Grand Canyon and finished at the Canyon de Chelly. While not as magnificent or as well known as the Grand Canyon, the Canyon de Chelly has an interesting human history. It is currently home to the Navajo Indians and a National Monument. It's steep sandstone walls hide a river bed that is often dry, but is still farmed by Navajos. If you look closely at the photo, you can see rows of crops as well as cattle wandering up the canyon. The canyon has been one of the longest continuously inhabited landscapes in the U.S. It is home to rock art and Ancient Puebloan ruins. <br />
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The gateway to the monument is the town of Chinle, where we stopped and Dwight enjoyed a Navajo taco. Canyon de Chelly National Monument is located entirely within the boundaries of the Navajo reservation and its operation is a joint venture between the U.S. Park Service the tribe. To access the Canyon you must be accompanied by a Park Ranger or a Navajo guide; however, one foot trail from the rim into the canyon which visits the "White House" ruins is open to the unaccompanied public. The highways which run along both the north and south sides of the canyon have overlooks, only one of which we found that was accessible. Dessert landscape surrounds the canyon. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMAiL4tpEFk_XIfRSHlVQL1TDLRJBYmrRkGLRqerIV-oKAvFtTn9RAZsW5ofqyZeLW3wBvHu2TqD5pIIuEmydTjo3vHH0fnY3BOi86TspX7kpZQrQNQ5Y4iOL0xMN14OF7AEN0eh3lqa3/s1600/IMG_20180702_065659858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMAiL4tpEFk_XIfRSHlVQL1TDLRJBYmrRkGLRqerIV-oKAvFtTn9RAZsW5ofqyZeLW3wBvHu2TqD5pIIuEmydTjo3vHH0fnY3BOi86TspX7kpZQrQNQ5Y4iOL0xMN14OF7AEN0eh3lqa3/s320/IMG_20180702_065659858.jpg" width="320" /></a>We were in touch with the man tiling our floor as we progressed through Arizona and were finally given permission to go home. We arrived to a new floor, some of which was taped off because it was still drying, and a living room full of stacked and covered furniture. It would be awhile before our lives could get back in order, but it was good to be home in spite of the smoke which filled the Animas Valley and our house in the early morning. The good news was the coming of rain which has continued and finally begun quenching the fire. The first sign of the impending rain was a long line of dark cloud exuding moisture. I've been told that the Hopi Indians call this walking rain. Nothing could provide a better welcome home from our summer road trip! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking rain over the 416 fire</td></tr>
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-49772371290440528212018-06-30T08:28:00.002-07:002018-07-01T19:31:17.264-07:00Sanctuary!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFr-aFH5hDjuRbN5iIh2ZqLRYN8CnKqoAs0Z1FhT2J2Q4t45x76hMZHcy9lO4u9dkj_jd_K_9JWtUXZ8wnDrsbGdq9_ciCeLWSFkTb460dlobyV6w7or_3e-jlv6NeKcPo03l8E_gf2s3/s1600/Sanctuary-Elements-Jade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="1600" height="83" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFr-aFH5hDjuRbN5iIh2ZqLRYN8CnKqoAs0Z1FhT2J2Q4t45x76hMZHcy9lO4u9dkj_jd_K_9JWtUXZ8wnDrsbGdq9_ciCeLWSFkTb460dlobyV6w7or_3e-jlv6NeKcPo03l8E_gf2s3/s400/Sanctuary-Elements-Jade.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sanctuary at Camelback Mountain Resort and Spa</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset from our Sanctuary terrace</td></tr>
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Sanctuary on Camelback Mountain Resort and Spa is aptly named. It fits the description of both dictionary meanings for sanctuary: 1) a place of refuge or safety, and 2) a nature reserve. We were road weary when we arrived at Sanctuary and were ushered into a cool, comfortable suite with a terrace overlooking the sunset. Our Durango friends wondered why anyone would head to Scottsdale from Durango during the heat of summer, but we were using the excuse of a one-day travel agent conference to escape from the Smoke of the 416 fire and also vacate our house while our kitchen was being re-tiled. While the heat in Arizona topped out at 111 degrees, the locals kept telling us that it was a dry heat and we would get used to it. I didn't believe them, but after three nights at the Sanctuary with summer rates to assuage the heat, we definitely felt cool and comfortable.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Sanctuary suite. Note the butterfly on the wall which<br />
honors Sanctuary's status as a nature reserve</td></tr>
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The resort began its life as John Gardiner's Tennis Ranch. It was built during the 70's heyday of the sport and served the rich and famous such as professionals Ken Rosewall and Billie Jean King and Hollywood luminaries like Clint Eastwood, Liza Minnelli and John Carson. The featured event during its heyday was the Senator's Cup, a charity event which pitted Democrat and Republican Congressmen against each other back in the days when political rivalry was still a friendly competition. The resort gradually lost its focus on tennis as the popularity of the sport faded, but to keep the resort from disappearing and becoming just another upscale development, fans bought the land and dedicated it as a nature reserve so the resort could continue to provide refuge for man and beast. It's even a dog-friendly resort, so you don't have to leave your best friend at home.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Butterfly blessing</td></tr>
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There's really no reason to leave the Sanctuary since it has a well-known and locally popular elegant restaurant in Elements, a comfortable bar in the Jade Bar, an absolutely gorgeous infinity pool, and a magnificent spa. We did decide to leave, however, to check out the unique Butterfly Wonderland, where Dwight was blessed by a butterfly. Summer time in Scottsdale -- elegant accommodations at good prices, good food, neat attractions -- great destination for an old-fashioned road trip.<br />
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-16539945125129688792018-06-28T15:22:00.003-07:002018-07-01T19:37:19.728-07:00Detour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm leaving Africa behind for a short while to take a detour on an old-fashioned American road trip. A one-day travel conference caused us to schedule a trip to Scottsdale on a Wednesday of the last week of June. That is not an ideal time for one to leave the clear mountain air of Durango for the hot desert sun of southern Arizona, but it provided us with an opportunity to get out of the house while our kitchen was re-tiled. It was also an opportunity for us to get out of the smokey fog surrounding Durango from the 416 fire. So we packed our bags and headed south. Our plan, since we wanted to be gone at least a week, was to take two days to complete the journey to Scottsdale,three nights there, and two days coming back.<br />
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Our first decision was where to stop on the first night out. We, of course, opted for detouring through the Grand Canyon, but were uncertain if we could find reasonable lodging. I remembered some controversy earlier about incorporating a town just to the south of the National Park, so we drove through the park and, sure enough found the town of Tusayan. It almost all looks brand new! According to Wikipedia, it was only recently incorporated with a total population of 558, but the incorporation was unpopular with some and they are fighting it. Typical Western politics. I stopped at the Holiday Inn Express; they had a room, but it was $250 for the night. <br />
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I thought that too extravagant for a Holiday Inn and drove away, but next door found a little gem of a motel from the 50's called the 7 Mile Inn. The "vacancy" sign was lit, so I walked in. A friendly, smiling woman came from a back room that looked like her living room and signed us in for $109 plus tax for the night. The motel was almost engulfed by two new behemoth hotels which surrounded it. I think we had found the incorporation opposition. The 7 Mile Lodge accepts only drive-in traffic, so it doesn't have the expense of a reservation service or on-line booking engine, but they have old-fashioned friendly owners, meticulously clean rooms, and all the amenities including free wi-fi at a great price. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brunch at the El Tovar Hotel</td></tr>
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The next morning we rose early and drove back into the Park (thank you, Golden Passport) for breakfast and to feed on the view once again. I had forgotten how spacious the "Grand Canyon Village" was with markets, hotels, overlooks, and trail heads. We ended up at the old El Tovar Hotel which was built as a Harvey House at the end of the railway in the early 20th century. It's been recently remodeled and proudly occupies its prime spot at the edge of the South Rim. The hotel itself reminded me of the Strater Hotel in Durango with its period furniture. And, best of all, breakfast was superb. Good detour!</div>
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<br />Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1537856941725482597.post-52536566867835215832018-06-02T16:28:00.003-07:002018-07-19T16:22:44.965-07:00Sand River Maasai Mara Tented Camp<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAwioYPZ878xqgSdxVfEJdNpUAqJbt5ECkWraEXvOyddKNkcioqTMBnBX2EuhUNF2kssd0rayqV9Jn_rFArJ-kOVjkb9DG6IyYmBJ67ctq7z37A1FQ_kr2PVT869PAEA9GSpNGh-R9EGG/s1600/IMG_20180416_110500090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAwioYPZ878xqgSdxVfEJdNpUAqJbt5ECkWraEXvOyddKNkcioqTMBnBX2EuhUNF2kssd0rayqV9Jn_rFArJ-kOVjkb9DG6IyYmBJ67ctq7z37A1FQ_kr2PVT869PAEA9GSpNGh-R9EGG/s320/IMG_20180416_110500090.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keekorak Airstrip, Maasai Mara National Reserve</td></tr>
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We departed the Laikipia plains and flew southwest to the Maasai Mara National Reserve on the 16 of April. The Mara became a National Reserve in 1974. It is contiguous with the Serengeti Plains of Tanzania and the Kenya government wanted to take advantage of the tourist attraction known as The Great Migration. The Great Migration takes place year-round as zebra, wildebeest, gazelle and other plains game follow the rains and the good grass. And, of course, where the plains game goes, the big cats (lion, leopard, and cheetah) are sure to follow. The circle begins (or ends) in the southern Serengeti from December to May and reaches its peak in the Mara from October to November. Without hyperbole, I can say that it is the most stunning display of wildlife to be seen on earth. Because there's always migration going on at some point between the Serengeti and the Mara, it makes for a perfect vacation from May through the winter. The equator passes through the center of Kenya so the temperature typically doesn't vary much. Much of the country is also at altitude; if you can read the Keekorok sign you can tell it is over 5500 feet. There are two rainy seasons, however, the short rains in the fall and the long rains in the spring and the long rains are the only time not recommended to visit, although we saw all the game we could handle. If the Great Migration is not on your bucket list, it should be!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJiZbcW8eROkyiY57LI6pjJsb9OjqkS0duWcpPWPprUXZKwT3F-PWEUvPzmIxRhTbtyR6Eb2tf4EQxaeG9ZfsvNuLorHoBzr3k32uAdoI5OJ5qNxuDzdubZdX9FQDPlgxLZbjymTEPQqN/s1600/Sand+river+room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJiZbcW8eROkyiY57LI6pjJsb9OjqkS0duWcpPWPprUXZKwT3F-PWEUvPzmIxRhTbtyR6Eb2tf4EQxaeG9ZfsvNuLorHoBzr3k32uAdoI5OJ5qNxuDzdubZdX9FQDPlgxLZbjymTEPQqN/s200/Sand+river+room.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Room at Sand River Masai Mara Tented Camp</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Of the three camps we visited on our Study Tour, the Sand River Tented Camp was my favorite. The 16 spacious tents are spread out along the banks of the Sand River which marks the boundary between Kenya and Tanzania. Since the surrounding area is not fenced, wildlife can wander freely through the entire area. Each tent is furnished in a style matching early 20th-century colonial furnishings evoking the romance of early explorers, complete with a Hemingway-style writing desk in the sitting room, canopied beds, and a huge footed bathtub. Perhaps it was the bathtub which made it my favorite since a hot bath qualifies as my cure for whatever ails you. If a bathtub isn't to your taste, however, Sand River tents also offer an outside shower. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxIVi-7BSLykQmrswcdZmw1szZkMzVc10t280Y0hCHIlEohEBIfXxCF73oUximXBz-5LsUR8xqRqVS-DsbznIyvFLpFXtsSVD3LVo23rgQP-rj4c1MpMzsiLLdqjXULSEhwN4OfgrA_NbC/s1600/hippo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="214" data-original-width="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxIVi-7BSLykQmrswcdZmw1szZkMzVc10t280Y0hCHIlEohEBIfXxCF73oUximXBz-5LsUR8xqRqVS-DsbznIyvFLpFXtsSVD3LVo23rgQP-rj4c1MpMzsiLLdqjXULSEhwN4OfgrA_NbC/s1600/hippo.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hippo in the river</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><br /></span> <span style="text-align: start;">While it doesn't have the great soaring vistas of Loisaba, Sand River is the perfect place to sit with a sundowner on your patio while watching hippos wallowing in the river waters and monkeys jumping through the trees on the opposite bank. The river was running high since we were there at the height of the long rains which have been particularly heavy this year. </span><br />
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We had all booked a sunrise balloon ride over the Mara for the next morning and after signing documents and getting a briefing on the balloon adventure, we all went to bed early. We were to leave the Sand River Camp at 4:30 the next morning and were told to expect an hour's drive to the balloon launching. We were really looking forward to the adventure. Little did we know how much and what kind of adventure awaited us.<br />
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Katherine Burgesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11885496121860605257noreply@blogger.com0