Bored of Peace

The man who mercilessly called Joe Biden “Sleepy Joe” dozes through his own “Peace” meeting. Pony up a billion dollars and anyone can join. Maybe his son-in-law gets in for free.
What will greed and corruption contribute to the Palestinian situation in Israel? When Trump talks of villas and high rises facing a Mediterranean basin, is he talking about housing for Palestinians? Is he talking about establishing a beautiful Palestinian state on the Gaza strip?
Or is he seeking to monetize and take advantage of a political void to eliminate the Palestinian inhabitants and create a sleazy nouveau riche community a la Mar-a-Lago?
A Tale of Grace
For perspective, this is the legendary acquisition by Father Abraham of the first Jewish purchase of land. It is a tale of grace, hospitality, and sharing between two cultures:
Genesis 23:1-20
23
Sarah lived for one hundred and twenty-seven years; this was the length of Sarah’s life. 2And Sarah died at Kiriath-arba (that is, Hebron) in the land of Canaan; and Abraham went in to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her.
3Abraham rose up from beside his dead, and said to the Hittites, 4‘I am a stranger and an alien residing among you; give me property among you for a burying-place, so that I may bury my dead out of my sight.’
5The Hittites answered Abraham, 6‘Hear us, my lord; you are a mighty prince among us. Bury your dead in the choicest of our burial places; none of us will withhold from you any burial ground for burying your dead.’
7Abraham rose and bowed to the Hittites, the people of the land. 8He said to them, ‘If you are willing that I should bury my dead out of my sight, hear me, and entreat for me Ephron son of Zohar, 9so that he may give me the cave of Machpelah, which he owns; it is at the end of his field. For the full price let him give it to me in your presence as a possession for a burying-place.’ 10Now Ephron was sitting among the Hittites; and Ephron the Hittite answered Abraham in the hearing of the Hittites, of all who went in at the gate of his city,
11‘No, my lord, hear me; I give you the field, and I give you the cave that is in it; in the presence of my people I give it to you; bury your dead.’ 12Then Abraham bowed down before the people of the land. 13He said to Ephron in the hearing of the people of the land, ‘If you only will listen to me! I will give the price of the field; accept it from me, so that I may bury my dead there.’ 14Ephron answered Abraham,
15‘My lord, listen to me; a piece of land worth four hundred shekels of silver—what is that between you and me? Bury your dead.’ 16Abraham agreed with Ephron; and Abraham weighed out for Ephron the silver that he had named in the hearing of the Hittites, four hundred shekels of silver, according to the weights current among the merchants.
17 So the field of Ephron in Machpelah, which was to the east of Mamre, the field with the cave that was in it and all the trees that were in the field, throughout its whole area, passed 18to Abraham as a possession in the presence of the Hittites, in the presence of all who went in at the gate of his city. 19After this, Abraham buried Sarah his wife in the cave of the field of Machpelah facing Mamre (that is, Hebron) in the land of Canaan. 20The field and the cave that is in it passed from the Hittites into Abraham’s possession as a burying-place.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Malaga, Spain

Dawn finds us in Malaga, our last new city on this cruise.



You can see the buses lined up already to take us on tours of the city.

In front of us looks like a huge beer tent!



We are told this cruise ship never moves. It is undergoing renovation and no one knows when it will finish.


Lots of Expats buying property in Malaga, forcing prices up, our guide tells us.


You can see the bull fighting arena from this overlook.










Malaga is proudly home to Picasso’s birthplace.

Once again we were trying to break down some of our larger Euro bills so we went into a supermarket where we found some small things. I went through the cashier and then waited outside for my husband. He got the old fish eye; maybe the cashier is wise to tourists needing smaller change.





Love to see recycling!


















Tourists love Malaga. It is the end of November. The place is packed, expecially here at the castle.







The guide is finishing our walking tour, which has been crowded with many groups of people just like us.


As the guide finishes our walking tour, which has been crowded but informative and a lot of fun, he points out the way to the open market (!) and then shows us where we will be able to catch the shuttle back to the ship. Yes! He also points out one of the oldest ice cream shops in Malaga, famous for the quality and variety of its ice creams. Sign us up!
We thank the guide, tip him with great appreciation, and head off toward the old central market. If you haven’t guessed, this is one of our favorite places to eat (think really fresh), for taking photos, and for seeing people who really live in a place and what they are buying and eating. We find an outdoor restaurant where people are eating interesting-looking food. We get to know the couple at the table next to us; they are from Amsterdam and just down for a four-day weekend to soak up some beach time and some good Spanish food. What a luxury to just come to Malaga for a four-day weekend!

My husband’s beer glass was particularly beautiful. The beer was very good.


Above are Tomatoes and Tuna, very fresh, very good. Below are anchovies in a vinegar brine. A little was good, but this was too much anchovy, and raw, even for me. The green olives were delicious.

A brochette of grilled shrimp – fresh, delicious.

Spicy shrimp with garlic and peppers. You think you are OK and you are thinking how delicious this dish is, and then the heat hits you. Oh Wow! We had fresh bread to soak up the sauces.

We’ve saved room for dessert and AdventureMan kept track of where the famous ice cream shop was.

Look at that chocolate! It was decadent, so chock full of flavor. AdventureMan had the pistachio and says it was very fine pistachio ice cream.

No, not small servings, but it is our last day in Spain, and the ice cream is so good we choose not to feel guilty about it. As it turned out, it was so rich, I couldn’t eat all of mine anyway.






We walk down to where the guide showed us to catch a shuttle back to the ship, and – nothing. No people, no signage, nothing. Maybe we misunderstood? We walked about a mile along a tourist waterfront walkway and asked people; no one could tell us. At the other end, the Hop On Hop Off boat people said they thought it was back where we started.
Back where we started are some passengers we recognize, and they are all grumbling and complaining. No signage, no red-vested Viking people but this is where the shuttle is supposed to be and they were told the shuttle drivers were taking an hour or so for lunch. There is one young man that they think is with Viking but he is busy looking at his phone, does not seem to speak English (or doesn’t want to) and is not helpful. He does have a red Viking bag.
And then we see the shuttle. It is coming! We get on, and some of the crew get on and we are all riding back together but here come some more Viking passengers and there is no more room in the bus! The passengers are running across the busy street, waving their arms and yelling “Wait! Wait!” but the driver drives faster. We know they got back to the ship on the next bus, but they were angry!
Ah well. Small drama. We put on our swimsuits and head for the spa. As we soak in the waves and bubbles for the last time, we review the trip and think how lucky we are. We never had any serious rain, only maybe ten minutes in Malta. No big deal. And all the ports gave us what we needed – new sights, new experiences, new understanding of how the world works. We love our cabin, our stewards have treated us like royalty, and we’ve met some interesting people and some nice people. This has been a really good trip for us.
Tonight is a special night, a BBQ at the swimming pool with live music and dancing, loud speakers and games.
It is also Thanksgiving. We thought we would go to the BBQ but as we walk through it is crowded and we don’t see anywhere to sit, so we go into the World Cafe. The World Cafe is quieter and we have turkey and whatever else we want. We don’t mind missing the BBQ. We are not too hungry because of the meal at the market and the ice cream 😊.

Sailing away from Malaga.

We find life on a ship can be a little compressing; these stops in Cadiz and Malaga have given us what we need; time on our own to walk and explore and learn at our own pace, to stop and eat good ice cream when we want, to just sit and chat with strangers, to stop in a China shop for a hair clip – just time, time to ourselves. These are the things that make us happy when we travel.
Tauck Seine: Les Andelys and Chateau Gaillard

You can see the Seine twist and turn as it flows from Paris to Vernon (and Giverny) and to Chateau Gaillard.

We dock in Les Andelys to hike up to Chateau Gaillard, a castle built by Richard the Lionheart in record time, and later used by King Philip the Fair to jail his adulterous daughters-in-law.




The Church, Notre Dame, shows signs of needing repair, but the French government is currently strapped for cash. In front of the church, the guide pointed to a statue, and said “This is Jesus.”




You can see signs of water damage on the walls. I can’t imagine what it would take to fix that and make it waterproof.









We have little sprinkles of rain, the first we have seen, and fortunately it is a rare occurrence on this trip.
A Morning in the Marais
I like our room! A good night’s sleep makes all the difference in the world. We hear no doors opening and closing, no traffic, no water pipes – nothing. We sleep, by the grace of God and good insulation.
Breakfast is included with our room, so we are up and ready at seven. The breakfast room is the hotel dining room, very lush and elegantly comfortable. The brunch is generous, meat and eggs and pastries and they are generous with the coffee, too, and that matters to me. A quick trip back upstairs to brush teeth and we are on our way.
We’ve watched all the YouTube videos about pickpockets, and how to buy tickets for the Metro and discovered we’ve overstudied for this test. It is easy. We are steps from the Metro entry, we know what we want, we step right up to the ticket booth and buy cards on which we pay for ten trips. Even if we don’t use them all; we will be back and unused trips can be at used another time.
Paris is still unusually hot. Although the morning is relatively cool, the metro is stuffy. Other than that, the signage is clear – as long as you know the line you are taking and the direction, you can get there. Our goal for today, the Marais, is a straight shot with no changes. We board at L’Etoile and get off at St. Paul.

It’s so early, it’s just us and all the people going to work, which is fun for us. What we love is walking, taking in the back streets, looking at the details, so we will take you along with us.

Sharp eyes, AdventureMan. You spotted the old city walls, and their significance.








This is the kind of discovery we love, below. Musical instruments – and a barber shop! This is a very cool place.



We find a mini-department store and I find all kinds of Olympic schlock for the upcoming spectacle.





Heading into Place des Vosges.















St. Paul’s




I love this sign below – Don’t go in after the signal sounds or you will hurt yourself!

We want to get back to the hotel because we know our family will be arriving soon, and as we are getting on the Metro, we get a call that they are leaving the airport. We can’t wait to meet up.
Mesa Verde, Cliff House Loop and Coyote Village
We decide to head back to Mesa Verde for our last full day and see some of the sights we didn’t get to yesterday. We started with the Cliff House loop, and were amazed to see how many people were there before us. There was a bus full of Italians, and a bus full of French people. There were all kinds of people our age waiting for the Ranger tour of the Cliff House; you need reservations and the numbers are limited. We did it the last time so felt comfortable skipping it this time, and went on to view other sites, some of which were open, and some not.













The most productive site for us was the Far View site, where archeologists have excavated much of a village and reservoir from ancient times.


The Docent Ranger tells us that they may have to close the exhibit soon because some of the walls are so fragile that even with careful visitors, the stress on ancient stones and foundations are too fragile to survive the number of visitors, which is affecting their condition.



We were able to see the storage rooms and the kivas. People talk about the ceremonial functions of the kivas – they look to me like they had functional purposes, perhaps keeping people out of the heat and out of the elements, perhaps gatherings, yes, and it made me think of Thanksgiving and how a very casual gathering could be described as ceremonial.



I think we toss that word around too lightly. I think we are often discussing customary, daily doings and elevating these daily rituals by calling them ceremonial. Am I ceremonial while I wash my dishes, or hang my laundry? Do I ceremonially cook our dinner?


I love visiting these sites and having these conversations in my head.

We take a chance on getting a table at the Absolute Bakery in Mancos, a place we love. Very casual, everything home made and delicious, and we are lucky, they have enlarged and have a room in the back which they open for us, and then others, too.






Back at the cabin, we finish off the spaghetti and garlic bread back at the cabin for our last dinner in Cortez, and the last few bites of Gustavo’s lemon pie. I check with Cecilia and Alison about what is required for check out (every B&B has its own requirements) and they tell me just to leave our food, that they will use what they can and take care of the rest. We won’t be doing our own cooking for the rest of the trip.
The Ute Tribal Museum in Montrose, Colorado



Our next stop was the Ute Tribal Museum in Montrose, a two-hour stop in a museum full of meaningful information on Ute daily life, the long history of the Utes on this continent, and the shameful treatment they received at the hand of our government, cynically breaking treaties and steadily eroding Ute territorial holdings.


There are all kinds of educational segments using materials to give a hands-on understanding of how teepees were raised, for example, and how beading was accomplished.


There were weaponry displays and best of all, there were many short visual film segments on a variety of topics, including a 22-minute film on the Bear Dance, which was absolutely fascinating. They had a gift shop full of wonderful jewelry and art pieces, as well as the usual books and souvenirs.










The Ute Museum was one of the highlights of our trip. It came at just the right time, as we were still at the beginning of our trip, and could relate much of what we learned to what we saw along the way.
Spring Break Getaway to New Orleans

Heading to New Orleans over Spring Break with the grandchildren has been a tradition for us for about ten years. We love watching them grow and become adults, and at the same time, as their peers become more influential, we know our days of traveling with them are limited, so we are determined to enjoy every minute.
I’m not very good at selfies. We’ve been taking pictures at this rest stop every year, and this is the first year we were able to get all four of us into one photo. Sorry, granddaughter, if I cut off the top of your head. 😒
First stop, our granddaughter chose Origami for lunch, one of our favorite restaurants in New Orleans for Japanese food. Lots of small plates, a great variety of fresh made sushi rolls, and always a great experience.
Next stop, the Audubon Zoo, another tradition, where we buy a Krew membership every year so the whole family can go when the spirit moves us. I didn’t think my granddaughter could fit into the monster’s mouth anymore, but she assured me she could.

And then, near the “rolling hill,” a little monkeying around.


The hotel we usually stay in, near the Zoo, was all booked up (The Park View) so we stayed in Metairie, where we have another favorite restaurant with char-grilled oysters: Drago’s.

We all split a platter of the char-grilled oysters, and then N. ordered raw oysters as her entree. LOL, when you travel with the grandparents, you get what you want.
Breakfast was also at a familiar restaurant, La Madeleine, this one located just around the corner from Dragos, where we eat their famous oysters. What is not to love – omelettes, galettes, croissants, pastries and for me, good coffee.
Then, because they are older now, we take them somewhere new – the Mardi Gras Museum. It’s a huge warehouse where floats are stored, restored, and created, and where grand parties are held during Mardi Gras. I wasn’t sure the kids would like it, but they did. We watched a short historical movie, learned a lot, and then had a ball self-touring the collection. You can take a guided tour, but we all have short attention spans and headed out to start in the less populated sections.
























You might have mixed feelings about Mardi Gras – I know I do. I never know what drunk people might do; things can get wacky in a hurry. There is a tawdriness in the customs. And yet – I love this museum. I love the creativity of these artists who use styrofoam to create the most amazing images. One of them talked with my granddaughter and I and said “I can’t believe I get paid to do this!” I love the inclusivity of the Mardi Gras Activities, and the care and attention that go into creation of so many of the costumes, particularly the African-American Indian costumes, beaded and feathered.
As we are finishing, drips start coming down through small leaks in the warehouse ceiling, and we know we need to head back to Pensacola. My thought was we would try to keep ahead of the storm, but the reality was, we were on the leading edge for three hours, only escaping as we got close to Pensacola. It caught up with us later in the evening.

Chasing Petroglyphs: Our Last Day in Moab

Today is a day purely for leisure and having fun; we head into Moab for the Moab Arts Fest. It is very family-oriented, with games and entertainment and food, and booths with hand crafted items. I find a fiber artist and a great gift for my sister, a spidery light bright red wrap with silk fibres pressed into it. It is stunning. I can easily imagine it on my stylish sister.
We decide to have lunch at Singha Thai because we so thoroughly enjoyed their food our first night in Moab. This food was equally impressive.







So much food, the veggies crisp-cooked and delicious! AdventureMan had the basil chicken with lots of broccoli, and I had the ginger chicken, more sweet red peppers and spring onions. We couldn’t begin to eat it all, so we packed it up and had it on our Trail’s End veranda for our own sunset dinner.

Chasing Petroglyphs: Newspaper Rock, Needles and Canyonland

As AdventureMan reads through these posts, he delights in how much he has already forgotten, and he looks forward to reading about what he called “one of our light days.”
I look at him in astonishment. As occasionally happens, I remember things very differently,
“We got a relaxed start,” I begin, which in our language means we did not hit the road at the crack of dawn, but maybe around 0830, “but we were on the road until about 2:00! And it was some tough driving! No place to stop for lunch, we just had apples and oranges by the side of the road.” And water. Lots and lots of water. It was again in the 90’s, and very dry, and there are signs everywhere warning us to drink water.
We don’t have to start from Moab, we just reach SR 191 and turn south. The first thing we come across is Wilson’s Arch:


And another place called Hole in the Wall, but I can’t tell if it is a famous Hole in the Wall or an adventure outfitting place. There is an ATV perched precariously on the top of the cliff.
We turned off 191 to go to Canyonlands, and soon came to Newspaper Rock.

Early on, I mentioned how fragile and transient petroglyphs can be. We don’t really know who made them. We know that many of the earliest petroglyphs incised were written over, improved, by later early peoples. And then, modern day man, who had done the most damage of all – carving his initials over ancient glyphs, removing glyphs, defacing glyphs, rubbing glyphs (thus eroding their edges and making them more vulnerable to weathering elements), chalking glyphs to make them more visible, even touching glyphs leaves chemicals that damage the quality of the glyphs.
When we got to Newspaper Rock, we parked at the wrong end of the parking lot and ended up on a trail going entirely the wrong way. AdventureMan kept saying he thought we needed to go back, but the further along we got, the more I thought we were on the right track – until the track ended. We walked back, and just at the other end of the parking lot was the Newspaper Rock – near the road and protected by a large grill.
The thing is – I saw others, too, nearby. I am so thankful they protected Newspaper Rock, because through the years many of the incisions have been defaced. I am hoping that the others are being protected by the very lack of trails and signage, by the lack of publicity. It’s a pity we should have to protect the petroglyphs from our own citizens.



I think of Newspaper Rock as a kind of scratch pad. Even Leonardo da Vinci, the great inventor, engineer and artist, made sketches before he executed a masterpiece. I can see traces of the Fremont peoples, and I can see scraps of petroglyphs we have viewed in Vernal.

AdventureMan found Newspaper Rock a very emotional experience. He felt connected to these early people. When I look at these footprints of all sizes dancing around, I feel their joy. And look at the hand – that is almost modern in it’s representation of a human hand; and I think back to the petroglyphs at White Mountain which may have represented the human hand or may have represented the terror of a bear claw. These feet are so happy, and, interestingly, so similar in form. I wonder how they were formed?



I’ve broken the wall into different panels with photographs; taken in total, it is overwhelming.





Much more modern era; we see horses introduced

Those lines – snakes? Rivers? Directions? A life?

I would guess this central figure is a shaman, with what coming off his headdress? Some kind of special decoration on his legs? The target symbol, as opposed to the spiral? The smaller horned man? All those animals – prayers for a good hunt? Celebration of a good hunt?

This one intrigues me – a scorpion? It is just weird!

A dancing bison? Look at the feet and . . . um . . . feet; they are very hoof like. An elk with a magnificent rack and maybe a spear in it’s side?



These last two are not with the others. I believe some well-meaning guide has chalked them so that visitors can see the faint traces.

And this is what the Newspaper Rock looks like in total.

We were no longer alone. Visitors from all over the world were coming, looking and photographing.
We drove to the end of the drivable-without-dire-warnings road. The scenery was increasingly arid and bleak, with it’s own terrible beauty. At one point, we were about to hike out to an old dwelling cave, and we looked at each other. It was noon, and signs everywhere were saying “do not hike in the hottest hours” and it was HOT. We drank some water, ate some oranges, got back in the car, reluctant to pass on an adventure, but happy to pass on potential disaster.

There was actually a ranch out here, and this was the last water we saw. It’s still Spring.






Just a half mile there, and a half mile back . . . we passed.




















































