Missing You, Adventure Man
I’m eating here, all alone, in a booth for one, surrounded by a million other customers. Son and his wife are at work, and Sonny’s isn’t their favorite place. It’s low brow, it’s folksy, and oh, how I miss southern barbecue when I am back in Kuwait.
The waitress, Tammy, is country and sweet and cares about all her customers, I have the fried catfish with Sonny’s baked beans and a side of cole claw . . .I have my non-sweet iced tea, I have my Sudoku . . . missing you too much, Adventure Man:
The Real Florida
So many Americans visit Disneyland and think they have visited Florida. Disneyland, and the huge shopping mall that is Orlando is about as close to the real Florida as skiing down an artificial hill in Dubai is to really skiing.
There is a real Florida. You can go there. You’ll need sunscreen, you will need beach shoes, and you will need mosquito repellent.
One of the first places to go is the Florida Everglades. Take a boat ride back into the swamps, take a whole day, or even two. And take your camera. There are alligators, and a million species of water birds. When the motor cuts off, just use your ears and listen . . .the Everglades is an amazing place, beautiful, even a little eerie, with the Ahingas and herons and water birds.
The Florida Keys are a blast. Key West is like it’s own country, a little off-beat – no, WAAAAYYY off beat. Stay in a bed and breakfast, leave your car and just walk around. Take one of the dive boats, if you dive, or the snorkle boat trips if you don’t dive. They provide all the equipment and will take you out to a reef where you can snorkle for a few hours, and see more glorious and gorgeous fish than you would see in a lifetime of searching, in bath-water warm water. It’s like God’s great aquarium, it’s a mystical experience, seeing all the life underwater. Head for the wharf at sundown, for the “green flash” as the sun dips into the water and the reggae plays and humanity in all it’s diversity gathers to send the sun to bed.
Cocoa Beach, where the space shuttles launch, is a totally cool and very funky place. It gets really crowded when the shuttles are about to launch, but there are some very fun and very relaxed restaurants there, and some great surf when a storm is brewing.
Sanibel Island, off season, where you find miraculous sea shells by just strolling the beaches as the tide goes back out, and watch the most amazing sunsets.
Take the family to Crystal Springs, “just north of Tampa” but I remember it being a LONG drive! You get there, pick out the size innertube or raft you want (I prefer the ones with the sealed center, because your bottom can get REALLY cold hanging in the spring waters) and head for the source of Crystal Springs on a bus. You can choose a short route or the long route – you will know your own children, and what they can handle. We like the long route.
You get into your tube, into the water, and . . . you float! You float for two or three hours, and the water is so clear you can see the fish just feet below you. You float through areas of vine covered trees and tannin stained waters, you see what Florida looked like before man. It is WILD and beautiful. At the end, you are pretty cold, but oh, what a grand adventure.
Wakulla Springs is the deepest freshwater spring in Florida, and they have glass bottomed boats you can go on to see all the life underwater. We especially love the old fashioned lodge there, just a few miles south of Tallahassee. Wakulla Springs Lodge
And I am only now getting to the very best part. For a great adventure, we love Myakka River State Park. It is one of the oldest recreational parks in Florida, with excellent hiking trails, over 1000 alligators in the lake, and a boat trip – on a boat driven by a giant fan – around the lake. Adventure Man has always said that if he ever thinks about retiring, he wants to be the park ranger driving this boat and showing people all the alligators. It is a thrillingly beautiful place. It is near Venice beach, famous for fossilized shark tooth hunting.
But we go just a little bit further south, to a little beachside community called Englewood Beach. We have collected thousands of fossilized shark’s teeth on Englewood Beach – it is a treasure trove. We stay at the Weston Resort which is really a conglomeration of properties near the southernmost tip of the barriar island on which Englewood Beach exists, and from which you walk right into the state park where you can’t drive.
I see that they now have parking for like 25 cents an hour – it used to be free, but you only got a parking spot if you got there by around 8 in the morning, there were so few parking places. But you always have a place to park if you are staying at the “resort”. The resort isn’t really a resort, it is a very beachy place, and most people rent by the week, or even, during winter, by the month. They have their favorite units and their favorite buildings. The units all have kitchens, some even with ovens and all with coffee makers and microwaves. It’s a very old time-y Florida kind of place to stay. We love it. We dream of Englewood Beach!
There are still a few other funky Florida places. You have to rent a car, and you have to be willing to go off the beaten track. Take some of the backroads, drive along the Gulf Coast – Florida is a LONG state, and it is really a two day drive – or more – if you start in the Keys and drive to the Alabama border, near Pensacola. The real Florida has its own beauty, you just have to take the time and effort to find it. Once you do – you will be hooked on Florida.
Flash for Sparkle: Atlanta 1
My sister, Sparkle Plenty has a blog on which she writes about only GOOD things, the tiny light that defies the darkness. As I was enduring my trip back this time, I thought of her when I got to Atlanta.
In fact, I was so impressed with this flash of light that I stopped, unloaded my camera from the carryon, and juggling my carry-on, my venti and my camera, walked the kilometer or so that this exhibit was staged between the A concourse and B concourse in Atlanta.
I am so glad I did. It totally lifted my mood, and it felt like a gift from the city of Atlanta. These are all statues by Zimbabwean artists – yes, plonked down as a public art project in the middle of the Atlanta airport. They must have paid a fortune to ship these statues, to create the huge posters on the walls showing crafts and scenes from Zimbabwe, poor Zimbabwe, in it’s steady downward spiral, these artists pull miracles out of the hat.
This was one of the wall posters, featuring Zimbabwean hand woven baskets:
Bravo to all cities that spend a little so that we can be lifted out of our everyday doings and taken to another world of texture, ideas and line. Bravo, Atlanta!
Burner Phone
As soon as I arrived, I turned on my “burner” phone, which I bought the last time I travelled in the US. This phone is also called a “throw-down” phone; people in illegal trades use them all the time. They cost like $14.95 and you buy minutes for them.
Unlike the expensive phone I have been buying a new chip for almost every time I come to the US, this phone powers right up after almost three months of never being used, has full power, still has the same number, which I discover is good until NOVEMBER, and even though I dropped it into the cat’s fresh water the first day I bought it, it works. It works.
How can something so cheap be so sturdy and so functional? It doesn’t have all the bells and whistles of my more expensive phones, but it does everything I need it to do – I can make and receive calls, I can make my own phone book, I can speed dial . . .
and it makes me laugh to think I have a drug dealer phone. Hee heee heee, too funny.
Travel Woes
Adventure Man says a successful trip is one where the number of landings equals the number of take-offs. With that in mind, I can’t complain about my most recent trip.
I can’t complain that once again KLM cancelled my flight and didn’t bother notifying me. I can’t complain that they made another reservation for me that I found while trying to reserve my seat. I can’t complain that when I went to check in, the other airline showed me on their screen that KLM LIED and said they had tried to notify me (believe me, they have my phone number, they can text me, they can e-mail me and NONE of that happened) but couldn’t and they failed to provide the ticketing information, and the flight was full. I can’t complain that I had to haul all my baggage back over to KLM, stand in the very long angry line and be invaded by people who thought they were too important to stand in line and would walk right up the the harried ticketers and insist on being handled right now.
I can’t complain that I ended up on a FOURTEEN hour flight next to a four year old who threw up half way throught the flight.
The number of landings equalled the number of take-offs. I arrived safely, and my baggage also arrived. Thanks be to God.
Purgatorian Packing
Back in November, we talked about what we pack in our suitcases.
Flying out of Kuwait, however, hits me in my weakest spot. While I find life often unpredictable, and I have learned to roll with it and even to like it and to miss it when it is TOO predictable, I like predictability when I am flying.
Once again, I have gone online to discover that the reservation I thought I had has become a totally different reservation.
I am guessing the airline thought they were doing a frequent flyer a big favor, but here is what has happened. From an elegantly efficient flight with two comfortable connections, I now have a flight that has four very tight connections.
I have two problems – one is that I suspect my bags will not make it. I am guessing the change happened right about when I looked at the dress I wore to Doha (see Travel Karma Failure) and ended up wearing for four days in a row and thought “that held up pretty well, think I will wear that on my long flight back” and I am guessing it was at that very moment my reservations got changed.
I’m not superstitious, but I am wondering if that is a bad luck dress?
Second, I have an inter-Europe flight, and I am wondering if my carry-on will make it on that flight; I know that shorter flights often restrict what you can take on with you. And in my carry-on, I need to do the Purgatorian thing and have extra clothing for while I am waiting for my bags to arrive, as well as my computer, my camera, and other small things like keys, three cell phones (don’t even ask) that work for me. So inside my carry-on I need to have an even smaller bag that I can grab out if they take my carry-on away, so that I am not carrying a naked computer around.
Arrrrrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhhh!
The title relates to the very organized habits of my fellow blogger, Purgatory, who just celebrated his three year Blogaversary, and who is coming up on another birthday. His rules for packing have logic and organization, and in a purgatorian kind of situation, you need to be able to think in a Purgatorian kind of way, taking account of all the hellish variations. And I am guessing that if there is a purgatory, (althought the Catholic church said this year that there is not), that it is a lot like an airport, waiting for a departure, thinking of eternity.
No Accounting for Taste
My Mother once joked that the definition of good taste was someone whose taste agreed with your own. Her house is all smooth, modern, elegant lines, while mine is all old, antique and semi-antique. She has clean lines and clear surfaces, and I am guessing that to her, my decor is cluttered. (Not that she criticizes me.) We just have different tastes.
My husband and I also have different tastes. Often, his eye will alight on something, say like a Masai shield 7 feet long, and he will say “wouldn’t that be great in our house?” and my response is “yes! In your den!” He calls his den The Adventure Man Museum, and says that the only thing the Tarek Rejab has on him is that they have had a couple more decades of collecting. But he is still working on it!
He LOVES these trees. He keeps threatening to buy a couple for our yards back home. I mention little things like shipping expenses. . . . or maybe he is pulling my leg – ya think?
So far, we agree that they look great in context. I am not so sure they would do so sell in a rainy climate.
And this is what I love:
You used to find these everywhere in the Gulf, even in the cities you would find them in the diwaniyyas. This is the only one I have seen since I came to Kuwait, and it is in a museum. I remember being out in the beit-as-shar in the desert (for my non-Arabic speaking friends: tents, literally, House of Hair because the tenting was woven of goat and camel hair.) I remember the sound of the metal clanging as the coffee was ground in the morter, I remember the smell of the wood fire when the coffee was brewing, and I remember the coffee being poured through branches that kept (some of) the grounds out. I miss that ceremony; I miss the sounds and smells and taste, because out in the desert coffee tastes different. It wasn’t that long ago – but I never see them anymore.
Do you?
GoogleEarth – Make Your Own Maps
You, too, can make your own maps, and get where you need to go, thanks to GoogleEarth. If you are a landmark driver, like me, this will make your day.
A friend gave me a map to her house that blew my mind – it was a GoogleEarth map, with lines and arrows and landmarks – everything I need when I am driving. I could see the roundabouts! I could see the major landmarks! I knew EXACTLY where to turn, which mosque where I would turn right, and which field to drive across.
She said her husband had done it; she didn’t know how. I opened GoogleEarth and figured it out. Now – oh my! I have maps to everywhere! It is so totally cool!
You open Google, find EXACTLY the image you need to use for your map (be sure your major landmarks are in the frame) and you go to File on the toolbar and scroll down to Save – there is an arrow, and you choose Save Image.
You open your drawing program – in my case, Appleworks, but it will work with your drawing program, too.
You paste your map into your drawing program, and then you add your arrows showing the route to take, and you add text identifying the landmarks, and perhaps writing out the directions.
And then you print. It’s that easy. And holy smokes, the maps are totally usable.
Travel Karma Failure
I have really good travel karma – most of the time. Even when things go wrong, something good comes out of it. And before you read any further, you must know that during this trip, I had a really good time, surrounded by friends, good conversation, a lot of laughter and a very understanding husband – it had a happy ending. But this was a serious travel karma failure.
Oh, I had planned to carefully – fly out early, my friends pick me up, we loll around the pool catching up, grab a bite to eat, and eventually they drop me off at my hotel where I hook up with my husband.
Only this is what I saw on my way to the airport:
And this is what I saw as the plane was delayed – and delayed – and delayed again:
And this is what the airport looked like as more and more planes got delayed:
After – literally – hours, we board. We are rolling away from the airport when a guy a couple seats up from me says . . . something . . . to the stewardess and the guy across from him. As the plane continues rolling, I watch the guy across the aisle get up, go to the galley and make a phone call. The plane keeps rolling rolling rolling, but . . . rolls to a stop and all kinds of vehicals come out to the plane.
They all have a discussion:
But you know this part of the world, everyone has an opinion and wants to be heard. Back and forth up and down the aisle. The entire Qatar soccer team weighed in on this one:
Somehow, it all got resolved. I get to Doha – not early morning, but six at night. I’ve already told my friends to forget picking me up in peak traffic time, but I would see them the next day – we already had plans. But the topping on this perfect day is that my suitcase didn’t come. People were sent looking here and there, and another hour passed.
No suitcase. No explanation, but they assure me the suitcase is still in Kuwait. Get it here, I tell them, I need it. Send it to my hotel. And I rush to duty free to pick up some face cream and mascara and lipstick – you know, the essentials. When I get to the hotel I realize I have nothing, but the gift shop, thank God, has very large T-shirts I can sleep in, a hairbrush, a toothbrush and even underpants.
My greatest fear, as the suitcase continues to NOT show up, is that I will never see it again. It is a great suitcase, and inside it is my computer power cord. Normally a balanced, easy going person, I have bad dreams, angry dreams, frustrated dreams and I wake unrested, and wanting clean clothes.
My husband, not normally known for his patience, was very tenderly patient with me. I think he was more than a little bewildered to see me so bent out of shape. It was probably funny – if you weren’t me.
For three days, for every event, I wear the same clothes. Three days. The bag finally showed up this morning – still at the airport – just in time for my return trip to Kuwait.
Now that, my friends, is a SERIOUS travel karma failure.
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