Open Window

Capri

Taking the Boat from Positano to Capri

The island of Capri can be reached from a number of places along the Amalfi Coast and takes just over an hour from Positano. The day we went was ideal, warm breezes, lots of sunshine and calm seas. We boated around the island seeing several grottos, all named by colors - white, green and, of course, the famous blue one. We saw the queue of boats waiting to get in to the Blue Grotto and decided to take a pass on that one. 

We hired a taxi for the four hours we were going to be on the island and the driver, Massimo, couldn't have been nicer. He took us up to Capri, where we walked the town. Peter and I both dubbed it Rodeo Drive on an island. Every high-end designer has a shop along these cobblestones streets. It's breathtaking - truly.

Lunch was at a small restaurant overlooking Marina Piccolo, and my grilled prawns were delivered to their doors while we were enjoying a glass of vino blanco in the shade staring out at the bluest sea I've ever seen.

Finally, Massimo drove us to Anacapri, the highest point on the island and encouraged us to take the chair lift to the very top. It was only mildly hazy and we could see Mount Vesuvius quite clearly in the distance. 

A wonderful day all around and we all were quiet on the boat ride back to Positano, soaking up all we'd seen and watching Capri fade in to the distance.

 

Photos and Slide Show ©2012 Claudia Ward
Music: Un Signo Di Dio, Christophe Beck from "Under The Tuscan Sun" 

The Amalfi Coast

Peter and I came to Positano to see what so many postcards show as a picture perfect location on the west coast of Italy. I daydreamed over just such a postcard sitting in a windowless Wall Street cubicle for several years. Friends had traveled here and shared stories of the drama of the roads and the beauty of the landscapes. Now, it's our turn to see it …. but NOT behind a wheel!

Granted the trip here was un-nerving (and a little embarrassing) but we're photographers, i.e. people who take pictures - a lot - and you can't drive the Amalfi Coast and shoot it at the same time - it's an impossibility. So, we got the rental agency in Naples to come collect that mediocre Fiat, and we followed the example of a dear, dear friend … we hired a car to drive us along the coast and in to the hills. We would never have seen so much of the coast and its beauty if we had both been watching the road. 

Our driver, whose name is Alex, speaks five languages and is learning Arabic as well. He asked what we wanted to see, made some suggestions and then let us free to photograph and enjoy on our own - perfect. We saw the most amazing views from the terrace of the Hotel San Pietro (the #1 hotel in Europe for the last four years, according to Alex), we were given a tour of a ceramics shop by the owner, we stopped at the Emerald Grotto (more about that later), we spent an hour in the square of Amalfi, and we enjoyed lunch and wine in the mountain village of Ravello. A nearly perfect day … …. ….

The Emerald Grotto is not far from Positano and is easily accessible by elevator. Once at sea-level, entry to the grotto costs 5 Euro per person. You enter the grotto with the Mediterranean lapping at your feet and suddenly you're in the cool darkness of this cave filled with very tall ceilings and filled with a lake of tidal waters. There were very few people here which was one of the attractions - in fact, there were only eight of us in this perfectly rectangular flat-bottomed boat. Our guide was a young, very flirtatious dark-haired Italian who took a liking to the two young American girls he placed in the front seat. We climbed onboard without incident although my camera swung out of my jacket as I tried to climb over the seats we were to sit on, giving me pause. In this darkness and on the water, my camera would be useless, so I packed it more securely inside my jacket and sat back to enjoy the ride.

The grotto is small so the tour was short, despite the young Italian trying to make it longer in order to snag a date, but within about 15-20 minutes we were back where we started. After the Italians in the stern disembarked, it was Peter's turn and as he was bent over climbing over the last seat we heard it … the awful sound of something being dropped in to water. The "driver" thought it was a lens cap … I knew better, so did Peter … it was his brand-new and beloved GoPro and the short tripod it was attached to. Once he got off, Peter turned and could see the camera about two meters underwater. The good news is that it's in a waterproof case, the bad news is waves were cresting the rocks we stood on and a large tour group of about twenty had just queued up to have their turn in the boats in the grotto. I rescued Peter's camera bag which was getting wet on the grotto floor, took the vest he was wearing that held several cameras as well, and exited to the rocky shoreline to wait. I knew Peter wouldn't leave that grotto without the camera and/or one heck-of-a-try. 

As I sat just outside the grotto, the seas sent larger and larger waves to the shore and I had to move twice to avoid standing or sitting in water. I knew this didn't bode well for Peter. I had seen two other flat-bottomed boats inside, so I knew that the tours could go on, and I thought this couldn't be the first time this had happened. Finally, after what seemed like an interminable amount of time but in fact was only 20 minutes, Peter appeared with a strained smile on his face and GoPro in hand. What were his first words …. ? "Darn, I wish the camera had been on … it was looking straight up at me!" Apparently it had taken 50-60 attempts to capture the camera with a broom and a net that had a large hole in it, but at the end of the day, Peter prevailed … as I knew he would. He later told me he had been prepared to go in and get it if he'd had to … he could see it, he just couldn't reach it, but once again  … a happy ending.

Alex returned us to our hotel at about 5:30 p.m. happy and exhausted and knowing we'd never have seen so much on our own, driving and parking along the way. Too tired for dinner downstairs, we enjoyed antipasti in the room and were both sound asleep well before 10:00 p.m.

 

The Balcony at Eden Roc

The Balcony at Hotel Eden Roc in Positano, Italy.

Early Morning Blue Hour from the Balcony, Positano, Italy

Breakfast on the Balcony at Eden Roc

 

Venice to Positano

Venice from the Water © 2012 Peter Tooker

After twelve days in Venice, we bid this beautiful city a fond "arividerci" early this morning, taking a water taxi to the stazione for our train to Rome. Mario, the night desk clerk at our locanda, kindly helped us get our luggage down the three flights of stairs (that we will not miss) and around the corner to the Bridge of Sighs where the taxi was waiting for us. How appropriate, as I in fact did sigh as I watched the now familiar city diminish into the distance. 

We were pleasantly surprised when we saw the train that would carry us to Rome over the next three and a half to four hours. It was modern, sleek, and very clean, the complete opposite of the train that had brought us to Venice. Our luggage relay was a little rusty after not having been used for almost two weeks, but we persevered. Peter went on ahead with the "big, black monster", a.k.a. his suitcase, and was able to tuck it under a compact luggage rack at the center of the train. He returned to the platform for my suitcase, and I continued to watch over our precious camera cases. Finally the "hand luggage" and I were loaded, and Peter and I found our seats - two facing each other, with a table in between, on the sunny side of the train. We dozed early on and then took in the amazing Tuscan countryside. What I saw outside our window looked just like all of those travel posters and postcards, so they must have been real. 

Our transfer in Rome to a train heading for Naples was fairly uneventful. By now, we know that there's very little space for large bags, so time is of the essence when the doors open for boarding. In Rome, our train was late arriving and had passengers who had to disembark before we could get on. Poor Peter was blocked from starting our relay by an American couple who were getting off the train with as much luggage as we have. Finally, once they had cleared the doorway, Peter scrambled on board with bag "in hand" and seemed to disappear for an awfully long time. When he leaped off the other end of the coach, I learned that he'd had to "run a gauntlet" with the "big, black monster", the entire length of the train car to find the luggage racks at the other end chockablock full with small carry-on cases. The owners of these cases looked at their cases and then at Peter's monster, took pity on him, and quickly removed their bags to the overhead bins. We hoisted everything else on board, placed most of it in the racks above our heads, and dropped into our window seats panting, thanking the dear Lord, that we only have to do this one more time.

Now for the driving part of our story ….

In Naples, we rented a car to get us to Positano. Peter fondly remembers driving across Europe and in Italy back in the 70s in a late-60s BMW - loving the speed and hairpin turns. Well the manual Fiat Punto Evo we rented is no BMW! The gear box is soft, the brakes are tight, and the steering is a little sloppy, all things Peter will have to come to terms with over the next several days. As many of you know, the Italians are not long on discipline when it comes to going from Point A to Point B whether in a car, on a scooter, or on foot. Lines on the roads are meaningless, cross walks were created to be ignored, and traffic lights need to be obeyed only if the polizia are watching … or so it seemed to us. The roundabout just outside the train station nearly did us in, but we eventually found our way to the A3 South. Aahhhhh …. a highway. We thought this would be a welcome change to the congested city traffic. Well it quickly became apparent that those on the highway love speed about as much as they cherish their independence. Peter found a comfortable "stride" for this leg of the trip, which quickly made him feel like he was standing still - a feeling most men, mine in particular, would rather not feel. As we were exceeding the speed limits by 10kph, other cars were speeding up to our rear end bumper, abruptly changing lanes, honking, and rapidly roaring off into the distance leaving us with the distinct impression that we had been in their way. Surely, we thought we'd be able to relax when the city and highway were behind us.

The highway heading toward Sorrento undulates along the coastal mountains, rising above some villages and sloping down to seaside towns. The view across the Gulf of Naples, back toward the city, was breathtaking. The bright blue waters sparkled in the foreground and the mountains stood out distinctly in the distance. We had heard stories of the winding roads along the Amalfi Coast, with traffic jam ups with tourist buses, but we were sailing along with one in front of us, one behind, and a number of them passing us easily going in the other direction. We were feeling more comfortable with the car and the roads were well marked, directing us toward Sorrento and then on to Positano. This is the last leg of this day's travels and we were looking forward to arriving in this place I'd dreamt of seeing for so many years.

If the roads to Sorrento are winding, the roads to Positano are just plain treacherous. The lanes became narrower, the climbs became steeper, and the Italians became more dangerous. Upcoming hairpin turns were announced in degrees - 1 degree, to my mind, was really 359 degrees because we ended up practically where we began but on another level. We took the road turn-for-turn and were glad to finally see Positano in the distance. 

Parked cars and scooters line the narrow streets of Positano, and pedestrians amble in the streets because there are very few sidewalks. As we were beginning to think we'd made it, we saw the nose of a very large tour bus pull around a corner. As it advanced toward us, Peter pulled close to the building on our right but found our nose about to hit a metal sign post. The bus had stopped because he couldn't advance without hitting us and the driver began signing us to backup. There were only inches left between us and the bus, and it was wedged in between the corner of a building and our car. Peter tried and tried to get the car into reverse, as the bus driver looked down on us with a grin. Scooters were weaving between the bus and us, honking their annoyance as they passed. Pedestrians stood dangerously close to the back of our car, as if they couldn't possibly be hit by this obvious tourist. Finally, the good-natured bus driver climbed down from his perch, leaned into our car and lifted the stick shift, showing us how to get it in to reverse. Greatly relieved yet grossly embarrassed, Peter got the car into reverse, backed up several yards and pulled tight against the flat side of a building. Another kind swarthy Italian now directed traffic, signaling to Peter which way to turn his wheels, waving one scooter passed after another, advising pedestrians to get out of the way, and then bidding the tour bus goodbye. The bottleneck broken, everyone continued on their way - another disaster averted.

Eden Roc is on the east side of Positano and I can honestly say I have never been greeted anywhere as warmly as we were here. This hotel is half way up the edge of the mountain, overlooking the Mediterranean, and has a single car pull-in just next to the front door. Happily we exited the car, dreading having to find a parking place for it for the night, but right after his "Bona sera", the manager advised us that they would see the car to a garage and all of our bags to our room - what welcome words those were. Within minutes of arriving at the front desk, we were on our flower lined balcony, gazing out at my picture-postcard view of Positano and the Mediterranean, sipping a complementary glass of champagne. We'd made it and just as the day was ending.

Having only eaten peanuts and cookies all day, an early dinner in the hotel restaurant was in order. Carlo couldn't have been kinder, recommending local wine to accompany our prosciutto & melon, homemade minestrone soup, grilled prawns, and fritto misto. He even brought the last of the wine, Peter's grappa and handmade chocolates to our room, so we could enjoy the end of the day on our balcony, which we did.

Positano, Italy

 

Burano, Italy

Burano is one of the Northern Islands of Venice known for its brightly colored houses. Local tradition says that the bright colors used to enable each fisherman to identify his house from the sea but now it's just for the pleasant effect. Burano is so obviously a living community with grandparents, children, and dogs all calling out and barking at each other across the campo (square).

Reflections on Burano

We were on this charming island on a bright sunny day which was dazzling, but Peter and I wished it was a foggy day - the kind in which bright colors stand out so beautifully - but the sun didn't deter us from snapping left and right all of the new colorful sights. As we left the group and walked east, the crowds thinned and we could appreciate what a special island this is.

Burano Church Tower

Neighbors carry on conversations between houses, a friend was called away from his newspaper to help reach something caught on a line, and the familiar scales of a piano lesson resounded off the walls of the nearby church tower, which was leaning and looming over the neighborhood.

Open Doorway in Burano

Doors and windows were all open to the cobblestone walkways, and I found it particularly entertaining in this exceptionally colorful environment to have caught a glimpse of two young women chatting in an all-white kitchen - white floor and ceiling, white cabinets and counters, and white appliances. 

A Bright Happy House on Burano

Over loaded with color our group slowly found its way to a large square and collected a group of tables together to enjoy the afternoon sun and some local wine. An hour later we were back on the Vaporetto taking us back to Piazza San Marco via Murano. The trip took an hour but the warm breeze off the water relaxed us all as we took in the setting sun across the lagoon's waters.

Leaving Burano

Venice Within the Frame

Peter and I are in Venice for a holiday, to celebrate his birthday, AND for a week long "photography adventure" called Venice Within the Frame. David duChemin and Jeffrey Chapman are two humantitarian photographers who, for two to three years now, have been running week long "workshops" at various locations around the world. On average there are 10 participants and the group enjoys the companionship of other like-minded individuals, sharing their perspectives and images, and learning from one another as well as the "teachers". I'll write more about this later, but for now I'm sharing these two images with you that I need to decide between for sharing with the group this morning. Please, let me know, ... which do you prefer, and, if you're inclined, tell me why!

 

 

 

Happy Birthday ...

... to my wonderful husband! Together in Venice and so easily entertained.

Peter & Me Together in Venice

Peter & Me Reflecting on Venice

May 5: Murano

Murano, Italy

After a wonderful night sleep, Peter and I made plans to visit two of the northern islands today - Murano and Burano. Murano is known for its glass-blowing industry and Burano is known for its colorful houses, but first … Peter wanted to bet on the Kentucky Derby which was going to run late this afternoon (EDT). Challenges lay ahead. First, access to the internet is spotty at best here, and second, when you're on the internet everything is VERY slow. It took Peter all morning to place only $3.00 of bets, which left both of us frustrated and cranky, for different reasons. With an agreement to return to the hotel by 5:00 p.m. so he could resume his betting efforts, Peter and I headed out to see the islands. The owner of our "hostel", Giuliano, recommended we walk north to the northern coast of Cannaregio to pick up the 41/42 Vaporetti to Murano, and then later to take the 14 (formerly known as 13 and changed for no known reason) to Burano. He said we could easily pick up a 14 to return us to Piazza San Marco.

We set off and quickly knew we were not on the path Giuliano had recommended but we were happy to be discovering more of Venice. Under normal circumstances I would consult my watch and the sun to determine if we were at least walking in the right direction, but the "streets" are often only narrow passage ways, only two people-wide, and the walls are high, so it's impossible to take your bearings on the sun. We eventually saw signs for the Hospital, which was one of the landmarks, Giuliano suggested we use to find our way, and once we skirted Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo, we could see the Canal and islands in the distance.

We boarded a 41 around 2:00 p.m. feeling accomplished and hungry, and looking forward to a good lunch on Murano, but events would unfold differently. The 41 comes FROM Murano and travels west and south heading for the Grand Canal. It took several stops before I could convince Peter that, in fact, Murano was getting further away and we, in fact, were turning south, away from this northern island. We got off at the next stop and hopped on a 42 heading in the opposite direction. As always we weren't terribly disturbed about seeing new parts of this complex city of islands, but we were also seeing time eaten away.

Lunch was now our next order of business and my Rough Guide said that Busa Alla Torre was the best place to eat on the island … it also said it stopped serving lunch at 3:00 p.m., an hour that was rapidly approaching. Dashing off the Vaporetto, along the cobblestone path running parallel to the canal, and over two bridges, we arrived breathless and hungry in the Campo just before closing.

Rain was threatening by now - you could smell it in the air - but we ate outside under large umbrellas in spite. Pino Grigio was a fine complement to our Gnocchi with Salmon, Four Cheese Ravioli and a large mixed green salad. Over coffee, we re-ordered our itinerary once more and agreed that, given the hour - approaching 4:00 p.m. - Burano would have to be saved for another day. 

The waiters were now breaking down the tables, chairs and umbrellas around us. The square that had been half filled now had only three remaining tables, one occupied by a couple and their very gregarious and energetic daughter who was happily chasing and feeding the pigeons, one occupied by a group of five uniformed Carabinieri enjoying a coffee break, and one occupied by us. Peter decided to visit "the Gents" before moving on and as he was getting up, his foot caught the edge of the table, toppling the water glasses and soaking me in the process. The waiters provided me with napkins to dry off with and Peter continued on. When he returned his expression struck me as very odd. Once on the far side of the square, Peter fessed up and sheepishly explained that he was "taking care of business" when the door to his stall opened, and there, of all things, was the female Carabinieri. With embarrassment all around, she pulled the door shut and moved on. Peter successfully locked the stall door now only to hear mother and child trying to open it. As he left the stall, the gregarious little girl boldly, clearly, and repeatedly informed Peter, "You're in the wrong room! You're in the wrong room!" It wasn't until he looked over his shoulder as he exited the room that he caught that ever-familiar figure with a skirt tucked in the corner next to the door.

Murano Glass

Another adventure behind us, we walked along the canal peering in all of the shops with the beautiful Murano glass. Suddenly, my iPhone announced that I'd received a text message, and I had a brief exchange with a good friend from home. It seemed hard to believe that I could be walking this small island in Italy and have the ability to text half way around the world … I do love technology.

There was a rainbow to the south when we were returning to San Marco, clearly indicating that there had been heavy rain somewhere, just not where we had been - yeah! It was a little before 6:00 p.m. when Peter returned to the computer to place his bets for the Derby. "Expletive deleteds" darted through the air as absolutely nothing was working for him. Finally, he decided to go to an Internet Cafe around the corner to see if they have better access to the internet. It's there that he learned that the Italian government was standing in his way. The man who runs the cafe told Peter that the Italian government prohibits access to these gambling sights, and showed him a list specifically naming the sight he was now trying to get to. Frustrated AND defeated, Peter climbed the three stories of stairs wishing life could be a lot easier.

Piazza San Marco

Today is the day before the full moon when the moon rises before the sun sets and we could capture it in a well-lit landscape, or in this case seascape. We have been excited about this for months, imagining what it would be like to see the nearly-full moon rise out of the sea right next to the Isola di San Giorgio Maggiore. Clouds nearly dashed all of our hopes. A large cloud bank hung on the horizon when we got to the Piazza, which was teaming with tourists still. Undeterred we re-focused our attention on the lagoon, the gondolas, and the magnificent buildings around us, and then … drum-roll please … the biggest, brightest moon I've ever seen appeared half-covered with clouds - clouds that very quickly drifted away. The moon now shone brightly in the sky and its light danced upon the waters. We couldn't capture the images fast enough. 

The trials of the day seemed to be fading as we ecstatically photographed everything around us, Peter on one end of the waterfront and me on the other. Suddenly a young man with a camera around his neck was talking to me, speaking in very broken English. He was pointing to the bridge, where some woman was waving to us. I thought he might want me to take his picture, but he made no movements toward that end, he just continued to point to the bridge, saying the word bridge. I asked him what language he spoke, because I thought we might be able to communicate in French. He answered "English" which was obviously not the case. I decided to turn my back on him and return to my tripod and "shooting the moon". I thought nothing further about him.

Framing one image, I decided I had to move a foot to the left and I did, after which a young blond guy came up behind me and firmly poked me in the shoulder. I turned and saw him standing several feet behind me with a tripod, so I assumed I might have stepped into his shot. I apologized noting that I had no idea he was there. I continued to take pictures when suddenly, this young blond man, now wearing round glasses, came up right next to me and placed his tripod so its leg crossed mine. It was painfully apparent to me that either he desperately wanted to stand where I was standing for his picture, or these three people were somehow trying to run a "scam" on me - to separate me from some or all of my equipment. I relinquished my spot to the blond and quickly found Peter shooting in front of the gondolas. He heard my story and approached the woman of the group who was now on the waterfront with a tripod. As she was denying any wrong doing, the two guys approached to hear the exchange. Peter withdrew and very soon thereafter these three were no where to be seen. When I asked Peter what he'd said, he said I could hear it first hand when we watched what was recorded on the Go-Pro strapped to his chest. Perhaps that was the incentive for them to leave so quickly.

A little disheartened, I told Peter I was done for the night and we returned to our room to see the images we'd captured. A smile returned to my heart when I saw that we'd not only captured the moon rising over lagoon but we also got blue hour in Piazza San Marco - for us … once in a lifetime events.

Full Moon Over the Lagoon in Venice


Buona notte!

Full Moon Over Venice

There was a full moon over Venice less than 24 hours ago and 24 hours before that we were prepared to capture its rise before the sun went down ... on the waterfront at the Piazza San Marco in Venice. We thought all was lost when the clouds rolled in and didn't leave all afternoon. Even as moonrise approached, the bank of clouds to the southeast seemed determined to undermine our hopes ... and then, the biggest and brightest moon I think I've ever seen peaked above a large fluffy cumulus cloud, shedding light across the lagoon straight to my feet. Peter and I were thrilled, and the more our excitement mounted, the faster the clouds seemed to disappear. "Pinch me! Can I truly be in Venice, watching the light from a full moon dance on the waters of Venice?" The waters of the lagoon were constantly moving as the vaporetti, taxis, and other boats created waves in their wake. At blue hour, the gondolas at the base of Piazza San Marco were all tied up and tarped for the night, and they too danced on the waters as the waves lapped the shore.

This is our postcard to you - of the full moon in May over Venice.

 

Salzburg to Venice with Images

Salzburg, Austria - View from Our Room in the Hotel Europa

Thursday was our most challenging day and I started it with very little sleep. Anxious about our three trains and moving all of our luggage, I awoke around 3:30 a.m. and never went back to sleep. We've packed as "streamlined" as possible which still leaves us with two large suitcases, my "vanity" case, our two camera bags, my shoulder bag and Peter's Change-up camera bag. God help us! And he did by providing lots of wonderful strangers.

Salzburg, Austria

We walked across the square from our hotel (Austria Trend Hotel Europa) to the train station about 8:15 a.m. and quickly found our track. In the center of the platform, several schematics are posted one for each train that will come through the station. The schematic shows each coach number and where it will stop on the platform, i.e. section A, B, or C. It's very efficient and very Austrian. The train arrived on time and we started today's adventure at 9:06 a.m., happily tucked into our first class seats next to enormous picture windows. Breakfast was the first order and it was delicious. The views were even more spectacular to my mind as the trees have really bloomed in the past several days with the inordinately warm weather, the rivers have swollen with melted snows from the mountains, and the fields have turned a beautiful emerald green.

Today we had to change trains twice, once in Innsbruck and once in Verona. According to the schedule there would be 28 minutes for the transfer in Innsbruck and 31 minutes for the transfer in Verona. With all this luggage and the short durations the trains stay in the stations before departing for the next stop, these transfers are going to be real fire drills!

Austrian Alps - Salzburg, Austria

The train from Salzburg to Innsbruck was 20 minutes late arriving in Innsbruck, leaving us 8 minutes to get off the train, find the next track and then get on the next train. Yikes. We could see the track we needed to get to but there seemed to be no way to get there, except down, under and up! Peter approached the down escalator with his two rolling bags, leading with the monster suitcase, following with the rolling camera bag and wedging himself on a step in between. He was half way down when I approached the escalator and I quickly knew, for some unknown reason, I wasn't going to be able to do this. It was like "coming and going" at the same time, and I just couldn't do it. So, as Peter was approaching the bottom, I thought I'd put his camera bag on a step and send it down by itself. The bag was centered on a single step but as I let go of the handle, it caught the edge of the step and began to fall. I stood there, at the top of these moving stairs, and watched in disbelief as the bag rolled, end-over-end, down the stairs toward my unsuspecting beloved husband. As the noise of the oncoming bag caught his attention, Peter turned just in time for him to unload his bags onto "terra ferma" and try to catch the rogue case. He secured the bag with out harming himself but it did take him down, so now he and the camera case were at the base of the escalator, bouncing a little as each step folded itself in to the floor, AND … I was now floating closer and closer on my stair with my large suitcase in tow. I was praying he'd be able to get up and away before I arrived or there was going to be an awful pile-up. Peter got out of the way just in the nick of time.

We collected ourselves quickly, dashed through the tunnel under the tracks and then, with horror, faced the rising escalator that would take us to the track. The good news? The train was not there - it was running 10 minutes late … there is a God! We relayed our bags up this escalator and tried, desperately, to look as if all was right with the world - I seriously question whether I had any success. 

The train that took us to Verona was an Italian train - starkly different from the Austrian trains we'd been on to date. Rather than an open car with roomy seats organized in twos, this first class car had a long narrow hall on one side and compartments on the other, each with three seats facing another three seats. The first challenge was getting all of our stuff on the train before it closed its doors and left the station. As Peter was trying to determine where to stow "the monster", a very kind woman helped me load the smaller bags and I heard the final whistle blow as my feet left the platform and the train door closed behind me.

The center seats were the only ones left in our compartment (although our tickets indicated that the window seats were meant to be ours). Following examples left by others, Peter left our large luggage along the outer wall of the hall and put the smaller ones in a luggage rack above our heads. The older couple in the window seats were from Southern California and he was quite the "chatty Cathy". The other couple were young and Japanese, and they spent almost the entire trip in the bar car, so John, Melinda, Peter and I got to know each other quite well. Peter was situated in the compartment so he could see the luggage in the hall but also so he could take video of the passing countryside.

About half way to Verona, the train accelerated suddenly and out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw his extra-large black suitcase begin to move under its own steam. He darted in to the hall only to see this big-black monster independently rolling down the hall straight for the glass door at the end. Knowing he couldn't catch it before it collided with the door, Peter just prayed no one would open the door just as the suitcase approached. Once again, we were fortunate. The suitcase stopped without further incident. When Peter returned with the suitcase he turned it on its side - off the wheels!

This train was on time and we learned from John that it was going to stay in the Verona station for over 15 minutes, so Peter and I knew, we'd have ample time to disembark - whew! In fact, by the time we were on the platform not one other passenger from our train could be seen, except an English-speaking German who was smoking a cigarette, waiting for this train to continue its journey south. 

The Verona train station is under construction - disorganized construction compared to the construction of the Salzburg station. In Salzburg, escalators AND elevators worked despite the construction, here neither worked so we knew we'd have to move everything down the stairs, through the tunnel and then up more stairs to the platform. The relay was our plan here. Peter and I would take the valuable camera equipment down the stairs, I would stay with them, and he would go back up stairs for the large cases. As we were approaching the half-way point on the first pass, we saw the black monster case being ferried quickly and efficiently down the stairs by our English-speaking German friend. He deposited the case, bid us a safe journey and bounded back up the stairs to catch his train. I promised to think kind thoughts about him for the rest of the day.

The tunnel was dark and we were still uncertain about which track we should be heading for and out of the darkness appeared … John. I think he felt sorry for us and since we hadn't appeared on the platform for the train to Venice, he back-tracked to find us. He was our second savior, and he and his wife continued to be for the remainder of our journey to Venice. They helped us load our gear onto the next train and they helped us get it off in Venice. As they were walking in to the station, quickly being enveloped by an oncoming throng, Peter called to them - thanking them again and promising to buy them a drink if and when our paths crossed again. With a smile and a wave, they disappeared.

Now for the last leg of today's trying trials - getting to the hotel. This would be a challenge in any city but in Venice, by water … mon Dieu! Peter had been saying he was determined to get to our hotel using the Vaporetti, which are water-buses. He left me with the bags while he queued up to buy a two day pass for these boats. By the time he returned, I had been watching the crowded buses coming and going and knew there was no way we were going to be able to board with out great efforts and embarrassment. I'd seen two men walking the platform with jackets that read "PORTER SERVICE". I begged Peter to talk to them and he finally agreed. I thought they would have helped us carry the bags to a taxi and give us some advice, but instead they said they would carry our luggage to their boat, drive us to a canal near our hotel, and walk us (and our luggage) to the front door - all for 50 Euro. Peter agreed and we were off.

Boats in the Canals of Venice

Our vehicle was a long motor boat with very high sides. The driver was masterful at turning corners and passing all of the gondolas that clogged the canals. I am amazed that not one boat touched another. Venice is beautiful and so unique, it's hard to grasp that this is real and not something Disney created for Epcot. When we got off the boat, the lads led us through the alley ways to one hotel which was not ours, but with no apparent frustration they got the correct address, corrected their course and led us to Locando al Leon on the Campo St Filippo e Giacomo in Castello not far from the Piazza San Marco. We were told our room was on the 2nd floor which translates to the 3rd floor as the ground floor here is considered 0. The stairs are long, shallow, and steep, and we quickly appreciated that "free luggage service to your room upon both check-in and check-out" is part of the package here.

We unpacked completely and then set out to find a source of ice for Peter and dinner for both of us. A bar at the corner provided the former and a trattoria around the corner provided the latter. Peter had pasta with onions and anchovies for dinner and I had grilled prawns (which were divine) and a mixed salad. By the time we halled ourselves up stairs to our room over looking the Campo it was around 9:30 p.m. and we were both exhausted. We felt good that we'd made it but both pray there's never another day like this one. Sleep was welcomed around 11:00 p.m. drifting off to the sounds of Venice floating in the windows.

The Grand Canal in Venice

Ciao!

Peter in Piazza San Marco

The crowds are amazing here in the Piazza San Marco. This is a pictire I took of Peter, can you find him?

 

Images From the Train through the Austrian Alps

Lake Zurich from the Train

A challenge it was, but we were up to it ... who wouldn't be ... a train trip through the Alps from Zurich, Switzerland to Salzburg, Austria. Lakes, mountains, meadows and snow drifts - all from the comfort of our seats. THIS is why we flew in to Zurich ... so we could take the train through these magnificent mountains. Five hours on the train "flew" by and these images are indicative of what we saw.

 

 

 

 

Cafe Sacher

Sinful Sacher torte in Salzburg, Austria.

Sent from my iPhone

Claudia Danforth Ward

Blue Hour in Zurich

Zimmat River at Blue Hour - Zurich

Peter and I are on another adventure to celebrate two significant birthdays this year (one for him and one for me), and we're going to share "postcards" with you along the way. 

View from Our Balcony in Zurich

First stop Zurich, Switzerland. It's been a beautiful, warm and sunny spring day here and, as usual, the first thing we did was get out on the water. Lake Zurich is hugh with Zurich at the north end and the snow capped mountains to the south, and the fresh air banished any remaining cobwebs we may have had after the eight hour flight over. The last time I was here (on business in the early 80s) it was winter and bitterly cold. This time every thing is lush green and the warm spring air is ever so welcoming.

Lake Zurich © 2012 Claudia Ward

After an hour and a half boat ride, we ambled into the old town and found a lovely restaurant called Swiss Chuchi at the Hotel Adler where we enjoyed cheese fondue and white wine on the cobblestones under the darkening evening sky. Everyone was out enjoying the evening air and each other. Zurich strikes us as a very friendly and happy city.

Zimmat River Zurich © 2012 Claudia Ward

The walk back to our hotel on the other side of the Limmat River was spectacular. There was no breeze to speak of and the river was the perfect reflecting mirror for this beautiful city and we were lucky to be able to capture a few images in the blue hour. Tomorrow we take our tripods - this is just too good to miss, although resting our cameras on the concrete walls that run along the river seemed to do the job.

Zimmat River After Dusk - Zurich, Switzerland

 

Open Window's Second Year

It's official, Open-Window is now two years old. I can hardly believe I began this blog on a cold January day, sitting at the island in my kitchen, 730 days ago. In the past two years, Open-Window has focused my days on creating stories, snippits, and photographs that I hoped you would find entertaining, sometimes informative, and maybe even amusing. We've covered a lot of ground and many diverse topics over this time ranging from Hawaii to Paris, Hamburger Relish to Caviar, Horse Racing to Airshow Acrobatics. As time has passed, we increasingly focused on the images and slide shows that would accompany a post, and have worked diligently to improve the quality of all that we delivered. Peter has continued to emphasize wide-angle HDR (high dynamic range) photography whether on his DSLR (digital single lens reflex-camera) or his, ever-handy, iPhone, and I have continued with my love of all-things-macro, although we each dabbled in the other's specialty just to keep it interesting.

Mexican Train Tiles and Turtles
Photo © 2011 Claudia Ward 

Over the past twenty four months, we've made 388 postings to Open-Window which is an average of almost 4 per week, nearly every one containing at least one photograph and 60 of which included a slide show with music. When we embarked on this endeavor, we expected to focus on travel, food and photography. As it's turned out, the focus has been just that ... but in reverse - photography, food and travel. See, we'll photograph nearly anything - food that we eat, games that we play, children at the beach, machines of any sort, flowers and their residents, landmarks and landscapes, moon-rises and sunsets, and even light itself. 

The Outer Banks of North Caroline
Photo © 2011 Claudia Ward taken with the iPhone using the Pro HDR App

This year has been quite a journey photographically as well as geographically. Peter and I traveled over 14, 500 miles. We drove the entire east coast from the east end of Long Island to Orlando, Florida, traversing Florida, and turning north to reach Memphis Tennessee. We crossed the states of Tennessee and North Carolina end-to-end (west to east), photographing some of this country's most beautiful scenery in the Great Smoky Mountains. When we reached the Atlantic Ocean, it felt like we'd returned home, for tidal waters are in our veins, and the days on the Outer Banks are now cherished memories. Early morning sunrises over the ocean, wild horses on the beaches, hang gliding from the dunes, and fish tacos are just a few of the things we captured in-frame. With tornadoes nipping at our heels from western Florida, to Memphis and eventually to eastern North Carolina, we headed home just hours before their destruction hit the locales we'd come to know and love. Atlantic City was our refuge from the storms, before returning to the calm, untouched East End.

Spanish Mustang on the Outer Banks
Photo © 2011 Claudia Ward

Thirty days and thirty nights, and 4,000 miles on the road gave us a tremendous, renewed appreciation for the beauty and diversity of this country we live in. A couple of hundred more miles were covered seeking out horses at Saratoga Springs in August. For one who isn't known as an animal lover, I do love photographing them. Whether in their stance or stride, they speak volumes to me and hopefully that is being captured by the lens. Finally, the balance of those miles (nearly 10,000) were accomplished by a trip to The Big Island of Hawaii, where we were able to photograph the incredible diversity of this island's landscape and all of its beauty from a helicopter. 

Antique Hood Ornament
Photo © 2011 Claudia Ward 

More locally, we visited Belmont Park just a week before the Stakes were run and attended the Hampton Classic Horse Show every single day it was held over Labor Day weekend. There were at least three Antique Auto Shows, one Road Rallye and a Mini Cooper Scavenger Hunt that we shot as well. Our beaches on the east end of Long Island are some of the most breathtaking in the country (right up there with North Carolina's) and we spent many happy hours either hip deep in snow in January or ankle deep in sand in August, capturing the undulating shapes of their dunes draped in snow or the power of their seas after a storm.

Light Painting for New Year's
Photo © 2011 Peter Tooker 

The holidays that dot our calendars were also not ignored. Memorial Day is always an homage to the "Opening" of the Hamptons season. Flag Day, the 4th of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving and the Christmas season were all duly noted and celebrated with photographs too.   

Meaty Tomato painted by Barbara Andolsek

Let me also add, ever so humbly, that I have once again been thrilled that Barbara Andolsek continues to make paintings based on some of my photographs. Barbara and I have yet to meet but feel a friendship beyond pen-pals. Nearly 3,000 miles apart but with a shared appreciation for the beauty of the world around us, Barbara and I have forged a friendship that could only occur in this wonderful 21st century. It still astounds me at how incredibly open and selfless so many people are using the internet to connect, communicate, and share. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be a part of it.

The word "blog" is derived from the expression "web log", which originally was an online journal of sorts and has morphed, over time, into a platform for communicating and exchanging information and ideas. I want to thank you all for your enthusiasm and support over the last two years but more importantly for your participation - "communication and exchange" are exactly what has occurred when you've left comments for us, and you've made it just that much more fun and interesting.

So here is a slide show which represents a snapshot of Open-Window's second year. It's shorter than last year's and yet still longer than most at just under 10 minutes. Perhaps you can set aside a little time next Sunday morning. We've made this for you, to enjoy and remember a year that we shared, and for that I want to say with great sincerity "Thanks for the memories". 

  

Photos & Slide Show by Claudia Ward & Peter Tooker © 2011
Music: Concerto in E-flat Major for Trumpet & Orchestra: 1. Allegro Con Spirito by Wynton Marsalis, National Philharmonic Orchestra & Raymond Leppard 

 

P.S. Please feel free to leave a comment and let us know what you thought of year two and if there is something you'd like to see more of in the coming months.

 

 

The Big Island of Hawaii

The Big Island of Hawaii has every kind of terrain there is on the continental United States, and that was a surprise.

 ✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄✄

We landed on the west side of the island, on the Kohala coast, where we would be staying for the next five days and were quite surprised by the desolate volcanic desert that surrounded the airport. This was just our introduction to the diverse terrains of the big island. On this, the largest of the Hawaiian islands, there are deserts, rain forests, volcanoes, farm land and cattle ranches, small island-cities, and tropical beaches of every color - white, black, and green.

To see the Big Island, you either drive around it or fly over it, and Peter and I were lucky enough to do both, safely. On the ground, we saw desert that could have been in New Mexico, ranches that belonged in Texas, tropical shorelines that could have been in Florida, and rain forests that could be in Washington-state. From the air, we saw volcanoes that could be in Oregon, farm land that could have been in the western plain states, and dramatic coastline that could rival the east or west coast of the mainland. It's remarkable and unique.

Hawai'i, created by volcanoes, occupies just over 4,000 square miles of the Pacific Ocean, and continues to expand with their lava flows pouring in to the ocean. The two you notice the most on the island are Mauna Kea (White Mountain, because it gets a snow cap in the winter), and Mauna Loa (Long Mountain, because it is long and low). Mauna Kea is dormant and Maunea Loa is still active.

Despite cautionary concerns from friends, we booked a two hour flight on Blue Hawaiian helicopter tours at 7:00 a.m. one morning, flying out of Waikoloa, on the north west coast of the island. The route we took was southeast over the desert, flying past Mauna Loa, toward Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park.

In this flight path, we skirted the base of Mauna Loa in the stark bright sunlight of early morning, and then dipped under the clouds and smoke that hover over the lava fields which were once a rich landscape with over 200 homes. As we circled over the lava fields, it was amazing to see this molten matter in so many different stages of its existence. Our pilot explained that there are two main types of lava both of which we could see from the air. Pahoehoe (pa-hoy-hoy) is smooth and dense and flows like molasses. A'a (ah-ah) lava forms porous, jagged, light-weight rocks that tumble over and pile up on each other.

To see the earth with this much natural, creative - yet violent - energy was fascinating, but as we flew further north the slate gray lava fields gave way to lush green farmland surrounding the city of Hilo, and then the cliffs of the Hamakua coast. As we entered the valleys near the northern tip of the island, places you can't get to except by flight, it was amazing and nerve-racking to fly towards the walls of these mountains.

We saw hidden waterfalls and land untrodden by man - then turning on a dime our helicopter climbed westward to the crest of the mountains. It was here that we saw the extreme contrasts in this island's terrains. Behind us was the green lushness of the steep valleys falling to the ocean behind us with its black sand beaches, and ahead of us was expansive, dry ranch land spreading west toward the white sand beaches of the island's tropical resorts. It was like the two sides of that drama mask.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We enjoyed seeing the island and are so happy that we saw it from the air too. We told ourselves this would be "a once in a lifetime" experience - and it was. Sadly, a Blue Hawaiian helicopter crashed two weeks after our flight, and that has probably convinced us to remain on terra firma in the future, but "thanks for the memories" Blue Hawaiian, and these wonderful photographs.

Enjoy the slide show. Note: When you see the photograph of the helicopter "head on" you'll be able to see where we sat. We were in the front with the pilot. Noah, the pilot was on the left, I was in the middle and Peter was on the right ... the best seats in the house with windows everywhere!

 

Photos and Slide Show © 2011 Claudia Ward, All Rights Reserved 
Music: Hawaiian Jazz by the Hawaiian Music Party Squad 

If you're interested, and I hope you will be, check out Peter's video of the helicopter ride on the Big Island of Hawaii.

 

 

 

Hawaiian Volcano

These are my two favorite "Volcano" images captured from a helicopter that we took to see the Big Island of Hawaii from the air.

Photograph ©2011 Claudia Ward All Rights Reserved

The volcanic gases pouring forth into the atmosphere seemed so ominous and forboding, and the patterns in the hardening lava suggested continued motion for some time to come. 

Photograph © 2011 Claudia Ward All Rights Reserved

Let me know what you think.

 

iPhone Photos from 10,000 Feet Plus

iPhone Photo from 10,000 feet - Mauna Kea on Hawaii

The iPhone 4 has an incredible camera in it. I dismissed it for the longest time as a toy until we went on a 30 day road trip last spring and then it became a working participant in my small arsenal of cameras. Recently, Peter and I flew nearly the entire breadth of the United States, from New York City to Kona on the Big Island of Hawaii, stopping in Seattle each way. These are long flights and what do you do on airplanes these days, when everything on board is mediocre and expensive? Answer: Look out the window. Just look at what I saw Flying High Above the Clouds.

 iPhone photos & slide show ©2011 Claudia Ward
Music: "Le Matelot Club" from the soundtrack of Victor/Victoria

The apps I used to take these images included the Camera app that came with the iPhone 4, Camera+, and HDR Pro, however, few of the images taken with the latter app survived because it still detected and showed movement. I'm thrilled with the quality of the images from the other two apps which were only straightened and sharpened in Adobe Photoshop Elements later. You'll see that I've included some images in the slide show that I might not show standing on their own because of the graininess, but they help advance the story of a setting or rising sun, so they're here. There are points at dusk and dawn when the light is not sufficient enough to overcome the graininess ... but, usually in those circumstances I'd have my DSLR on a tripod, just not this time at 34,000 feet in a 767.

Remember, to see the best quality slide show, click on the HD and then the words highlighted in blue "watch this video in High Definition". You'll be taken to Vimeo, where this slide show resides, click on the play arrow, and enjoy. Thanks.

Hapuna Beach on Hawaii

 

Hapuna Beach on Hawaii © 2011 Claudia Ward

Hapuna Beach on the Kohala Coast of the Big Island of Hawaii is a long stretch of pristine white sand framed to the north and the south by dark lava reefs. The tropical blue waters are warm enough for a long swim and yet cool enough to be refreshing but not cold. The clean waters permit snorkeling and the shallow surf provides for some fun rides for the younger boogie boarders on the beach. As the center of the Hapuna Beach State Recreational Park, the beach is easily accessible. It also has free parking, rest rooms and showers, a snack bar, and beach chairs and umbrellas for rent.

We spent two lazy days walking the beach from end to end, bobbing in the water basking in the beauty all around us. Mauna Kea, the often snow capped mountain on the island, overlooks this beautiful beach, and could be seen or perceived below, behind, or in the clouds, depending on how the wind would blow. The western part of Hawaii is largely desert in nature, and is the only side of the island that has these beautiful white sand beaches - delightful treasures nestled in along the coast.

Enjoy the slide show. If you want to see it in HD, and I recommend you do (the quality is so much better and is what I shot), click on the HD in the lower right corner and it will tell you that you can "watch this video in High Definition on Vimeo". Click on those words and you'll be taken to Vimeo where you simply click on the play button to see it in HD.

 

Photos and Slide Show © Claudia Ward
Music: Wood Wind by the Henry Paul Band 

 Wish you were there?

 

Birds in Hawaii

Day two of our trip seemed to be all about the birds.

Exotic Crowned Bird   

Common Myna Bird

House Sparrow

House Finch Waiting Impatiently

House Finch Enjoying Our Leftovers

Exotic Hawaiian Bird "Hooked" On Himself

Hawaiian Parrot

Preview of coming attractions: We took a two hour helicopter ride around the Big Island of Hawaii. What an experience that was! 

 

Hawaii - Day One

The big island of Hawaii is where we are and we're thoroughly enjoying all it's treasures and its diversity. It's history is rich, its resources seem boundless, and its beauty speaks for itself. Here's a sampling of what we saw on our first day on the island of Hawaii.

Pu`uhonua o Honaunau National Historical Park, the City of Refuge on Hawaii

The City of Refuge - Hawaii

Statues in Hawaii's City of Refuge 

Hawaiian Butts

Local Fisherman on the Big Island of Hawaii

Honu - The Green Sea Turtle - Hawaii

Sunset at Kahalu'u Beach Park - Hawaii

 

34,000 Feet Over the Pacific

On our way to Hawaii.

Sent from my iPhone

Chatham Band Concerts

"Chatham Band" Watercolor by Debbie Hearle 

Every Friday evening between July 4th and Labor Day you will find the town of Chatham, on Cape Cod, chockablock full of people, all ambling toward Kate Gould Park in the center of town for the 8:00p.m. start of the Band Concert. This truly is a page lifted from Norman Rockwell's America and is a much cherished tradition of locals and tourists alike. In the center of the park is a real band stand, like the kind you remember from The Music Man.

When I was growing up in Chatham, Whit Tileston was the band leader, in addition to being the middle school music teacher. Every 4th of July, the parade down Main Street was always started with Chatham's Marching Band. Mr. Tileston, dressed in white from head to toe and decorated with gold braid, led the band who were all decked out in neatly pressed bright red jackets with navy lapels, pockets and cuffs, navy trousers with a red stripe down the side, and navy, red and gold caps. We welled with pride when we saw the band crest the hill at the edge of town, with Mr. Tileston tilting his tall white hat to the crowds and moving his gold baton to lead the music. We all knew the summer had just begun.

Chatham Band Stand in Kate Gould Park

So on Friday nights, we would pack blankets and sweaters in a sailbag and head to the park. A big decision had to be made at the entrance to the park. We each had a quarter held tightly in our fist which we were told we could spend on anything we wanted. My decision always fell between a big cloud of pink cotton candy attached to a paper cone or a brightly colored helium balloon which would be tied off on my wrist for the rest of the night. Believe it or not, the balloon usually won.

Early in the summer the sun was just setting as we got to the park, so twilight lit the path we traversed behind the band stand to get to "our place" on the far hill. The anticipation in the air was palpable and the only relief for it was Mr. Tileston's enthusiastic and familiar "Hi-de-ho!". For the first hour, the band played lively music and folk dances for the kids. We all have lasting memories of doing the "Bunny Hop" and "Here We Go Loopty Loo" around the band stand on those warm summer nights. For the last hour, the band played dance music for grownups, and sentimental sing-alongs. When we were old enough to stay for the second half of the concert, we were thrilled when Dad joined us after closing the store. One by one he would ask us to dance, with the younger ones usually doing so standing on top of his feet. Exhilarated and exhausted, we'd leave just before the concert's end, stumbling over the roots on the path behind the band stand and dragging our blankets behind us. As we exited the park, we could hear in the distance the lilting melody and soft sounds of voices singing Old Cape Cod. (Note: Click on "Old Cape Cod", to be able to download/hear Patti Page sing that song.)

 

Beach Feet

Greetings from Cape Cod!

Peter and I left town for the Cape and Islands right after I was laid off from a Wall Street bank two years ago. Well it's becoming an annual event as here we are again, visiting friends and family, eating lobster by the pound, and getting sand in our toes.

iPhone photo ©2011 Claudia Ward

Here's to all of you worker bees ... We wish for you all sand in your toes, sun on your back, and sea breezes in your hair.

The Outer Banks North Carolina a.k.a. OBX

The Outer Banks of North Carolina, affectionately known as OBX, is a long string of barrier islands off the east coast of North Carolina starting at the northeast corner of the state and covering nearly half of its northern coastline. From Bodie Island in the north to Ocracoke Island in the south, the Outer Banks have over a hundred miles of pristine beaches. In his annual ranking of the best beaches in the U.S., Dr. Beach has included a beach on the Outer Banks in each of the last ten years, most recently Cape Hatteras has been the beach chosen, but for the previous six years it was Ocracoke's Lifeguard Beach - the prettiest beach I have ever seen.

Many who visit the Outer Banks rent houses, take up residence, and relax and restore themselves in one location. Others venture forth and are rewarded with experiencing the history and charm of its varied villages. Recently, Peter and I traveled from one end of the Outer Banks to the other. In Corolla, we saw the wild Mustangs on the beach at sunset. The quaint village of Duck (yes that's the name of a village), with its infamous 25 MPH speed limit was impossible to miss, and has incredible views and sunsets over Currituck sound. The Wright Brothers National Park in Kill Devil Hills should not be missed, but if you're adventurous and want to fly on your own, you can take hang gliding lessons off the largest natural sand dune on the east coast, Jockey's Ridge in Nags Head. Peter and I climbed the dune and photographed those adventurous souls one breezy afternoon. Continuing south, you drive cross the Oregon Inlet to get to Hatteras Island. The easternmost point on the island is Cape Point, the one that gets pounded by all those hurricanes and where we found the famous Cape Hatteras Lighthouse - one of the prettiest in the country.

It's roughly 90 miles from Corolla to Hatteras and to continue south now, you have to take a ferry to Ocracoke Island, the "jewel in the crown" of the Outer Banks. The Hatteras-Ocracoke Ferry is free, departs every half hour, and carries cars as well as passengers. As beautiful as the northern islands are, Ocracoke was the one that stole my heart. The sands of the beaches are fine and white, the dunes are wide and traversed by elevated boardwalks, and the waters are gloriously clean. A single "highway" leading to Ocracoke village is bordered by dunes on both sides. On the way in to town, we found Howard's Pub on the right. A novelty, without a doubt created for the tourists, but one with great seafood and a roof deck with views across the dunes to either shore.

The village of Ocracoke is unpretentious and was once home to Edward Teach. "Who is that?" you ask. Well the pirate Blackbeard, of course, and this is where he was killed. The center of Ocracoke is Silver Lake where ferries to Swan Quarter and Cedar Island will get you "on or close" to the mainland once again. (These ferries, which are over two hours in length, require reservations, carry cars, and do charge a fee.) Nearby is the belle of Ocracoke, towering over the village and it's shore, the all-white Ocracoke Lighthouse can be seen near and far, and has been operating since 1823. The rewards are many if you travel the length of the Outer Banks and Peter and I can't wait to return.

  ©2011 Photos and Slide Show by Claudia Ward
Music: Vianne Confronts the Comte, by Rachel Portman from the Soundtrack of "Chocolat" 

 

This one's for you Carl!

 

Gracehill Bed & Breakfast in The Smokies

High atop Little Round Top in the Great Smoky Mountains in eastern Tennessee is a magical place called Gracehill. It's a Bed & Breakfast that is elegant in all of its appointments and breathtaking in its location. This three story building was built with as much care and attention to detail as Kathy, the Innkeeper, gives to her table settings and gardens. Each level of the house affords her guests with the opportunity to gaze out over the valley to the mountains beyond. Sunrise is peaceful and slowly turns the mountains a pale pink before the sun crests the mountains to the east. Clouds hug the valley below and the feeling you get from being above the clouds is heavenly. Every bedroom is decorated luxuriously with artifacts, antiques and art that can't help but fascinate Gracehill's guests. The gardens around the house blend beautifully into the forests beyond and are accented with stunning stonework, relaxing fountains, and are constructed to bloom throughout the spring, summer, and fall. Despite having come to the Smokies to explore, a guest at Gracehill doesn't want to leave given its comfort and beauty.

Breakfast is a very special event and Kathy excels at it's presentation. A different china pattern and place setting is used everyday, each one striking and unique. Depending on the season, breakfast could be served in front of the fire in the kitchen, in the splendid dining room, or, in warm weather, out on the veranda. Kathy greets you with a good cup of coffee and juice, introduces guests to one another, and then presents the first course which is usually a cooked fruit dish, like poached pears or baked apples filled with cinnamon and nuts. The second, and last course, is typically an egg dish like baked eggs with peppers and sausage, or an egg enchilada. It's all delicious but you will want to hike the hills afterwards.

Our favorite time of day at Gracehill was sunset. All of the verandas face west so you can't miss this astounding daily event. Whether the mountains and valley are wrapped in clouds creating a dusk of blue hues, the like of which you will never have seen, or the mountains and valley are dark silhouettes set against a fire orange sky, the sun setting at Gracehill is a glorious and joyful event, and you'll find yourself whispering to your companion out of reverence for the beauty that you've just witnessed.

We've done our best to convey the essence of Gracehill as we saw it in early spring. We're looking forward to returning when the mountains are green with leaves and the gardens are bursting with color.

 Photos and Slide Show ©2011 Claudia Ward & Peter Tooker
Music: Mountain Theme by Bruce Rowland from the soundtrack of The Man from Snowy River

 

The Smoky Mountains

The Great Smoky Mountains, a.k.a. The Smokies, are a sub-range of the Appalachian mountains rising along the Tennessee and North Carolina border, and are protected by the Great Smoky Mountains National Park which is visited by over 9 million tourists every year. That makes it the most visited national park in the country! Peter and I didn't know that when we added ourselves to that number this spring, but we certainly learned what the attractions are for so many. Traveling west to east, we spent the better part of five days in and around the Smokies, anchoring ourselves on top of a mountain in Townsend, TN and nestling into a valley in Asheville, NC.

Spring came late to the Smokies this year, as it has in many places across the country so the forests and plant life were just beginning to consider waking up after their winter slumber, but that didn't interfere with our enjoying the mountain air, early morning sunrise and sunsets from high atop a mountain, rushing rivers, water falls and hoofing around the coves, which in mountain-speak is a small valley between two ridge lines that is closed at one or both ends. In Townsend, we stayed at a magnificent B&B called Gracehill which is perched on top of one of the three peaks of Little Round Top. From there, we explored Cades Cove, the Middle Prong of Little River, and Roaring Fork, and came to appreciate the quiet and solitude of the mountains. In Asheville, we tucked ourselves in to the Inn on Biltmore, which is a ten year old Inn on the Biltmore Estate, technically in the Blue Ridge Mountains but bordering the Great Smokies. From the Rocking Chair porch we enjoyed the expansive view across the valley to the mountains beyond and watched the colors of both change as the sun set each night. Like so many thousands of others, we toured the estate which we found interesting and more tasteful than we'd expected but what we truly enjoyed was walking the grounds and appreciating the estate's breath-taking location.

When we were in Asheville, I spoke to a former colleague and friend, who said he was envious of us as he would love to see the Smokies someday. Well, John this slide show is for you - previews of coming attractions - something to whet your appetite before you get in your car to see more, first hand.

 Photos and Slide Show by Claudia Ward
Music: Whiskey Before Breakfast by Bobby Horton

Safe travels.

 

Wild Horses in Corolla, NC

Beyond this point, ... there be horses! 

When you've driven as far north on Route 12 on the Outer Banks of North Carolina as you can - when the tarmac ends ... the beach becomes an extension of Route 12. Beyond this point there are some houses, but more importantly there are horses, wild horses, and this is their sanctuary - here they have the right of way!

These horses are descendant, by most accounts, from the Spanish mustangs that swam here from shipwrecks in the 16th century, were offloaded from vessels that ran aground, or were abandonned by Spanish settlers who fled from the Indians. Today the herd numbers around 110 horses and they are proudly protected by the Corolla Wild Horse Fund and its supporters. You can see the horses by renting a four-wheel-drive vehicle, joining a commercial tour, or by joining the herd manager on a four hour trip. Peter and I considered the list of commercial providers and decided upon W.H.A.T., Wild Horse Adventure Tours for a sunset tour.

It was late on a brisk spring day, when we met up with Dave Barker and his door-less jeep in the parking lot of WHAT. He couldn't have been friendlier and he's obviously enjoying this employment in retirement. Peter and I were the only two on this tour, so Dave made sure we were lined up well for photographing the horses. We agreed later that this trip would have been worth just the drive along the beach with the ocean on one side and the dunes the other. It was breathtaking, especially with no doors, but soon after we left the tarmac we came upon two horses, one with a star on its forehead, grazing along the dunes. Dave explained that they were mother and son (mare and colt is the proper way to say that), and the colt was just one year old. Dave seemed to know the story of every horse we saw which added color and dimension to each herd's tales.

Dave drove us over "hill and dale". We found a beautiful "blond" herd grazing in someone's yard, a black stallion's herd with a pregnant mare drinking fresh water from the small pools left by recent storms, and we looked long and hard to see the new foul that had been born just the week before, but to no avail. 

The sun was completely down by the time we returned to the beach for the trip back to our car. The night was pitch black and we could only see the small stretch of beach illuminated ahead of us by our headlights and the white foam of the crashing waves at the shoreline. Wind was whistling through the jeep now and Dave kindly put the doors back on to keep the cold out. In the car on the way back to our Nags Head hotel, Peter and I  both felt exhilerated not only by the cold night air but by the sense of having entered the world of these wild horses and having captured some of them in our photographs.

 Photos & Slide Show @2011 Claudia Ward & Peter Tooker

Music: Little Martha, by Leo Kottke on Leo Kottke: Instrumentals - The Best of the Chrysalis Years

Travel Tip: Celebrate Your Seniority

I'm sure many of you think AARP (American Association of Retired People) is simply an advocacy group for people over 50, and some of you recognize it as a really big insurance company and none of you would be wrong, but what we've learned is that AARP membership can give you valuable travel discounts too.

We're celebrating our seniority getting discounts on hotels on our road trip. Hampton, LaQuinta, Wyndham, and Starwood are just some of the hotels that give discounts to AARP members, and since we earn travel points with Starwood, we're paying less and earning more - what a way to travel! There are lots of other travel discounts, just check out the AARP website. The only hitch is you do have to acknowledge your age to get the discounts.

Celebrate your seniority, you've earned it!

Dawn at the Outer Banks

Dawn is my favorite time of day. I always find first light thrilling, I don't know why - perhaps it's the optimist in me ... what will a new day bring? But first there's sunrise which is ever so brief and beautiful.

We're overlooking the ocean, sleeping to the sounds of its constant motion, and waking to the drama of the sun rising from the ocean. The coast of the Outer Banks of North Carolina are picturesque, and Peter and I find the changing early morning light magical.

Sunrise

Dawn at the Outer Banks.

Sent from my iPhone

Ocracoke Island, NC

We've stumbled upon this island gem at the southern end of the Outer Banks and Peter found this wonderful hotel over looking Silver Lake in Ocracoke Village. Captain's Landing hotel is on the right and our room was on the second floor. We fell asleep listening to the waves lapping the pier all evening and awoke to the gulls greeting the day. This is spectacular in all it's natural beauty and it feels like home.

iPhone HDR photo by Claudia Ward

Sent from my iPhone

Butterfly

When Peter was photographing the rivers Roaring Fork Tennessee, he made lots of new friends, in the winged category. These tiny butterflies flocked to him and alighted upon his hands, his shoulders and even his mustache - I wish I'd gotten a picture of that!

Photo ©2011 Claudia Ward

Inn on Biltmore Estate

Good evening from the rocking chair veranda at the Inn on Biltmore Estate, in Asheville, North Carolina, where Peter and I enjoyed a cocktail and a light supper in our wicker rocking chairs watching the sun descend behind the mountains.

HDR iPhone photo © 2011 Claudia Ward

Gracehill Bed and Breakfast

Good morning from Gracehill Bed and Breakfast in Townsend, Tennessee amidst the Great Smokies, looking down on the valley shrouded in clouds. This is a place of peace and beauty unlike any we've seen before. 

HDR iPhone photo © 2011 Claudia Ward

Book mark this, it's a keeper! More later.

Corky's in Memphis

Corky's, in Memphis, has been rated #1 for barbecue for the last two decades. Celebrating over 25 years in its original location at 5259 Poplar Avenue, Corky's is an institution in East Memphis. The restaurant is unpretentious with old barn wood walls, lots of polished brass, aged brick, and music from the '50's and '60's.
As novel as the restaurant is, it's the food that takes center stage. Slabs of barbecue ribs, either their signature dry rubbed or our favorite, wet, slathered with lots of delicious BBQ sauce are the primary attraction. Just the aroma of them when you enter the restaurant makes your mouth water.

When you first arrive, the waitron delivers a basket of irresitable warm rolls that have been brushed with garlic oil and the test of will power begins. Can you eat just one? We ordered a slab of each of their ribs along with their incredible pulled pork, and these were accompanied by cole slaw, potato salad and the best baked beans I've ever had. Corky's beer was the libation of the day, which is a local beer served in ice cold beer mugs. It's a feast and there always seems to be just that much more food than you can eat in one seating, so they kindly provide take out boxes for you to pack with anything and everything you want to take home for a snack later. Corky's is definitely deserving of their #1 ranking and it's worth going out of your way to eat here. In fact, I've known people who needed to go to Little Rock, Arkansas for business, who flew in to Memphis, just to eat at Corky's, and then they drove to Little Rock with a satisfied tummy. What a treat!

Brunch

Brunch on the shores of the mighty, muddy Mississippi. Catfish in the sun with a spicy Bloody Mary at Tug's in Harbor Town, Memphis, TN.

Photo ©2011 Peter Tooker. HDR photo taken on an iPhone.

 Sent from my iPhone

Stormy Florida

Hunkered down in St. Pete Beach, FL as tornados, torrential rains, 50 mile an hour winds, and hail are all around us. Decided to stay off the roads. Sadly, they're reporting that this same cold front will produce significant snow for the northeast. Chin up friends.

Look ... aren't we lucky, we have a room with a view!

HDR photo taken with an iPhone by Claudia Ward

This post was Sent from my iPhone.

Greetings

From sunny, but soon to be stormy, St. Petersburg, FL. This is for all of our friends in the nippy northeast. Warm weather will come.

Travel Tip: MotionX-GPS Drive

Here's a tip for anyone who might be embarking on a road trip and doesn't want to be leafing through the atlas of maps while you're underway. Download the MotionX-GPS Drive app to your iPhone or iPad. It's incredible. We've come to like ours so much, we've named her Penelope (the planner) and she's guided us through cities and the country without a hitch. MotionX also allows you to use the app for free for 30 days (which just happens to be the length of our trip), which really lets you get to know all of her features.

/MotionX will talk to you and tell you "where to go", she'll list out her instructions for those who still rely upon the written word, and she'll show you exactly where you are and where you're going on an active 3D map at any point in time. She'll tell you how much longer you have before reaching your destination, in miles and estimated time. She'll tell you where the nearest gas station, coffee shop, and/or hotel is. She'll correct the driving instructions if you take a wrong turn, and she'll even tell you your altitude, longitude and latitude. Big brother may not be watching but Penelope/MotionX is, and we've come to rely on her to keep us on the right highways and byways. 

 

Bluffton, South Carolina

Sunset and low tide in lowcountry - beautiful Bluffton South Carolina.

Peter Tooker © 2011 HDR Photo taken with an iPhone Camera

Amen Street

There was once a street in Charleston called Amen Street, named, they say, because "amens" could often be heard there from two nearby churches. The street has since been absorbed into Cumberland Street, but a restaurant at the corner of Cumberland and East Bay Streets has resurrected the name - the Amen Street Fish and Raw Bar. 

After enjoying the sea breezes on a midday harbor tour, Peter and I had a hankering for some raw oysters and happily stumbled upon Amen Street on our way to pick up a carriage ride. The menu outside was enticing and the bar was warm and welcoming, so we found two seats and introduced ourselves to the bartendress, Rae. She couldn't have been friendlier and was well informed about the differences between all of the oysters.

We each started with something I'd never had before, an oyster shooter, which is a single oyster in a shot glass swimming in tomato juice, spiked with vodka and lemon juice with a dollop of homemade horseradish - wow what a sensory experience that was - spicy, hot and sweet all at the same time.

Peter and I didn't know it but oysters are a local specialty, and the ones from Capers Island, just north of Charleston, are now our favorites. They are long and thin, with medium brine and a slightly sweet finish. Rae explained that She Crab Soup is also a local delicacy, a description we agreed with the minute that velvety soup touched our lips. It's truly a little bit of heaven.
We finished here with an Oyster Po'Boy and a local draft beer for Peter, and Blackened Salmon with a wonderful Rodney Strong chardonnay for me. We thoroughly enjoyed the food and the casual atmosphere of this restaurant and hope to be back someday soon. Amen to that.

Good Morning from Charleston SC

It's a beautiful morning in Charleston. Expecting to get up to 80, oh my!

Sent from my iPhone

Restaurant 3 - Arlington, VA

Bacon Paradise was the name of the program on The Travel Channel that introduced us to Restaurant 3 in Arlington Virginia. We were taken not only by the topic - because who doesn't like bacon - but also by the restaurant itself. The entire restaurant was developed around the 1909 Brunswick-Balke-Collender bar that the owner, Greg Cahill, found in Russell, Kansas. This beautiful bar is huge and is also one piece, but most importantly it's comfortable. So Peter and I saddled up to the bar late last night after driving over 300 miles to get here. We were not disappointed.

We were greeted by May, our bartender/server, who couldn't have been nicer. Our first order was for a Bacon Vodka Martini - to relax us after our long drive! They make their own bacon vodka here, which is best tasted room temperature and neat so the flavor really comes through, although I will say we found our chilled martinis very tasty. After that, we just had to try their Bacon on a Stick - four large pieces of bacon are each twisted around a skewer and served on a platter drizzled with maple syrup. Napkins are required, but who cares, everyone makes you feel right at home, which is where finger food is allowed, right?

Decisions were getting more and more difficult, so we narrowed our scope to just the appetizers, rationalizing that these portions would be smaller and thus we could sample more. Not! We had to choose between Bleu Cheese Chips (with home-cured bacon), Southern Fried Oysters, Fried Green Tomatoes, Tuna Lollipops, Lettuce Wraps of Slow Roasted Duck with Bourbon Molasses, or Smoked and Grilled Savannah Wings. We chose the last two. Lettuce Wraps is a sizeable portion of shredded duck meat with assorted accompaniments and a delicious mustard sauce, all of which you roll up in a large lettuce leaf to eat. The Savannah Wings were some of the best (and the hottest), we've ever had - smokey, crisp and hot - what's not to like about that? 

We were having such a great time. We chatted with May about our trip to get here, where we are from, where we are going and how we'd heard about the restaurant. She must have enjoyed our story because she got the chef and the owner to come out and greet us. And just as we were about to ask for the check, their famous Bacon Studded Waffle with Maple Bacon Ice Cream arrived, "compliments of the chef". Mon Dieu! This was heavenly if not over-the-top.

Restaurant 3 is a delightful experience and it does have many things on the menu that are not laden with bacon. If you're in the D.C./Arlington area, head over to 2950 Clarendon Boulevard, we know you won't be disappointed.

 

Half Moon Over Toronto

When Peter and I were recently "stranded" in Toronto, we had a spectacular sunset the first evening we were there - deep red cumulus clouds set against a midnight blue sky. We thought of that as our payback for all the hassles of the day. But, little did we know, the best was yet to come.

The moon rose so clearly in the pitch-black sky that evening, and we watched it traverse the nighttime sky until dawn (which was possible given our jet lag). Naturally Peter, set up a tripod and camera to see if he could capture the moon, that had been so elusive during the recent lunar eclipse and look what he got!

Half Moon Over Toronto ©2010 Peter Tooker; 1/40s at f 6.3 ISO 200 624mm

I couldn't believe my eyes when he showed me this photograph and the detail that it reveals - even the craters are clear! Now this, in my estimation, made the lay-over in Toronto, all worthwhile. Would you agree? 

Travel Journal Addendum December 27-30, 2010 Toronto, Canada

We bid our final adieu to Paris in the pre-dawn hours of Monday, the 27th of December. The Paris Shuttle collected us around 7:30 a.m. for our 11:30 a.m. Air Canada flight to Toronto, where we would transfer to a connecting flight to New York's Laguardia Airport. The flight was going to take 8½ hours and Peter and I were thrilled to see the video screens working at our seats this time. We'd heard about the blizzard that was hitting New York and much of the east coast, but the snow was expected to stop around 1:00 p.m. according to the last report we'd heard, so we expected that that would leave ample time for the airport to clear the runways and be operational for our 4:30 p.m. arrival and subsequent 6:30 p.m. departure. NOT! Everything to New York was cancelled. The airports were a mess and the cancellation of all flights was having its domino affect i.e. people and planes were not in the right places, and they wouldn't be in sync again for days to come.

Air Canada was very good at communicating with its strandees. Once we collected our luggage and cleared customs, they had a special place just for us on the first floor. The cue probably had 30 people in it when we joined it, and the agents kept it moving. We made it to the front of the line in less than an hour. Checking the flight schedules, the agent gingerly told us that the first flight they could get us on to get us to New York was Thursday night at 6:00 p.m. It was now 2:00 p.m. on Monday. Oh my! The airline would pay for two nights of hotels, give us a total of $65 a day for the two of us toward food, and would cover the shuttle to and from the Comfort Inn, which is where they found us accommodations.

We donned the attitude that this would be, yet again, another adventure. Our room was perfectly comfortable and clean, and the staff were very helpful and friendly. Toronto put on quite a display on our first night, with a brilliant sunset during which deep red cumulus clouds set themselves against a midnight blue sky. We went down to the dining room for dinner and found our unexpected-selves in the middle of a party. The group was gathered primarily around the bar, but they had music which was really quite good. There were two musicians, one who could and did play nearly every type of wind instrument - the sax, the flute, the clarinet and the trumpet - and the other, who played the keyboard, sang and sounded like several well-known entertainers - Willy Nelson, Johnny Cash and our personal favorite, Louis Armstrong. We counted ourselves lucky - it could have been a Tony Orlando and Dawn kind of event!

The next day we were required to return to the airport to obtain room and food vouchers for our second 24 hours in Toronto. Over coffee in the morning, Peter and I planned to go downtown to go to the top of the CN Tower to photograph the city and then Peter wanted to rent a car and go down to Niagara Falls to shoot there too.

At the airport they provide our needed vouchers and were able to move our flight up to one at 8:15 a.m. - a big improvement over 6:00 p.m. We returned to the hotel, went directly to lunch, after which I went directly to bed. I'd woken that morning feeling kind of funky and thinking I was coming down with a cold, but now, a stomach flu took hold and didn't let go for the next twelve hours. Needless to say, we didn't make it to Toronto that day.

By the next morning, the fever had broken and I felt good enough for breakfast, after which we decided we would head down to The Falls. Peter had heard that the sun was meant to break through by noon and was anxious to see what HDR photography could do with the falls.

It took an hour and a half to get to Niagara Falls, and we didn't see one indication that the sun would shine any time soon. We parked just across the street from the falls, assembled our equipment and set off to photograph what we could see, even if it was all gray - gray water, gray sky, and gray mist.

Now about that mist. They have signs along the sidewalk that announce "Freezing Mist" but that doesn't really prepare you for it's affects. On camera equipment, it's like putting it in an ice cold shower. We pulled out the rainsleeves we have for our cameras to keep them as dry as we could, but the challenge was clearing the lenses - the air was freezing water. The affect on us, however, was even more challenging. Our hands were painfully frozen after just four photos were taken, and we were in front of the least attractive of the falls. We both had to dig deep to find the wherewithal to persevere. On our way in to Niagara Falls, I'd seen an "iceberg" just above one set of falls. To me it looked like the planet Krypton, as depicted in the Superman movie, and that was the only shot I really wanted to get. We agreed that we'd walk in that direction, but would turn back if it got to be too much. To the "iceberg" it was probably a quarter of a mile, walking through freezing mist - sounds like a fun way to spend the day, right?. The good news is that there was a visitors center to the right of our destination, and we were able to tuck in there to thaw out.

Peter and I both feel it was worth the trip to see the falls, but the photographs are probably not going to win any awards. As you can see in this short slide show, I couldn't get my mind off that freezing mist and the resulting ice it created everywhere.

 Photos ©2010 Claudia Ward

Music: Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra: Theme F: (Full Orchestra) by Benjamin Britten, Leonard Bernstein & New York Philharmonic

The next morning we rose once more before the sun, and piled our luggage and selves onto the shuttle to the airport by 5:00 a.m. It was mind-boggling to us when we got to the airport how many people were already there. The two lines for customs each had at least 250 people in them and they both fed in to security which was a not-so-entertaining zoo, but these trials were behind us by 6:30 a.m. when we were enjoying a croissant and a hot cup of coffee. The plane left on time, our luggage was on the carousel when we got to baggage claim in New York, taxis were plentiful, and the Jitney Ambassador was on time to take us two hours east to home-sweet-home. The blizzard of 2010 which paralyzed the city and shut down airports and rail service was only three days ago. Here, three days later, seeing clear, dry roads, small mounds of snow, and patches of grass on the median and along the highway, Peter and I wondered, where did it all go? Was this what held us up for three days?

Well, it was an adventure, and now we're oh so glad to be home.

Paris Travel Journal 25 December 2010

I woke early after seven hours sleep and rose to write a Christmas post. It was fun to create a slide show of the pictures we took from La Grande Roue and to post it from Paris! You have to love today’s technology. The free WiFi in the apartment made it all possible.

Peter and I decided we wanted to return to the Cité station of the No. 4 Métro to photograph it using tripods this time. We left the apartment around 10:15 a.m., spent 45 minutes photographing the station and then moseyed on over to Notre Dame.

As always the square in front of the cathedral was filled. Peter took some HDR pictures of the church. It was bitterly cold, rendering my camera nearly useless, so we decided to duck in to one of our favorite places in Paris, Le Flore en l'Ile on the Ile St. Louis.

We were seated at the same table Peter, Sally, Bill and I ate at three years ago, when we’d just arrived in Paris for Christmas. Peter ordered a chocolat chaud and I had a vin chaud à la cannelle; Peter had Oeufs Bacon (eggs and bacon) and I had a very satisfying Potage aux Légumes (vegetable soup).

Bracing ourselves against the ice-cold wind, we walked along the right bank to the Louvre where Peter was in heaven photographing the pyramid and all of the Louvre’s architectural detail - in HDR (High Dynamic Range) of course.
I did my best to get a few photographs and wait patiently, although it was a test, because the cold went right to my bones. Once we were out of the shadows of the palace, the sun felt warm by comparison and we enjoyed walking through the Tuilleries with throngs of Parisians out for a Christmas stroll. We exited the jardin on to the rue de Rivoli and stopped at a sidewalk café to warm up with yet another vin chaud.

It was now 4:00 p.m. and we headed to the Tour Montparnasse to be there for sunset. The tower is the tallest structure in Paris and has the fastest elevator in Europe. It’s located in the 15^th Arr. (our “hood”) and its 210 meters of steel and glass are built above the Montparnasse-Bienvenue Métro station. The 56^th floor is an indoor observation floor and, on a good day, an outdoor observatory can be accessed from the 59^th. Sadly, the observatory was inaccessible this day because of ice. As cold as it would have been, we would have preferred to be able to photograph Paris unimpeded by glass, but we still tried … with expected results – reflections.

Sunset was brilliant – the bright yellow sun slowly crossed the horizon line making the sky around it flame red. The city below showed itself only in dark shades of charcoal black and gray. I stayed with some of the camera equipment and watched the sun’s entire decent. Once the sky was black, the city’s lights began to twinkle below and I became aware of the train tracks of the Gare Montparnasse below by watching the headlights of moving trains entering the station. We spent an hour in this tower over looking all of Paris, identifying all of the places where we’d been and those that would be on our list for places to visit tomorrow.

When we returned to the streets, we were surprised by how busy they were, but then again we were at one of the seven train stations in Paris and people were coming and going. Once again we returned to the apartment to review our photos of the day, enjoy our panoramic view and partake of another of Peter’s wonderful smorgasbords – sliced sausage and apples, foie gras with pear jelly infused with sauterne, brie and blue cheeses, and, of course, a crusty baguette. It’s so nice to be able to “go home” after a day out on your feet, to relax and plan the next day’s events.

 

Paris Travel Journal 24 December 2010

The sky was still pitch black when the alarm went off at 7:00 a.m. and it was just beginning to show light when we left the apartment around 8:40 a.m.  What on earth could get us to wake up with an alarm on a holiday like this? Answer: The Monet exhibition at the Grand Palais. I was able to get tickets before we left the states, but the only time available was at 9:00 a.m. on Christmas Eve Day – so I took them.

For a solid two and a half hours, Peter and I floated through the exhibition listening to the story of the evolution of Monet’s life and art. I can’t find the words to describe the pleasure of being in the presence of so much beautiful art. I came away with an increased respect for painters of all styles but particularly those who follow the Impressionistic style. When I would look closely at one of Monet’s painted canvases, all I would see were strokes of color – wonderful color but with no real form. It wasn’t until I would stand back that the strokes came together to form water, seaside cliffs, or a fête in the streets of Paris. To one who cannot even draw, this is magical, especially as the result is so pleasing to my senses.

When we left the Grand Palais, the snow was once again trying to turn to sleet but we decided to walk the Champs-Elysées anyway. There were tiny one-room white-wooden shops lining the boulevard all the way to the Place de la Concorde where we could see the La Grande Roue (Ferris wheel) turning. We made that our destination, stopping only once for a quick snack – a blini topped with a dollop of caviar and a shot of ice-cold vodka.

The views from La Grande Roue are wonderful. You can see all the way along the Champs-Elysées to l’Arc de Triomphe, and looking east, we watched people amble through the Tuilleries to the Louvre and in the distance we could see the towers of Notre Dame. Of course, La Tour Eiffel stood out clearly, framed at its base from time to time by the golden statues on the Pont Alexandre III. Three turns of the wheel and we were back on terra firma. Since we didn’t have all of our photography equipment with us, we decided to head back to Montparnasse to retrieve it.

We were starving when we reached the street from the Métro and found a fabulous brasserie on Avenue du Maine called Le Petit Sommelier. It was warm and crowded on this Christmas Eve, a perfect place to take refuge from the increasingly cold and nasty weather outside. We started with the chef’s homemade foie gras with onion jam – yum. Peter had rare entrecôte that melted in his mouth and I had a superb poulet rôti. By this time it was 2:30 p.m. and the weather was just plain miserable so we decided to call it a day and ordered dessert and coffee. The dessert Peter selected was a medley of sweets that included macaroons, a really dense fudge brownie, and a small crème brulée. Filled to the brim and ever so happy, Peter and I bundled up against the elements for the ten minute walk home.

  The remainder of the day we spent looking at our photos and Peter’s videos, writing for the blog and just staring at the Parisian skyline. On cue La Tour Eiffel lit up at sundown and began dancing at 6:00 p.m. Somehow we stayed awake until 10:00 p.m. when we finally gave in to blissful slumber.

 

Paris Travel Journal 23 December 2010

The day started later than we would have liked but then … who cares, it’s only us. Jet lag sleep is a challenge and we both truly began to sleep around 3:00 a.m. So we woke up with the “sun” which rises here around 8:40 a.m. Organizing the camera equipment, preparing coffee, getting accustomed to the bathing arrangements, and testing internet connections, all took time, so when we finally sallied forth it was after noon. By then, the snow had started and it felt very festive.

First order of the day? Lunch, of course. I’d spent part of the morning reading the Journal D’Or which is a record of comments left by prior renters of the apartment. There were lots of recommendations for local eateries; we scouted a few and then hunger for a good meal overcame us and we tucked in to the nearest brasserie. Sadly the results were disappointing – dry pork chop and a quiche lorraine with salmon in it – doesn’t that sound very Californian? Oh well, onward and upwards.

We found the Métro (No. 4) that took us to l’Ile de la Cité. The Métro stop is called Cité and it’s wonderful. From the stairs, when we looked down, we could see the tracks that curve as they enter the station, trains coming and going, the lamps with frosted round globes, and everything reflected in the tiled ceiling – we were in geometric heaven and spent at least 20 minutes photographing the station.
When we finally reached street level, we found the snow was considering turning to sleet – but we moved on to Notre Dame.

By now dusk was upon us, the square in front of Notre Dame was teeming with people, a stream of which was entering the cathedral so we joined them. The sheer magnitude of this structure always gives me pause. As our eyes adjusted to the dark and our cameras adjusted to the warmth, I had time to consider my other senses and found to my immense pleasure that I could hear a choir singing. We ambled along the north aisle and when we got to the crossing I found a seat where I could see and hear the choir rehearsing. Peter went blithely off to photograph all the nooks and crannies that he could. Sitting in this magnificent cathedral, listening to the choir sing Adeste Fideles and staring at the glorious south rose window, brought tears to my eyes and joy to my heart.

Evening had fallen upon us by the time we left the church, and the snow was once again snow. We walked east to see the flying buttresses and then decided to cross the Pont de l'Archevêché and walk along the left bank to where the Pont Neuf meets rue Dauphine.
A walk that would have taken us 10-15 minutes took twice as long because we couldn’t stop taking pictures of “Our Lady of Paris” in the snow. 

When we went to cooking school with Patricia Wells in 2006, she had Juan Sanchez join the wine class on the last day. Juan owns a wonderful wine shop in the 6^th Arr. called La Dernière Goutte (The Last Drop) which we try to visit whenever we’re in Paris. 

It’s on one of the most charming streets (rue Bourbon le Château) in Paris and just oozes with character. As Juan wasn’t there we moved on to the Boulevard St-Germain and tucked in to a bar to dry off and warm up over a proper cocktail.

The Métro brought us back to Montparnasse and our wonderful apartment. Too tired and cold to do anything more, we hung up our wet clothes, wrapped ourselves in warm bathrobes, and watched the lights of Paris and the Tour Eiffel. For dinner we started with a little foie gras accompanied by chilled Muscat de Beaumes de Venise and then nibbled on a variety of sliced salamis, and cheeses with a crusty baguette. Fresh radishes with Isigny beurre and salt filled the vegetable requirement of our repast.

What a wonderful day all around.

 

 

Merry Christmas

From Paris!

La Tour Eiffel Dressed in Dancing Diamonds

Paris Christmas Eve Day

Peter and I started the day soon after sunrise (which is at 8:43 a.m. here in Paris) at the Grand Palais. We'd purchased tickets before we left the states for a 9:00 a.m. entrance to the Monet exhibit. What a wonderful way to spend a morning - with hundreds of Monet's paintings. When we finally left those hallowed halls it was just before noon. It was still gray with snow flurries, and we decided to walk along the Champs-Elysées to the Place de la Concorde to check out the ferris wheel. The boulevard was lined with tiny one room white-wooden shops selling everything from scarves to spices, from crepes to caviar - which of course is where we stopped for a quick pick-me-up - a blini with a good dollop of caviar and a shot of ice cold vodka.

When we reached the Place, we decided there's no better time than the present, so we climbed on board the ferris wheel to see what we could see. I'm sure this is spectacular on a clear, sunny day but we really enjoyed this perspective on what appeared to be a black and white Paris. We could see all the way down the Champs-Elysées to l'Arc de Triomphe; la Tour Eiffel was framed at times by the golden statues on the Pont Alexendre III; and, to the east the Tuilleries led to the Louvre and in the distance we could even see the towers of Notre Dame. We hope you enjoy the views too.

  

Merry Christmas one and all.