tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72734712024-03-13T03:55:19.887-07:00Dulce et decorum estLife's recollections examined.Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-66274592199059017502019-05-28T13:44:00.000-07:002019-05-28T13:44:42.680-07:00Whatever Lola wants...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Its so nice to have Lola in my life, and I in hers. Sometimes I'm not really sure who rescued who, but in any case, I'm glad she's here, through thick and thin, full or flush.<br />
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Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-80228938894039189382013-09-13T03:25:00.001-07:002013-09-13T03:25:21.508-07:00Life is good in Medellin, Colombia!<div><br><br><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4lq2OEdQfxo/UjLoESMR87I/AAAAAAAADOE/KqQVCYINwdU/s1600/Photo1-721508.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4lq2OEdQfxo/UjLoESMR87I/AAAAAAAADOE/KqQVCYINwdU/s160/Photo1-721508.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5923051620246090674" /></a></div><div><br><br>Sent from my iPhone--<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: medium; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">excuse my brevity and any typos</span></div>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-86045579269086096102012-03-08T08:17:00.000-08:002012-03-08T08:18:55.131-08:00My Aurangabad morning<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pkfq8W5pSl0/T1jb79tofwI/AAAAAAAABZo/C1AGdrt1-70/s1600/photo-735132.JPG"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pkfq8W5pSl0/T1jb79tofwI/AAAAAAAABZo/C1AGdrt1-70/s160/photo-735132.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717561550171569922" /></a></p>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-83712012210054536662011-11-08T22:52:00.000-08:002011-11-08T22:52:33.014-08:00China 2011<b>Kunming, Yunnan Province</b><br />
Kunming is an amazing city. I feel so privileged to have gone there and made such fantastic friends there. It's not hot, polluted and crowded like so many other cities in China. It's at a higher elevation and in a beautiful area. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jXCO0eKc5_s/Trohj6VgKJI/AAAAAAAABYQ/EdDgMqeyTfk/s1600/IMG00002-20110618-1023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jXCO0eKc5_s/Trohj6VgKJI/AAAAAAAABYQ/EdDgMqeyTfk/s200/IMG00002-20110618-1023.jpg" /></a></div>The 5-star hotel I stayed in was quite remarkable, there was a TV in the bathtub! This ghostly image was quite unintentional. The quality of shows was so bad I didn't even turn the TV on again, unfortunately. But, in all truth, there was not much to expect, really, from State-run media, expect, perhaps, the celebrations of the PRC.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-othr9gkO25k/TroirAZi8ZI/AAAAAAAABYc/IEGQiDv31Eo/s1600/HappyBDayCPC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="150" width="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-othr9gkO25k/TroirAZi8ZI/AAAAAAAABYc/IEGQiDv31Eo/s200/HappyBDayCPC.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--WKfOu5WJfY/Troi_qwrwVI/AAAAAAAABYo/bQ9t51a34pQ/s1600/CCTV2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="200" width="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--WKfOu5WJfY/Troi_qwrwVI/AAAAAAAABYo/bQ9t51a34pQ/s200/CCTV2.jpg" /></a></div>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-27280535857843499342011-09-03T00:22:00.001-07:002019-05-28T13:41:24.209-07:00China 2011Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-86199247736358827922011-01-24T13:12:00.000-08:002011-01-25T09:48:02.841-08:00My Mushroom Foray, 2011 editionSalt Point State Park is a huge area for mushroom hunters of all creeds and colors. There are the hard-core mycological nuts (of which I am loosely affiliated), the ethnic fungal foodies, the chanterelle/morel snobs and the young college-aged who just ravage the ground for anything that looks like a mushroom, perhaps for profit, perhaps for food, perhaps for a class project. <br />
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On this day, I rode my 2009 Triumph Bonneville up Highway 101 and headed west to the coast route, Highway 1, where I went north, through Bodega Bay, past Jenner, up to Fort Ross and to Salt Point S.P. It was quiet, as usual, along the whole route. It was spectacular, both visually and the climate. I intentionally left out the predictable photographs of the coastline. As it was, I needed the battery juice for both my camera and my phone! The most interesting thing about my little foray was that there were well-trodden paths everywhere through the woods with very obvious craters where there may have been larger mushrooms! There was not one large mushroom to be seen! All of the photographs I've included here are no more than 3-5 cm. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3KYUWVE2I/AAAAAAAABVU/AHNGhPC-zws/s1600/P1010055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3KYUWVE2I/AAAAAAAABVU/AHNGhPC-zws/s320/P1010055.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <span class="Data"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/name/show_name/5508"><b><i>Agaricus moelleri</i></b> Wasser</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3Kh2ch6GI/AAAAAAAABVc/RB05_A3ahSg/s1600/P1010060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3Kh2ch6GI/AAAAAAAABVc/RB05_A3ahSg/s320/P1010060.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="ListName"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/13945?q=3TdM"><b><i>Amanita pachycolea</i></b></a></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3KlseBqqI/AAAAAAAABVg/PqHuBgQPQIA/s1600/P1010061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3KlseBqqI/AAAAAAAABVg/PqHuBgQPQIA/s320/P1010061.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="ListName"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/5450?q=3TdM"><b><i>Lactarius deliciosus</i></b> (L.) Gray </a></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3Koq_H63I/AAAAAAAABVk/SevZ5g0esYc/s1600/P1010062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3Koq_H63I/AAAAAAAABVk/SevZ5g0esYc/s320/P1010062.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lophozia (?)</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3KsTcOCRI/AAAAAAAABVo/cyGjWMfsQpY/s1600/P1010065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3KsTcOCRI/AAAAAAAABVo/cyGjWMfsQpY/s320/P1010065.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="ListName"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/2589?q=3TdM"><b><i>Cortinarius phoeniceus</i></b> var. <b><i>occidentalis</i></b> A.H. Sm. </a></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3KviDPv6I/AAAAAAAABVs/pJlTki4LFbs/s1600/P1010067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3KviDPv6I/AAAAAAAABVs/pJlTki4LFbs/s320/P1010067.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="ListName"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/58923?q=3TdM"><b><i>Dacrymyces palmatus</i></b> (Schwein.) </a></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3K_9Rwt0I/AAAAAAAABVw/zQlt2-XdI3k/s1600/P1010070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3K_9Rwt0I/AAAAAAAABVw/zQlt2-XdI3k/s320/P1010070.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="ListName"><span class="ListName"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/6800?q=3TdM"><strong><em>Tremellodendropsis tuberosa</em></strong> (Grev.) D.A. Crawford (6800)</a></span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LC8VncVI/AAAAAAAABV0/7ewK0mbGu2k/s1600/P1010071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LC8VncVI/AAAAAAAABV0/7ewK0mbGu2k/s320/P1010071.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="ListName"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/60041?q=3TdM"><b><i>Ramaria sp.</i></b></a></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LFFJoZXI/AAAAAAAABV4/E8ImNY_0lbA/s1600/P1010072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LFFJoZXI/AAAAAAAABV4/E8ImNY_0lbA/s320/P1010072.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em>Inocybe sp.</em></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LKW8RFPI/AAAAAAAABV8/nFWZSQ5Sd3c/s1600/P1010073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LKW8RFPI/AAAAAAAABV8/nFWZSQ5Sd3c/s320/P1010073.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Cortinaria sp.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LNXBK-dI/AAAAAAAABWA/LzwWY26ov2w/s1600/P1010074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LNXBK-dI/AAAAAAAABWA/LzwWY26ov2w/s320/P1010074.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="ListName"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/33227?q=3TdM"><b><i>Leotia lubrica</i></b> (Scop.) </a></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LP1DdBHI/AAAAAAAABWE/fjkov3SwLvc/s1600/P1010075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TT3LP1DdBHI/AAAAAAAABWE/fjkov3SwLvc/s320/P1010075.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="ListName"><a href="http://mushroomobserver.org/59976?q=3TdM"><b><i>Cantharellus subalbidus</i></b> Smith & Morse </a></span></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After my little foray, I ventured over to <a href="http://www.drycreekvineyard.com/">Dry Creek Vineyard</a> for a little solo tasting of my favorite Malbec and <a href="http://www.drycreekvineyard.com/our_wines/2007_dcv10_pinot.html">Pinot Noir</a>. I also picked up their <a href="http://www.drycreekvineyard.com/our_wines/2006_late_harvest_zinfandel.html">Late Harvest Zinfandel</a>, which is the most addicting wine I've ever had, a dessert wine, it's sweet, but it's truly divine. Well, that was it for 2011! </div>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-26775284869570297932011-01-16T17:12:00.001-08:002011-01-16T17:12:08.371-08:00No better place<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TTOXaf1wwsI/AAAAAAAABVI/7RuHLVEEEj0/s1600/IMAG0370-728373.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TTOXaf1wwsI/AAAAAAAABVI/7RuHLVEEEj0/s160/IMAG0370-728373.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562956446212080322" /></a></p><p>Bolinas Lagoon...Sunday moto ride</p> Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-77261162157243746492011-01-11T18:48:00.001-08:002011-01-11T18:48:08.278-08:00DC in winter.<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TS0WaUge9wI/AAAAAAAABUo/my-hOqaz3WQ/s1600/%253D%253Futf-8%253FB%253FSU1BRzAzNjAuanBn%253F%253D-788279"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TS0WaUge9wI/AAAAAAAABUo/my-hOqaz3WQ/s160/%253D%253Futf-8%253FB%253FSU1BRzAzNjAuanBn%253F%253D-788279" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561125756309796610" /></a></p>I may not have love. I may not have joy. But, by God, I have D.C. At least for today.<br><br>Kevin Foley<br><br>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-40452512264116830572011-01-07T14:13:00.000-08:002011-01-07T14:15:13.388-08:00Joy<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TSeQcv8_QOI/AAAAAAAABUg/Wij7JkIkFFc/s1600/%253D%253Futf-8%253FB%253FSU1BRzAzMzUuanBn%253F%253D-713389"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TSeQcv8_QOI/AAAAAAAABUg/Wij7JkIkFFc/s160/%253D%253Futf-8%253FB%253FSU1BRzAzMzUuanBn%253F%253D-713389" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559571088595173602" /></a></p>The new me ... better than the old me, with a tad of joy.<br><br>Kevin Foley<br><br>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-70990772177942011872010-12-14T18:25:00.000-08:002010-12-14T21:10:12.132-08:00Winter in D.C.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2Jc3g00I/AAAAAAAABUQ/Zq-5_yyWmaU/s1600/P1010051.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 145px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2Jc3g00I/AAAAAAAABUQ/Zq-5_yyWmaU/s200/P1010051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550746076729889602" border="0" /></a>There are many things about Washington D.C. that I love, and having been here nearly 10 times in my life, the majority of times in the last 8+ years while attending meetings or training, I never seemed to tire of it all. The amount and depth of culture never ceases to amaze me and the depth-less kindness of the people is always welcoming. I could continue on about some of the other desirable aspects, such as the delicious soft-shelled crab, but that's not the purpose of this blog entry. Yet, I wonder, perhaps I'm being naive, perhaps its the fact that I'm always a visitor that my rose-colored glasses lead me to happy days like these. I don't know, the area just plain makes me happy.<br /><br />A little background: Long before this trip was organized, I came to the realization there was much more to life than saving and scrimping all of my <span style="font-style: italic;">per diem</span> allowance by eating rotisserie chicken and hydroponic lettuce each night with the obligatory glass or two of wine after I worked out in the gym instead of going out to save money. I was in the nation's capital, for God's sake! (paraphrasing a very, very good friend of mine)<br /><br />So, on Saturday, December 10, 2010, I set out to fill my day with all of the nascent goodness that the area offers that I could muster. I knew it would take a lot to travel, and yes, for example, I burned a hard-earned $15 on a cab ride/amateur psychoanalyst to get me from the Gaithersburg Marriott to the Shady Grove Metro, only a 15 minute ride, or so. But, by gum, I was on a mission! After buying my ticket and climbing aboard the train, I began this day's adventure <span style="font-style: italic;">sans</span> guidebook, map... no nothing except for my smartphone and desire. (I would recommend bringing your charger so you can charge it, say if you were in a coffee shop for a length of time. Well, maybe that and at least a good pair of shoes). Reaching the Archives Metro Stop after making a transfer at Metro Center or somewhere, I got out and walked past a craft faire and wouldn't you know, one of the first things I saw which interested me was the <a href="http://americanart.si.edu/visit/about/">Smithsonian American Art Museum</a> right in front of me and a short line to get in! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgwBfS1VLI/AAAAAAAABSY/ZB6rD3JQXbE/s1600/P1010001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgwBfS1VLI/AAAAAAAABSY/ZB6rD3JQXbE/s200/P1010001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550739342872630450" border="0" /></a>The second I scrambled in, I remembered it was free, and this exhilarated me! Awesome! Proceeding, I coyly stepped up to the counter where the wonderful volunteers proffered all sorts of encouragement and ideas of what to do including visiting the Norman Rockwell exhibit which had just weeks left for display! Woo-hoo! Why not go in!? It was so nice. Also nice was a particular Norman Rockwell piece of work which showed a newly returned soldier who was donning "civies" after coming home. As I stood in front of it, reading the caption, a sweet elderly woman began to tell me her story of when she was a military nurse in WW2 in Chicago's Loyola Hospital, her job being to see after young men returning from the war. It was moving to hear her story for a few minutes till her daughter whisked her away. This gallery had so much more to offer than I can explain here, so, I decided to take photos which I show here, which are perfectly permissible, as long as you're taking pictures of exhibits the Smithsonian owns, not the special collections. There were so many other pieces, here are a few:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgwt8MV3SI/AAAAAAAABS4/KuQ60tY9-rE/s1600/P1010007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgwt8MV3SI/AAAAAAAABS4/KuQ60tY9-rE/s200/P1010007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550740106544274722" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgwtX2fWcI/AAAAAAAABSw/pYNogoc4KgU/s1600/P1010005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgwtX2fWcI/AAAAAAAABSw/pYNogoc4KgU/s200/P1010005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550740096788945346" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgwtMjeU8I/AAAAAAAABSg/eR1v2pEpKIg/s1600/P1010002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 132px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgwtMjeU8I/AAAAAAAABSg/eR1v2pEpKIg/s200/P1010002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550740093756396482" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In the next piece, you might notice that I adopted an art form of my own from a dear friend who takes pictures of herself in all sorts of objects and ways, such as shadows or mirrored objects like this! I have to admit it's always a challenge, and I am a poor reflection (pardon the pun) of her expertise, but here's my attempt!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgyEZsII1I/AAAAAAAABTA/GogvGyDuLFY/s1600/P1010011.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgyEZsII1I/AAAAAAAABTA/GogvGyDuLFY/s200/P1010011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550741591930970962" border="0" /></a><br /> My next stop was <a href="http://americanart.si.edu/visit/about/">Smithsonian's Renwick Gallery</a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzR68kJHI/AAAAAAAABTI/n7ChXz-nATg/s1600/P1010012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 193px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzR68kJHI/AAAAAAAABTI/n7ChXz-nATg/s200/P1010012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550742923708212338" border="0" /></a>which supposedly had works from a friend, <a href="http://www.richardshawart.com/home.html">Richard Shaw</a>, a well-acclaimed artist in his own right. Unfortunately, all his pieces were in storage! I had seen his pieces before, they're fantastic. On the second floor there was a wonderful collection of hand-made art made from scraps of discarded junk, made into beautiful things by prisoners of the Japanese-American internment camps. Moving, that's all I can say! The pieces are all so beautiful in the Renwick. Some are very whimsical, like "Game Fish", consisting of lots of little game pieces! Fun!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzSW-BwyI/AAAAAAAABTY/CJ8DR15MI54/s1600/P1010018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 168px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzSW-BwyI/AAAAAAAABTY/CJ8DR15MI54/s200/P1010018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550742931230540578" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzSrDwzuI/AAAAAAAABTg/CgzHkrLNk5k/s1600/P1010024.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 144px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzSrDwzuI/AAAAAAAABTg/CgzHkrLNk5k/s200/P1010024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550742936623304418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzSt9sAeI/AAAAAAAABTo/y5dpUY7-38Y/s1600/P1010025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 163px; height: 122px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzSt9sAeI/AAAAAAAABTo/y5dpUY7-38Y/s200/P1010025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550742937403130338" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzSK1bDjI/AAAAAAAABTQ/CyZeGxxHTzQ/s1600/P1010017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 128px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQgzSK1bDjI/AAAAAAAABTQ/CyZeGxxHTzQ/s200/P1010017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550742927973223986" border="0" /></a><br /><br />However, the Renwick is a small venue, so I went on to my next port-of-call, the <a href="http://www.newseum.org/">Newseum</a>. It's hard for me to describe this museum, I came away so perplexed. Was it the amazing onslaught of TV and LCD screens and just general barrage of media? Was it the horror brought back of the 9/11 attack? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2IviuDII/AAAAAAAABT4/LtLVmigeqp4/s1600/P1010032.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2IviuDII/AAAAAAAABT4/LtLVmigeqp4/s200/P1010032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550746064563080322" border="0" /></a>Was it the display of America's fascination of death and crime in the exhibit of FBI's Most Wanted, e.g. the Unabomber, the D.C. sniper, mafiosi? I dunno. All I can say is I will have to take a pass on plunking $20 to return.<br />Yet, notably, there was an interesting collection or two, like the following <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2IVWxuxI/AAAAAAAABTw/jB7sykP0is4/s1600/P1010038.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 121px; height: 148px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2IVWxuxI/AAAAAAAABTw/jB7sykP0is4/s200/P1010038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550746057533668114" border="0" /></a>which consisted photographs of US Presidents with their dogs. Hmmm.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />By this time, it was almost 4 and I was ready for art and coffee at the <a href="http://www.nga.gov/">National Gallery of Art</a>, just across the street, which is easily one of my top ten places to visit on this planet. I love this place, every aspect of it, the galleries bring life and joy to my soul as it did on this day and each time I go, I dance through the gift and book stores, never having enough time I try to buy lots of the smallest things to pack in my luggage, but I always end up buying too much! There is just so much to love here, words escape me.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2I8WUU_I/AAAAAAAABUA/XMyB_SOO1jk/s1600/P1010040.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2I8WUU_I/AAAAAAAABUA/XMyB_SOO1jk/s200/P1010040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550746068000723954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />By the time I finished buying gifts and seeing a smattering of pieces like "Odalisque", the Gallery was closing, and I needed to skedaddle to my last event of the evening; I had a ticket waiting for me for NPR's "A Jazz Piano Christmas". This event capped off a beautiful day in a beautiful place, D.C. Love it, it loves you back.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2JIJiXLI/AAAAAAAABUI/aUfH1IuS-7M/s1600/P1010042.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TQg2JIJiXLI/AAAAAAAABUI/aUfH1IuS-7M/s200/P1010042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550746071168343218" border="0" /></a>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-13455344625052854532010-12-01T16:21:00.000-08:002019-05-28T13:41:23.743-07:00Moto Tour of Big Sur Coast-2010After a very leisurely start, a dear friend <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbw9BltrpI/AAAAAAAABRo/f363xzd8QVM/s1600/anna.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545884922342649490" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 166px; height: 166px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbw9BltrpI/AAAAAAAABRo/f363xzd8QVM/s200/anna.jpg" border="0" /></a>and I began our tour of the Big Sur Coast. A few weeks prior, I rode most of the same <a href="http://munchin.blogspot.com/2010/11/big-sur-bicycle-tour.html">route <strong>by bicycle</strong> and turned back North to Marin County due to a very cold rainstorm which pelted me mercilessly</a>. The weather was magnificent, cool and crisp on the first day, but almost 10 degrees warmer the second. Thank goodness for my spanking, brand-new heated gloves and jacket liner. It performed a yeoman's duty, indeed! This day, 11/30/2010, we rode all the way to Big Sur, actually, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.deetjens.com">Deetjen's Big Sur Inn</a>, in one day, whereas by bicycle, it took 3 days: Day One: Sta Cruz, Day Two: Monterey, Day Three: Big Sur. The moto makes for a quick ride and is very exhilirating and allows for a nice stop here and there! <div><div><div><div><div><br />
When we arrived at Deetjen's, the hotel was a bit bewildered on the reservation (I recommend making sure they send you the confirmation code when making reservations). On my bicycle ride, I stayed in Grandpa's room, which was definitely on the "main drag" for locals who live in the hills on the road which actually passes through Deetjen's. The rooms upstairs are substantially more quiet, although the walls are all still paper-thin! After a nice dinner at the nearby <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.nepenthebigsur.com/">Nepenthe</a> Restaurant, just up the road, I conked out quickly. </div><div></div><div><br />
</div><div>The next day, I decided to accompany my friend down the coast past the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.hearstcastle.org">Hearst Castle</a> where we checked out the massive visitor's entrance/cafe/museum/gift shop to Cambria and to cut over to Hiway 101. This was my first time to this grandiose-appearing castle on the hill, and although I didn't go on the tour, I could tell it will be impressive!</div><div></div><div><br />
</div><div>I found the stretch between Big Sur and Cambria to be especially beautiful, flat and have already made mental notes for a "credit card"-style bicyle tour, staying at Pfeiffer State Park, Kirk Creek State Park campground or Treebone's and then powering the rest of the way to perhaps San Simeon. After Cambria, you're mostly in towns the rest of the way. It's the Big Sur Coast that's the real pay-off. If I were to complete the ride, I would seriously consider just going to San Luis Obispo and taking the train to wherever! </div><div></div><div>Well, as such, my friend and I ended up going through to San Luis Obispo, where I stayed at the <a href="http://www.madonnainn.com/">Madonna Inn</a>, in the <a href="http://www.madonnainn.com/rooms/101.php">"Sweepstakes Room". </a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbsrnxvosI/AAAAAAAABQw/11DQ1b18UFw/s1600/horsey.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545880225309500098" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 217px; height: 134px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbsrnxvosI/AAAAAAAABQw/11DQ1b18UFw/s200/horsey.jpg" border="0" /></a> My friend continued on their journey. I have to say, this having been the first time I've been to the Madonna Inn, I'm impressed! The hotel is definitely "over the top" in terms of kitsch, glamour and a "beauty in the eyes of the beholder"-frame of mind beauty. At least in my opinion! <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbujJ_9bJI/AAAAAAAABRQ/34ArGM0JAgc/s1600/Madonna_rooms.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545882278900362386" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 200px; height: 134px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbujJ_9bJI/AAAAAAAABRQ/34ArGM0JAgc/s200/Madonna_rooms.jpg" border="0" /></a>All the rooms have a cool theme to them, and Alex Madonna and his wife had an amazing sense of style, not to mention considerable resources which have imparted an unmistakable sense of style to the entire facility, making it unusually warm and homey, to me at least.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbv4T-vL0I/AAAAAAAABRY/5jk58JeLSgY/s1600/saddle_chair.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545883741868470082" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 200px; height: 134px;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbv4T-vL0I/AAAAAAAABRY/5jk58JeLSgY/s200/saddle_chair.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545884099531602274" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 200px; height: 134px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbwNIYReWI/AAAAAAAABRg/odwxJNV9Eco/s200/sweepstakes.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>My room was very horsey-themed, which was super-<em>apropos, </em>as my friend is a horse <em>afficionado</em>! Nice! <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545881967282518322" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 200px; height: 134px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPbuRBIeeTI/AAAAAAAABRI/3IaZnNGyZNw/s200/cool_tile.jpg" border="0" /><br />
As the holidays were close, Santa was seen hanging out on the coast but was a bit camera-shy this day. He did leave a little reminder while he went on a hike on the sparkly beach below!<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnXe0P09cI/AAAAAAAABRw/wstKv53ZjlQ/s1600/P1010003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnXe0P09cI/AAAAAAAABRw/wstKv53ZjlQ/s200/P1010003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546701340504552898" border="0" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnY9NCUI9I/AAAAAAAABSA/9G-8JMJHJ1g/s1600/P1010013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnY9NCUI9I/AAAAAAAABSA/9G-8JMJHJ1g/s200/P1010013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546702962066465746" border="0" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnYXAgKQvI/AAAAAAAABR4/gR4Ra9riqCk/s1600/P1010005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnYXAgKQvI/AAAAAAAABR4/gR4Ra9riqCk/s200/P1010005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546702305866957554" border="0" /></a><-at Hearst Castle On coast near Gorda ----><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnaKxZB4QI/AAAAAAAABSI/SUDgbJ0VGJ8/s1600/P1010006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnaKxZB4QI/AAAAAAAABSI/SUDgbJ0VGJ8/s200/P1010006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546704294675341570" border="0" /></a>There's something about the whole area that makes you appreciate nature and give you that tingly happy feeling to be alive.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnbrZRji9I/AAAAAAAABSQ/N6D4qw9vw6Y/s1600/P1010018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TPnbrZRji9I/AAAAAAAABSQ/N6D4qw9vw6Y/s200/P1010018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546705954648853458" border="0" /></a>This last shot is a picture of my friend and I just before she left to visit friends in other parts of So. Cal. as I stayed one nite at the Madonna Inn before riding for almost 5 hours to cover 250 miles Northbound to Marin County, California.<br />
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</div></div></div></div></div>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-57662541033396865442010-11-22T21:28:00.000-08:002011-01-28T10:45:29.913-08:00Big Sur Bicycle Tour<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtRtkd3mAI/AAAAAAAABJ4/t4Blpt25bRI/s1600/P1010058.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtRtkd3mAI/AAAAAAAABJ4/t4Blpt25bRI/s400/P1010058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542613609734445058" border="0" /></a>On Tuesday, November 16, 2010, I left for my little, very own <span style="font-style: italic;">spiritual journey</span>.<br />
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It started with my usual trip through Sausalito, California, my adopted home town, then up to and across the Golden Gate Bridge to San Francisco, through Lincoln Park, Chain-of-Lakes Drive, 41st Ave to the Zoo along Lake Merced Drive to Daly City where I met Skyline Drive. I then dropped down into Pacifica and began the climb along Hiway 1 through Montara, Devil's Slide and to Half Moon Bay. Devil's Slide is actually a slightly more dangerous stretch of Hiway One as there is almost no shoulder. Perhaps once they complete the tunnel circumventing the road, it will be easier.<br />
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It was a rewarding first day, crisp and clear. 170 miles to Big Sur, 70+ to Sta Cruz. My Waterford bike, weighing 70 lbs and change, seemed so difficult to move at first but once under way, it moved quickly on the flatter sections of the road! A welcome tail-wind was sweetly pushing me along and just a few hours later, I took the side road to Pescadero for a quick bite at <a href="http://www.normsmarket.com/">Archangeli's</a> Store: some nice artichoke bread, water and juice for breakfast and lunch. The weather chilled me a little bit as the sun reached its quarter above the ocean, so I continued back on to Highway One and decided to check out the <a href="http://www.norcalhostels.org/pigeon/">Pigeon Point Lighthouse Hostel</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtTgLZLhfI/AAAAAAAABKA/RIjBDJphLA4/s1600/P1010053.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtTgLZLhfI/AAAAAAAABKA/RIjBDJphLA4/s400/P1010053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542615578688849394" border="0" /></a>The setting is magnificent, and there was nobody there. The rooms are so reasonable here! 29 bucks for a dorm room and just a few dollars for a few minutes of jacuzzi time!<br />
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As it was only 2:30 pm and I felt I could make it to Santa Cruz, California easily, so I continued.<br />
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The wonderful thing about cycling is it gives you that space-time slot to think, experience, stop, take photos, breathe it all in. You just don't get anywhere as fast, and of course, you are much more vulnerable to the elements and the vagrancies of other vehicular traffic drivers.<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Pigeon Point Lighthouse</span><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtXNAwixJI/AAAAAAAABKY/oaxbxu9ITdU/s1600/P1010055.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtXNAwixJI/AAAAAAAABKY/oaxbxu9ITdU/s400/P1010055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542619647463048338" border="0" /></a>I saw lots of left-over pumpkin from the Halloween holidays in the fields before Pescadero, making for a very nice contrast to the green. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtU7hrncvI/AAAAAAAABKI/ce8E75c3nsM/s1600/P1010052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtU7hrncvI/AAAAAAAABKI/ce8E75c3nsM/s400/P1010052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542617148039852786" border="0" /></a><br />
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After that point however, I saw almost no more pumpkins. The road to Santa Cruz stretched out in what would be monotony to some, but this is where I got to think about all those things you store up during the work-year but were too busy to complete!<br />
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It seemed that all that I wanted to ponder was being laid out in front of my 28" Ruffy Tuffy tires, whirring along.<br />
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As my artichoke bread burned off, I rolled on but began to tire. I cranked<br />
hard. Another 30 or so miles. On a regular, unladen bike, I would have been there fast. On a fully packed touring bike, it took a lot longer, especially since I had to periodically stop and refer to the route sheet. I finally arrived at Santa Cruz's Natural Bridges park at sunset (see top photo).<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtWmlLH_1I/AAAAAAAABKQ/Vj7ySW3BhMM/s1600/P1010056.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtWmlLH_1I/AAAAAAAABKQ/Vj7ySW3BhMM/s400/P1010056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542618987223318354" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
Leftover pumpkins North of Pescadero.</span><br />
I loved seeing the kite sailors at Waddell Beach, near Santa Cruz, Monterey and others near Carmel. Once in a while I'd see windsurfers, whose sport is a lot closer to my heart, as I was a crazed fanatical windsurfer for about 10 years until I wrenched my knee and switched fanatical pursuits for bicycling! I'm so glad I did as I would never have been obsessed with this healthy sport (I went from 204 lbs windsurfing, an asset in counterpoising the forces of the wind, to 180 lbs in a couple of years, really!).<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtZM1s9kDI/AAAAAAAABKo/4_cQpINnIrg/s1600/P1010061.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtZM1s9kDI/AAAAAAAABKo/4_cQpINnIrg/s400/P1010061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542621843518492722" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Strawberry Fields forever.</span><br />
The smell of the ripe fruit was heavenly. I always wondered why we seem to have strawberries year-round now! Now I know. They're always covered in plastic to control the temperature of the fields. I saw fields in various phases of production up and down the coast.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtaLAgyotI/AAAAAAAABKw/QTY6RTPhngA/s1600/P1010063.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtaLAgyotI/AAAAAAAABKw/QTY6RTPhngA/s400/P1010063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542622911572124370" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">This was S of Santa Cruz, near Aptos, California, on my way to Monterey on Wednesday.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOta51d7r0I/AAAAAAAABK4/n7v4e16T8M8/s1600/P1010066.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOta51d7r0I/AAAAAAAABK4/n7v4e16T8M8/s400/P1010066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542623716061196098" border="0" /></a>Although it was a mere 30 miles or so to Monterey, California, from Santa Cruz, a hostel, where I stayed the first night, I had decided it was a good stop before the big push over the Carmel Highlands and up a couple of big elevation gains on my Adventure Cycling Association map all the way to Big Sur, California. From just outside Marina through Seaside to Monterey, there was a really nice bike route! It was great so far!<br />
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I love Monterey and I found the hostel with ease.<br />
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I was tempted to go to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, but at 27 bucks or so for entrance....not so much!<br />
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So, I hung out in front of the hostel for a while until they had pity on me and let me in!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtcF9GeBmI/AAAAAAAABLA/o70trzI53xo/s1600/P1010067.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtcF9GeBmI/AAAAAAAABLA/o70trzI53xo/s400/P1010067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542625023780324962" border="0" /></a><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Monterey, California. Near the Wharf.</span><br />
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The hostel was amazingly comfortable. Unlike the Santa Cruz hostel, they didn't allow single individuals to rent private rooms, where I shared a bathroom and shower with only the people in one other private room. This hostel was big and had lots of information for people to check things out in the area, a nice living space (see left photo), bike locker rooms, big spacious dorms and a very nice atmosphere.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOteATUi_UI/AAAAAAAABLQ/OK5Y4ppnuN8/s1600/P1010071.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOteATUi_UI/AAAAAAAABLQ/OK5Y4ppnuN8/s400/P1010071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542627125688991042" border="0" /></a>The kitchen was nice and had tons of stuff to make absolutely anything you desired! Coffeemakers, waffle-makers, everything! This place was 10 times nicer than my kitchen.<br />
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There was even food which was common to others, for free! Nice!<br />
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Oh, lots of rules, too. 8 minutes of hot water for the shower, unlike Sta Cruz, unlimited. Curfews, no ETOH, etc.<br />
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The dorm I slept in had German tourists, just like in Sta Cruz. My bunkmate was a loud mouth-breather and as many hostel-goers are young, many were "party animals" and came in late. As such, I didn't sleep well, unfortunately.<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtfTWi3EvI/AAAAAAAABLY/VO0PvyBic8A/s1600/P1010072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 188px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtfTWi3EvI/AAAAAAAABLY/VO0PvyBic8A/s400/P1010072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542628552483476210" border="0" /></a>On Wednesday, I made the big push through the Carmel Highlands where I saw these folks tracking sea otters with radio frequency antennae and GPS equipment.<br />
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I kept going up through the Highlands, then down the hill to Carmel and across the mouth of the Carmel Valley.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtgOWSh5eI/AAAAAAAABLg/hCG17CIdrCM/s1600/P1010073.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtgOWSh5eI/AAAAAAAABLg/hCG17CIdrCM/s400/P1010073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542629566027261410" border="0" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Carmel Highlands (otters)</span><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOthXItVf2I/AAAAAAAABLo/0jQf45PtSig/s1600/P1010075.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOthXItVf2I/AAAAAAAABLo/0jQf45PtSig/s400/P1010075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542630816512048994" border="0" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Big Sur coastline....</span><br />
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<a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtiTgkv-QI/AAAAAAAABLw/IxNOVx4ISl8/s1600/P1010076.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtiTgkv-QI/AAAAAAAABLw/IxNOVx4ISl8/s400/P1010076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542631853710637314" border="0" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Amazingly beautiful vistas soothed my soul.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOti7TLbvMI/AAAAAAAABL4/9t7Fxw9OwJE/s1600/P1010078.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOti7TLbvMI/AAAAAAAABL4/9t7Fxw9OwJE/s400/P1010078.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542632537309560002" border="0" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Bixby Bridge....N of Big Sur</span>...oft-photographed. Since I was solo, no photos of me!<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtjmLv7QTI/AAAAAAAABMA/FfrYYL08VN0/s1600/P1010080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtjmLv7QTI/AAAAAAAABMA/FfrYYL08VN0/s400/P1010080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542633274049511730" border="0" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Nepenthe</span>...a nice gift shop, a very cool restaurant....my third day in these bike clothes made me a bit self-conscious, but I was hungry, and lonely. I got a nice pair of earrings for my sister.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtkXqoy_2I/AAAAAAAABMI/0M2jW8myRtI/s1600/P1010081.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtkXqoy_2I/AAAAAAAABMI/0M2jW8myRtI/s400/P1010081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542634124154699618" border="0" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtnKQcXcxI/AAAAAAAABMg/qHf6-ys5CIw/s1600/P1010084.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtnKQcXcxI/AAAAAAAABMg/qHf6-ys5CIw/s200/P1010084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542637192319824658" border="0" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtoA_E56gI/AAAAAAAABMo/qCajHHYUVJg/s1600/P1010085.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtoA_E56gI/AAAAAAAABMo/qCajHHYUVJg/s200/P1010085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542638132550822402" border="0" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtpbmv1NNI/AAAAAAAABM4/1XkPSbOgfVA/s1600/P1010086.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtpbmv1NNI/AAAAAAAABM4/1XkPSbOgfVA/s400/P1010086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542639689388078290" border="0" /></a><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtqAPfr71I/AAAAAAAABNA/V0aFj26z1jE/s1600/P1010087.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtqAPfr71I/AAAAAAAABNA/V0aFj26z1jE/s400/P1010087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542640318801506130" border="0" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtqjwlptVI/AAAAAAAABNI/04QqHrDVYqo/s1600/P1010089.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtqjwlptVI/AAAAAAAABNI/04QqHrDVYqo/s200/P1010089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542640928980317522" border="0" /></a><br />
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view from the <a href="http://www.nepenthebigsur.com/">Cafe Phoenix, Nepenthe</a><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtrN9ulACI/AAAAAAAABNQ/mOaCuRlW7Nc/s1600/P1010095.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtrN9ulACI/AAAAAAAABNQ/mOaCuRlW7Nc/s320/P1010095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542641654061924386" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.hawthornegallery.com/">Hawthorne Gallery</a>, down the road from <a href="http://www.nepenthebigsur.com/">Nepenthe</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtr9QcA0FI/AAAAAAAABNY/ioPxRZwPnps/s1600/P1010097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtr9QcA0FI/AAAAAAAABNY/ioPxRZwPnps/s200/P1010097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542642466538180690" border="0" /></a><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtsd_qIPpI/AAAAAAAABNg/J06xHuHyglY/s1600/P1010098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtsd_qIPpI/AAAAAAAABNg/J06xHuHyglY/s200/P1010098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542643028969668242" border="0" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOttKDizrlI/AAAAAAAABNo/w5MLqBOeNFs/s1600/P1010099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOttKDizrlI/AAAAAAAABNo/w5MLqBOeNFs/s200/P1010099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542643785926946386" border="0" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOttvboL3UI/AAAAAAAABNw/b_Jp1GyFwQ4/s1600/P1010101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOttvboL3UI/AAAAAAAABNw/b_Jp1GyFwQ4/s200/P1010101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542644428047113538" border="0" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtugH-nsqI/AAAAAAAABN4/fv-wXmZmQOA/s1600/P1010100.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOtugH-nsqI/AAAAAAAABN4/fv-wXmZmQOA/s200/P1010100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542645264586093218" border="0" /></a><br />
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I made such good friends there, they offered me a 40% discount on everything. Naaaah. Like it would've made a difference, anyway. At this point in the tour, it started to getting unusually cool. Everyone began to notice. Down the way just a little bit was the <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.henrymiller.org/">Henry Miller Memorial Library</a>. Something akin to a beatnik-era homage/bookstore/performing arts mini-park and gathering place, I loved the warmth and good spirits that permeated the wooden structure. I must go back in the summer when they have outdoor music every week just in front of this tiny library. The library is right up the hill from <a href="http://www.deetjens.com/">Deetjen's</a>, my next overnight port-of-call, and right down the hill (we're talking a few yards) from <a href="http://www.nepenthebigsur.com/">Nepenthe</a>, so it would be easy to make this a whole 3 day event if you start from Monterey, for example, and if you made reservations for the whole thing far enough in advance!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOxsIIOKA6I/AAAAAAAABOM/iKWBr4RRQcs/s1600/P1010102.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOxsIIOKA6I/AAAAAAAABOM/iKWBr4RRQcs/s320/P1010102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542924128287851426" border="0" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Henry Miller Memorial Library</span> (I was a bit apprehensive of taking too many shots inside...)<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOxtqY5D_DI/AAAAAAAABOU/77bGrnpYrr8/s1600/P1010105.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOxtqY5D_DI/AAAAAAAABOU/77bGrnpYrr8/s400/P1010105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542925816389958706" border="0" /></a><br />
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Like I said, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Deetjen's Big Sur Inn</span> was just two shakes of a lamb's tail down the road.<br />
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A dear friend recommended it. It's a pretty special place, indeed. The staff was amazingly nice and helpful. When I told them what my concerns were, we all tried to brain-storm a way to keep me safe and hopefully headed South, but there was no way I could stay anywhere as all rooms, yerts, etc. were taken. And in any case, I would have to "hole up" for several days until the storms blew over. At a minimum of $150 a pop, I liked the idea of going back North and continuing my journey in a totally different way, so I turned around the next morning and on I went... But, first, about the rooms, the smallest are about $90 and change and share a bathroom. The ads say the walls are paper-thin. Uh, they weren't kidding, I felt as though I could have joined in any conversation that came up. But, my room had a fireplace, it's own bathroom, a queen bed and a twin tucked away in its own cozy, little corner. It was appointed with lots of quaint rummage-sale like items, but very tastefully done.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOxv3qDoR0I/AAAAAAAABOc/7FDridHo3Kc/s1600/P1010106.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 147px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOxv3qDoR0I/AAAAAAAABOc/7FDridHo3Kc/s320/P1010106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542928243359237954" border="0" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOxwaTXa91I/AAAAAAAABOk/a1ApYLZzq1g/s1600/P1010107.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOxwaTXa91I/AAAAAAAABOk/a1ApYLZzq1g/s200/P1010107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542928838563657554" border="0" /></a>Nice fireplace, nice comfy bed. Note the broken phonograph to the right of my bicycle. Lots of old vinyl, kinda shame I couldn't hear it...Hey, that's not what I came on this trip for, anyway. Back to the trip: I pored over maps and asked a lot of the locals about what they've heard the forecast was. They all said the same thing, "Rain, lots of it, 3 days!". I had no choice. I didn't have a rain fly, I didn't have a solid place to stay for enough days to wait out the rain. Plus, I would have to be in the rain for at least two days, possibly 3. I even thought of going back to Monterey, staying in the hostel then taking the <span style="font-weight: bold;">bus</span> back to Nepenthe and continuing South. That was pretty crazy, too. So, I concocted this plan of either going up the Carmel Valley to Soledad/Salinas/Watsonville to catch the Amtrak or going out of somewhere further N over the Hecker Pass Road (152) to Gilroy and somehow get home. Well, I quickly realized given the temperature, climbing 1000 ft. might be wicked tough and it might be even snowing up there! Being wet and in freezing temperature wasn't my idea of fun. Been there, done that! So, I decided to go N to Monterey after a good recommendation of a hotel to stay in, the Beachcomber Inn in Pacific Grove, or <span style="font-style: italic;">PG</span> ( as the locals call the town which is just S of Monterey).<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOx3d8MFNqI/AAAAAAAABO4/ipYwUzc01qs/s1600/P1010112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOx3d8MFNqI/AAAAAAAABO4/ipYwUzc01qs/s200/P1010112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542936597642950306" border="0" /></a>Kinda cool lamp in my Deetjen's domicile, "Grandpa's Room".<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOx5tM2V-LI/AAAAAAAABPA/X1927rv6b2w/s1600/P1010114.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOx5tM2V-LI/AAAAAAAABPA/X1927rv6b2w/s200/P1010114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542939058836469938" border="0" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Big Sur Lighthouse Station</span><br />
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........near Carmel<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyAfsgDFvI/AAAAAAAABPQ/FwpITd5MtkI/s1600/P1010116.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyAfsgDFvI/AAAAAAAABPQ/FwpITd5MtkI/s200/P1010116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542946523396118258" border="0" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyA7_HDqbI/AAAAAAAABPY/8hHhTrK6l4s/s1600/P1010118.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyA7_HDqbI/AAAAAAAABPY/8hHhTrK6l4s/s200/P1010118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542947009427909042" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">San Carlos de Borromeo de Carmelo Mission</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">or</span> <a href="http://www.carmelmission.org/">Carmel Mission</a><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyCdEnr7XI/AAAAAAAABPg/c-KDJMYnKt8/s1600/P1010121.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyCdEnr7XI/AAAAAAAABPg/c-KDJMYnKt8/s200/P1010121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542948677354253682" border="0" /></a>I finally got to Pacific Grove at 1 pm, having left Big Sur around 10, but the <a href="http://http//www.montereypeninsulainns.com/">BeachComber Inn</a> didn't open until 3! So I hung out and enjoyed the scenery!<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyDQDUsy7I/AAAAAAAABPo/JylEE9rN4gI/s1600/P1010125.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyDQDUsy7I/AAAAAAAABPo/JylEE9rN4gI/s200/P1010125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542949553179511730" border="0" /></a><br />
The next day, I rolled on through nearby Monterey and onto the bike path which took me all the way through Seaside and Marina. It's a great bike path and remote at times. Perfect. This beach photo was near <span style="font-weight: bold;">Asilomar</span>. It struck me so I stuck my invisible self in the bench, wistfully looking at the crashing waves!<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyEeLNCT5I/AAAAAAAABPw/KlT51AjN6JE/s1600/P1010127.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyEeLNCT5I/AAAAAAAABPw/KlT51AjN6JE/s200/P1010127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542950895324647314" border="0" /></a>I somehow stayed on the bike path too long and took a small detour though Castroville, definitely what I would call a one-horse town, or should I say, one-artichoke town. Castroville proclaims itself as the artichoke capital of the world, with its own <a href="http://www.artichoke-festival.org/">Artichoke Festival</a> and queen, crowned at the festivities in the Spring.<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyFfo7kN2I/AAAAAAAABP4/kSLpWYItsXw/s1600/P1010128.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyFfo7kN2I/AAAAAAAABP4/kSLpWYItsXw/s200/P1010128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542952019995932514" border="0" /></a>They're definitely "big" on artichokes in this area. I saw a few fields, but it was definitely past the season. Most of them had not been cleared and were probably left for fallow for some reason.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyGOj5BEiI/AAAAAAAABQA/EOtWs1q52iM/s1600/P1010132.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyGOj5BEiI/AAAAAAAABQA/EOtWs1q52iM/s200/P1010132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542952826096914978" border="0" /></a>Just past Castroville is Moss Landing, the site of a huge PGE power plant. I had my own "Power Plant" tri-tip sandwich at the produce market/deli/coffee shop across the street!<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyG-J2CpJI/AAAAAAAABQI/wL-HxhZHpoA/s1600/P1010133.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyG-J2CpJI/AAAAAAAABQI/wL-HxhZHpoA/s200/P1010133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542953643738834066" border="0" /></a>Brussels Sprouts, just past Moss Landing<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyHgjfbhEI/AAAAAAAABQQ/Y5v3qRDKCTA/s1600/P1010134.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TOyHgjfbhEI/AAAAAAAABQQ/Y5v3qRDKCTA/s200/P1010134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542954234738869314" border="0" /></a> Strawberries (I didn't eat any as perhaps they were sprayed)....<br />
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At this point in the tour, it began sprinkling and about 10 minutes after this shot was taken, the sky completely clouded over and rain in biblical proportions descended on me. By the time I reached Santa Cruz from Moss Landing, I was hypothermic, dazed, then confused, then torridly sleepy and I no longer cared about how my feet and body really felt. I shortened the trip at Santa Cruz when it began to hail very hard and the cold was no longer bearable and the rain never let up. I'm glad I did this ride. Although I never really found the answers I was looking for, I am glad I looked. It was my first solo bike tour, and for that, I'm glad I did it.Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-33793852480630877302010-11-07T19:29:00.000-08:002010-11-08T14:21:12.573-08:00Dia de los Muertos---Death can be very becoming!The Mission District is where I grew up. It's always been rich in cultural diversity. The "awareness" of the heritage of Mexican and Central American cultures and it's appreciation and marketing of the art is relatively new.<br /><br />On Saturday, November 6, a dear friend and I went to the <a href="http://www.missionculturalcenter.org/">Mission Cultural Center </a>at 2010 Mission St., in San Francisco, near 25th STREET to see the celebration of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Day_of_the_Dead">Dia de los Muertos</a> or the Day of the Dead, which celebrates the memories and lives of those who have passed. There are amazing events going on there frequently and lots of fine restaurants in the area.<br /><br />When I was a wee one, the Center had more arts and crafts and was oriented towards school-kids, now they reach out to lots of adults in their activities. The Center plays a key role in celebrating Dia de los Muertos each year and has been successful in expanding the awareness of this holiday which can be experienced throughout Mexico.<br /><br />The Center always operate on a shoestring financial basis, though you'd never guess it by the caliber of the posters and the facilities.<br /><br />I recommend you save this link and when you're starting to ramp up for Halloween, start checking out their calendar, looking for Nov. 2 as the kick-off day for the procession and festivities they put on with other folks at Harrison Park, nearby in the Mission. It's great. Bring your best camera.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNd82RoeCiI/AAAAAAAABIg/qwKyn0UD08U/s1600/P1010021.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537031538763237922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNd82RoeCiI/AAAAAAAABIg/qwKyn0UD08U/s400/P1010021.JPG" border="0" /></a>I took small pictures of the larger exhibits which honor relatives (usually) or special people, for example, people who may have perished in battle...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNeAWQ4yIeI/AAAAAAAABJA/G8M5ewjmldw/s1600/P1010047.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537035386853925346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNeAWQ4yIeI/AAAAAAAABJA/G8M5ewjmldw/s400/P1010047.JPG" border="0" /></a>But all show a degree of love that is unsurpassed and is not seen anywhere in American culture, as death takes on a completely different context here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNd_p6WQGRI/AAAAAAAABI4/lyk3FqYZVSc/s1600/P1010043.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537034624889264402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNd_p6WQGRI/AAAAAAAABI4/lyk3FqYZVSc/s400/P1010043.JPG" border="0" /></a>Kids make many of the exhibits that honor grandparents, for example.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNd_pkCPiSI/AAAAAAAABIw/Gi1oLVeF4oA/s1600/P1010040.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537034618899761442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNd_pkCPiSI/AAAAAAAABIw/Gi1oLVeF4oA/s400/P1010040.JPG" border="0" /></a>Many of the exhibits have food, grains, candy, mementos....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNd-VMU3ynI/AAAAAAAABIo/Gv0YT4tWovg/s1600/P1010025.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537033169426434674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNd-VMU3ynI/AAAAAAAABIo/Gv0YT4tWovg/s400/P1010025.JPG" border="0" /></a>The doll-like figurines are always happy, whimsical and pretty...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNeEIUIab3I/AAAAAAAABJM/IYb8iK-n6YY/s1600/P1010009.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537039545253130098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/TNeEIUIab3I/AAAAAAAABJM/IYb8iK-n6YY/s400/P1010009.JPG" border="0" /></a>Oh, and did I mention the awesome restaurant we went to afterwards! Something told us it was time for "Mariscada", a seafood plate I had when I traveled solo through Mexico and almost planted myself for good in Merida in the Yucatan peninsula many moons ago! It was really tasty and fresh, another good choice by my dear friend! Great place: <a href="http://www.esperpentorestaurant.com/">Esperpento</a> (known for Spanish Tapas) 3295 22nd St.(at Valencia) (415) 282-8867. Oh, a really righteous Chardonnay went very well with it!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/kevinfoley3/DiaDeLosMuertos1162010#"></a></p>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-81087585512960049842010-09-15T21:48:00.001-07:002011-01-28T10:45:30.773-08:002009 Europe Trip<object name="Slideshow" id="Slideshow" width="425" height="425" align="middle" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"><param name="movie" value="http://www.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshow/Slideshow.swf" /><param name="flashvars" value="configurl=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fshare%2Fexternal_slideshow_config%3Fsid%3D2IZNGrRm0Yu3A" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><embed id="Slideshow" width="425" height="425" name="Slideshow" align="middle" quality="high" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="configurl=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fshare%2Fexternal_slideshow_config%3Fsid%3D2IZNGrRm0Yu3A" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" bgcolor="#869ca7" src="http://www.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshow/Slideshow.swf"></embed></object><p style="width:425px;margin-top:0;text-align:center;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=2IZNGrRm0Yu3A&eid=118">Click here to view these pictures larger</a></p>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-59173165874384951482009-11-25T21:10:00.000-08:002009-11-26T05:49:34.215-08:00Hyderabad<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyderabad,_India">Hyderabad</a> is located in Andhra Pradesh and was a very interesting city, slightly hilly, reminding me a touch of San Francisco, and is very old and rich in history. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charminar">Charminar</a>, a predominantly Muslim area, is completely crowded with people. <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=charminar+hyderabad&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hq=&hnear=Charminar,+Andhra+Pradesh,+India&gl=us&ei=oYUOS_GBNon6MIax_d8C&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CAgQ8gEwAA">Charminar</a> is in the center of the city, and was extremely difficult to get to. When I arrived, it was call to prayers. Having never heard it, the song really put me into a completely different feel for India. Everyone I know is Hindu, Jain, Sikh, or some other sect. On this trip, I met many Muslims. <br /><br />Hyderabad is known for beautiful temples, pearl vendors and strange stone formations which dot the city. Being slightly hilly, and not unlike other old, urban centers, the streets are complicated and extremely crowded for tourists to navigate. I had a driver at all times who never spoke English but a friend helped me to understand the depth and richness of it all. The previous month, Hyderabad opened a new "flyover" which allowed a very quick transit between the airport and areas much closer to where I stayed, the <a href="http://www.hotelgreenpark.com/">Green Park hotel</a>. <br /><br />Hyderabad is the farthest south I've been to in India and as such, some of the cuisine is unique to the area, but not nearly as unique as Gujarati food. <br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fkevinfoley3%2Falbumid%2F5408264039061476705%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-42379205105541825802009-11-25T19:54:00.001-08:002009-11-26T06:12:42.900-08:00DelhiThe second and third legs of this trip were to Delhi (Old Delhi and New Delhi are actually parts of Delhi. The entry to this large, sprawling city is Indira Gandhi International Airport. One thing to remember is that there is a domestic airport and an international airport. When one exits the plane from a domestic flight, to your right, in the terminal building is a counter which says international transfer. It is necessary, if one is flying out of India at this point, to pick one's luggage up at the carousel, even if you're checked all the way through to anywhere, and register for the bus which takes you to the massive international airport. They will dump you off in front of several security checks allowing you into the terminal with your luggage, then you go to your respective airline counter where they hit you with a barrage of security questions. They take this very seriously. Be serious!<br /><br />You'll re-check your bags at this point, re-enter with the your carry-on with a load of other people and do the shoes/laptop/bag and everything else check, emptying pockets, holding jewelry, complete pat-down thing and then go in. There were several security checks that I'm omitting, including another bag check right before you enter the plane! <br /><br />What I'm trying to say is that although I had 3 hours layover, as soon as I arrived domestically I went through all this to international and went through the stuff I mentioned and by that time my flight was boarding. 3 hours turned out to be zero layover. It took all 3 hours to board my plane. Amazing.<br /><br />Delhi is the hub of many large Indian institutions. I got a chance to see the Prime Minister's building and several legislative buildings. It was remarkable how similar to Washington D.C. the capitol area was! Except they allow cars in the area. When I was there it was Children's Day, and many school buses full of kids were in the area as well as the tourist spots.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sw4EH2yMEXI/AAAAAAAAA9c/T4cwu5MLIpI/s1600/PB140031.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sw4EH2yMEXI/AAAAAAAAA9c/T4cwu5MLIpI/s400/PB140031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408264735530160498" /></a><br /><br />Like many Indian metropolises, the traffic is brutal and this limits how much one can see. Fortunately, there are many temples within a few miles of Delhi including the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qutb_Minar">Minar</a>, a huge Muslim minaret which was being swamped by Indian schoolkids from the southernmost regions of India. Additionally, I visited the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lotus_Temple">Lotus Temple</a>, a temple of the Bahai faith.<br /><br />Agra, approximately 250 km away, is the site of the Taj Mahal and was magnificent. It took 3 plus hours to get there and approximately 3.5 hours to return. Several things I noted. The building is not very white anymore, a huge refinery is to blame and was recently retrofitted with scrubbers to remove some of the larger ash/particulate which is being blamed for soiling the Taj. <br /><br />The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taj_Mahal">Taj Mahal</a> is inscribed with the complete Koran (see slide show) and was built in honor of a Mughal Emporer, Shah Jahan's wife. <br /><br />Because of the length of time it takes to get to the Taj Mahal, many people take a bus or better yet, the train to get there and stay overnight. I was only able to walk through the Taj for an hour and a half and was not able to see the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agra_Fort">Red Fort</a>. Upon leaving our vehicle, we were barraged with all sorts of scheme-sters who wanted to escort us around the lines and take us on a tour of the Taj Mahal. This was extremely annoying. The next time, I'll stay overnight and start the visit as early as humanly possible, then leave at the end of the day. <br /><br />Driving back, I noted monkeys <object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TADewwr_8Lg&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TADewwr_8Lg&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>at the top of the buildings, also scheming out the premises for a quick bit, most likely!<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fkevinfoley3%2Falbumid%2F5408268985529642401%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fkevinfoley3%2Falbumid%2F5408260825598307761%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-1007605757418185942009-11-07T03:13:00.000-08:002009-11-07T23:42:35.693-08:00Ahmedabad, IndiaThis week I arrived in a most interesting place in India. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahmedabad">Ahmedabad </a>doesn't have the cachet that Mumbai or Goa does, but it has it's own character which sets it apart. Ahmedabad sits in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gujarat">Gujarat state</a>. It's known for a most unique style, and tastes, in food. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SvVciDkTQkI/AAAAAAAAA4I/IJ3petl8pWA/s1600-h/PB050023.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SvVciDkTQkI/AAAAAAAAA4I/IJ3petl8pWA/s400/PB050023.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401325068243649090" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SvVdGUpRY3I/AAAAAAAAA4Q/ofQ84h_wJ4k/s1600-h/PB060025.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SvVdGUpRY3I/AAAAAAAAA4Q/ofQ84h_wJ4k/s400/PB060025.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401325691303191410" /></a><br />Gujarat has its own language and the makeup of the people are different from other places in India I have been to, as well. Many more Muslim women are seen here. Many more temples are seen, predominantly Hindu. They seem to be everywhere! Little ones, big ones, gaudy ones, pretty obscure ones, where only one person has to get on his knees and poke his head inside to do business, so to speak. On my first night, I went to a very interesting jewelry shop called AB jewelers, in the outskirts of Ahmedabad. The people were amazing who helped me, and the owner just piled on discounts and even took some bangles from another store as credit towards bangles with clasps in them for my daughter! Try getting that sweet deal in the US. During the first day, prior to the abovementioned evening, I went big-time shopping for shawls and a table cloth. Unlike Mumbai and <a href="http://maps.google.co.in/maps?hl=en&source=hp&q=goa+map&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hq=&hnear=Goa&gl=in&ei=FWz2SpqMDJyDkAWyxa2qAw&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CAwQ8gEwAA">Goa</a>, most of the shawls seen are for cold weather and made of Pashmani or <a href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/2940867/Gandhi-the-first-fashion-designer-of-India-and-farmersNaxals">Khadi</a> (wool, cotton). The spelling on the second one is suspect and unfortunately it stands as a very import aspect in India's history. When <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mohandas_Karamchand_Gandhi">MK Gandhi</a>, a practicing attorney, became involved in India's independance from foreign greed merchants and imperialists, cotton factories in India were shutting down as cotton was being brought in and sold to manufacturers to make clothing and other goods in India. This was tough on the Indian peoples, especially the lower class whom <a href="http://www.google.co.in/search?hl=en&q=gandhi&btnG=Search&meta=&aq=null&oq=">Ghandi</a> felt a great affinity for and hence became involved in the politics of the people, e.g. the Dandi strikes, salt tariff intervention and marches and speaking to people around the world. His acts of civil disobedience were emulated, and still are, by visionaries and activists throughout history. So, cotton remains important in Gujarat state as Ghandi stayed in an ashram in Ahmedabad, where a <a href="http://www.gandhiashram.org.in/">historical museum</a> now stands next to the Sabarmati River. See the bottom of this post for a neat slideshow which includes some of the museum. Also, during this visit, some musicians were playing and I included a small clip here.<br /><br /><OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-e121c89148ccc581 height=266 width=320 contentId="e121c89148ccc581"></OBJECT><br /><br />After a true Gujarat lunch, I went to the <a href="http://http://www.swaminarayan.org">Swaminarayan</a> <a href="http://http://www.akshardham.com/">Akshardham</a> in Ghandinagar where there is an amazing temple and what I can only call a cult-based theme park, but inside. For 50 INR, you go inside past many, many dioramas which describe this famous leader of this following and his life. These dioramas and audiovisual stands and short movies are total top notch quality. But the real treat was yet to come. They have a full blown giant movie theatre after 10 or 15 dioramas and 2 smaller theatres where you also see introductory presentations. This movie, lasting about an hour, in Hindi, is Hollywood quality. The music and cinematography was off the hook. Unfortunately, like many religious sites, they don't allow any recording equipment, in fact, they frisk you and make you remove everything from your pockets. They don't let you bring in big purses or bags of any kind. Also, they don't let you bring in cell phones. They are serious about this stuff at this place. Don't even try because they have signs saying they'll fine you 100INR and "escort" you out of the premises. Whoa. Anyway, the movie depicts the early years of Neelkanth Vardi, an 11 year old yogi who walked 12,000 km throughout India, teaching yoga on a pilgrimage which depicts mystic India beautifully. This was worth it, even if you don't speak Hindi!<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fkevinfoley3%2Falbumid%2F5401328146436303585%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br /><br />Also, during this trip, I went to three Jain temples with my new friend Neeta who helped me buy the bangles. Since the company that I was working with knew I was into the religions, they arrange for me to see an <a href="http://http://www.iskconahmedabad.net/download.htm">ISKCON</a> temple as well! Again, since no photography is allowed inside, I took some pics outside, with my shoes on! Note to whoever goes to temples, wear slip-on shoes!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SvVjLRALoUI/AAAAAAAAA64/zwZJPkVzQF8/s1600-h/PB070063.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SvVjLRALoUI/AAAAAAAAA64/zwZJPkVzQF8/s400/PB070063.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401332373294653762" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SvVjAp-sZfI/AAAAAAAAA6w/UuDHSV2EGP8/s1600-h/PB070062.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SvVjAp-sZfI/AAAAAAAAA6w/UuDHSV2EGP8/s400/PB070062.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401332191020738034" /></a>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-34595468571562592222009-10-19T14:13:00.000-07:002009-10-19T14:21:56.598-07:00just when you thought....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/StzYUKmU3aI/AAAAAAAAA24/h8iTLrh1J5g/s1600-h/fall+rain+007.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/StzYUKmU3aI/AAAAAAAAA24/h8iTLrh1J5g/s400/fall+rain+007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394424294637100450" /></a><br />The nicest things are sometimes surprises. My daughter and I were so surprised when this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLZt8rEfsF4">rain</a> came down, then it came down stronger and stronger!<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy3Ay_xfKEN3Z_9KQyJMAL5gvZ2XjVcGg8CCQ0ZB-6m_Qoyj7PpB04uxbhxy2oJ0JyuuQHdNqMJT-I' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-82744295459555964732009-10-17T23:50:00.000-07:002019-05-28T13:41:25.092-07:00Someone saved my life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Stq9kXMNq4I/AAAAAAAAA2w/fmeZ3GssHaQ/s1600-h/PA130001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Stq9kXMNq4I/AAAAAAAAA2w/fmeZ3GssHaQ/s400/PA130001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393831936127773570" border="0" /></a><br />Sometimes you just get lucky, no matter what life you lead. Sometimes the gods look upon you and give you a little help when you'd never dream it possible. Infrequently, it may happen when life has become so twisted and perverse that there is no easy regress. For me, it was just another ordinary day, really, filled with anxiety for months until a few days prior. Up until then, no one could convince me that my life was not complete enough-because I would routinely deny it. It's what they would want to hear. I don't want to own up to building something that I didn't want just to please others, especially family...<br /><br />Any mistakes I made in designing this ordinary world of mine were mine and I was destined to slowly destroy my creative side for the greater good. Not sad, just practical.<br /><br />Throughout my walk, each day I have felt I have never been very alone physically, because I have always wanted someone near me. However, I have felt horribly <span style="font-weight: bold;">lonely</span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span> since the age of 20 or so. Though practical in those choices which others would and did approve, I have been horribly stupid in those that nourish my soul.<br /><br />The result of this has eeked damage through chipping away at my life's dreams, but like the "Logical Song" said, making me very clinical, or logical, in the eyes of others.<br /><br />These feelings are not functions of earth-shaking phenomena, it's common in people with some modicum of creativity. Creative folks walk a path thinking about this and that and it's only until one expresses one's self that we are actively doing something about this range of feelings, often melancholy, sometimes clinical in scope.<br /><br />When my creativity reached beyond my soul and touched another, that is when I've expressed myself the greatest, when I've been the most content. Sometimes, you just get lucky. Someone saved my life tonight, Oct. 16, 2009.Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-28685979289974647362009-10-06T19:17:00.000-07:002009-10-06T20:11:25.169-07:00These are a few of my favorite things<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Ssv8SeOD_jI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/FMtPdG-Om6E/s1600-h/Outside_room.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Ssv8SeOD_jI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/FMtPdG-Om6E/s400/Outside_room.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389678773358820914" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The road reaching up to greet me</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Ssv9I1yTQ3I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/JKcBTz3yBWw/s1600-h/ry%253D400.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Ssv9I1yTQ3I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/JKcBTz3yBWw/s400/ry%253D400.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389679707397768050" /></a><span style="font-weight:bold;">Salzburg</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SswGFkJCyFI/AAAAAAAAA2g/XxK517H0byU/s1600-h/Paris.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SswGFkJCyFI/AAAAAAAAA2g/XxK517H0byU/s400/Paris.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389689546726361170" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Paris</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SswGkENY4QI/AAAAAAAAA2o/xt_rvHT-9GM/s1600-h/0523070631a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SswGkENY4QI/AAAAAAAAA2o/xt_rvHT-9GM/s400/0523070631a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389690070730596610" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The halfway point of my commute</span>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-81991199238776058272009-10-05T21:15:00.000-07:002019-05-28T13:41:25.007-07:00My road never taken<span style="font-weight:bold;">What I miss a lot</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/1976-triumph-bonneville-01.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 236px;" src="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/1976-triumph-bonneville-01.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I used to go down to Golden Gate Cycles on Valencia when I was ages 14 through 17 and sit in front of the Triumphs with my sketchbook. I loved it. I loved the chrome, the style, the sound of it. My friend had a Kawasaki and Honda 4. Another friend had a Norton Commando which I loved, but the Triumph, to me, was kindred spirit, so I loved it nonetheless. As I got older, I had the opportunity to ride a Triumph Bonneville and the Norton. I've been given a Honda, a Harley and one day, a friend wanted me to have a Triumph of his which he rebuilt. I so desperately wanted it, but I was forced to make one promise on the condition of marriage: that I would never ride a motorcycle. And so it stands. My love for it stands at a distance, like the sweater that you want so much but will never have, that thin Omega watch that you see, but never can, like that little country on the globe you want to visit, but accept that you may never see. This was the motorcycle of my dreams, where it will forever stay.Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-29674990118160647322009-10-03T23:16:00.000-07:002009-10-04T15:13:30.400-07:00ChengduThe last week of my trip to this fascinating country was to Sichuan Province, landing in Chengdu. This city used to be the gateway to Nepal, and many Nepalese and Tibetans live here still. Landing here, I was greeted by Zach. We would become friends and Zach did more to reveal what China is like than anyone else.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SshAWU3r1rI/AAAAAAAAAmM/0x6X73HmPeI/s1600-h/IMGP0169.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SshAWU3r1rI/AAAAAAAAAmM/0x6X73HmPeI/s320/IMGP0169.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388627706452367026" /></a><br />We wasted little time that day; he gave me half an hour before whisking me away from the airport to see the Stone Garden.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">The beginning of my short jaunt<br /> off the decaf wagon with green tea</span> <br />Now, unfortunately, Zach is not a professional tour guide, so I never learned the background of anywhere we went...sort of typical for anyone, Chinese or American, of his generation. Hey, if I had computers in the 70's, I'd be the same. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SshBAYvxb-I/AAAAAAAAAmU/P45K9a-3Zw4/s1600-h/IMGP0158.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SshBAYvxb-I/AAAAAAAAAmU/P45K9a-3Zw4/s320/IMGP0158.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388628429047427042" /></a><br />Downtown Chengdu is a busy place, the entire city is 8-10 million people, somewhat larger than Shanghai (15 million) and significantly more than Changchun (4 million people). <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SshBsXRdrVI/AAAAAAAAAmc/FyGMeHoben8/s1600-h/deyang+city+007.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SshBsXRdrVI/AAAAAAAAAmc/FyGMeHoben8/s320/deyang+city+007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388629184566111570" /></a><br />The air is horrible, sort of beige, sort of white, but pasty. Yuk. Zach told me it's because the city is in a large basin, trapping the bad air.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At the time we were there, it was rice harvest season. Everywhere we went, people dried rice. On the highway, in driveways, on the little road next to the plant, everywhere!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SshC_Zg0_vI/AAAAAAAAAmk/fMuk4-UICXY/s1600-h/P9100071.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SshC_Zg0_vI/AAAAAAAAAmk/fMuk4-UICXY/s320/P9100071.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388630611096567538" /></a><br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fkevinfoley3%2Falbumid%2F5388803711358553313%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCIOwnP_gvs_tTQ%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-73968327029368922952009-10-03T13:21:00.000-07:002009-10-04T09:33:40.720-07:00Suzhou, Jiangsu ProvinceI can't say I was unhappy to leave the Jilin. The acidic, sourness to many of the foods I had was a little difficult for me. I found the area to be less hospitable, certainly not the tourist mecca of Beijing or Shanghai.<br /><br />Looking outside the plane, I can see we must have traveled through North Korean airspace, if not USSR as I soon saw the ocean as we turned right and headed down the Chinese coast and made a long, slow, low approach towards Shanghai.<br /><br />Unlike many of my trips, I was greeted by a driver, rather than a firm representative. Although he did not speak English, we communicated quickly and efficiently, and off to the hotel we went.<br /><br />The next day was spent in Shanghai! Magnificent. It reminded me of New York or some great city. Unlike them, walking is not amenable. One must have transport. Fortunately, we had a professional driver who took us to Xiantandi, the Oriental Pearl, the Jade Buddha, the Bund....all the usual tourist haunts.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Oriental Pearl</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse4t6zZHcI/AAAAAAAAAag/Nv9Ai4egXqE/s1600-h/IMGP0034.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse4t6zZHcI/AAAAAAAAAag/Nv9Ai4egXqE/s320/IMGP0034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388478578190523842" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Temple of the Jade Buddha</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse515XuevI/AAAAAAAAAao/YOMwQ72zs6w/s1600-h/IMGP0017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse515XuevI/AAAAAAAAAao/YOMwQ72zs6w/s320/IMGP0017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388479814756629234" border="0" /></a><br />Suzhou, outside of Shanghai, is where I spent most of my time. It's so interesting. It's a whole city based on business, and not just any Chinese business, but high-end, high-international manufacturing, etc. business. A whole city based on a business park! Enormously huge Fujifilm factory (I wondered if it was still functioning), a fantastic long parkway with gigantic, interesting sculptures interspersed along the way broke up the sterility. Large buildings labeled in gigantic letters "TOILET" made things clear! The thing about these parkways, they were crystal clean, manicured, freshly painted and neatly arranged-----probably 5 - 10 miles of business parkway, finally leading into downtown Suzhou.<br /><br />The thing about China is you know for sure what the greatest natural resources is, it's on two feet and has two hands. Everything is looked after, everything seems to be tended to, 24/7, rain or shine. No kidding. No unions here, that's for sure. It sometimes seems if you keel over on the job, they'll sweep your carcass away quickly to make way for the next guy! Perhaps not, but I wouldn't be surprised.<br /><br />Suzhou is known for it's "Walking Street" and "Bar Street", no doubt these are idiotic names made up by Westerners (large numbers of them here) as a substitute for the Chinese name.<br /><br />Suzhou has canals running through it, by which, in olden times, people traveled by long boats. Suzhou is lovingly called, the "Venice of China", but this is mostly for tourists. Note, when I say tourists, these are 99% Chinese tourists.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Suzhou</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse63kSQ6FI/AAAAAAAAAaw/OEAWQA-pv0U/s1600-h/IMGP0038.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse63kSQ6FI/AAAAAAAAAaw/OEAWQA-pv0U/s320/IMGP0038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388480942967941202" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Suzhou, the Venice of China</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse8YPot0gI/AAAAAAAAAa4/BN8znGwZeqo/s1600-h/IMGP0138.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse8YPot0gI/AAAAAAAAAa4/BN8znGwZeqo/s320/IMGP0138.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388482603872276994" border="0" /></a><br />The language here is termed, "Suzhou-nese", vs. "Shanghai-ese"...I found them distinct and differentiable.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Like in many parts of China, one can easily find humor in the translation of what should be the mundane!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse-b3QiKLI/AAAAAAAAAbA/R8MihVtGOdA/s1600-h/IMGP0143.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/Sse-b3QiKLI/AAAAAAAAAbA/R8MihVtGOdA/s320/IMGP0143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388484865071130802" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fkevinfoley3%2Falbumid%2F5388491091691089249%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCPKUwZui69PaDg%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-83540704550002349292009-09-14T23:08:00.000-07:002009-10-03T22:09:21.939-07:00Jilin Province, NorthWest ChinaI was in Austria when I got an email from a co-worker asking if I was ready for China. Huh? I frantically looked through my assignment spreadsheet and searched for my name. Yep. China. Holy Cow. Most investigators hate the thought of going there. As it turned out, it’s not easy.<br /><br />Several weeks later, my trip planner had received my visa application and “invitation letters” had been processed and my flight plans said I was flying into 3 different cities in three provinces, first up, Changchun in Jilin Province, second, Suzhou in Jiangsu Province, and third, Chengdun in Sichuan Province. My first stopover: Beijing! Cool.<br /><br />That first connection into China meant I was to go through the H1N1 gauntlet. Fortunately, I didn't have a sniffle to me, as I'd heard of entire planes being quarantined with someone showing up positive for the virus. I'd heard they have you open your mouth and shoot a low-intensity laser at your mouth to get your temp. Uh, no. Instead, they had me walk through a gateway-sort-of-thingy. Green! Yeah.<br /><br />After 12+ hours and the connection through Beijing, arguably one of the more architecturally attractive airport hubs I've been through, I was glad to see a face with a sign with my name on it in Changchun airport.<br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jilin_City">Jilin City</a> was strangely quiet on arrival. It was only 11:30pm and hardly any lights were still on. Usually, big city buildings are on, no? Oh well, my host helped me at the desk, a very grandiose hotel. Very, hmmm, Chinese? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLgK1c_4CI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/YWodu9W0_fM/s1600-h/IMGP0812.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLgK1c_4CI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/YWodu9W0_fM/s320/IMGP0812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387114581040554018" border="0" /></a>Jilin City turned out to have very little sights to see in the rain the next day. So, my host and a friend picked me up and we went to the Songhua Lake. Along the way, a motor cyclist paced us and yelled at our driver for about a ½ mile, in the rain. Huh? Are we getting pulled over? Am I going to end up in a provincial jail? No. The motorcyclist turned out to be some guy trying to get us go to a nearby restaurant! It felt like forever before he broke off the chase. Whew.<br /><br />After paying twice to get to Songhua Lake, the super-loud blasting of a Mandarin voice screaming over a poorly modulated PA system put me on edge. I could see I was really at my host’s mercy. The voice turned out to be trivial. Ok, whatever.<br /><br />We scooted down a muddy little hill in the light, warm mist on dirty carpets onto a narrow plank onto a long boat, sort of a water taxi which would lead us for about an hour and a half around Songhua Lake. The humidity and temperate conditions, maybe in high 60’s wasn’t too bad.<br /><br />Jessie, my host, told me the houses or hotels were for government officials. Workers of these type receive very privileged “perks”. More about that later.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLg2btnUzI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/zY-Hk5MrMGw/s1600-h/IMGP0792.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLg2btnUzI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/zY-Hk5MrMGw/s320/IMGP0792.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387115330045170482" border="0" /></a>After the marine fuel-laced air I was breathing, I was more than happy to do anything different. The trip was very boring. The first photos or images spoke it all, perhaps my hosts just didn’t know much about it all. We went to lunch at a local area. Our driver took us to a restaurant that was down a little dirt road, and around a corner and tucked in what seemed more like a cross between an agricultural area, failed business park and, I dunno, the zoning just didn’t make too much sense to me. The lunch was great. I asked for decaffeinated coffee. The wait-staff had no inkling what I was asking for. My hosts went scurrying around and left me for about 10 minutes while I took more pictures of the jungle-like setting inside the restaurant. Oh, it seemed like it took about 15 minutes to pick out the items we wanted to be cooked from a set of refrigerated open shelf-like thingies. I enjoyed seeing the choices of my first, real Chinese meal. Anyway, my hosts returned with a few packets of caffeinated coffee, sugar and milk for me! I was surprised, but I shouldn’t have been, I was told in the US that they will move Heaven and Earth to appease me. My co-worker was right.<br /><br />When we were finished, the waitress brought us a set of “receipts”. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLXKFiVV4I/AAAAAAAAAZI/iRgagM0cxeU/s1600-h/IMGP0809.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLXKFiVV4I/AAAAAAAAAZI/iRgagM0cxeU/s320/IMGP0809.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387104672573380482" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It turns out these are a way for the government to get restaurants to pay their taxes. Listen to this. The restaurant must request the receipts, say blocks of different denominations, from the government. They pay for them, that’s the tax. So, why should they? The customer must also “ask” for the receipt from the restaurant. So, why should they? Well, there’s a little scratch-off strip that allows them to “win” a few yuan, say up to a 100 (rare) and as few as 5 or 10 yuan (less rare), which they get in cash from the restaurant. The gov’t reimburses the restaurant for the winnings. The gov’t gets the “tax” and the restaurant gets to pay the tax while the customer gets a few yuan if they win. Uh, whatever. Oh, yeah, during this trip, one dollar is equal to 7 yuan, or as they call it, RMB, the national currency. The meal consisted of many dishes, the total was less than 50 yuan!!!! Holy cow! I really wished they had let me pay for it all, but this would be a fruitless battle for the entire trip, again, exactly as my co-workers had warned me.<br /><br />The inspection began the next day. As this blog will not venture into the work-side of my life, those details are left unsaid. Outside of my hotel, the next day, I saw these cannons, sprayed painted and phony. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLYTMAlZFI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/8cJmdvUyBcw/s1600-h/IMGP0811.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLYTMAlZFI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/8cJmdvUyBcw/s320/IMGP0811.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387105928441324626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A few weeks later I learned the whole country was getting ready for “National Day”. It would be the 60th anniversary of the Cultural Revolution which strengthened the rule of the Communist Party. Cool.<br /><br />That night we went for a hot pot meal and a nice walk along the hugely long waterfront of Jilin City. It was like Vegas, baby! Neon, fireworks and these balloons which people bought from vendors along the waterfront. I bought this one. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLZFeqfroI/AAAAAAAAAZc/ExfrbGSgYOU/s1600-h/IMGP0824.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLZFeqfroI/AAAAAAAAAZc/ExfrbGSgYOU/s320/IMGP0824.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387106792442408578" border="0" /></a>What you do is buy it and the guy opens it up and keeps the mouth of the mini-hot air balloon open with a wire frame which also holds a little, highly flammable “Sterno” candle. We hold it up and allow the candle to heat the air until the balloon opens up with enough hot air to take it up, up and away until it floats high up in the sky, over the river and towards other buildings and the rest of the city! We watch the little army of balloons take off, each with a wish written on it, then slowly disappear. I don’t think this would “fly” in the US.<br /><br />This was a Sunday night. My hosts informed me each Sunday they show these Chinese soap operas on a floating LED billboard, alternatively showing ads for Snow beer, the national Bud of China, it turned out. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLbU22JJeI/AAAAAAAAAZs/LT-l8vUyGfQ/s1600-h/IMGP0831.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLbU22JJeI/AAAAAAAAAZs/LT-l8vUyGfQ/s320/IMGP0831.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387109255655007714" border="0" /></a>I had to keep reminding myself, well, that’s not entirely true, that China is still a one-party country. Billboards reminded me that the TV and media are run by the government.<br /><br />China is a very crowded country, but rich with history and it seemed very busy at daytime.<br /><br />The last day of the inspection was not as long, unlike all the other days, where I would get home between 7:30 and 11:50 at night. I was not unhappy to leave by the end of the week.<br /><br />While taking the pictures seen below, in front of the company, I heard a voice saying something over and over again. It sounded very melodic, but definitely recorded. It turned out to be someone selling cold noodles, announcing it for the entire province to hear! It really was unusual to concentrate on my work while hearing this. I wanted to know more. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLZ2NLAQBI/AAAAAAAAAZk/hD0gL9WvK-Y/s1600-h/IMGP0844.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nXmitaCXsPs/SsLZ2NLAQBI/AAAAAAAAAZk/hD0gL9WvK-Y/s320/IMGP0844.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387107629560512530" border="0" /></a> I wanted to taste those noodles. I wanted to see what else was there. But I was not the tourist, I was here for my country! The company even raised a flag to denote that!<br /><br />After this long day, I went for another little walk along the waterfront before a hugely strong thunderstorm set in. It drizzled while I walked and looked for little trinkets to bring back. I saw a group of folks dancing in a large square near some vendors, many with scarves and later fans in rhythmic motion. It was like a Chinese version of the Japanese “Obon” dance! Cool. I kept walking, wanting to reach the river, but the rain got stronger. I walked back to the hotel and got to a set of little food vendors on bicycles on the corner. These vendors have what turned out to be a little restaurant with stove, table, little stools, umbrella and storage, all on a bike! I ducked into a store and bought what looked like a Fanta but turned out to be an Energy drink. Yuck. Bad call. Just outside was a little place selling what looked to be kabobs but turned out to be bony, low-meat duck necks for 2 Yuan each! Next to it was another (yes, all in the rain) vendor selling corn on the cobs. I tried to tip her but she kept giving it back to me until she relented and finally just gave me an extra corn. This was my last meal in Jilin City. Breakfasts were particular to the region and not easily explained. Many components are acidic, sour and somewhat spicy. After a few days, I started skipping breakfast, as it seemed too much like an appetizer and I was quickly feeling moribund with the weight I was gaining. So, I bid adieu to Changchun and Northern China, and thanks to my hosts who graciously hoisted my nation's flag.<br /><br />Next stop, Shanghai!<br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fkevinfoley3%2Falbumid%2F5386056169970008929%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCLOnxPqd0-iwbQ%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="400" height="267"></embed>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7273471.post-55789657294775372572009-01-28T10:49:00.000-08:002011-01-28T11:37:44.035-08:00Scotland-Austria-France 2009<object name="Slideshow" id="Slideshow" width="425" height="425" align="middle" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"><param name="movie" value="http://www.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshow/Slideshow.swf" /><param name="flashvars" value="configurl=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fshare%2Fexternal_slideshow_config%3Fsid%3D2IZNGrRm0Yu3A" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><embed id="Slideshow" width="425" height="425" name="Slideshow" align="middle" quality="high" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="configurl=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fshare%2Fexternal_slideshow_config%3Fsid%3D2IZNGrRm0Yu3A" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" bgcolor="#869ca7" src="http://www.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshow/Slideshow.swf"></embed></object><p style="width:425px;margin-top:0;text-align:center;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=2IZNGrRm0Yu3A&eid=118">Click here to view these pictures larger</a></p>Kevin Foleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18079689892378709455noreply@blogger.com0