Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

The Road Trip to Pittsburgh.

Tuesday, August 2nd, 2016

Just over a couple of weeks ago, I embarked on a road trip to Pittsburgh. My friend Bob is originally from Pittsburgh and he was to be my trusty guide covering 1200 miles in the space of four days. Travelling north on the first day from Atlanta, we drove 440 miles to our first destination, Lewisburg, West Virginia. We booked into our hotel for the night and were surprised next morning at breakfast to be surrounded by a plethora of Red Cross workers. We soon realized they were relief workers cleaning up after  the severe flooding that engulfed West Virginian the previous week.

We drove the short distance to the Greenbrier Hotel to take a tour of “The Bunker” which lived underneath the West Wing of this gargantuan hotel comprising 700 guest rooms. The former US Government Relocation facility was a top secret of the Cold War designed to accommodate both the US Senate and House of Representatives in the event of a national emergency.

Planned by the Eisenhower Administration, in cooperation with the leadership of the United States Congress, the facility was built under the Greenbrier  between 1958 and 1961. Once completed, it was maintained in a state of constant readiness by a small cadre of government employees.

The secrecy of its location was maintained for more than 30 years until May 1992 when The Washington Post  published a story effectively exposing it. The day after the story was published, the facility was declassified and phased out by July 1995.  It was finally opened to the public as an historic museum as an artifact of the Cold War. Included in the facility are 44 separate locations with 153 rooms comprising a total of 112, 544 sq. feet on two levels.

We continued our journey to Pittsburgh to pick up the cable car on the 138 year old incline which afforded us a panoramic view over the city. Once dominated by steel mills along the “Three Rivers,” downtown has been transformed into a modern city appropriate for the 21st Century.

Hunger pangs were beginning to take their toll, and we headed for The Church Brew Works which is a restaurant and brewery rolled into one. Nestled in the historic  neighborhood of Lawrenceville, The award winning CBW opened in 1996 as the first and only Brew Pub in the country to be located in a historic church.

The original Douglas Fir floors, stained glass windows and hand-painted cypress ceiling were all painstakingly renovated to showcase their original beauty, providing a unique and memorable dining and drinking experience.

The second day had provided magical moments for one who was new to the City of Pittsburgh, and we were happy and content to retire to our hotel for a good night’s rest in readiness for what next day’s adventures had in store.

We were up bright and early the next morning, and having consumed a nondescript breakfast at the Comfort Suites Hotel, we drove to Canton, Ohio to visit the NFL Hall of Fame. The Hall of Fame experience is like a Disney Park for adults. The exhibit rooms were awash with jerseys and artifacts from NFL legends, Super Bowl rings, and my favorite, busts of every NFL Hall of Famer. As a fan of the Atlanta Falcons, I was dismayed to discover that only one Falcon, Claude Humphreys, has been inducted in their fifty year history, whereas Bob’s team, the Pittsburgh Steelers have 19 players inducted in the Hall of Fame. I guess 5 Super Bowl wins deserve some recognition.

We returned to Pittsburgh for an early dinner at Station Square before attending a Pittsburgh Pirate game. We found a cute restaurant, Bar Louie,  with a patio area along the river. We had luckily stumbled on happy hour, and wine and appetizers were half price and draft beer was $1.25!!!! In contrast a similar beer would later cost $11 at the ball park.

Bob dragged me from Louie’s kicking and screaming, and we boarded a paddle steamer to transport us across the river to the fairly new baseball stadium (PNC Park.) Unfortunately the night didn’t end on the brightest of notes with the Pirates losing 4-8 to the Milwaukee Brewers in a very slow contest.

On our last day, we had breakfast at a Park’N’Eat restaurant, where Bob had worked many years ago as a short order cook. The nostalgia continued for Bob as  we drove around the neighborhood where he was born and raised. He also caddied at a local golf course as a young teenager, but sadly the club went into bankruptcy a few years ago, and the course was almost unrecognizable since mother nature had reclaimed it.

Continuing the golf theme, we stopped for a few minutes at Oakmont Country Club where the US Open had been held in June and won in decisive fashion by Dustin Johnson.  Oakmont has hosted the US Open nine times, more than any other course. Some of the notable winners include Ben Hogan, Jack Nicklaus, Ernie Els, and Johnny Miller shot a course record 63 in the final round in 1973 to capture the Open crown.

We eventually headed for our final destination on the itinerary. Fallingwater , one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s most widely acclaimed works was designed in 1935 for the family of Pittsburgh department store owner Edgar. J. Kaufmann Sr.

The key to the setting of the house is the waterfall over which it is built. Wright designed the house to rise above  the waterfall, rather than face it. Fallingwater was constructed of sandstone quarried on the property, and serves to separate reinforced concrete “trays” dramatically cantilevered over the stream. It is the only major Wright work to come into the public domain with its setting, original furnishings and artwork intact.

Sadly our journey was nearing its conclusion, and we returned to Pittsburgh where we had reservations at The Hampton Inn, close to the Airport in readiness for my flight home to Atlanta. The next morning I caught the hotel shuttle to the Delta terminal taking home a host of wonderful memories. Meanwhile Bob continued his journey to his final destination in Boston. It had been an unforgettable trip and I’m sincerely grateful to Bob for organizing the itinerary, plotting out the route, making the hotel reservations, and sharing his  wealth of local knowledge with me.

Thanks also to our Sponsors: Eat_N_Park, Sheetz, and Bob Evans

Asheville, Hush Puppies and Meltdown

Monday, July 4th, 2016

 

We spent a pleasant weekend in early April in Asheville, South Carolina which coincided with the weekend of the Masters, but more of that later. We reserved a two night stay at the Engardine Inn situated on the outskirts of Asheville. The owners had done a terrific job in restoration. Built in 1885, it was oozing in charm and nostalgia from a bygone age, accompanied by creaking doors, creaking floors and a creaking bed. Well, my joints have a tendency to creak these days so I fitted right in.

We arrived a day early in Asheville and we booked into the Downtown Inn situated at the heart of Asheville. What do they say about valuable property? Location, location, location………. and it was convenient for the bars and restaurants that Asheville had to offer. But why did I come away with the inert impression I had spent the night at an army barracks complete with a drill sergeant on reception?

Members of our family and well intentioned friends had recommended we visit the Biltmore House and Estate and the Grove Park Inn during our visit. Biltmore Estate is a large (8,000 acre) private estate and tourist attraction in Asheville. Biltmore House, the main house on the estate, is a Chateauesque-styled mansion built by George Vanderbilt between 1889 and 1895 and is the largest privately owned house in the United States, at 178,926 square feet  of floor space (135,280 square feet  of living area). Still owned by one of Vanderbilt’s descendants, it stands today as one of the most prominent remaining examples of the Gilded Age.

Admission was $65 each which I thought was rather pricey. The audio tour is an extra $20 and a “behind the scenes tour” is another $20 which is extortionate. We breezed through the house and headed for the extensive landscaped gardens. This was far from the madding crowds and much more relaxing.

Darwin Hybrid Tulip varieties were blooming in the Walled Garden and Estate Entry. Other blooms at this time of the year included early flowering shrubs and trees, forsythia, spirea, magnolia, and flowering cherries. We ended the day with some wine tasting and purchased a few bottles to take home.

We were also advised not to miss out on the Grove Park Inn, which is an historic resort hotel built in 1913 on the western-facing slope of Sunset Mountain within the Blue Ridge Mountains. The hotel is an example of the Arts and Crafts style of architecture. I have never heard of that type of architecture before, but no matter.

The hotel was built of rough granite stones and the expansive lobby is noted for its enormous granite fireplaces and expansive porch with its scenic overlook. It was advertised as having “walls five feet thick of granite boulders.” Unfortunately, two monolithic rear wings were added in  1958 and 1963 (the wonderful era of architecture) respectively which destroy the scale and character of the original building. But hey, money is money.

It was Sunday, the last day of the Masters, and we had returned from a long but enjoyable day of sighseeing, eating and drinking. I switched on the TV and Jordan Spieth was leading the tournament by 5 shots entering the 12th tee. In the blink of an eye he managed to score a 7 on the  Par 3 hole, and the tournament slipped through his fingers and won by a little known Englishman, Danny Willett who commendably shot a 67 in the last round. So much for the much vaunted new “Big Three,” Spieth, Day and McIlroy.

We didn’t feel like driving back into Asheville for dinner, so we found a “hole-in-the-wall” barbecue joint, called Frankie’s, bought a takeaway, and returned to the guest house where we feasted on ribs, pulled pork and grilled chicken washed down with a bottle of Malbec; serenely  sitting outside on the balcony of the guest house watching the world go by in the cool of the evening. As we pulled out of Frankie’s 10 minutes earlier, the cashier came tearing out the front door screaming: “Hey stop; y’all forgotten your hush puppies!!!!”

On the way home, we made a detour to Dupont Falls. I’ve seen more dramatic waterfalls, but these have gained notoriety as they were used as a location in the “Hunger Games” movies. I haven’t seen them either, but my wife is a great fan.

 

 

Ice And Slice?

Tuesday, May 17th, 2016

My wife was flying to London on a business trip last week, and I tagged along for the ride to catch up with children and grand children. I kept a diary of events for posterity purposes:

Saturday (April 30:) My wife had an assigned seat in punters’ class, and I was on the standby list, but fortunate to be assigned a seat in business class. The trip was off to a splendid beginning, and fingers were crossed that the good fortune would continue.

Sunday: We touched down at Heathrow 71/2 hours later. I was quite refreshed having managed a few hours shut eye, but my wife resembled a rag doll suffering from sleep deprivation. We were staying at The Aviator Hotel in Farnborough approximately 20 miles from Heathrow. It has a ultra modern design favored by the business elite, but I do dispute the need for subdued lighting, reception located on the first floor and a mundane grey décor. We caught up with my son, grandson and granddaughter a couple of hours later and watched in awe as the Swans put Liverpool Juniors to the sword, winning 3-1. We had lunch at the Wyvern, Aldershot and dinner at an Indian restaurant in Farnham. In between we put our theatrical grandson through his paces as a budding goalkeeper at a local park.

Monday: I said my goodbyes to my wife who was now in business mode. It was such a lovely, sunny day and my son and I entertained my grandchildren at the local park where my grandson negotiated the assault course with great dexterity.  Meanwhile, my granddaughter tripped and fell running back and fore the house causing a bump the size of an egg to appear on her forehead. She recovered relatively quickly following cuddles from her dad.

My son and I headed for Aldershot to watch the Monday Night game between Spurs and Chelsea at a local hostelry, The Green King which was preceded by eating dubious Italian cuisine at” Frankies and Bennies.” I didn’t realize until late in the game that the pub was a Chelsea supporters haven which explained why I was the only one celebrating Spurs’ two goal advantage at half time. The place erupted when Hazard scored Chelsea’s equalizer near the end, and I meekly exited stage right lamenting yet another Spurs capitulation which generously gave the title to Leicester City.

Tuesday: While my wife was waiting for a taxi to transport her and  colleagues to the office for another series of meetings I was on my way to play golf with an old friend at the Manor House Golf Club, Castlecombe nestled in the heart of the exquisite Cotswolds. The weather couldn’t have been better, the shot making was generally a delight, but the scoring was in need of a transplant. We finished off the afternoon’s great entertainment with a beer and sandwich at the Salutation Inn.

Wednesday: My grandson had returned to school (Monday was a Bank Holiday,) and as the weather was on its best behavior,  we decided to have lunch at the Prince of Wales Pub where my granddaughter could attempt to build sand castles and make new friends in the play area. The children were excited to see the hotel room particularly the chiq bathroom. Curiosity got the better of them and my grandson took a brief but involuntary  shower fully clothed creating mayhem while his sister squealed with delight. Dinner was partaken at the Brewers Fayre where we bid farewell to the grand children before embarking on the second leg of our trip. We enjoyed a night cap with my son at the Faulkner Arms, and returned to the Aviator.

Thursday: The fine weather continued unabated. My wife was free of the shackles of Corporate America, and we began the four hour journey in glorious sunshine to Devon along the A30 passing Stonehenge as an added bonus. I was looking forward to a few more relaxing days with family when the grandchild jinx struck again.

We drove down to the seafront for a couple of drinks to enjoy the unusual splendid weather England was enjoying at this time. My son-in-law and I were buying the drinks and my daughter went outside carrying my 3 year old grandson. Unfortunately she tripped on the threshold; falling  to her knees while gallantly  attempting to save my grandson.

My grandson, however, fell flat on his face, followed by earth shattering screams. We rushed outside to find my daughter clutching her son both of whom were covered in blood. It was my grandson’s blood that had been spilled, bleeding profusely from his lip which in instant was so swollen it would have done Mick Jagger proud. With apologies to Charles Dickens, my granddaughter said solemnly: “This is the worst of times.”

My grandson looks like an angel, but is a tough cookie and recovered fairly quickly despite having a graze from head to chin.

Friday: The next morning my granddaughter was dropped off at school, and we drove out to Burry Head which formerly supported a stone fortress built during the Napoleonic Wars. It is now more famous for suicidal locals leaping off the cliff’s edge onto rocks 200 feet below. We enjoyed lunch at the Guard House Café and my wife and I experienced the best clam chowder that’s passed our lips.

Saturday: This was, sadly, travelling day back to London in preparation for our flight home on Sunday. We bid farewell to our family, but not before I enjoyed a breakfast of kippers. Why don’t they sell them in  the USA?  The Heathrow Hilton provided a safe and comfortable haven in readiness for  our 9 hour flight home.

Sunday: I couldn’t be lucky twice, and was allocated a seat in the back in punters’ class, but luckily sitting next to my wife who was already esconsed in her assigned seat. I’m not sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry when I sat next to her. Anyway it proved to be  cool trip despite the mishaps with the grandchildren. They are all healthy and happy, and that’s what really matters.

 

 

 

 

 

Thanksgiving to New Year’s Eve

Sunday, February 7th, 2016

I know I should be writing something topical about the two teams playing for the Super Bowl in 3 days time, or commenting on the bile emitting from Donald Trump’s mouth, aided and abetted by another loon, Sarah Palin. But that’s the beauty of having one’s own blog, and I can make the rules as I wish. So allow me to take you back in time to last November.
We usually spend Thanksgiving in England visiting relatives because if you fly standby as we do, most Americans stay home for the big holiday which gives us a better chance of securing seats on the plane. We were indeed fortunate to board the plane since we competing with a hoard of standby passengers eager to sample the delights that London has to offer.
We stayed at the Holiday Inn, Farnborough which is lagging slightly behind the new century, but nevertheless provided a fabulous British cooked breakfast. It was probably the best cooked breakfast experience I’ve encountered in a hotel/bed & breakfast in the past twenty years.
We spent a day at Milestones in Basingstoke, Hampshire with my son and two grandchildren. Milestones is a unique concept. It’s a museum depicted the 1930s and upwards with several exhibits and artefacts reliving a bygone era.
We visited a pub in the evening, the Waverley Arms, which offered a pint of Bollocks. Unfortunately there was none available which may have been my good fortune. Not to worry, we late dined at a very good Indian restaurant in Farnham, and the absence of a pint of bollocks made the meal far more appetizing.
Our trip was a short one, and it wasn’t long before we were sitting at Heathrow Airport anxiously waiting for our names to be called from the standby list. Flying standby can be frustrating, stressful and irritating all rolled into one enigma, and this trip was no exception.
We tried two days running without success, and we were forced to retreat to The Heathrow Hilton. This was some consolation for not be able to board a plane home, and was only available because my wife travels on business around the world building up a cacophony of points. We had little enthusiasm for travelling up to London to visit tourist attractions we had seen countless times, so we decided to do our version of the “Yoko and John sit-in.”
An executive room at Heathrow Hilton provided a splendid shower and we dined on complimentary heavy hors d’oeuvres which softened the blow of being bumped twice off our plane home. Not much to watch on the TV except for Great Britain winning the Davis Cup for the first time since 1936. Three times through Airport security works a charm and we finally secured our flying wings home.
Christmas was rather uneventful, and in a blink of an eye we were tentatively driving in torrential rain with friends towards Savannah; making our annual New Year’s Eve pilgrimage. Savannah is an ideal city to welcome in the new year. It’s a walking city dripping in history with a friendly and hospitable Southern charm.
Molly Macpherson’s is a Scottish style pub which serves a wonderful bowl of mussels the flavor of which is further enhanced by a pint of Bellhaven ale. We reserved a table at the Boar’s Head for New Year’s Eve. My friend is always anxious to know the waiter or waitress’s name, and upon request she informed us her name was Brandy. That triggered the song in my head, and I made a feeble attempt at singing it. Thanks to my android I was reminded the song was a hit for “Looking Glass” in 1972. I know this sounds like meaningless trivia but wait for the payoff.
We left the restaurant and made our way to City Market where a live band “High Velocity” were helping party revelers to greet the New Year with a bang. No sooner had we joined the crowd at the Market the vocalist announced their next song: “We would like to take you back a few years and play a song that was a hit for Looking Glass in 1972: Brandy!!!” Had we entered the Twilight Zone?

A City Choking on its own Vomit

Tuesday, November 10th, 2015

According to Bloomberg,” nowhere do mid-century roadways and 21st congestion collide with such deadly force as in Atlanta where a tangle of twisting roadways and densely  packed moving traffic combine to create America’s extreme tipping point.

Furthermore, according to a study by the American Transportation Research Institute: “more than 250 trucks have flipped over since 2001 on Atlanta roads and more than 200 people have died in truck rollovers in Georgia during that time.”

Working part-time as a delivery driver three days a week,  I know a little something about Atlanta’s biggest enemy to sustainable growth: TRAFFIC CONGESTION>

There are several reasons for this tremendous surge in traffic congestion:

  1. The population for Metro Atlanta has increased dramatically from approximately 2 million around The Olympics in 1996 to 6 million at the present time.
  2. Apart from minor improvements, including the infamous inverted diamonds, delayed entrance on ramps to interstates, traffic calming measures and HOV toll roads, the road infrastructure is basically the same.
  3. Since the upturn in the economy a couple of years ago, the city has witnessed a vast increase in the construction of new developments. The modern trend these days is an emphasis on mixed use developments. Planners and architects are wrongfully assuming that citizens will live, work and play at the same location. This hypothesis works for a little while, but people change jobs and begin commuting again, shopping and eating habits continually change depending on the new fad
  4. The dramatic increase in trucks (sixteen wheelers in some instances) traversing the interstates seven days a week is overwhelming. There are certain regulations in which lanes trucks can legally use, but these are regularly ignored and abused.
  5. The interaction between car commuters and commercial trucks vying for time, space at great speed is a recipe for disaster. Accidents occur on a daily basis on the interstates. I285 forms a 60 mile loop around the metro Atlanta area, and just recently was voted the most dangerous interstate in the USA for accidents.
  6. Many commuters can be seen texting and sometimes holding a coffee while meandering their way through peak hour traffic. I’m sure other cities around the country experience a similar phenomenon, but we also have the “rubber neckers” who dramatically slow down to have a bird’s eye view of  vehicles pulled over to the side by the police or as a result of a “fender bender.”
  7. We have just experienced nearly a month of heavy rain, and Atlanta motorists don’t handle inclement weather very well. Their solution is to speed up with the intention of getting home out of the rain as quickly as possible.
  8. On these overcast days when light is at a premium, motorists are loathe to switch their headlights on, and using their indicators to switch lanes is viewed as  a sign of weakness to their machoism
  9. Police cars patrol the highways in pursuit of easy pickings. Jo Blow, the average motorist who has the temerity to exceed the speed limit by a few miles an hour, is an easy prey for speeding fines to load the coffers of  County and City Governments while the boy racers and maniacs go their own sweet way causing mayhem in their wake
  10. Then we have the yellow peril appearing in the early morning and afternoons: a plethora of school buses hitting the highways to pick up children at numerous and various staging points around the city. Naturally they hold up traffic considerably which lead to frayed nerves among the commuters.
  11. The underground transportation system, MARTA, is a complete farce; totally inadequate to accommodate a burgeoning population.

What you may  well ask is the solution? There isn’t a short term fix available unfortunately. It requires an extensive investment in improving the infrastructure. Somehow commercial traffic in the shape of monolithic trucks and commuter motorists have to be separated. At minimum, Atlanta needs another circular route, similar to I285 around the city, and a major extension to the MARTA system.

Unfortunately this is unlikely to happen anytime soon owing to the political and economic pressures that exist in this city. There are 10 counties in the Metro Atlanta region operating independently from one another who pay lip service to a proposal for a regional plan.

Memo to myself: move to another city, but do extensive research to prevent jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.

It’s Over and My Grandkids have gone back too!

Monday, November 2nd, 2015

The best team in the Rugby World Cup deservedly won through in the end. New Zealand defeated their arch rivals Australia 37-17 with Dan Carter picking up man of the match. But there’s the dilemma for me. Carter won the MoM award for his goal kicking performance and not for his pivotal role as fly half.  Every team in the tournament now plays the same style: crash, bang, wallop!!!

Most of the players are stretched across the field facing each other in rugby league style, and it’s all about the gain line. What happened to the dummy, side step or scissors movement? Line outs and scrums have been considerably reduced to side shows which isn’t a bad thing, but I don’t enjoy the game in the same way I used to.

Yes, Saturday’s game was a great exhibition of the modern style game, and everyone of the All Blacks display great handling skills which places them above the opposition. However size really matters in rugby now, and most of the three quarters are 6′ 4′ and 17 stone plus. What was significant in this World Cup was the fact that the four semi-finalists were Northern Hemisphere teams: New Zealand, Australia, South Africa, and Argentina. Wales can match these teams in terms of size and bulk, but they do tend to make crucial errors at inopportune times. When was the last time you saw a Welsh hooker running down the wing apart from Wind Street on a Saturday night?

Meanwhile, my daughter and her family flew over for a visit for 10 days. We rented a mini van and drove down to the Magic Kingdom in Orlando from Atlanta. It’s a 8 hour road trip including stops, but it’s a straight shot down I75. Experiencing Disney through the eyes of my 5 year old granddaughter and 2 year old grandson was truly magical and the long journey was well worth it. However, a DVD player in the mini-van was an essential item for entertaining the adults and children on board.

For anyone contemplating a trip to the Disney theme parks, take advantage of the “fast pass system” which allows you to” jump the queue” on some of the rides. I will never forget  my grandson shouting continuously “Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse” as we made our way around the Park. It was hot and crowded for a Monday in late October, and copious amounts of bottled water were consumed.

At the end of an eventful day the grandkids were understandably beginning to wane, and my wife and I grabbed the opportunity to ride Space Mountain and Thunder Mountain. Well Disney World brings the kid out in everyone!

We returned to Atlanta and visited one of its main tourist attractions, Georgia Aquarium. My grandson took full advantage of the wide open spaces and ran amok  screeching ” Goldfish! Goldfish! Goldfish” having been cooped up in mini-van for 8 hours the previous day.

Unfortunately they had to fly back to Blighty the night before and missed Halloween. Not to be out done, my granddaughter looking pretty as a picture in her Elsa dress, and aided and abetted by her brother dressed as “The Old Man of the Sea,” arranged for her own trick or treat at our front door. Priceless.

Alaska-The Last Frontier

Wednesday, August 5th, 2015

July 1st-  Sitting at airport ready to take off. Emergency shute accidentally released by some numbskull leaving the plane Three hour delay. Eight hour flight to Anchorage, and only complimentary snacks available unless you are prepared to pay $9.00 for a stale sandwich from one of the ancient relics (flight attendants.)

July 2nd– Drove to Whittier from our base in Anchorage via a very unique tunnel. Boarded a 26 glacier boat cruise on Prince William Sound. Our table companions were Jason and Karl from San Diego…nice couple. Great clam chowder in Whittier. Drive from Anchorage to Whittier was a scenic delight.

July 3rd– Day in Anchorage. Ended up at Urgent Care Center for my wife. Being a world traveler caught up with her. She was the victim of a stomach bug she picked up in Mexico. Segway Tour-somewhat novel but way over-priced. Two victims of Russ Reno’s verbage. McGinley’s Irish pub served my wife  with the biggest portion of corn beef and cabbage I’ve ever seen.

July 4th-City Market near hotel where I purchased my kangaroo leather hat following much persuasion from my dear wife.  Independence Day Parade in Anchorage. Merriweathers, folk group from Oregon, relayed story of Lewis and Clark’s discovery of the West Passage via a series of songs. Fat Pizza restaurant served great pizza, made special because they offered anchovies as a topping.

July 5-Drove to Talkeetna, passing through Wassaila, home of Sarah Palin along the way- flight around Mt. McKinley and a glacier landing. There were only ten passengers plus the passenger on the glacier surrounded by an imposing mountain range. The silence was deafening. Spectacular, breath taking, jaw dropping experience. Stayed at  Denali Fireside Cabins which were very comfortable. Sampled the”Irish Death” brew at a local hostelry, and survived to tell the tale.

July 6th– Relatively peaceful day In Talkeetna. Breakfast at The Roadhouse was a real treat. Drove to Lake Bayer, rented a canoe for a gentel paddle to soak in more serene views of Mt. McKinley from the middle of the lake.

The Road House Café, Talkeetna

The Road House Café, Talkeetna

July 7th-Drove to Cooper’s Landing for an overnight stay at Summit Lake Lodge on the way to Homer. They boast they are famous for their “bloody Mary’s,” but probably the worst BM I’ve tasted in 20 years. Water was turned off at 9.00pm for repairs, and mine host’s response was “You’re not going to die!” He didn’t offer a discount so I crucified him in Trip Advisor!

July 8th-On the road to Homer we embarked on a detour toRussian River Falls. 21/2 mile hike to falls to watch salmon leaping their way up river to spawn against monumental obstacles-rapids, bears, eagles, rocks. No sign of wildlife apart from seagulls.

Arrived in Homer which was a bit of a culture shock, The Spit was festooned with hundreds of RVS, and very industrialised supporting commercial fishing. Homer is the halibut fishing capital of the world! The Salty Dog was a great pub to visit on The Spit with oodles of character and atmosphere. Walls and ceiling are adorned with hundreds of dollar bills signed by all and sundry. They only serve bottled beer, wine and spirits. Alaskan Amber Ale was my favorite.

Cabin was very rustic with a spare bed chained to the wall. Rust-colored water emanated from the faucets-slightly off putting. We did enjoy panoramic views of the bay when the clouds lifted. The drop in temperature  between Anchorage and Homer was in the region of 25 degrees.

July 9th-We flew to Brooks Falls on a sea plane to view the bears fishing for salmon. (approx. 11/2 hour flight.) Spectacular!!! The highlight was a bear and a bald eagle simultaneously catching a salmon-breathtaking. The food chain was operating before our very eyes- bears catching the hapless salmon and seagulls feeding off the scraps. Watching the bears fishing for salmon was an unforgettable experience.

July 10th-We stayed around Homer to recharge the batteries. Drove up Skyline Drive for a bird’s eye view of Homer. We visited historic Homer which resembled old Florida, and  walked along the beach. We purchased halibut freshly caught that morning on The Spit from The Auction Block, and later that evening grilled out at the cabin. A group of Eagles were soaring idly by giving us a farewell show. We enjoyed views of a volcano from the cabin which erupts every ten years; the volcano and not the cabin. Its about due.

July 11th-We reluctantly returned to Anchorage to fly home not before we sunk a couple of pints of Guinness in McGinley’s. For anyone contemplating a similar trip to Alaska it’s quite expensive but thoroughly worthwhile.

For those who can’t read, photos to follow.

 

 

 

 

Planes, Trains and Autobuses

Saturday, June 27th, 2015

My wife and I have just returned from attending a wedding in Mexico, and it’s quite bizarre how different another country’s wedding ceremony and reception can be.

We flew from Atlanta to Mexico City on Friday morning which was the easy part of the journey. We then caught the train from Terminal 1 to Terminal 2 in pursuit of the bus station. The third leg of the journey made me very apprehensive about agreeing to take this trip.  We were embarking on a four hour bus ride to Orizaba east of Mexico City, and I had a stereotype view that the bus would comprise wooden benches, packed to the rafters with the sea of humanity, and a few goats and chickens thrown in for good measure.

I was delighted to discover that my concerns were unfounded. The accommodation was bordering on luxury. The seats were very comfortable and reclined if desired. The bus was fitted with air conditioning and two rest rooms.  Videos were available from several screens  for the duration of the journey, but they were in Spanish, and I only understand gracias, si, pa favor, and how much for the woman? Well you can’t have everything.

We arrived at our destination on time, and were able to walk to the hotel a couple of blocks away. After settling into our room we decided to explore what  Orizaba had to offer. It’s not exactly a tourist destination, but it’s a colorful, lively town with a population of approximately 100,000 and several places of interest to keep us occupied.*

The wedding invitation indicated that the ceremony would take place at 7.00 pm (in hindsight make that “seven-ish”) with a reception to follow at 9.00pm (nine-ish) until late. My wife insisted on ordering a taxi at 6.00pm and she can speak reasonable Spanish to tell the driver our destination. However she was taken aback when the taxi driver appeared not to have heard of the cathedral where the wedding was taking place. It was luckily lost in translation and he dropped us outside the venue ten minutes later.

We were rather early and unsurprisingly there were no other guests to be found, but as the  The cathedral clock struck 6.30pm a few other guests were mercifully milling around the Cathedral courtyard.  The flowers arrived on the back of a truck at 6.45pm while evening mass was still taking place inside the cathedral. The courtyard was now beginning to fill up with more guests and at 6.50pm the bridegroom strolled into the courtyard all alone with a big smile on his face, but perspiring feverishly in a tuxedo.

It’s the bride’s privilege  to be late for her wedding and she duly obliged. The bridal car, a cream colored SUV adorned with ribbons driven by the groom’s nephew, pulled into the courtyard around 7.10pm while stragglers from the mass were just leaving.

The groom then helped his bride out of the car, paused for a few photographs, and escorted her into the Cathedral with 400 guests bringing up the rear. The bridal march was substituted for a Mexican folk song and we were left to find our seats. There were no bridesmaids, no best man, groomsmen, ushers or father of the bride, but The flowers looked very pretty.

The service was naturally held in Spanish, but I was impressed that the happy couple had memorized their vows. Gazing into each other’s eyes and holding microphones, they reminded me of Peaches and Herb as they exchanged vows and slipped on the wedding rings.

They paused for several photographs at the altar and walked out of the Cathedral, but with no music accompaniment. I was tempted to whistle Handel’s Wedding March but I was suffering from bronchitis and couldn’t hit the high notes.

The reception was being held a couple of miles away but we had  no intention of repeating our earlier faux pas of  being the first guests to arrive. We furtively turned up at 9.30pm and joined a long queue which had formed at the entrance. Somebody had the bright idea of inviting guests to finger paint on a “wedding tree” and sign the damn thing. We were shown to our seats around ten after ten.

The bride and groom reappeared about 10.30pm as the first course was beginning its rounds. Now I’m all for gentle background music playing while I’m eating a meal, but a saxophone player paraded around the dance floor attempting to play the  “Kenny G” box set before they cut the cake.

I had heard that Mexicans love to party, but remarkably there was no alcohol served or available to purchase at the reception save for a glass of pink champagne of dubious quality to toast the bride and groom. We decided to take our leave around midnight, and as we walking out the door, I swear I saw a number of bottles of tequila being pulled out of a drinks cabinet.

“Okay amigos, we can  get the good stuff flowing now. The gringos are finally leaving……..”

Footnote: Seriously, it was an honor to be invited to the couple’s wedding. It was fun and enjoyable experience and a weekend  I will never forget. The bride and groom dropped in at the bus station to see us off and they didn’t leave the reception until 7.00am.Sure sign we’re getting old.

*Highlights:

 

That Was The Week That Was

Wednesday, June 10th, 2015

 

The first week of June has proved to be quite eventful. Earlier in the week it was reported that Charles Kennedy the former leader of the Liberal Democrats had died suddenly at the age of 55. Mr. Kennedy was an MP for 32 years until he recently lost his seat to the SNP avalanche at the General Election. Mr. Kennedy was quite unique in politics; he was honest, personable, articulate and very intelligent.

He had the courage to oppose the Iraq War and was vilified by all around him who collectively stepped on the Bush/Blair bandwagon. He never lauded over lesser souls when he was proved right to oppose the war, and his leadership of the Liberal Democrats was a decisive factor in the party winning 62 seats at the General Election in 2005. Sadly he was a victim of the demon drink and was forced to resign as leader as the cracks began to show.

Later in the afternoon, breaking news revealed that the corrupt  weasel, Sepp Blatter, President of FIFA had announced his resignation. Four days earlier he had been re-elected for another term despite five of his cohorts being arrested on corruption charges. It would appear, but not confirmed, that the wolves were circling the 79 year old demi-god and he decided to jump before being pushed thus ending a despicable 17 year reign. However, he will remain in office until a new President is elected in December which is quite inexplicable.

In the newspapers on Wednesday, the 40th Anniversary of Leeds United’s appearance in the European Cup Final was recognized when they lost 0-2 to Bayern Munich. Critics will argue that they were the victim of poor referee decisions, but I have no sympathy for that club. They were cynical, unscrupulous, dirty, and deservedly received their comeuppance.

Cracks are beginning to show in Brendan Rodgers’ control over Liverpool FC. They failed to qualify for the Champions League having spent millions on mediocre players in the summer and Steven Gerrard has retired to earn mega bucks in a cosey environment at LA Galaxy. The American owners of Liverpool assured Rodgers his job was safe for now, but unceremoniously fired assistant manager Colin Pascoe and first team coach Mike Marsh.

I can’t imagine Liverpool’s former legendary manager, the late Bill Shankly, allowing his erstwhile assistants Bob Paisley and Joe Fagan to be fired by the Board in a similar manner. Rodgers who is never short of a word or two has some explaining to do.

We are a few days away from celebrating the bi-centennial anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo; a battle which changed the course of world history.The other day, I came across a giant statue of the Duke of Wellington astride his horse, Copenhagen, located in a nondescript park on the outskirts of Aldershot. I believe he deserves a more prominent spot in the confines of a London square or outside the Houses of Parliament to receive similar recognition as the Nation’s other great statesmen Winston Churchill and Horatio Nelson. 

I was driving passed Stonehenge and was caught in a traffic jam. Nevertheless it gave me the opportunity to take a closer look at the giant pig farm which abuts the A30, and is located less than  half mile from the World Heritage Site. I’m not a pig hater by any means but I thought it incongruent to allow a piggery so near to Stonehenge. They can’t really argue that the pigs were there first, can they?

The week ended with a flourish with Barcelona deservedly defeating Juventus 3-1 in the Champions League Final, and American Pharaoh becoming the first horse in 37 years to win the Triple Crown of American horse racing: The Kentucky Derby, Preakness and the Belmont. Congratulations to the winners, commiserations to the losers.

Footnote: Wellington’s monument was originally placed on Constitution Arch in the City of London, but regarded as a bit of an eyesore by Queen Victoria. It was later moved to Hyde Park and eventually found its way to Aldershot, home of the British Army.

 

 

 

A Flying Visit to Blighty

Friday, May 15th, 2015

I was in England last week which proved very eventful. On Sunday, the Cambridges’ named their new baby girl Charlotte Elizabeth Diana which covers all bases. I came across a picture in one of the tabloids where a “Queen look a like” was changing the new arrival’s nappy. Priceless!

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I barely survived the cattle truck which Delta Airline laughingly calls “Economy.” Delta is certainly economic with its space for passengers, time spent by flight attendants looking after passengers who also just happen to be paying customers, and very economic with the quality of food tossed at passengers.

I furtively negotiated my way through passport control and customs, and took a shuttle to pick up my rental car. Luckily it was a Bank Holiday and the roads were lightly trafficked, and my first destination was only an hour away. I spent the rest of the day  with my son and two of my grandchildren which was the main reason for my visit.

The following day I headed south west to visit with my daughter and two more grandchildren. The drive down to Devon from Aldershot on the A303 was very pleasant. There were swathes of  patches of yellow fields mingling with their green counterparts, and as the sun was breaking through the leaden skies. Stone Henge  appeared on the landscape. I’ve always claimed the best view of Stone Henge is driving along the A303. Stone Henge loses its mystique when viewed close up; rather like Gloria Swanson in “Sunset Boulevard.”

I was listening to the radio in the car when news broke that one of my football heroes, Jimmy Greaves, had suffered a massive stroke at the age of 75. He is arguably the greatest goal scorer of all time when you examine his goals to matches ratio. All his goals were scored in the cauldron of the top flight of English and fleetingly Italian football. Forty four goals in 57 appearances for England is a far superior strike rate compared to Bobby Charlton,  Lineker and Rooney. I wish you a speedy recovery Jim.

I was very fortunate to spend two days of quality time with my grandchildren before heading back  to reunite with my son and grand daughter. Aldershot is the home of the British Army the numbers of which have been drastically reduced in recent years. The Gurkha regiment based in Nepal was also a victim of Government cuts, but the actress Joanna Lumley campaigned successfully to have the British Government take care of ex Gurkha soldiers and their families. Little did she realize that hundreds of Nepalese would be housed in bed and breakfast guest houses which forced them onto the streets of Aldershot during the day. They aimlessly roam the streets until they can return to their accommodation. A number of Nepal restaurants has sprung up around the town to take advantage of the Gurkhas’ nomadic existence.

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Thursday was time for the people to cast their votes in the General Election. The Polls were predicting a  hung Parliament with the possibility of Labour forming a coalition with the SNPs. Ed Miliband, leader of the Labor Party had produced an ill-conceived “Tablet of Stone” (literally) comprising his Party’s six pledges should they win the election.

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I spent an entertaining night in my hotel room watching and listening avidly has the election results began to roll in. The political interviewers on British TV are for more savage on politicians than their American counterparts and I had really missed the cut and thrust of a British Election night.

The Conservatives surprised everyone including themselves by winning 330 seats and an outright majority. The Liberal Democrats who had formed a coalition Government with the Tories for the past five years were obliterated. Conversely the SNP (Scottish Nationals) won an unprecedented 58 seats re-igniting calls for independence for Scotland. Hello, didn’t they have a Referendum last September where 55% of the Scots voted against independence?

The following day I flew back to Atlanta, but not before I heard three Party Leaders, Ed Miliband (Labour,) Nick Clegg ( Liberal Democrats,) and Nigel Farge (UKIP) had resigned. Each in turn had been hapless, opportunist and fantasized to no avail. The British people had spoken.

Cheers mate.