Who Do We Want To Be?

Who Do We Want To Be?

Art Inspires Reflection

Last night I went to see the film Unbroken. I have a somewhat intense interest in this period of history. I knew some of the people that lived large through those trying times. I think of them often and live by many of the lessons they taught me. So this story moved me greatly.

How Americans Do And The World Once Viewed Us.

We were at our greatest at this point in history. We laid our entire civilization on the line based on nothing more than the concept of unalienable rights. We defeated two powerful empires bent on a brutal form of world domination at great human cost.

After such great sacrifice we offered our fallen foe a fair public trial for the most brutal, amnesty for the conscripted and we then paid to rebuild their shattered homes. We turned the most voracious empires into some of the worlds best citizens by acting on the core of our beliefs.

How times have changed. We as a culture are at a crossroads. It seems to me that we have started down the wrong path. We must turn back and find the correct path before it is too late.

We Are No Longer The Good Guy

As I watched the part of the film where POWs are being abused for information I was disappointed to realize the rest of the world now views us in the role of the Japanese. Make no mistake starving a person and then offering food so forcing  them to give what you want is torture. The least brutal treatment in the film.

I am not sure what went wrong. I suspect we all became so flipin' rich we are now afraid.To any reasonable person religious fanatics are few and in no way powerful enough to bring our culture to it's knees. Sure they are mean and crazy and we need to take action when we can to protect the innocent. 

At Pearl Harbor we were attacked by an empire bent on global domination. On 9/11 we were attacked by a few nuts in a cave with a little money. Totally different situations. 

Extrajudicial executions of American citizens, the cowardly indiscriminate use of drone strikes, preemptive invasion of nations that never even had a plan to attack us and the total refusal to apply the Geneva Convention of 1949 to men captured on the field are weak and stupid responses to this less than credible threat to us as a nation,

This is a cultural struggle. In order for us to win we must have the courage of our convictions right up front. We do not preserve our freedom by signing away our liberties out of fear. We do not win the battle of morality by abusing POWs. We do not gain the support of the world and actionable information by torturing anyone. If anything these kinds of behaviors play into the hands of our adversaries. We cannot be both strong and stupid.

How Is This Different From...

This? This Man Is A POW

During a risky incident with some men who lived through the 40's I was freaking out. Ray a combat vet calmly turned to me and almost whispered "Take a breath and find your courage. Because that is the way out of this" His brave, wise and calm manner gave me the courage to do what was hard and to come out the other side. So I whisper to America calm down, take a breath and find your courage. Because it is the only way we are going to come out the other side.

The Little Band's First Full Day

Our First Full Day

Finding Our Way

 

Me Trying To Figure Out Where I Am

Route finding is a real treat. When you come from a culture that is obsessed with straight lines and brutalizing the landscape into submission the Venetians’ approach takes you by surprise.

We have an excellent map and my trusty compass. Really this (as I was to learn later) is only important if you are looking for a very specific spot in Venice. It is better to just walk in the general direction of where you want to go and work it out when you get close.

I am afraid that my American obsession of being in control took over here and in some ways detracted from my time in Venice. Still the challenge of knowing where you are in the city was fun for me. It also allowed Barbara and Bob to just wander and know that we would be able to get where we wanted to go.

Campo San Giacomo Di Oro

A Day of Wandering and Wondering

I had read about a good place for lunch on Virtual Tourist so I suggest we wander over there and get some lunch and just see what ever comes our way. My super friendly and flexible companions are ready to try anything.

The Work Bench In Barbara's Favorite Shop

We wander the streets behind the Friari Church till we hit the Campo San Marghera and find the restaurant. It was not a satisfying lunch. The place was busy and we are uncomfortable. Still working out traveling in a strange land kind of stuff.

We ask the wrong things and order the wrong stuff. The construction workers at the next table give me several eye rolls. That did not help much. No worries we will soon become much more comfortable. Still we are fed and happy as we leave.

A “Wasted “Afternoon

A Little Girl Playing Behind The Rialto

We just began to wander towards the Rialto Bridge. I am still not sure of our route but it is just one big happy childlike ramble.

Barbara finds a very nice local artist’s glass shop and buys some very nice things. Not super expensive and the woman was very kind and carefully wrapped things for her.

We wander into the Campo San Giacomo De Oro. After I spend more time in Venice this will become my favorite campo. From there we wander the alleys and eventually end up at the Rialto Bridge.

   

B&B Clown For The Camera

Our First Big Site

What can a person say when they come on a site that has so much written about it? As it turns out, a lot just none of it is very original. Still it is very inspiring to stand where practically every person of any note has stood in the last few hundred years. I can imagine Lord Byron side stroking under my feet on his swim from the Liddo and that is enough for me.

As it turns out some things fit in their place. This bridge is one of those items. It is the right scale, the materials and design are very appealing.

In the states marble as a construction material is used mainly as an ostentatious display inside over blown businesses and homes. Here it is a great durable and beautiful material used in construction for it’s unique qualities. I will see a fair amount of well applied marble while in Italy and it will change my view of it.

We spend the rest of the waning afternoon wandering the alleys behind the Rialto. Sometimes it is fun to just be a tourist. The air is a bit crisp and a light rain falls on and off. We stop for coffee and really just people watch.

The Best Companions One Could Want

The light begins to fade and we go back to the Bridge to catch the sunset. It is the grandest place to see the sunset of all the places in any city I have seen to date. The quality of the light is practically alpine and over the fading beauty of the glory that was once” The Venice of Empire”. It is sublime.

Sunset From The Rialto Bridge

We Make Two Blunders in One

We discover we ate lunch much too early and that dinner is not even an option till after 7:00 or 8:00. To top that we are naively unaware of the Venetian custom to having a drink and a small bite to eat in the early evening. This little respite becomes one of our favorite things on later trips but we bumble on without a clue this time.

Barbara Ponders Her First Ventian Sunset

We go back to the hotel to refit and rearm. Barbara’s bag drama comes to an end when we find her bag on the bed in our room as promised. She is very pleased. Buying whole kit in Venice would be a bit of a financial disaster. No more checking bags!

We End Out Our First Day

We take another toddle and get a nice dinner. Bob learns that Venice is not the place to get an American style pizza. We wander back in the area of San Margehrea. It is crowded with young students. I feel a little old and creaky. We realize that it is almost midnight. After a bit of momentary disorientation we get back to the Marin. We fall into beds and sleep like the dead.

Serenity at the Edge of the Adriatic

The First Breath of Magic Venetian Air

As the train coasts to a stop, we pick up our kit and make our way onto the platform. The air is cool and we can sense the rain outside the platform. Looking forward and navigating the bobbing heads. We walk across the station lobby and step through the door.

It was as if we had stepped into a parallel world. The Grand Canal is laid out before you. Boats of many types are running to and fro. There are people from all over the globe. The buildings and the marble bridge in view seem as if they are from a fairy tale. I had the good sense to take a minute and enjoy the scene.

It is hard to describe the effect of all this. It was as impressive for me as the first morning waking up in the high desert of the American west. What word? Marvelous, fantastic, transformative… You cannot choose they all apply.

Maps & Pressure

After the wonder subsides a bit I realize that Bob and Barbara are looking at me and expecting me to know where to go. I thank my lucky stars that I spent some time going over the location of the Albergo Marin on the train. I had read that finding your way in Venice can be a bit of challenge. My years of map reading once again serve me well. We cross the bridge into Santa Croce and I am able to locate the right alley. With little fanfare I find us standing in front of the hotel. I think I was more surprised that they were.

A Perfect Reception

It was late and I am a bit worried. The hotel may not have held our rooms. This happened to me once and I am always a bit uncomfortable when I arrive late. We step into the reception room and shake off the rain. Before I can speak Giacomo says in a very friendly tone “Mr, Gregg we have been expecting you. Your rooms are ready”. I take one more step into a love affair with Italy. Our rooms are not only nice but exceed our expectations. We take a short break, refit our clothes and head down to look for food.

Our First Walk in Venice

The Walk To Dinner On Our First Night in Europe

We ask Giacomo for a recommendation and set off. The light rain has turned into a pretty steady cold rain. Barb feels better as she is wearing my long johns under her dress. We become hopelessly lost but do not even care. This city is so unlike anywhere we have ever seen we just bounce from place to place like pin balls. We find a pharmacy so Bob can get some water for his cpap machine. We are now very hungry and need to find a place. This is always the test for a group traveling together. We come through without a hitch.

We end up just picking a place. It was perfect. The ceiling is low and the room is warm and cozy. The staff is very kind and patient. The wine, pasta and salad really hit the spot. We have a very fun and relaxed time. We are a little bit tipsy from the wine and no sleep.

A Window on the Way to Dinner Our First Night in Venice

 So we wander back to the hotel. The rain has stopped and we are all in very good spirits. It has been the end to a very wonderful day.

We climb the stairs and fall into our bed. We go right out.

Up Early and Out

Photos From My First Morning Walk

I wake up as the light starts to grow. I dress quietly and slip outside. The soft morning settles over me.

Oh, what a joy, the sound of a city without the roar of automobiles. This sound is like no other city. It is a combination, chatting of people on their way to work, the echoes on the walls, the scuff of shoes on the pave stone. I just love it. Streets built for humans not  automobiles.

I get a few pictures and a very nice wander. I then head back to the hotel for breakfast.

The Breakfast Room At The Marin

Barbara's First Breakfast in Italy

Barbara and Bob are not up yet so I step into the breakfast room and find a table. A very pleasant woman arrives and offers me a cappuccino.  Moments later she returns with one of the best cups of coffee I have ever had. As I enjoy this lovely treat I look over the list of things we want to do.

Barbara arrives and looks wonderful and happy. We talk over the lost bag and decide to try to deal with that first. Then we will wander around a bit

Bob comes down and is in the same frame of mind. We eat and head out to our rooms to get ready for the day. This is easy for Barbara because she no clothes to change into.

Another Fantastic Italian

We try to call the airline about Barbara’s bag on a phone in the lobby. The young woman that provided us with the awesome coffee was now working the desk. She listens to Barbara try to communicate for a few minutes. She then comes from behind the desk and takes the phone right out of Barbara’s hand and starts talking. She then turns to Barbara and says “I will do for you”. Barbara tries to object but Allesandra raises her hand and starts talking again. After a few minutes she says” Your bag will be on the bed in your room this afternoon”. I feel Barbara almost melt with relief.

Fortified with a shared wardrobe and cappuccino we set off for a transformative day.

It Is Not Like Any Other Place, Really!

A Few Views From That First Morning Walk

Our first impressions of Venice are now overwhelmed with the unique qualities that make this a great place. There is no drone of traffic or scooters. Everything is on the human scale. It feels as if you are being held in a warm hand. The Venetians embrace of an architecture that is unique and not enslaved to the “modern” view that new is better, is impressive. This bodes well for an amazing day. Every turn opens a new mystery.

We Are Off

We Are Off

Getting Set

We pack using experience and gear we have. We hit the thrift store for some clothes. In a direct violation of Thoreau’s advice. It almost seems too easy. That internet and ATMs have made planning a simple affair.

The hard part is getting the farm ready. We must set all the animals up. We put everything away and close up the house. The last thing is to take the dogs to Jenny’s (Our Awesome Vet).

We spend the last night at home in restless sleep. The alarm goes off at 6:00. We shower grab a cup and hit the road. It is a bit of a drive to the KC airport so we want to leave by 7:00.

We are held up by our great friend Merlin. He stops by to send us off. Merlin is a very welcome delay and a good omen for our journey.

                                       

Merlin O’Dell Stops by to Say Good Bye

Check in goes smooth and now we wait in the worst airport in the world. A place with nothing to see and nothing to eat. Our flight to Newark goes off without a hitch and we meet up with Bob. We are all high and excited. We get a light linner.

I notice right away that things with Bob just click. He is relaxed, funny and overly generous. He proves to be very easy going and a great partner. In retrospect he is one of the best traveling partners I have ever had.

Bye, Bye America

We are flying on Thanksgiving Day. We step onto an almost empty plane for our flight to Milan. The flight attendants are Italian, friendly and gorgeous. The male attendant is so handsome Barbara cannot even look at him. Like kings we take a whole row of empty seats for each of us.

My friends sleep but I am too excited. I go over the information I have on Milan and the map to the hotel in Venice.

I watch the monitor and marvel at the ease of travel by plane. Just a few decades ago this would have taken more courage and time. I turn on a movie and then finally drift off.

A few hours later the lights blink back to life and we get set to land. I reset my watch in Kansas City so it kind of all seems normal. The sky is cloud covered so we cannot see much till we break through just a few hundred meters from the ground.

We Are Here

A Missing Bag

The airport is mid 70’s clean but a little dated. Customs is a breeze not even a line. I hit an ATM in the baggage claim and then get my bag. Bob grabs his and heads outside to smoke. Barbara on the other hand does not find her bag. We wait till the turnstile stops and then try to decide what to do.

Barbara Returns Bagless (sorry for the camera shake!)

I wait at the turnstile while Barbara goes to the desk to see what can be done. It turns out that there is nothing to be done. I wait for two more planes to unload. Maybe it will turn up. It did not. So, we decide to press on.

We find Bob outside. He was unable to reenter so was in the dark waiting and wondering what is going on. We explain and then catch the bus for the train station. The information that I had about the bus was right on.

The Milan Train Station

Outside The Milan Train Station

To our inexperienced eyes the train station looks like total chaos. It is snowing and there is construction at the entrance. There are people of all stripes going here and there. North Africans hocking umbrellas, students, office workers, laborers and we seem to be the only ones that do not know where to go. Quite a jolt when you are from Kansas.

We find a quiet corner to park Barbara, Bob and the gear. Trundling down the stairs I find the automatic ticket machines. Buying tickets turns out to be easy peasey. In a few minutes I have 3 second class to Venice. Triumphant I return to the gang.

This first important step covered we turn to food. Bob and Barbara are hungry but I feel too excited to think about food. I cover the bags while they are off to find food.

My Personal Love Affair with Italy Begins at This Very Point

It is at this very point that I begin to relax and fall in love with Italy. I know that is what everybody since Byron has said but in my case, this is the instant that it happens. It was all because I read too many guide book warnings about the Milan train station.

As I sit with the bags I start watching people pass by. After a couple of minutes imagining gangs descending on me and running amok with our gear. I am charmed by a small older lady. She has bags of groceries and is laboring across the station. She makes eye contact with me and says "Boun Gorno" and smiles. She is clearly not worried and neither should I be. I feel the tension melt away and begin to take it all in.

Once I look up, I realize what a grand building we have entered. Built by the Fascists of the pre war years it is quite a marvel. It seems in great repair considering the age and the amount of use it was getting. The head of the station is stone with grand patriotic art. There a many small details and the quality of the work is high.

A Detail from the Stair Rail in the Milan Station

The train platforms are under a marvelous arched steel and glass train shed. Best of all is the large arrival and departure board. Clackity clackity it flips up times and exotic destinations very inspiring. I want to go to them all.

The Diblasis return breathless and with panni in hand. Excitedly they explain that Italians do not stand in line but mob to the front and just make it happen. It took them quite a while till they figured it out. Bob is somewhat alarmed by this chaotic approach to customer service.

After eating I wander outside and get a few photos and then it is time to find our train.

Our First Train Ride In Europe

We find the platform and validate our tickets. Thank god I had read how to tell which car and seat were on our tickets because it made this little step go smooth. We stow our gear and get seated. A few minutes later we begin to pull out.

It was interesting to pass through Milan and see how it had rebuilt after the war. I know we bombed the crap out of it. Bob is out with his I pod in almost immediately.

Bob on His First train In Europe

I am a little punchy from no sleep but very excited. Barbara is tired and cold as she has no extra clothes due to the lost bag. She snuggles under my jacket and drifts off on my shoulder.  I watch the Italian countryside. Bliss…

She wakes as we pass Verona. We chat about how easy Bob is to have around and how this looks like it will work out well. We both have a chuckle as we arrive in Padua because we have been pronouncing it wrong. We say paduooa and the Italian announcer says paudwa.

Not Knowing What is Ahead

We roll toward the coast in the fading light. I see my first Italian standing oarsman as we roll out onto the causeway to Venice.

I can see the islands and buildings of Venice as a light rain starts. I wish for this time back now.  I had no idea how much I would enjoy the next few days. If I had known I would have paid more attention.

Will We Ever Find A Different Way?

Will We Ever Find A Different Way?

The Resting Place For 2,500 Yong Men

I stood at this little patch of ground in Flanders and was horrified to learn that under this patch smaller than a little garden 2,500 men were buried. My first question was how could the all fit? As it turns out they had been reduced to sandbags of meat by the horror of the western front.

What!?

The Work Bench In A Belgian Farm Shed

Later in the day I stopped at a strawberry farm. The farmer showed me his work bench. It was heaped with unexploded hand grenades, rifles, mess kits and artillery shells. All 100 years old.

I asked him how many years it took to collect all these? He snorted and said "Years!"? Try 4 months. He told me the Belgian army comes twice a year and removes the collection.

He showed me the armor plate installed under his tractor. He explained the explosives are not a real problem. It is the poison gas shells that worry him. Personally I find both to be of concern. 

I cannot imagine farming strawberries in this situation. Plowing takes on a whole new intensity in Flanders.

I Am Overwhelmed

As my tour wound through the Yepes Salient I passed so many cemeteries and graves it was hard to remain sensitive to the significance of each and every headstone.

This grave pulled me up short and helped me to connect with the loss it represented. His family still felt his loss after 100 years. Just so tragic and painful. Repeat this by millions.

Is there no end to the suffering humans will endure? How can this ever be the best answer to a problem between people? 

In my own time I listened while the leaders in my own country talked of "preemptive war" as if it were a walk in the park. Thousands of shattered American families later and no peace in Iraq and Afghanistan and still they beat the drums of war. It is so disappointing.

 There is little or no mention of the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and Afghans that have been killed. My culture treats them as if they do not even count. Again, very disappointing. 

Does an Iraqi parent greave any less when a red hot supersonic piece of metal explodes through the flesh of their child? Will they feel the loss any less over the years?

When will we learn to progress past the mentality of cavemen fighting over a scrap of meat? Is the greed that fuels this kind of behavior hard wired? Will humanity survive long enough to answer this question? I shudder.

My Chosen Field Of Battle

I am going out to cultivate some soil and grow some food for someone I do not even know to help shake off these Veterans Day blues.

Our First Time Out

First Time Out

My First Photograph of a European Street

A Short Grand Tour with Barbara and Bob

The Plan

Waking Up

You wake up one day and realize time is getting thin. If we really want some things it is now or never. Sometime in winter of 2006, this happened to me. Was it the creaking in my bones? The lack of travel adventure in the last 10 years? A big time had become a trip of 25 miles to the hardware store and coffee.

Not to bitch too much. I love my life. I work outside in nature every day (a life goal). I love AND like my wife. We have built a good life together on our small farm. It is a great place to land. I love the silence and the wild. Still, I wish to have a full life experience and this requires visits to unfamiliar places.

We have lived (for Americans) low on the scale. We have no children as the world has all the humans it needs, air conditioning, microwave and T.V. We grow 70% of what we eat and have built our own house. Neither Barb nor I have an inheritance. We prosper by the sweat on our bent backs and a few wits. We have saved a bit and wish to use it.

My Grandma always wanted to travel. She was a young adult during the Great Depression of the 1930’s and was so traumatized by the experience that she could not bring herself to spend any money on a luxury like travel. She had a stereographic viewer in her living room with cards from all over the world and she would sit of an evening and look at them. She died with a fairly large sum of money in the bank.

This was a real lesson for me. As the light fades from my eyes I wish to remember Barbara happy in Venice not my full bank account

It is time to tick a few of the big items off the list. At last, time once again for the open road.

Meeting of the Minds

I let Barbara know about how I feel over coffee and as it happens she is on the same page. Where to go first?

I love history and art. Barbara has family from Italy. So Italy very quickly becomes the winning destination.

We decide on the simple but “Grand Tour”.  Rome, Florence and Venice with a side trip to the Cinqua Terre. We decide to save southern Italy for another time.

We decide on the late fall of 2008. This will be after the Farmers’ Market ends. This makes leaving the farm less complicated. It will also put us in the “off  season”. Hopefully this will help to control cost a bit and we like cool weather.

Barbara puts in for time off and I put together a plan for the farm.

A New Partner

Barbara comes down to breakfast one summer morning and says we need to talk. Of course I quickly roll over the list of recent mistakes I have made and wonder how I can talk my way out of trouble.

She opens with a boom and says. “My brother Bob wants to go to Italy with us.” I breathe a sigh of relief and gulp at the same time.

Bob would not be my first choice of a travel companion. He seemed to be the least social of all of Barbara’s brothers. Barbara and Bob seemed to be the least compatible.

I also am not the easiest person to be around for Barbara’s family. This seems to be particularly true for Bob. I am not sure it is good for Bob.

I look up from my oatmeal and say “He is your brother. If he wants to go and you want him to go then of course he can go with us.” Much later Barbara confesses that she hoped I would say no.

As with most fears we were over reacting.

So then there were three.

Robert in Venice One Great Travel Companion

Putting It Together

Our main travel experience is trips in North America so the learning curve is steep.

The main lesson learned in hindsight is do not sweat it and be unafraid. It all works out. By embracing the simple is better approach. We book flights and only our first hotel and we will work the rest out in country.

Bob was married to a “planner nazi” and he freaked out. We send him a list of stuff to bring and he wants to take way too much. We want to be light and flexible. Barbara talks him down from the big huge bag. She explains that there will be no porter and we will be on the move a fair amount. He gets it sorted after wearing his pack around for an hour.

We Commit

We book the flights and taking a mental step into the “no going back club”. I love this part of any trip because you leave all the reservations about go or no go behind at this point.

Barbara Books the Flights with Bob

Autumn Sunrise From the Back Porch

Autumn Sunrise From the Back Porch

View From The Back Door

I step onto the cool porch and retrieve two eggs from a basket. It seems two of the girls have decided to make it their nest. One a deep brown the other light blue. What real wealth looks like.

Eggs In A Basket

Tossing in salt, a few herbs a crushed garlic clove and a quick whisking preps the omelette. After fourty five cranks on the grinder handle the coffee is started. Sliding the eggs into the pan Barbara gave me as a Christmas gift and in seconds the omelette is plated and ready.

I quickly wash the the pan and mixing bowl to keep up with things. My grandma Edna always stressed cleaning as you go. A bit of advice I rarely live up to.  My grandma was just full of good advice.

Juggling my plate and coffee I move out to the west side of the porch and the rattan chair that Barbara salvaged and painted purple. The light is building and the air is cool and soft. I hear the tap of Dixie's paws behind me. She brushes past and trots off for the dawn patrol.

 I realize that it would be best to let the Dixie Chicks out before I eat. I step into the wet grass and head towards the coop. The dew soaks into my socks through the holes in my worn out willies. It is chilly but feels nice.

 

Working The Coop Latch 

The Expression On A Chicken's Face When They Think "I am Out Of Here"

Dixie Checking To See That Her Hens Are All O.K.

The chicks are almost as excited as Dixie about getting out of the coop. One of the things I enjoy most about sharing the farm with chickens is the "chickenisms"  like "being cooped up", "hen party" and "playing chicken". What was once common knowledge is now almost lost to the past.

My now cool omelette is very satisfying. I would like a piece of toast but my weight is up today so I need to go a little lean for the day. Breakfast finished, I settle back in the chair cinch up my wool jacket and sip my coffee.

The light changes minute by minute. The rising bird song settles into a steady tune. I hear the goats start to bump round and see Daphne stroll into the yard. She jumps up onto the old tin bin we put in the yard as a goat toy. She looks ready to be put out. The older goats not so much.

A few more minutes to sort out my plan for the day as I drain my cup and it is off to put the goats out and get things rolling.

Living out here is full of sacrifices. It makes it all the more important to really experience and enjoy these sweet moments. I remind myself that it is these small things that I miss when I wake in the city to the drone of the tyrannical automobile instead of bird song.

I feel a great day in the offing.