Bondi to Coogee

A trip to Sydney would not be complete without walking at least a portion of this three and a half mile paved, seaside path along  spectacular sandstone cliffs and beautiful coves.  With a day to myself I take the #333 bus (also available #380 or #389) from Central Quay in Sydney to Bondi, famous for its expansive beach and surfing "between the flags."  A popular beach destination, I'm not surprised that this town has all the typical beach amenities you expect from honky tonk stores, beach cafes, surf shops and lots of people watching.  After poking around a few stores I headed for the path at the southern end of the beach.  As the path winds up its first hill I'm immediately struck by the "Icebergs" a large pool complex originally built for the Bondi Lifesaving Club.  The two large pools are fed with ocean water making a winter swim on Bondi both a bit warmer and a lot safer.  The complex is now open to visitors for both swimming and enjoying a meal or drinks overlooking the beauty of the waves and beach.  Having just eaten I kept going along the path making a note to myself to plan a meal there on a future trip!  

Continuing along the path I pass by some statues that are part of the Sculptures by the Bay exhibit and then came upon a small  beach called Tamararma otherwise known as "Glamarama" evidently because of the "beautiful people" that frequent this lovely spot with its elongated beach and small cafe' .  A short walk further along the path I came to Bronte beach, a larger popular beach with places to eat, a playground and a large grass park with BBQ pits  behind the beach.  At the southern end of the beach are the Bronte Baths another example of what I learned are very common man made pools along the coastline that provide a sheltered place to swim at the beaches.  Here you can swim in seawater that is constantly circulated through the pool without worrying about the large waves or occasional shark.  

Heading south again I climb a hill as the path takes me over some dramatic sandstone cliffs and past the historic Waverley Cemetery where I marvel at the intact Victoria and Edwardian monuments.  Past the cemetery I come upon the Clovelly Bowling and Recreation park where orderly teams of white uniformed players bowl on bright green manicured lawns.  What a contrast to my next site where  I find another coastside pool (Clovelly Coastside Pool) at Bundock beach.  But this time instead of people in the pool I watch some daring souls who are defying the heavy surf.  I watch as they sit on the concrete walls wait for the surf to crash over them and pull them out into the cove. As a mother I panic as I watch them rise up and down with the wave surges and swim until they get close to the wall again and then that final surge pushes them up and over the wall back to their original spot.  Oh to be young again!  

Next I see Gordon's Bay with signs to an underwater nature trail. I hear it is set up for scuba divers but on a calm day even snorkelers can follow an this 600 meter underwater self guided and signed trail. Maybe next time I'll bring my snorkel.

Now near Coogee and the end of the walk I pass by the Bali memorial to the Giles Baths.  Originally built in 1928 these "hydrotherapy" hot baths were a spa like location where "hot boxes" promised weight loss benefits and men could swim in the buff along this gorgeous coastline.  Now in disrepair the original baths are no longer in use but the location features inlets and natural pools where everyone can enjoy a swim.  As I look down to Coogee, complete with beautiful wide beach, amphitheater, park and restaurants I'm a bit tired but sad that this beautiful walk is over.   Its taken about two and a half hours to complete the walk with plenty of time for photo and water stops and time to just look out and marvel at the beauty of nature here along the New South Wales Coast.  If I have the chance to return I know that I can join the trail at various points with the only difficulty being which place to choose for a return trip!  

My Hour on an Atoll

Where on this ring of tiny islands are we going to land?”  Looking ahead I see a thin green circle of land surrounded by beautiful light turquoise water.  The plane banks sharply to the left and as we descend the green turns into coconut palms, houses show through the trees, water differentiates itself into bands of varying shades of blue and the coral reef starts to show through the clear blue water.  Finally a stretch of land with a strip of black asphalt and a white stripe down the middle appears. We slowly glide down and glancing back and forth between the windows on either side of me all I can see is water and just below me only sand.  I notice a bulldozer that has pushed sand into piles at the end of the runway and a part of a broken  sea wall that has a temporary patch of sandbags keeping potential waves off the runway.  Touchdown! and we’ve just landed at Majuro Atoll International Airport. 

Nillson called several hours ago asking me if I wanted to ride the airplane that was heading to Hawaii for an engine change.  A Boeing 737-800 doesn’t carry enough fuel to make the trip from Guam so we will have to stop at the Majuro Atoll to refuel before continuing on the Honolulu for an overnight engine change. I’ve never seen an atoll so I jump at the chance; besides, being the only passengers on a flight to Hawaii for dinner sounded like a pretty good date night. 

After tossing a few clothes into an overnight bag and taking a quick nap we met the pilots at the airport for a 2 AM departure.  As employees we used to be able to ride without a full cabin crew so on take-off, with all the pilots in the cockpit, Nillson and I were the only ones in the cabin. With nothing to see in the middle of the night we napped for a few hours until the flight crew let us know we were approaching Majuro.   At the captain’s suggestion I sat on the left side of the plane and caught my first site of an atoll.  A jeweled emerald ring highlighted in turquoise lay sunning itself in the middle of the Pacific.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of the small green islands surrounded by white sand, some joined together while others were separated by a wash of blue water.   I stared out the window until the first group of islands disappeared from view and within a few minutes I caught a glimpse of another atoll, this time it was Majuro.  

"Who would think to put an airport on this strip of land in the middle of the Pacific.  It turns out, Majuro has been inhabited for at least 2000 years. The Germans used it as a trading post in the late 1800's before being invaded by the Japanese during WWI and then taken over by the Americans during WWII when it became a major forward naval base.  Under the control of the US as a Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands, Majuro is the administrative center of the Marshall Islands and became independent in 1986.   

Thankful the pilots were able to find the thin stretch of land that served as a landing strip I feel giddy with excitement at what I've just seen.  The ground crew pulls up a set of stairs so that we can get off the plane and while Nillson confers with the mechanic and the fueler, I follow the captain into the airport.  Surprised to hear the him speaking the local language I manage to understand that he is asking permission for me to be off the plane and in the airport; this is international territory so even though it is a tiny island I should  go through customs and immigration if I want to officially get off the flight but we are only in transit.   It turns out that Jay, the captain was raised on Majuro so he speaks the language and seems to know everyone here.  We make our way to the lunch counter where the tuna sandwiches he called ahead to order are waiting for us. A seared slice of tuna, probably caught that morning no more than a few hundred feet away, was snuggled into a simple toasted bun with mayo and it could not have tasted better.  Much better than the 70% of the tuna caught here that will end up in Bumble Bee tuna cans.  Next we stop at the operations office where Jay jokes and chats with several ladies with long dark braids that reached past the smalls of their backs and with workers wearing flip flops and flowered shirts, with these laid back friendly people are the heart of the airport operations.  He is looking for Paul who will make sure we will find tuna loin when we pass through the island again on our return trip tomorrow.  After getting his paperwork and before going back out to the plane Jay shows me the handicraft shops where I buy some shell jewelry and a small, finely woven white basket made from thin stripped, bleached fronds of the pandanus tree.  I love that it is so intricate weaving!

Soon we got word that the plane had been refueled and it is time to head out again.  As we walk back to the plane I take a last look around at the palm trees that surrounded the tiny terminal and at the beautiful soaring cloud formations rising over the end of the runway.   With only an hour here I didn’t have time to learn much about how life is lived on an atoll but if it gives the gift of appreciation then I want to come back to spend more time on this beautiful jewel that is quickly fading below us.

Sea Glass - A Gift from the Sea

On a misty morning stroll, I find myself skirting the edge between a fickle receding tide where the sand is firm and easily navigated and the dry sand that slides away underfoot turning my stroll into a trek.  Thrilled to be walking on the beach below my new home and tingling with the excitement that comes from first experiences, I hear the sound of the rushing water through the pebbles, I smell the seaweed that has washed on shore and I feel the cool damp of the fine mist off the water. I know, however, that the more I am on this stretch of beach, the less vivid these sensations will be and that I may soon start to lose the intensity with which I am experiencing this special place.  I vow that I will notice the details: the sound of the waves, the color of the water, the level of the tide, the shells and rocks that wash up on the shore,everything that makes this moment in time unique.  I will make my early morning walks a daily meditation.

Today the tide is going out and I see the claws and shells of the crabs that the seagulls have just finished feasting on. I'm fascinated  by the tracks that the rivulets leave behind as the moon pulls this enormous body of water away from the shore.  I wonder why some stretches have lots of pebbles while others are made of soft sand. I notice the many different shells and then I notice something shiny.  Sea glass! Why is sea glass like a treasure?  Is it the color or the shine?  Or, is it the idea that the sea has taken something that someone has discarded, and over time has broken it, turned it, tumbled it, and slowly softened it, smoothed and shined it and made it into a treasure. Do we observe something of ourselves in the sea glass?  

I see that I am not the only person who is fascinated by this gift from the sea.  A person in the distance stops and bends down, first to examine the sand more closely and then to pick up a small treasure. Normally very easy going, I feel a surge of competitiveness rise up inside of me and I resent this stranger for finding a piece of sea glass that I might want.  I start to walk more quickly trying to find more glass before this stranger picks up "my" pieces.  Wow!!   Where is this coming from?   Surely there is enough beach and enough sea glass for both of us!  Luckily I stop myself and remember that this walk was supposed to be about noticing the beauty in the details.  Can 5 pieces of sea glass be more fascinating than one piece?  

I see so many metaphors for life in a simple walk and decide to think of this as an opportunity to remember that in life the value is not in how much we have but in how much we appreciate what we have.  Surely the color and shine in one piece of glass would bring me just as much joy as the color and shine in 5 pieces of glass.  I look at the small assortment in my hand, choose a pretty white piece whose shape reminds me of a heart and throw the other pieces back on the beach.  Will the other beachcomber pick them up? Will she appreciate 5 pieces more than one?  Maybe.  I, however, decided to pick up only one piece for every walk I would go on.  Over the years I may accumulate a collection but it will be reminder that each day brings something new and that treasuring the small things is what makes us rich.

Gondolas of Venice

Mention Venice and one of the first images that comes to my mind is a sleek, long, black laquered gondola gliding through the dark waters of the quiet canals, rowed gently by a gondolier in a striped shirt and straw hat.  As we approach a blind corner he calls out a loud "Oeh!" and then pushes off the corner with his foot as the boat nearly misses scraping the water stained walls and crumbling masonry.  Passing the wooden landing platforms with barbershop poles I imagine a time when the over 10,000 gondoliers were the only form of transportation along the 170 canals that intertwine the 118 islands that make up Venice. 

But the quiet calm of the canal is more of a dream than reality. Today's trip down the canal has us backed up in a gondola traffic jam as we wait to get out onto the Grand Canal where we compete for space with the vaporetti that serve as the island's mass transit, the beautiful wooden motor boat taxis and a dozen other flatbottomed boats that serve as delivery, trash and even floating markets.  

Even with all the traffic along the major canals a gondola ride is still a "must do" on any trip to Venice. Walk deeper into the more remote areas of the island to find your gondola and you will experience the Venice of quiet canals and old palaces.  If you have a good imagination you might even step back into the time of Casanova when gondolas had small enclosed cabins or "felze" with louvers or slats (Venetian blinds) that ensured privacy and anonymity, and competing families built extravagantly decorated boats to show off their wealth.  In 1562 however, sumptuary laws were passed to try to keep the ostentatious display of wealth throughout the city to a minimum and it was decreed that all gondolas be black.

Today the approximately 400+ flat bottomed gondolas are built entirely of wood; seven layers of black lacquer give it its glossy shine and the only metal on the boat is on the "risso" at the back of the boat and the "ferro" at the front which serves as a counter balance to the weight of the gondolier. The hood ornament or "risso" is filled with symbolism with the top curve said to resemble the doge's cap or the shape of the Grand Canal and the six prongs facing forward are said to represent the six sestieri (neighborhoods) of Venice with the rear facing prong represents the Giudecca. Some versions of the "ferro" include another three lacy forward facing prongs that represent the other three main islands of Venice: Burano, Murano and Torcello. The left side of the boat is about 10 inches longer than the right to balance out the tendency of the boat to turn to the left as the gondolier rows with the oar on the right. The beachwood oar sits on a "forcole" or oarlock which are still carved by hand, each is as individual as the rower. The forcole have eight different resting spots for oar and the eight different strokes the gondolier uses around the canals, allowing for shallow or deep strokes and fast or slow speeds.

Gondolas are still made by hand on the island of Venice on traditional workshops or "squeri" where the knowledge and plans are passed down through the generations.  Two squeri are in central Venice with one, San Trovaso, close to the Accademia Museum and on a corner of a canal where you can watch the process from across the canal.  

At a recent lunch I was thrilled to find over a dozen gondoliers having lunch at the same restaurant where we had reserved a table. My second glass of wine gave me the courage to make my way to their table to ask if I could join them at their table and take a picture to celebrate my birthday.  Good natured and friendly they made room at their table and were happy to pose with me.  After lunch as we were walking over a canal I heard a gondolier call up to me in a heavily accented voice "Heppy Beerthday! "  It was one of my lunch-mates rowing by!   

There are currently approximately 400 gondoliers in Venice.  The rights to the coveted position used to be passed down from father to son and today the license is still hard to obtain.  The gondolier must belong to the thousand year old Gondolier's Guild and train under an experience gondolier for 400 hours, pass rigorous exams that include nautical navigation, boat handling, culture, history and language skills. Gondola rides range in price from 80 to 100 Euros for a 40 minute ride.  There are numerous places to start your ride, from the more crowded areas of San Marco, Accademia and Rialto to some  more remote areas further away from the center. The further out you go the more you'll be able to chat with your gondolier to  determine you have any chemistry.  I've been disappointed by being being ushered into what amounted to a huge group tour of 20+ boats  and then on another occasion being thrilled by a wonderful gondolier who took us through back canals where he gave us a history of the area and the only other sound we could hear was the swish of the oar through the water.   If you have the time it's worth going out of your way to find a good match.  For most tourists this is a wonderful opportunity to interact with a local and learn about the beauty and history of this beautiful city.  

Visiting Pandas in Chengdu

A visit to the Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding was a special treat during my trip to Chengdu.  With a last name of Pan is was inevitable that Pandas were a favorite in our stuffed animal collection and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to visit them in person while I was in Chengdu.  Not speaking a word of Chinese I was a bit intimidated to venture too far from town on my own so I hired a guide and driver to escort me to the Research Base. For anyone planning a similar trip I would advise saving the money on a guide and taking a taxi directly to the park as its well organized for foreigners.  A tram is available to take you from the entrance uphill to the area that houses the pandas but my guide and I chose to walk the half mile through the beautiful bamboo forest.  The first building we visited was the nursery where we saw six two-month old pandas sleeping in a playpen.  I couldn't take my eyes off of them as some lay sprawled out stretching their legs behind them while others snuggled up curled into a little ball.  

When I was finally tear myself away, we walked by several enclosures where we could watch and photograph the pandas as they played on  bamboo structures, climbed trees and snacked on bamboo. I especially enjoyed watching them as they seemed to slowly flow off the bamboo structure on their way to get lunch.  Slowly, one at a time, an adolescent panda on the bamboo structure would decide it was his turn to descend; lying down, either on his back or stomach, he would first look over the edge of the structure.  Then slowly one arm and then another arm would reach down for support on a cross beam.  Ever so slowly, the rest of the body slowly poured off the platform until the rear legs were all that was left on the platform.  Then while supporting himself with his front legs, the hind legs slowly slid off the platform until finally the entire panda was on the ground.  One by one they made their way down and out of sight to have their lunch.   At another enclosure we watched as the pandas ate, ate and ate their fill of bamboo.  They looked so wonderfully relaxed as they reached up for a stalk of bamboo and then rolled onto their backs, almost lying down to chew on their food.  They have rather short digestive tracts only absorbing 20% of the nutrition available in their food so they are continuously eating, consuming between 25 to 85 pounds of bamboo per day depending on their size.

Having come this far, when I was presented with the opportunity to step into one of the enclosures and have some one-on-one time with the panda, I couldn't resist.  After paying a hefty donation in cash and then donning a hospital gown and booties to protect the panda from germs, our group was led into the enclosure. An adult panda was led into the enclosure and then, knowing what awaited her, walked right up to a wooden bench and sat down.   She knew we'd be feeding her apples and bamboo dipped in honey and happily let us sit there with her as one at a time we stroked her back and had our pictures taken with her.  I rubbed her neck and felt her lean back as she closed her eyes and seemed to relax.  I loved her fluffy yet bristly fur and noticed how my reality seemed to blur with my imagination as I thought of the cartoon Kung Fu Panda and all the stuffed animals we had at home; what a surreal experience this was!  

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Window View

As I pack for my upcoming trip I think about the long flight ahead with both excitement and dread.  As a standby traveler I am never sure of which seat I will have.  Will I sit for 11 hours in the middle of 5 seats in the back of coach?  The opportunity to have a stranger's head on my shoulder as they bob in and out of restless sleep is a distinct possibility!  Then again, I might get a business class seat or, if I'm really lucky, I could score one of the last remaining first class seats across the Pacific.   I pack my carry-on with ear plugs, eye mask, lip balm and neck pillow in anticipation of being stuck in my seat overnight.  But, if the standby gods look on me favorably, I may get a premium class seat where I'll be able to watch movies with my feet up, lean my head on a fresh pillow and enjoy some wining and dining before I drift off into sweet slumber.  Which one will it be?  I won't know my fate until the flight starts boarding so wish me luck!

Whether I sit in coach or premium class, the one thing I always treasure is a window seat.  From a seat next to the window I can turn my head away from the seemingly endless stream of fliers coming down the narrow aisle, bumping their backpacks, thump thump thump, against the seats as they search overhead to read the row numbers, hoping to find room for their overstuffed bags and crossing their fingers that they will luck out the seat next to them will remain empty.  Instead, next to a window, I can raise the shade and turn my attention to the planes that come and go on the tarmac, to the glittering lights on the runways and finally to the ground below as the world gets smaller and smaller and we climb higher and higher into the clouds.   

I love to see the highways that are usually filled with traffic, become gentle streams crisscrossing the landscape.  I love to see the neighborhoods turn into a live view of Google Earth.  I love to see what the tops of the clouds look like.  I love the way even the dreariest foggy day turns sunny once I'm 35,000 feet above the ground.  As I fly over rivers and mountains my high school geography class comes to life as I finally see what Mr. George meant when he described tributaries and buttes. Atolls and volcanoes, I've see those too!  Keeping my eye on the sky, the stress of life melts away and my thoughts drift to memories and dreams of what my trip will bring. 

Magical Mornings on Tumon Bay

Sunrise walks on Tumon Bay are magical.  Pastel blues, lavenders and pinks color the sky, clouds are reflected in the turquoise waters and the coral reefs transform the bay into a natural infinity pool.  Being on the beach just after sunrise, when the world is quiet, before the day turns into a sauna, is a perfect time for a walk.  The graceful dance of the local fishermen that quietly stalk the shoreline waiting for schools of fish before throwing their traditional lagua nets, often gives way to a colorful conversation about politics, moon cycles or a favorite way to prepare the morning's catch.  Its fun to see sand sculptures or messages written in the sand, the rainbows in the billowing clouds,  the tropical flowers and did I mention an occasional baby sharks? A "Hafa Adai" greeting from locals always make me smile and its fun to practice my "Ohayou gozaimasu", "annyeong haseyo" and "Zǎoshang hǎo" as I greet the tourists from Japan, Korea and China.  Whether they are the early risers who are out enjoying the cool morning breeze or the bleary eyed partiers making their way back to their beach-side hotels, after a night of dancing almost everyone seems to enjoy the magic of these early mornings. Whatever the rest of the day holds,  I can't think of a better way to start it off.
 
I hope you enjoy these pictures from some of my magical morning walks!