Vacation, Italian style.

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Reading on the patio @ il Baglio, Sicily with Morgan.

Ten days, sandwiched between four days of the longest travel days I have yet to experience,  the privilege of travel has been mine, yet again. From Auckland to Sydney, Hong Kong, Rome and finally Palermo,Sicily, I wended my way to a week long family reunion followed by four days in Rome with Morgan and Caleb.

The swimming hole at the villa on Sicily, reefs all around.

This trip has been a lovely repose. Rest from work and from my persistent self-examination of my future plans.  Within our group we had historians, anthropologists, health care providers, psychologists, musicians, writers, geologists, world travelers, thinkers, activists, environmentalists, intelligent and  creative minds.  The ages spanned from 8 to 80.  Each  perspective a different view of the world.  A lovely panoply  with which to experience Sicily.  I let others plan this vacation and as a result I have been a hitchhiker of sorts.  It has been delightful.

Bella, my niece, in the amphitheater in Segesta

In Sicily, we stayed in a lovely villa on the water between Catellemare de Golfo and Scopello.  The deep blue Mediterranean water was the perfect temperature for long swims, the days were mostly sunny and warm.  We dined exceedingly well, but the best food was what we prepared ourselves from the local cheese, olive oil, tomatoes and wine.  

Lion statue that guards the "fountain of shame", Palermo

One of our first excursions was to the ancient city of Erice.  We took the gondola  up through the mist to the walled city and wandered the cobbled streets to the ruins of the cult of Venus.  That night, we dined in nearby Trapani , nearly filling the exquisite trattoria with our party alone.  Sicily, being only 100 miles from Tunisia, has a multi-cultural history from Greeks, Romans, to African travelers.   The ruins were less crowded than those we were to visit in Rome and Pompeii.   Our next archeological site was Segesta.
There, on a sunny day, we viewed ruins of Muslim mosques,  the most well preserved of Greek temples, and whispered messages in the amphitheater.   Availing ourselves of the blue water, the ocean rejuvenated us after hours of viewing ruins.

Daedulus' wall, in the Temple of Venus, Erice

About 3miles down the road from our villa near Scoppello, the Riserva Nationale de Zingaro offered a place to hike, run and swim.   This nature preserve wrestled from road construction through protest of 3,000 people, was the first in Sicily formed only in 1980. I gladly paid the 3 euro entry fee thrice.  The water teemed with fish that were not present just a few km down the road at our house.  Fishing was not permitted in the reserve.  Although fishing has been a way of life for many Sicilians for centuries,  newer fishing methods have nearly demolished the Mediterranean marine life.

Zingaro National Reserve and Marine Reserve, Sicily

Palermo, home to the airport, lays claim to being the largest city in Sicily.    We had planned a birthday present/cooking class experience for my father in Palermo.  There we braved the traffic and met at the palazzo of a duchess for cooking class. Inside the walls, a magnificent home, full of history, secret passages and elegance, hides from the chaotic Palermo street traffic.  We ventured to a loud, bustling street market to buy ingredients for our feast.  Our “graduation”  was the dinner, the sum of our efforts. 

Shopping for our ingredients in Palermo.

As with many places in Rome and Sicily, resplendent churches may have humble appearing exteriors and set in the most unassuming places, providing a sharp contrast to the hustle of the life outside its doors.  A modern city has grown up around many of these churches and ruins, almost despite them.  How does it change one’s perception to grow up in a country where ruins from thousands of years ago exist next door?  Do you have the sense things do not change much?  Or rather does the contrast of modern and ancient remind one of just how much our actions influence the world/earth?

Palermo market

Caleb and Chloe, Palermo

 Our final group archeological visit was to Salinute, the largest archeological site.  Andrew, a historian who had written about the area, guided us expertly through the streets of Salinute.  He embroidered history, recent events, engineering theories into  a lovely background that made the experience much more meaningful.  I regretted not doing my homework more thoroughly prior to my visit for all the other ruins I had visited.  Andrew joined us for dinner at a small inn nearby.  Simple, delicious, set on a patio with overhanging grape arbor and gracious hosts, it was one of my most memorable dinners with the family.  

Temple at Segesta, Sicily

Our best meal, however, was not in a restaurant, or catered, it was a pot luck birthday celebration.  The impetus for our trip and family reunion was to celebrate my father’s 80^th birthday.  His actual birthday, March 12, was the day following the earthquake in Japan, a day I had essentially missed all together, as I was preoccupied trying to reach Caleb in Japan.

Dad, Kate and Chloe at dinner in Trapani

Thankfully, I was able to celebrate his birthday during this visit.  A slide show with pictures from Dad’s life had been created, a collaboration by Lynn, Kirsten with some input from every family member. It was a lovely tribute to a kind, generous man. There were many causes for celebration during this trip; Margaret’s birthday (June 3), Kimberly’s recent graduation, Brent’s upcoming 50^th birthday.

I have a lovely, loving extended family. This trip represented a perfect time to renew our ties.  If anything, I wish I had more time to spend with each of our family.  More time to discuss what was meaningful to their lives.  I hope to make more time to continue to connect with each member.  

Following our Sicilian family reunion, Morgan, Caleb and I returned to Rome, to spend a few days together before dispersing to different sides of the globe.

Cobbled streets, Erice

Fountain of Shame: Why? "Because the monastery faces the sculpture devoted to nudists" said the carbinieri of Palermo

Rome.  A city of ruins, art,  and food.  Cobbled roads leading to piazzas with magnificent statues, ruins from ancient Romans reused, or strewn on the ground.  Yesterday, we walked to the historic city center.  We walked on streets that thousands tread annually. The same the Romans built. We visited the Colloseum, Roman Forum, Piazzas that Michelangelo designed, we made wishes at the Trevi fountain, climbed the Spanish steps, and ate fried artichokes in the Jewish quarter.  With guidebook in hand, we recalled the lives of Caligula, Nero, the Renaissance.   

The Colliseum, Rome, of course. Only a 3 hour wait to get in.

We have been accosted and succumbed to some of the typical tourist traps in Italy. Our “apartment” has no kitchen,  just a hot water heater and a refrigerator.  It does have bed bugs.  The train tickets we purchased were done so at the assistance/insistence of a woman who later asked to be paid for her help.   Sometimes ordering in a foreign language leads to interesting meals, but it is Rome, and the food has been sublime.  Particulary at a small trattoria in the Trastavere neighborhood.  The chef sat on the steps of his establishment, smoking.  He later came by to each table, talking.  Through stilted Italian, I asked if he could teach us how to prepare his dishes. He volunteered that we could come and cook with him. Perhaps on another trip to Rome...

Morgan

Caleb

It is 11:38pm the night before we depart Rome for our various homes.  The day  was spent in Pompeii wandering ruins of a city that dates to the 2^nd century BC.  Copulating frescoes, amphitheatres, wagon ruts in cobbled roads, and casts of bodies, caught fleeing the gaseous emissions of Vesuvius will live in my memory. In Pompeii, we met Kate and David (sister and her partner) which provided a sense of completion to our adventures.

Home, Pompeii

  It intrigues me that the Romans lived much as we do now.  What we revile in their culture (gladiator battles, brutality) we mirror in our own reality shows, violence on TV.  The walls of the city of Pompeii were plastered (pardon the pun) in political graffiti, dating from 2 BC!  The town was comprised of many houses, a central living area, atrium, kitchen, bathrooms.  

Fresco, in the house of prostitution, Pompeii

Mosaic floor from house in Pompeii

Large houses (2000 square meters) were built by the wealthy, while the merchants lived in the rear of their stores (bakeries, wine merchants) or in smaller homes removed from the pastoral view or main attractions.
What have we learned since Pompeiians walked these streets... in that 2000year span of time?  Electricity, the industrial revolution, democracy, nuclear reactions, motor vehicles, flight, space flight, the internet… where has it brought us?

House of Mysteries, Pompeii

 Art. Music. Sport.  All  ageless, favorite pastimes evidenced in Pompeii, Rome and Sicilian archeological ruins.  After spending the day with frescoes by Raphael and Michelangelo, I also thought about how growing up with them might impel one to sketch, to aspire to venture more into the arts than if one lived in a newer culture or lived within a more electronic/internet aged culture.

Outdoor market, Hong Kong... (with similarities to Palermo)

Outdoor market. Hong Kong

  The internet has brought us the ease of answering questions, of witnessing great art, music, of connecting with others across the globe even as I do now.  Standing in the Sistine Chapel,  walking in the footsteps of ancient Romans, seeing walls purportedly built by mythical heroes, swimming in the blue ocean, smelling the sun baked earth of Sicily, hugging my sisters, playing with my niece… the richness of experience cannot be surplanted by tales and photos delivered on a screen.

Eat. Converse.  Seek out art, music, people.  Live history.  Experience.  This is what I bring home with me. Hopefully, I will remember to do the same once I am back in my usual routine!

Ciao Roma!

Downtown Hong Kong fountain

Roof top in Hong Kong with windmill. Green energy at work

Home from the holiday!

Sicily's sun baked red earth, Greek ruins, small cobblestone streets  are now just a memory.  Today, Caleb and I flew in from Hong Kong where we had a layover which afforded a trip to downtown and noodles for breakfast.  Sandwiched between our Hong Kong excursion and a week in Sicily, were four days of walking (and eating!) the cities of Rome and Pompeii. It seems miraculous that just two days ago we were in the midst of summer.  Auckland? Winter has officially arrived. It is in the 50s, cloudy with rain threatening.  After 30 hours of flying and little sleep, I relish the weekend to relax, wash clothes and prepare for the work week ahead.
Further posts with pictures to come!

Christchurch (Chch) and, finally, Home!

Lyttleton Harbour, south of Christchurch(Chch)

We arrived in Christchurch after several hours of driving in the rain from Dunedin.  The downtown portion of Christchurch has been cordoned off since the earthquake in February.  Recently, a few of the streets had been opened.  We parked the car, needing to stretch our legs and went in search of a place to spend the night.  The experience of walking on the outskirts of downtown was chilling.

The lovely old churches were the worst damaged buildings

Fences surround the business district of Chch. No traffic.  The empty streets are eerie.

Seeing buildings that had crumbled and still appeared as they did months ago, bricks scattered across the road, attested to the extent of devastation.  It was voyeuristic in some way, like watching the scene of a traffic accident as you drive by.  Buildings still had their spray painted signs that they had been searched and cleared.  All the buildings in Chch bear a sign denoting its safety status.  Red: danger, not fit for entry.  We walked for quite some time before reaching the motel area as we had to skirt the city entirely.  Most of the motels were full and we retraced our steps, jumped into the car to start our search for other motels.  We were lucky to find something close to the park and settled in for the night.

If you were to only see part of the building, it would appear completely normal... then you turn the corner and see that half of the building lies on the pavement that was once a sidewalk.

Workers are overwhelmed. Rocks still strewn as they fell 3 months ago.

Our last day on the south island was clear and warm.  We decided to try one of the many tracks for which Chch is known.  One of the favorites is the hike connecting Chch with Lyttleton, a small township south of town, over a small hill.  Our plan was to drive to Lyttleton and hike over the top of the ridge, then return and enjoy lunch in Lyttleton.  What we found was a small town that had been uprooted by the earthquake.  The local pub had opened in a trailer parked on the side of the road.  The other businesses did not look at all ready for customers.  We parked to hike the Bridle trail but after climbing several streets to the signpost, we found the track was also closed due to earthquake damage.  Instead, we walked the hillside streets, finding rents in driveways, some homes that appeared sound, yet marked by the dreaded red sign.

One of our planned hikes...

Caleb did get to meet with David once more before leaving the south island.  Our flight home was uneventful.  Once home, we had the pleasure of a visit from Morgan's friend Jillian, who cooked a curry dinner while I started on the mountainous pile of laundry.  Lovely to be home.  Spoiled by having dinner prepared for us, we returned the gesture by giving Jillian a ride to the airport on a clear starry morning.  Over dinner and on the ride to the airport, we reviewed all the things she might miss about NZ, and all the things that it would be lovely to return to see and experience.   " A new adventure awaits!" said Jillian...

I would have loved to hike this track, whose entry is adorned with a Maori carving...

Tomorrow, I will be back at work.

Only 3 weeks until my dad's 80th birthday celebration & family reunion in Sicily!!!! The whole family will attend.
Yes, I truly am blessed!

Dunedin

Otago Penninsula, outside Dunedin

Tuesday May 3.  Hogwartz Backpackers, Dunedin.

The rain outside thwarted our albatross and penguin sighting, though I stubbornly attempted none the less.  The result? Cold, wet and tired with a mild bit of ennui mixed in, Caleb and I returned to the backpackers that used to house the bishop.  Tea, granola bars and books will be my dinner tonight, as I our late lunch sated me and the rain dissuades me from another outing to the grocery store.  Tomorrow we leave Dunedin after breakfast and one more tour of the city, climbing the steepest street in the world.  We have been gone for 10 days now, and I am ready for my own bed, food, and clean clothes. 

Dunedin is a small city, where many Scots settled, at the neck of a peninsula jutting into the Pacific.  Rolling hills of the Otago Peninsula are dotted with sheep.  The coast is home to the yellow eyed penguin, blue penguin, and Royal Albatross.   We ventured to the Albatross Center, but missed the last tour of the nests where two albatross chicks can be viewed.  We were able to watch video footage of the fluffy gargantuan birds. The parents soar above the cliffs, dwarving the seagulls that usually are found careening about the tip of the peninsula.  We also visited the St. Clair Sea pool, but it was closed for the season.  The pool sits above St. Clair beach, and pictures when the pool is open show waves curling up over the wall and filling the pool.   We walked down to Tunnel beach, where a tunnel has been hewn out of the sandstone cliffs, yielding access to a beach from which to view the beautiful rock formations that is home to many shag and other seabirds.

Tunnel Beach

 Sketchy looking tunnel to the beach

 Although it is a small city, Dunedin boasts a museum, university, and botanical Garden, whose aviary served as the turn-around point of my run this morning.  We looked at the University of Otago and, on a whim, asked about medical school for international students.  We were told that they do not accept any international medical students.  In a country that is stricken by a diminishing medical student applicants and an increasing demand for medical practitioners, it is an enigma why they limit the field of applicants. 

Having evacuated Caleb from Japan due to concerns over potential radiation threats, I feel somewhat responsible for the predicament he now finds himself in.  He had a plan for the year, and a job.  When he left Japan, he had three days to tell the company if he planned to return.  Information about the radiation was slim at that point and all that was known was that Japan was not revealing the extent of the true issue.  The US had evacuated the diplomatic corps from Nagoya, where Caleb lived.  He decided not to return to Japan.

Start of the Kepler Track: one of the great walks in NZ

The issue of what Caleb should do next has been niggling.  One option is medical school.  New Zealand does a better job of providing doctors with a balanced lifestyle than the US medical system.  But for Caleb, he now needs to consider what he wants out of life, asking himself deep questions: Who am I? What do I want from my career? What kind of life do I envision for myself? Where do I want to live? How do I want to live?  What are my strengths, weaknesses?  What is my passion?  How do I wed all of this into the fabric of my life?  I too have been asking these questions, but have yet to refine the answers.  Let me know if you have…

"hut" to hut camping on the Kepler

Coming down from the hut, overlooking Lake Te Anu.  The Kepler track is one of NZ great walks and is so popular, reservations must be made up to a year in advance to hike the track.

Tomorrow we begin to wend our way to Christchurch and the end of our vacation.  The vacation has been a good mixture of visits and activity.  We hiked 28k of the Kepler track, one of the great walks in Fiordlands, kayaked Milford Sound, and took a cruise down Doubtful Sound.  In retrospect, the trip has been a lesson in geology, from the visiting the Fox and Franz Joseph glaciers, to seeing the results of plate tectonics in the mountains of fiordland, which continue to rise 1cm annually.  New Zealand is a place rich with natural history. The south island is much less populated than the north.  Lessons in biology, predators, prey and biodiversity  underlie  bird and marine life viewing.  In the kayak in Milford Sound, the caucophony of birdsong reminded me of childhood birding excursions to the Everglades.  It also came as a bit of a surprise that I have not heard its equal in many decades, a testament to the loss of songbirds in my lifetime.  

End of our hike: Lake Te Anu at Sunset.

Milford Sound by kayak.

Here in Milford Sound, small niches exist.  There is one valley known as Sinbad Gully, for example, where the Sinbad Skink lives.  No other place on earth can this particular skink be found...

Caleb in the bow; kayaking Milford Sound

A peaceful, quiet and personal experience of Milford Sound can be had via kayak.

Thus the vacation has been a perfect mixture of adventures, reflections, thoughtful discussions and reunions with friends.  Now, the weather has turned toward its usual winter pattern here, and urges me to return to my usual rhythm of work, rest, reflection, and play.  A good, strong rhythm with which to dance my life.

Early morning mist on Lake Manapouri, the gateway to Doubtful Sound.

 

Doubtful Sound is more remote and 10 times larger than Milford Sound.  We took a boat across Lake Manapouri, a bus over the pass, and boarded a second boat to cruise Doubtful Sound.  Captain Cook named this fjord "Doubtful Harbour" as he was not convinced it was navigable.

 The water of Doubtful Sound has a layer of fresh water on top.  This layer does not mix with the saline water below.  Tanins in the fresh water filter the light.  Many deep sea creatures are found in Doubtful Sound as a result.   When they turned the motors off, and quiet reigned, the sound was at its most beautiful.  If I come back this way, I would like to kayak Doubtful Sound as well...

Glaciers to Fiordlands ( yes, that is how it is spelled)

Franz Joseph Glacier, South Island, NZ

What happens in spring here...

Franz Joseph Glacier

Mt Cook

Yesterday, Caleb and I visited two glaciers which reach toward the sea.  Our day was geologic showcase of glaciers, volcanoes, and two very different flora: alpine and subtropical.  Walking up to these glaciers in a bowl of sheer cliffs was magnificent.

Walk to Franz Joseph Glacier

  Large cliffs loomed next to a flat river bed of stones.  Boulders had been tossed into the rock field below the glaciers, while others had been pulverized into the grey water that emerged below the glacier.

Cliffs @ Fox Glacier

early morning Lake Matheson

We spent the night in Fox, rising to walk around Lake Matheson and gaze at Mt. Cook in the distance.

Mt. Cook

Lake Matheson

Lake Matheson

Driving from the glaciers over Haast Pass , through Wanaka, Queenstown and into Otago Region, the scenery changes dramatically.  In some places, the mountains and ranches reminded us of western Rockies, in others, the coastline of California and others, the green of Washington and Oregon.  Palms and cabbage trees from the coast yielded to Pine and poplar-cousins in the area around Wanaka.  Yet the only large  animals are the ones behind fences as few wild large mammals exist in this county. No bear, antelope, or deer.  Rabbits and fuzzy-tailed possum abound, but are reviled as invasive species, responsible for the destruction of native flora and fauna.

Southern S. Island coast

Haast Pass

North of Wanaka, Otago

While I drove, I had ample time to let my thoughts wander. I have been considering the two medical systems and how they could learn from each other.  To the kiwi, I would cut down length of stay in hospital, reduce turn over time in theater (surgery), and move many minor procedures out of the operating theatre and into procedure rooms.  I would hope to increase access to screening tests.  To the US, I would recommend reduced work hours ( to make medicine tenable and incur less provider burn out), coverage for everyone for emergencies at least,  more barriers to malpractice suits (frivolous ones), and some measure of cost containment/prioritizing.  Granted there is no perfect system.  I see problems with both systems, benefits to both, and  political machinations that mean change is slow , full of confrontation.  I also see medical care costs increasing.  A two tiered system exists where the rich can get what they need, when they need it and the rest have large gaps in care, long waiting times.

Central Otago

It's autumn in Otago...

We arrived in Te Anau after a long day of driving to find a gem: Keiko’s cottages.  Caleb’s Japanese came in handy as he conversed with the woman who owned the cottages.  Reduced end of the season rates were offered and we were shown a roomy cottage complete with kitchen and electric nabe pot.  Caleb introduced me to the Japanese stew cooked at the table, and finished off with noodles, a delightful way to start the exploration of fiordlands.  Tomorrow, we will hike the Kepler track, or at least part of it.

Sunset in Otago