After our voyage around the Mediterranean, our ship sailed north and docked in Southampton. It was a short drive to Stonehenge in a bus full of exhausted teenagers. We had spent the previous night up all night having a very tame but late party in our dormitory. No booze, and of course no drugs, but lots of giggling. We pulled off on the side of the road and walked along the pathway to the henge. Back in 1974, you could still walk in and around the giant stones. You would think that a bus full of teenagers wandering around would not make for a peaceful experience. In fact, a number of my compatriots chose to stay on the bus and so there were only a handful of us. I was just 13 when I was there, but I still remember the peace and solemnity of the place. The wind blew across the fields, just like you might hear on the Canadian prairie. There are a few places that I have been that have exuded a feeling of spirituality: Wenaskawin buffalo jump on the prairies, Sanjusangendo Temple in Kyoto, Lynn Canyon in Vancouver, Cathedral Grove on Vancouver Island, sitting in the Louvre before the Impressionist’s work that I studied in university and admired from before that, and, of course, Stonehenge. It is sad that vandals made it impossible for people to continue to be able to walk between the stones and feel the power of the place.
There is always something special about Venice. It was special back in 1974 and it was again when I returned in 2010. The elaborate decorations on the buildings remind me of fancy lace on the end of the sleeve of Queen Victoria or some other stately woman of that era. It holds itself upright and […]
Back in 1974, this was the moment I looked out the window and saw Venice stretched out before me. This began my love affair with Italy. I am still in love with it today.
You might be wondering about today’s title. It is from the blog, East of Ma’laga where you will find the Conejo Blanco Blog Hop. It is a way of spreading the word about other blogs we read and appreciate. Two that I really enjoy are: You’ve Been Hooked and Deliberately Delicious. You’ve Been Hooked has me chuckling and laughing out loud everytime I read it. Deliberately Delicious is a thoughtful journey by a former colleague of mine who delves into the meaning of her own life.
Still in 1974, we stopped on the Greek island of Corfu. We were bussed to a small village with a beautiful beach with the plan of spending the afternoon swimming. By lucky happenstance, there was a festival and we were treated instead to an hour of traditional Greek dancing. And we still managed to get our swim in!
Just to the northeast of Tunis, on the coast, in the suburb of Carthage, lie the ruins of ancient Carthage. The political and military reach of Carthage in the 5th century BC extended all across north Africa, from Morocco to Libya and Mediterranean islands such as Corsica, Sicily, Crete Cyprus, and Sardinia.
My first foray into international travel introduced me to the magic of wandering through stones and structures that were built and used in people’s lives literally thousands of years before. It was awe inspiring, even though I really didn’t understand it fully at the time. I’m sure that my experiences of being able to touch history in this way played a real role in my becoming a history teacher.
This is a photo of my dad and I. My dad died almost three years ago and I still miss him and think about him everyday. This picture was actually taken by my mother with a little Kodak Instamatic. I am about to leave on a school trip to Europe. This was my first real travel experience and I am grateful to my dad who said yes, I could go. This experience started me on my travel journey that I suspect will go on until I die! I am also grateful that my husband, who is just as wonderful as my dad was, is just as enthusiastic about travelling.