El Cabrero has not traveled widely in Europe. To be exact, my travels there consist of a few very cool Italian cities and a German airport. But I feel like I spent a couple days there without crossing the Atlantic in Montreal, a place I could get used to.
Many pictures were taken, some of which may wind up here. But first, I may have stumbled upon an anthropological mystery...could it be that French Canadians represent the Lost Tribe of West Virginia hillbillies?
How else could you explain this?
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
August 10, 2012
Road fever
LAST WORD goes to Ken Ward at Coal Tattoo.
GOAT ROPE ADVISORY LEVEL: ELEVATED
March 02, 2012
Travel gods
I have always felt an affinity for Odysseus. Not that I sacked Troy or blinded a cyclops or anything that dramatic. It's just that
1. much of my life involves the use of cunning (or at least attempts thereof);
2. I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to get home; and
3. he and I both seem to have offended the travel gods at some point in the past. In his case, it was Poseidon. I'm not sure which Olympian has jusrisdiction over air travel.
Today, I'm hoping to make it home through what promises to be stormy skies. I hope it won't take me 10 years like it did him.
AN INTERESTING QUESTION was raised by Ken Ward at Coal Tattoo today. My guess is the answer would be no.
GOOD HEALTH ADVICE: keep moving.
URGENT FLYING DINOSAUR WITH COOL TEETH UPDATE here.
GOAT ROPE ADVISORY LEVEL: ELEVATED
1. much of my life involves the use of cunning (or at least attempts thereof);
2. I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to get home; and
3. he and I both seem to have offended the travel gods at some point in the past. In his case, it was Poseidon. I'm not sure which Olympian has jusrisdiction over air travel.
Today, I'm hoping to make it home through what promises to be stormy skies. I hope it won't take me 10 years like it did him.
AN INTERESTING QUESTION was raised by Ken Ward at Coal Tattoo today. My guess is the answer would be no.
GOOD HEALTH ADVICE: keep moving.
URGENT FLYING DINOSAUR WITH COOL TEETH UPDATE here.
GOAT ROPE ADVISORY LEVEL: ELEVATED
July 18, 2011
Home sweet home
El Cabrero is taking this week WAY off. Home base these days is a funky building in Siena Italy which was said to have been the home of the Napoleonic governor of the city more than 200 years ago.
It has modern amenities, such as wireless internet and all that. But the gym is strictly old school. It consists of the original kind of stairmaster. And it's only 98 steps from the ground floor to our apartment.
There is an elevator, but that's for candy asses.
Fortunately, it's a room with a view.
July 17, 2011
Of air travel, bardos and hell
El Cabrero is WAY out of town this week. At the moment, I'm in Siena, Italy and will be hereabouts for around a week. It's a beautiful city, about which more later. But getting here was another story.
One way of dating myself is to say that I'm so old I remember when flying was cool. Maybe it always is to kids at a certain age. Nowadays a long flight, with all the layovers and such is a pretty miserable thing, especially for those of us who only fly economy class.
When I'm going on a good trip, I tend to rationalize it. The misery of getting there is a ritual of purification. The misery of getting back is a way of paying, in part anyway, for any good times that were had.
Airports kind of remind me of the bardos of Tibetan Buddhism. Bardos are transitional states between one life an another, liminal "places" where one experiences reflections of one's own karma.
Since one reason for my trip is to join the Spousal Unit who is studying Dante in Italy this summer, airport time also reminded me of how in his Inferno the souls of the damned are anxious to get to their destination, no matter how miserable it will be. It occurred to me that when one is on a long series of air trips, one longs for the next leg, no matter how cramped and sleepless it will be.
This time around, however, I'm pleased to say that even on my first day here the misery of the flight was worth it.
One way of dating myself is to say that I'm so old I remember when flying was cool. Maybe it always is to kids at a certain age. Nowadays a long flight, with all the layovers and such is a pretty miserable thing, especially for those of us who only fly economy class.
When I'm going on a good trip, I tend to rationalize it. The misery of getting there is a ritual of purification. The misery of getting back is a way of paying, in part anyway, for any good times that were had.
Airports kind of remind me of the bardos of Tibetan Buddhism. Bardos are transitional states between one life an another, liminal "places" where one experiences reflections of one's own karma.
Since one reason for my trip is to join the Spousal Unit who is studying Dante in Italy this summer, airport time also reminded me of how in his Inferno the souls of the damned are anxious to get to their destination, no matter how miserable it will be. It occurred to me that when one is on a long series of air trips, one longs for the next leg, no matter how cramped and sleepless it will be.
This time around, however, I'm pleased to say that even on my first day here the misery of the flight was worth it.
July 14, 2011
"I am shocked, shocked..."
El Cabrero is about to hit the bird's road, to borrow a metaphor from Beowulf. I'm flying today to Italy for a week or so where the Spousal Unit has been studying Dante these days. I plan on doing some posting from abroad, but probably on an irregular schedule.
My travel plans were interrupted Wednesday evening, however. As I was exercising on a stationary bicycle, I started feeling woozy. Then I was shocked in the chest, which felt about like being kicked there.
As a martial artist, I am used to being kicked in the chest, but still it was disconcerting to experience this in the absence of a tangible human foot. I wondered what was up until I remembered the internal defibrillator that was installed there a few years ago and which hadn't done anything up till now. Over the next few minutes, it shocked me two more times.
I wasn't sure how serious it was, so I took a moment to compose myself in case it was The Big One and then set about practical things like calling 911, changing clothes, etc. During all this time, for some reason I took bizarre comfort in remembered lines of the divine Miss Emily Dickinson's death poems.
My travel plans were interrupted Wednesday evening, however. As I was exercising on a stationary bicycle, I started feeling woozy. Then I was shocked in the chest, which felt about like being kicked there.
As a martial artist, I am used to being kicked in the chest, but still it was disconcerting to experience this in the absence of a tangible human foot. I wondered what was up until I remembered the internal defibrillator that was installed there a few years ago and which hadn't done anything up till now. Over the next few minutes, it shocked me two more times.
I wasn't sure how serious it was, so I took a moment to compose myself in case it was The Big One and then set about practical things like calling 911, changing clothes, etc. During all this time, for some reason I took bizarre comfort in remembered lines of the divine Miss Emily Dickinson's death poems.
After a plethora of tests and a miserable 24+ hours, it looks like the machine mistook a fairly minor cardiac incident for a major one.
Game on!
Game on!
April 02, 2010
A lifelong marathon
Shorin-ryu karate master Shoshin Nagamine, 1907-1997.
If all goes well I'm off to Okinawa today for almost two weeks. More posts are planned for this period but the time may be a bit off (as will I).
As I've mentioned many times before, I'm going to spend a little time studying karate in the land of its origin. It is a deep discipline, and one that has enriched my life. Here's a quote from Shoshin Nagamine's classic text The Essence of Okinawan Karate Do that expresses some of its depth and some of the reasons I've tried to stay with it over the years:
Karate is self-training in perfection, a means whereby a man my obtain that expertise in which there is not the thickness of a hair between a man and his deed. It is a training in efficiency. It is a training in self-reliance. Its rewards are here and now, for it enables a person to meet any situation with exactly the right expenditure of effort, neither too much nor too little, and it gives him control of his otherwise wayward mind so that neither physical danger from without nor rampant passion from within can dislodge him.
Needless to say, I haven't gotten there yet, and am in no danger of getting there. But I'd like to get a little closer. Nagamine again:
Karate-do may be referred to as the conflict within yourself, or a life-long marathon which can be won only through self-discipline, hard training and your own creative efforts.
No links today. Adios!
GOAT ROPE ADVISORY LEVEL: UNKNOWN
March 29, 2010
The hazards of travel
The Precious.
El Cabrero is going to hit the road, or rather the sky, this Friday for a trip to Okinawa, the Holy Land of karate. I've been trying to prepare for it in more ways than one, but there are always the hazards and sorrows of travel.
Example #1: Separation from the Beloved. For nearly two weeks, I am not going to be able to see, touch or interact with the object of my affections. I am referring, of course to my iPhone. Data roaming charges overseas can be very expensive. I don't think I've ever gone without the Precious for that long before. This is gonna be tough.
Oh yeah, and I'm going to miss the Spousal Unit and all the other humans and critters as well.
Example #2. Time changes. I don't know about y'all, but I was thrown for a loop last week with the switch to daylight savings time. I can't imagine what an 11 hour difference is going to do. I'll probably just get functional when it's time to leave.
Example #3. My speech disorder. On the plus side, I know a lot of Japanese words. Unfortunately, these tend to be technical things like side thrust kick (yoko geri kekomi), shoulder throw (seionage), or triangle choke (sankaku jime) or else philosophical terms like no-mindedness (mushin). This could be a problem.
To make things worse, I have a weird speech disorder. Perhaps because I was late in learning a foreign language (I had to marry somebody to do it), my brain does weird stuff. Every time, for example, that I go to an ethnic restaurant, I find myself speaking Spanish regardless of what kind of restaurant it is. That works fine at Mi Pueblita or Tenampa but not so much at Sitar of India or Taste of Asia.
I have a feeling this trip is gonna do wonders for my Spanish...
POLITICAL CLIMATE CHANGE. The NY Times reports that cap and trade may be out as a way of dealing with climate change.
MICRO-LENDING has long been in the economic development mix in the developing world. It might be gaining a toehold in the US.
WHAT'S BEHIND THE RAGE? It might not be health care reform.
PSYCHOPATHS might have different brains.
GOAT ROPE ADVISORY LEVEL: ELEVATED
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
News Feed (RSS & Atom)
