A Few Quick Observations

If you haven't seen Slumdog Millionaire, you should. This is a deeply moving film about hope and love against a backdrop of violence and unimaginable poverty. It's a fable and a metaphor for our time.

Late-breaking Square Dance Bulletin - Tim and I went to the DC Lambda Squares' community dance last night. It's theme was 50th Birthday Party. So I wore some original 50s gear that I acquired when the club danced at the Hillwood Museum and Gardens. I looked pretty good, and those fifty-year-old clothes were pretty spiffy.

Tim and I went to the Corcoran today, the last day of the Richard Avedon show. You missed it, if you missed it. Avedon captured the souls of the great ones for a couple of generations. Their ghosts come to life in this exhibition. As Tim said, "Beware of cameramen who want to take your portrait." The result isn't always a pretty picture. Why didn't Avedon ever take a picture of Annie Liebovitz? And if he did, why wasn't it hanging on the wall of the Corcoran... life's little mysteries? And why wasn't Avedon's image of Rudolph Nureyev's jewels pictured in the exhibit's catalogue? And why was Yeoman 3rd Class B. Murphy Stovie absent from the same book with his fabulous grin and his happy right hand? Does the Corcoran host a vast right-wing conspiracy that is out to censor homoerotic or gay-themed content from exhibition catalogues? Hmmmm.

Then it was on to the OAS to see an exhibition of art about the Desaparecidos. These were victims of the military dictatorships of Uruguay, Chile, Argentina, Guatemala, and El Salavador. The words somber and depressing pretty much sum it up, but the bones, the images, the stories are a grim reminder that when the state has absolute power, freedom is extinguished in violent and ugly ways. These regimes were not attempting to rehabilitate their critics. They were exterminating them. Of course, it makes me wonder who has disappeared in our own war on terror?

Finally, we ended up at the Katzen Arts Center at American University. We saw a disturbing exhibition of the work of Evri Kwong, Just Pretend Everything is Okay. Kwong's work is a polemic about our drugged out, consumerist, racist, mysogynist, violent culture. His paintings, his Sharpie doodles, are biting and satirical indictments of cultural values gone bad.

Well, after that downer, we headed back to Rockville for some hot sex, a nap, and two episodes of The Office. That was this month's attempt at culture.

What Really Happened in Portugal

One of the most satisfying accomplishments of the Portuguese vacation was having the confidence to talk with the people we met. My sister, Grace, and I gained that confidence because we had taken an intensive language course the first week we were in Portugal. It didn't get us even close to conversing in Portuguese, but it provided enough language for us to survive, figure out, and listen. The class was also valuable for us because it provided lots of information about Portugal's culture and history.

We also used an exceptional phrasebook, Lonely Planet's Portuguese Phrasebook. The book was extremely useful, especially for its Portuguese/English, English/Portuguese glossary. The book was well-thumbed by the end of the trip. Here are the basics: 1) learn Hello, good day, good afternoon, good evening, excuse me, and thank-you. 2) Learn the present tenses of to be, to have, to go, to see. 3) Study the menus, and order off the Portuguese part of the menu. 4) Learn directions, (right and left) prepositions (in front of, behind, next to, in, on, under, etc.). 5) Learn some help phrases: where is..., how much..., how many.... 6) Figure out bus schedules, subway maps, etc. If you can understand or hear this range of vocabulary, you'll do very well, even though you can't speak the language.

We found out very quickly that if we started conversations with "Excuse me" everyone we talked to wanted to help. The Portuguese are a very friendly people. After a "Bom dia!" it was easy to say, "Fala ingles?" (Do you speak English?) If the person didn't speak English, it didn't matter, because he or she was bound and determined to help you anyway, and if the new found friend did speak English, well, these American tourists were an excellent opportunity for language practice!

For much less than the price of the language class (it was expensive), I could have hired a tourguide, and probably gained much the same information, but this approach requires some discipline. I would have needed to have studied the phrasebook in some depth before going to Portugal. The language course was very intense, but its biggest problem was that we were in class from 8:30 a.m. until 5 p.m. so our sightseeing on class days was limited to the evening. Some days we were so exhausted (from class and jet lag), that we simply went back to the hotel and crashed. I think next time, though, I'll hire the tourguide, and study the phrasebook before travelling.

My sister and I were touched by the friendliness, and graciousness of everyone we met. We loved the food, although after having many bacalhau dishes, I decided that my taste buds needed a break from salted cod. Another travel tip: we soon discovered that sharing an entree and a salad was more than enough for both of us to eat, and we rounded out the meals with soup and dessert. Don't skip dessert!

I am already thinking about where I want to go when I go back to Portugal. We spent six days in Lisbon (at school), sightseeing in the evenings. We rented a car, and headed onto Óbidos for a few days, via Sintra. Sintra was the summer home of Portuguese royalty. The palace is quite a nice pile of bricks. High above the town is the old Moorish castle. Don't miss going to the castle. It's a romantic ruin, and be sure to hike up from the town to get the full effect.

Óbidos is a walled town set on a hill. It used to be on an estuary that opened into the Atlantic Ocean, but has silted up over the centuries. A major battle of the Peninsular War was fought on the plains outside the town. We stayed here for two full days, taking in the life of a very touristy town. Óbidos is beautiful. We wandered through most of its streets and walkways. Several kilometers from Óbidos, is the sea town of Peniche. During Salazar's regime, the town had a notorious political prison, which today is a museum. The area has some beautiful beaches, and we spent a quiet morning, walking the beach picking up pebbles.

From Óbidos, we headed up to Porto for a couple of nights. On our way, we toured the Roman ruins at Conimbriga. The site has been extensively excavated, and it has a good museum that explains the site.

We arrived in Porto at rush hour. We had no clue where our hotel was. We ended up stopping at a gas station to ask for directions, and also purchased a comprehensive city map. It was a little bizarre, we knew we were in the right neighborhood, but finding the street was difficult. Also, even though I didn't know where I was going, all the drivers behind me knew exactly where they were going. A lot of honking, gesticulating, and a couple of evil eyes ensued. It took us about two hours to find the hotel and park the car. This was after racing down narrow one way streets, and not being able to pull over to read the map, or read the street signs. I was pretty much of a wreck by the time I got the car parked.

A word about driving: nobody obeys the speed limit. Tailgating is a national activity, but you get used to it, and that's just the way it is. After a couple of days, it didn't bother me, but the first day, it raised my blood pressure considerably.

The Lonely Planet folks also have a pretty comprehensive Portuguese Guide. In the description of Porto, it had a walking tour of the city. We followed the guide, and took a wonderful walk in an old historic city, appreciating its place in Portuguese culture and history. Porto is a real working-class town. It's proud of its heritage. We had a port tasting (of course!), visited several over-the-top barouque churches, and saw the birthplace of Henry the Navigator.

I handed the guide book to Grace and told her to tell me where she wanted to go. So from Porto we headed to Vila Nova de Foz Côa. This village is near a valley that is full of paleolithic etchings - the largest collection in the world, about 17,000. The etchings are in a national park that is protected. You can only go into the park with a guide, and that is what we did. It's mind-boggling to know that this area had been inhabited 20,000 years ago. There's a lot of anthropological mystery surrounding the etchings, a lot of unanswered questions.

It was also in Vila Nova de Foz Côa that our credit cards didn't work. For some reason, our MasterCards weren't being accepted in the ATM machine at the town's bank. I was a little unnerved (maybe the financial crisis was getting personal), thinking we might be stranded in a small town in the middle of Portugal, but a couple of hours later, I was able to use the ATM. As it turned out, Grace was never able to get her MasterCard to work, and mine was not accepted everywhere, but I had no problem with my Visa card.

The next day, we drove north to Bragança. It is the seat of the dukedom from which the fourth dynasty of the royal family took its name. The town has a citadel sitting on a high hill that contains the old town, a church, a keep, and the oldest municipal building in Portugal. Climb to the top of the keep. You'll get an impressive view of Bragança and the surrounding country. Also, take a drive into the national park north of the city. You'll have the opportunity to see some ancient villages pretty much the way they've always been.

Bragança was the place of our flat tire incident. For your information, traffic circles are about the only flat places in the city, so that's where I changed the flat tire. And you don't have to speak Portuguese to negotiate the purchase of a new tire. Finally, if you stop at a patisserie while you are getting your tire changed, it puts you in a much better mood.

Our final destination was Guimarães. I wanted to go there because it is the birthplace of the Portuguese state, and it had a castle and a palace. The palace is one of the official residences of the President of Portugal. Salazar used it as one of his residences when he was Prime Minister. We took the tour of the palace, and like all the palaces we visited, made me appreciate the creature comforts of 2101 Bucknell Terrace. The palace (built in the style of a French chateau) contains some beautiful tapestries and life-size angel candleholders among other treasures. Above the palace is the local castle. Originally built to protect a monastery from Moorish depradations, it was later fortified by one of the Dukes of Bragança, so that he could prevent the King of Leon from reasserting control of the duke's fiefdom. That act of independence was the beginning of Portugal. You can also climb to the top of the keep in this castle and get quite of view of the city.

Guimarães is a city of about 50,000, but the old town is much smaller, and very walkable. It has exceedingly narrow streets, and a one-way grid that makes a compelling case for parking the car and walking. We stayed at a cozy residencia overlooking two streets, and were greeted by the recycling truck at 2 a.m., the garbage truck at 3 a.m., and a little barky dog in between.

This summary only hits a few of the highlights. We had a swell vacation!

Back in the US of A

Go Barack!

While in Portugal, we saw pictures of our president looking like he was a deer caught in the headlights, and headlines streaming across the TV "America in Crisis." We couldn't understand the Portuguese, but we figured out from looking at W. that something was not quite right. I promise never again to leave America when it's in crisis. It's the least I can do for it.

Yep, I'm back home. I'm glad to be here, too. I was eating way too much food on the cruise ship, although I did not gain any weight when I was gone. However, the flab redistributed itself in an obnoxious way, and I look vaguely like Demi Moore on the cover of Vanity Fair. Oh well.

Life at Bucknell Terrace is getting back up to speed. I'm going to a square dance tonight in costume, because, after all, it is the season. It shows off my stomach well. Even if you can't see my abs, you can see my abdomen. I look so sexy!

Happy's New Square Dancing Outfit

Three Coins in a Fountain...

Well, I'm not Audrey Hepburn, but I did see the Trevi Fountain today. Ron and I took a sightseeing bus around Rome today, and managed to walk a few kilometers as well. I left you all in Braganca. A lot has happened since then, and I thought I'd try to recount some adventures since then.

The note I sent you from Braganca was from my Blackberry. Blackberry service in the northeastern reaches of Portugal is pretty iffy, so that message did not actually get you to guys until early this morning, after Grace had flown home to Chicago, and I'd arrived in Rome. So sit back, and here's some news....

Before we visited Braganca, we stayed the night n a small high desert town of Vila Nova Foz de Coa, which is the gateway to a national historic park. Originally the area of the park was going to be underwater in a hydroelectric project, but in the process of doing environmental assessments, paleolithic etchings were discovered in the valley, in fact, over 17,000 have been catalogued ranging from 20,000 to 5,000 years ago.

When Grace read about the site in our guidebook, she really wanted to go, so we reserved our tickets, then aimed our car in that direction, drove 150 miles through some beautifully mountainous country, and ended up in a remote Portuguese village. We went into the park in a guided tour. The guide not only told us about the etchings, but told us a lot about the theories about the earliest inhabitants of the valley, their way of life, and talked with us about why they would create these drawings, and the mysteries and questions that the drawings raise. For example, etchings are often done on top of each other, and a single rock canvas may contain sets of drawings that span thousands of years, and next to this jumble of etchings will be a clear, flast rock surface with nothing on it. Why didn't the later artists etch on the unused surfaces? It is a pretty incredible place, and you should add it to your list of places to visit.

So the next day, we finally got to Braganca. I wanted to go there, because Braganca is where the third Portuguese royal dynasty came from. It in the far northeastern part of the country. The area is very mountainous, and the climate is probably a lot like Moscow's. Almost immediately after getting to town, I hit a curb, and gashed the sidewall of one of the rear tires. Oops.

We went to a tourist office to find where we could get the tire repaired, and after that, I drove the car to a traffic circle, because it was about the only flat place in Braganca, and I changed the tire amidst the whizzing traffic of the circle. My life was never once in danger, but it really looked dramatic. Just ask Grace.

At that point, we headed off for the garage, which was closed for lunch, so we had some ourselves at a pastry shop. The owner's daughter came out to take our order, and we proceeded to have this wonderful conversation. The Portuguese are exceedingly friendly, and she was so happy that we were visiting her country. She also gave us a free dessert and coffee, so We were very happy to visit her country, too.

We were first in line when the garage opened. When the attendant saw our car, he immediately knew the problem. He put us on the lift immediatley, removed the temporary tire, and haulted the injured tire out of the trunk. He then stuck his finger through the hole in the sidewall, and gestured that we would need a new tire. He didn't speak English, but we quickly found ways to communicate that left no doubt about what needed to be done. He was a very nice fellow, and went out of his way to help Grace and I get through the whole ordeal, even granting us a lot of dignity in the process. It was almost as if everyone we ran into wanted us to think the very vest of Portugal. I was touched by the generous nature of the people we met.

Well, we got our wheels back, we went back to our hotel, and then set out for the town's museum and castle. The museum featured masks that are used in the winter festivals in this region of Portugal and Spain. Grace and I enjoyed the museum and the gift shop next door. The masks incorporate many different materials and style. I'd like to see some of the festivals in which the masks are worn. Next, we walked over to look at the castle. By this time, it was late in the day, but I told Grace that I wanted to come back the next day to go inside the castle.

And that's what we did. This was a true fairy tale castle. Prince Valiant could live here. And it comes complete with armor swords and a couple of howitzer guns downstairs, because the castle is a military museum, too. The museum is housed in the keep, which rises at least a hundred feet over the other battlements. We climbed up to the roof, and had a majestic and commanding view of Braganca. We also walked along the battlements, and pretended it was 500 years ago. This castle was was built in the 1200s to protect Portugal's northeast corner from the kingdom of Leon.

On Saturday afternoon, after the castle, Grace and I drove into the national park, north of the city, and drove through a half-dozen ancient villages. It is like nothing I've done before. We are in such a different place here. This is not Kansas anymore. The beauty, the differene of place deeply moved us both. It is difficult for me to express how special this trip was for Grace and me. I think we will remember it for many years, and you all will probably get tired of us talking about it.

So the next day, it was time for us to say goodbye to Braganca, and get on the road to Guimaraes, which is the birthplace of the Portuguese state, and believe me, the town wants you to know that! I'm going to save that description for another day, because I know you all want to get to the end of this email.

Ron and I send our love. Tomorrow, we're headed off to see the Sistine Chapel. We saw the Pope today at St. Peter's Square. So did several thousand other people. We also saw the Coloseum, but no gladiators, although lots of guys dress up as Romjan soldiers, and want to have their picture taken with you. Cheesy. Very.

Ciao!

Driving Excitement in Porto, and Other Tales

Portuguese people are the nicest people in the world. We have had some wonderful conversations with people who come up to us on the street, and start talking to us, telling us where to go and what to see, and telling us how much they appreciate that we are in Portugal. Understand, of course, that we're decked out in cameras and travel guides, and heavily armed with maps. It's been a pleasant and wonderful surprise.

I say all that to preface what I'm about to say - these same people will get on your tail and drive right up your keester if you are behind the wheel of an automobile. Yesterday, on our drive up from Óbidos, drivers would get 10 feet on my rear end, and ride me for miles, and I was traveling at 75 miles an hour, and they weren't. Portugal has several road systems, one that's akin to our Interstates, and another that's a major secondary road, then we're talking about paved but unmarked, and finally cow trails up a hillside. Portuguese drivers drive the same speed on all of the different roads. Honest.

Well, not quite. We stopped enroute yesterday at Conimbriga, which is an old Roman town and archaeological site. It's quite an extensive excavation, and we walked around the city, then visited the museum, and then had lunch. We were on some secondary roads getting to Conimbriga, and the going was very slow, but after getting on the Autoestrada, we sailed into Porto. BUT IT TOOK US ONE HOUR TO FIND OUR HOTEL AND ANOTHER HOUR TO PARK!!!! Porto has too many cars, and way too few parking places. Plus, the streets are about half the width of American streets and people are driving twice as fast on the main drags. Needless to say, I had no clue about where I was going, but all the drivers behind me knew EXACTLY where they were going. I got fingered and the evil eye. More than once.

Our hotel, aptly named Hotel Malaposta, is on Rua Côceicão, or something like that. It's a one block street in the Cedafeita neighborhood. The hotel is also European quaint, with a sheen of modernity and hipness, overlaid the ancient roots of Porto, if you get my drift. However, the shower works, and the beds are firm. I have no complaints, and the partyers on the same floor did not keep us awake last night.

Today, we took a walking tour of Porto, and had a great time. We walked through the Ribeira neighborhood, which borders the Douro River. We are about a kilometer from where our tourbook has its walk begin. It said the walk would take approximately three hours. For the record, we easily completed it in eight hours. But in those eight hours, we walked through three churches, took pictures of the fabulous tiles in the railway stations, had a port wine tasting at the Wine Institute, and saw the birthplace of Henry the Navigator. We also walked along the Douro, and walked across one of the river bridges.

People were so kind. One woman was driving her car, beckoned us over and gave us directions. Then she parked her car, came looking for us, and gave us a detailed overview of what to see in the neighborhood. I can't imagine that happening in Washington, DC. The church of the Franciscan order is a must see. It's a truly over-the-top example of Baroque/Rococo decoration, and incredibly beautiful. Although after about a hundred sad virgins and bleeding Jesuses, it's a little depressing. Saint Sebastian is depicted everywhere. For some reason, he's a favorite saint, and he's always just about as badly mangled as Jesus. Those arrows of outrageous fortune, indeed!

At the Customs House, which is Henry the Navigator's birthplace, one of the docents took us aside, and we must have talked with him for at least a half hour. He told us about the discovery of a Roman house under the Custom House, and also about the archive that is now housed there. We talked, too, about the different perspectives that Americans and Europeans have about history. It was a very interesting conversation.

We walked along the river promenade, crossed the bridge, then came back for some ice cream, which is great for promenading. On our walk back (UPHILL) through the neighborhoods, we stopped by a pasteleria for some sweets and some coffee. Then back to our hotel, and I'm writing you all about it.

Love, Grace and JB

More of the Same?

We're back at the hotel after a very long day. I should be upstairs studying Portuguese, but I also want to let you guys know what's going on. Class has been very intense. Ron, I don't think you'd like Portuguese food. It features a lot of meat, and not very many vegetables. Ditto for Lyn. The word for "steak" is bife, so you can have something called bife da vaca, which looks a lot like beef of cow, but really means beefsteak. That was what I learned today. Actually, we had a couple of hundred words poured into our heads in the last couple of days. It's relentless, and more nervewracking than learning the first level of Challenge square dancing in a weekend. Both our brains will need a rest by the end of the week.

A large tour group of French tourists are in the hotel with us. There's a lot of bon soiring going on. I told Grace that she had to dress better than she would while traveling in the United States, and generally, the people on the street are dressed quite well, but these French tourists, well, I guess you reach a certain age, and you just don't care what the American tourists think.... They are a very friendly lot, and wish us well on the elevator. I think Grace and I have an "A" branded on our foreheads, because people smile at us, and break into English. We've been trying what little Portuguese we know on people, and they respond with a smile. Not as many people know English, as say, in Madrid, but nobody gives any attitude - very friendly country.

After class this evening, we took the Metro (that's what Lisbon calls its subway) downtown to the Baixa district, than took an old time trolley car up the mountain in Alfama (the orginal old city) to the Castelo do S. Jorge. It is quite the castle, looking like something out of Prince Valiant. It has a lot of similarities to the construction of the Alcazar in Segovia. It is basically a fort within a fort with one set of battlements completely surround an inner set of battlements. It is a very large complex that has occupied the site since the 1100s. The site has been continously inhabited since at least 600 BC. We scrambled among the battlements and towers, and took a set of stairs down to what we thought would get us out of the castle, Well, it would have, except the last step would have been about 100 ft straight down, off the side of one of the castle towers. So we climbed a couple hundred steps back up to the top of the higher castle wall. Grace was a very good sport about it. We told two other couple heading down that it was a dead end - our mitzvah for the day.

We have several teachers each day in class. So far, we've had Ana, Manuel, Paulo, Andrea, and Susana. Paulo is the best English speaker. Manuel is the cutest. Ana is the most intense. Andrea is incredibly helpful when it comes to directions, etc. and Susana is Portugal's most enthusiastic tour guide. We had a lot of fun with her telling us everything from what palaces to visit, to how to order a pastry in Belem. There is nothing in her country about which she does not have a most enthusiastic opinion. All of the instructors have been very patient with us, but relentless, too. They really want us to do well. It's been a learning experience!

Grace and I send our love to all of you. She's upstairs studying like mad. You'd be proud of you Mom/sister/daughter/grandma. We'll see you all in a bit.

Grace and John

St. Theresa, We Love You!

Today was Grace and John's Most Excellent Adventure to Avila and Segovia. (Go Google them!) We got up early this morning so that we could be ready for the bus that would pick us up at 8:15 at the hotel. It arrived shortly after 8:30 (amidst a lot of nervous tourists). We were transported a mile or so to a tour center on Gran Via. We clambered aboard a different coach, and by 9:15 were weaving through the streets of a Madrid Saturday morning.

We had a nice tour guide. She wore her clothes a little too tight, which would have been alluring ten years ago, but the shine has faded. Okay, I'll stop with the snarky comments. She wore a bright pink shawl (and carried a designer handbag) and was quite dramatic in her historical/religious/patriotic pronouncements - which is everything a tour guide should be. You knew it was important when she sat down her handbag to speak.

On the road, we climbed the mountains northwest of Madrid, and hit the road to Avila. As you come into the city, you see a spectacular walled city on the hill. The city is completely walled, and is the finest example in Spain. Most cities with walls have knocked most of them down, because they are an impediment to development, but Avila has preserved its walled old city, and it is everything a walled city in a fairy tale or a romance novel about knights, kings, and princesses should be.

Immediately outside the St. Vincent gate, the largest gate in the wall, is St. Vincent's Basilica. The church contains the remains of St. Vincent and two other saints martyred with him. He and the others were children when they were martyred, and the tale is probably worth a Google search, which I highly commend to your spiritual development. The sarcophagus containing the remains of the saints is a brightly painted coffin that's been around for about 750 years. Where they kept the saints' bones before then, I don't know.

We walked completely through the old city, ending up at St. Theresa's church. St. Theresa is very popular in these parts, and is somewhat of a cottage industry. The church is built over the home in which St. Theresa was born, and a chapel in the church was built EXACTLY ON THE SPOT WHERE ST: THERESA'S MOTHER GAVE BIRTH. The chapel is a monument to reverential excess, more gold and gold leaf than you can shake a stick at, but nevertheless, a remarkable homage to what must have been a remarkable life of a devout woman. She was not martyred and lived to ripe old age. Next to the church is a little museum of St. Theresa and a gift shop. The museum contains some of St. Theresa's manuscripts, her walking stick, her whip (or "discipline"), a sole of one of her sandals, but most intriguing, her very bony ring finger with the ring intact, presumably not removed until after her death.

From Avila, we headed for Segovia. The first view of Segovia is of its Cathedral, and it is a giddy display of stone in the Rennaisance style. We're talking about lots of towers and spires. It's very dramatic. We hopped off the bus and headed into the old town to see the aqueduct. It is quite a piece of architecture that is higher than the buildings in the old city, very dramatic skyline. Near the aqueduct were some re-enactors dressed in Roman and Barbarian garb. It looked the like the Barbarians, or Visigoths, were having more fun. I'm not sure about the realism, because one could draw the conclusion that Barbarians wore t-shirts. Cool Halloween outfits.

After viewing the aqueduct, we headed off to lunch at a cafe in the old town. We had a bean soup, a beef stew, some vegies, and ice cream. The soup and stew were really wonderful home-cooked fare. Hearty for all the walking we were doing. From the restaurant, we made our way to the Cathedral. The church is really more dramatic on the outside than on the inside. The inside is decorated in the Spanish Baroque style. The two organs in the choir loft are pump organs and date from the late 1600s. The cathedral was build between 1525 and 1768. Its predecessor was destroyed in a war in 1520. The outside architecture is spectacular, and worth a visit.

From the Cathedral, we continued through the old town to the Alcazar. The alcazar is a combination fort and palace. The old city is built on a mountain top that falls dramatically into the valley below, add to that a tall wall and a couple of towers, and you have a scene from Prince Valiant. The moat around the tower is now drained, but when full must have been 75 feet deep or so, and it is at least that far below the entrance into the alcazar, underneath a truly intimidating tower.

The alcazar is still in use today, in addition to being a tourist site. The Spanish military archives are stored here, and the alcazar is a museum for the Spanish artillery. The public rooms of the building house an artillery exhibit (we're talking 14th century armor), and the royal rooms of the Kingdom of Castile(?), including Queen Isabella's bed and bedroom, reception areas, and the king's room. The building is being restored, including the ceilings. Much of the furnishings were destroyed in fire in 1862, and the ceilings were all wood, and were lost. The restoration continues, and the ceilings are done in a Spanish-Moorish style that is geometric, and features a lot of gold leaf. We ended the alcazar tour in the royal family's chapel. The reredos behind the altar features scenes from the life of Christ that is painted on wood. It's very beautiful work. Of course, I found a painting of St. Sebastian. He's still having a bad day at the office.

We walked about a mile back to the bus, climbed aboard and headed back to Madrid. We got here about an hour and half ago. I thought you'd all want to know. I hope this note finds you well.

Love, Grace and John

If This Is Thursday, This Must Be Madrid

We are in Madrid, and I am typing on a Spanish language keyboard. It is killing me! I met Grace at Passport Control early this morning, and the rest of the day has been a blur. We took a taxi to the hotel because we had missed our driver (it took too long for us to get through baggage claim because the flight Grace was on was about a half hour late).

After checking in, we took a walk up to Plaza Mayor, then on to the Royal Palace and the Cathedral. I find I am not taking a lot of pictures that I took two years ago. You can either be happy or sad about that :-) We ended back at the Plaza Mayor for lunch, and had a large tomato olive salad and a Spanish pizza with lots of ham. I still intend to make it to the Ham Museum. We walked right past it.

We came back to the hotel to recharge a bit, then headed off for a two and a half hour walk through of the Prado Art Museum. I have never seen so many crucifixion scenes in one place. We are talking about hundreds. Lots of little angels too, and one particularly baffling picture where a baby is dancing on about eight other baby heads. Reminds me of Galaxy Quest.

By this time it occurred to both of us that we smelled bad, and we were like the walking dead. We could hardly drag ourselves anywhere. We crawled back to the hotel, then took showers, and decided to go for an early evening walk. I headed straight for Starbucks, and we had some great ice drinks, and a wonderful conversation with an exchange student from Tennessee. We then walked up into the Chueca neighborhood where Ron, Brian, and I stayed two years ago. I really am suffering from recovered memories as we walk the streets of Madrid.

Stay tuned. We are planning on more great adventures, maybe an out of town experience.

The Cinema Effect Part II: Realisms

Okay, I'm over my head here. Ron and I went to see this exhibit at the Hirshhorn. The exhibit ends Sunday, September 7. The show consists of seventeen installations and two films. Many of the installations are thought-provoking, a few are just weird.

Film has a peculiar power to seduce us. If we recognize a celluloid image, it is real. If we recognize a type in a film, we make an analogy to what we know, and again, the image is real. Several of the artists touch on this theme about how realism affects our perception of the film, but film creates a realism that shapes our reality, too.

Some of the standout installations are Lonely Planet, Marlene Redux: A True Hollywood Story!, and The Simpson Verdict. A couple of other installations that I did not have an opportunity to watch completely, but looked interesting were John and The Third Memory.

The Hirshhorn takes on challenging exhibitions. Because it is a museum of modern art, the exhibitions demand the attention and concentration of the viewer. (I was exhausted when I left the exhibit.) I'm not particularly a culture guy or an art aficionado. I also suffer from a certain mental laziness (which my readers already know about). So I found this exhibit often inaccessible. I wanted to connect with the works that I saw, but many of them had me feeling like Homer Simpson. And maybe it would have helped had I drank a couple of beers before going.

I know I won't get back to this exhibit before it closes on Sunday, and I'm sorry for that, because it had a few precious connections between me and some patterns of light playing on a screen that I'd like to explore. The Simpson Verdict is an arresting animation of the courtroom announcement of the Simpson murder trial verdict, using the actual courtroom dialogue.

Marlene Redux: A True Hollywood Story! is a must see for anyone who watches E! or reads true life mags about the stars. The work has a compelling movieland realism complete with ick, sex (straight and gay), bad language, aging divas, and movie critics. Incidentally Marlene and The Third Memory also have gay themes that not so subtlety inform their realism.

I came away from the exhibition feeling disappointed, and wondering what did I see? But on reflection saw more than I thought, and am wistful about what I missed.

Portugal Looms

I visited my travel agent yesterday. The vacation across the Big Pond is taking over my head. I'm twenty days from departure. I've been a little more focused on the trip this week. I tend to get overwhelmed, thinking about the details. So I've been concentrating on actually doing things that will get me to and from Portugal.

After seeing Ms. Travel, I went to Barnes and Noble and purchased a couple of maps of Portugal. Between them and the Lonely Planet tour book, I'm going to start laying out a more definite itinerary for me and my sister.

We fly into Madrid and spend three days there. There were lots of things I didn't get to see the first time, so I'm looking forward to seeing the city again, and doing some more exploring. I especially want to go back to the Prado and spend several hours there. I need to dust off my Madrid tour book and my Spanish phrase book. Homework!

I've also ordered some travel clothes and a new backpack, and I need to get a European adapter for my computer and battery charger. I haven't decided completely whether to take my computer, but it would be nice to have it with me on the road. I also need a security wallet and a secure strap for my camera.

I've started a Portugal folder to put all my travel papers, passport, tickets, and reservations. My theory is that if I act like I know what I'm doing, I might actually know what I'm doing. My sister and I are excited and are getting ready to roll.

Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh My!

Welcome to the Zoo

I was talking with Tim yesterday morning, and we decided to spend the day at the zoo. A walk in the National Zoo on a pleasant summer day makes for a delightful spontaneous adventure.

I smeared on the sunscreen, grabbed my camera and my Economists, and quickly headed out the door to the Metro. I looked like such a tourist - almost as much as Tim! The trip downtown was uneventful, the train full of other tourists like me.

Guardian Lion

Upon coming out of the station, I called Tim on my cellphone. For some reason, we weren't connecting, so I left him a curious message, and he left one for me. We eventually established voice communication and met just inside the zoo entrance on Connecticut Ave.

Okay, I don't know the names of most of these animals, but they are really fascinating. It's like something from Star Wars, only it's free, and it's real. Notice that many of these dudes just point their butts in my direction and dare me to take their picture. Kinda like my boyfriends.

Nice Rack

Look at the horns on this guy! I wish I were that horny. Most of the time, this creature was behind pile of branches, but here he is looking like a goat with an attitude. He (or she?) looks like he's been tagged in his ears, too. Still, a nice headpiece.

This is why I like the zoo. I'd only see this in a book and imagine this, but I'm looking at this animal, and marveling at how different it is from what I'm used to. This experience moves me out of my own life into something else. (I know this is very un-PETAlike.)

How would you like this in your bathtub?

This pygmy hippopotamus is cute! And this is only the pygmy size! We saw the full grown adult size around the corner in the swimming pool. I notice that all of these animals have some coping strategies for ignoring people like me. They turn their butts to us, they engage in various kinds of neurotic behavior (much like I did in my cubicle when I was working), and they lay on the bottom of a swimming pool for seven minutes, then come up for seven seconds for a breath of air.

Wassup?

Tree Shrew

Visit those small mammals! Most of them are either monkeys or rodents of some sort. They are (for the most part) furry and cute. These are the kinds of animals that every nine-year old dreams about. Of course, the nice thing about the zoo, is that the zookeepers get to handle all the poop. This is a bonus for nine-year olds and their parents.

Now, Where's the Ketchup?

Speaking of pets, this is Perry's new house cat, Charlie. Just kidding. Now that's a cat! This tiger came out and put on about a 5-minute show for Tim and I. Admittedly, we had a wide moat between us and kitty, but this scene really evokes a kind of awe. This is a magnificent beast, and I didn't have to go to India to see it.

Mongolian Horses

Horses anyone? These guys are extinct in the wild, but the zoo is engaged in a breeding program, and they are slowly being reintroduced into Mongolia and China, where they originated. Sturdy, well-insulated, these guys are ready for those Mongolian steppes and the blowing snow.

Well, we saw more. We walked and walked. We saw tourists, babies, teens, and very friendly zoo employees. This place is a very happy place, indeed, just the right place for a summer's jaunt.

Check out this Drag Queen!

White Stork

Black Cormorant

One of the last exhibits we visited was Bird Land. I love the lady in blue! In a couple of parts of the exhibit, you can walk right into an enclosure full of birds. At first, everything looks green and leafy, and then you realize that the birds are everywhere, all around you. Tippy Hedren aside, it was the very best Hitchcock moment without the drama. Look at the blue eyes on the cormorant.

And yes, we finally saw the sloth bear. This is my favorite guy in the whole zoo. Who wouldn't love him? The zoo has recently (well within the last couple of years) redone the sloth bear enclosure. It isn't nearly as open as it used to be, and the view isn't as good. But the bears are there, and I love them!

Mr. Sloth Bear

Here's a slide show of our zoo visit.

Revealing Photos of a Wild Square Dance Weekend

No, you won't see any square dance photos here. That would be too twisted. I can't reveal any of the weird and secret rituals that go on at a gay square dance weekend....

However, I do have some photos of a wonderful Sunday on the way home from Rehoboth Beach, including a visit to the Adkins Arboretum.

Boardwalk Plaza Hotel

We had a fagulous hotel room at the Boardwalk Plaza. I'm sure our room was decorated by a Victorian gay interior decorator (duh!). Over the top and just right for a gay weekend in a former Methodist camp meeting town. Next time you are in Rehoboth, check out this wonderful pile of bricks. The place is sooo gay, complete with a 24/7 hot tub on the roof, and the staff is gracious and helpful. There are also two security cameras near the hot tub, so keep you clothes on. Tim and I spent a couple of relaxing hours in the hot tub reviewing Basic Challenge square dance calls while watching the fog roll in. Be sure to bring your swim suit for this warm and embracing experience.

Sunrise over Rehoboth Beach

Tim before coffee

The Sunday morning started very early for Tim. He was missing sunrise on the beach. With my tender pleading, I got him to the dance hall, and we proceeded to dance a couple of hours before heading back to the hotel to check out and get out on the beach.

Tim dancing on the beach

The fly-in was a total success. My Challenge buddies, Mein and Michael danced Challenge on Friday evening, then Michael had a back problem that persisted through Sunday - a real bummer. This is the first time that I was dancing full-level Challenge 1, and it caused my head to explode several times. Mein, on the other hand, looked calm and collected through the whole weekend.

Okay, so after dancing, Tim and I got out on the beach for a nice long walk up and down the beach, then down the boardwalk. Here Tim is performing a jig. That's what square dancing will do for you - rejuvenate you and get you to small beach towns in less-settled parts of the North American continent. Woo-hoo!

Happy's in Georgetown...

We blew Dodge shortly after 1 p.m. and happened into Georgetown a mere 45 minutes or so later. Here's Marilyn having a photo op in the town square. My butt got wet because the sprinkler had just turned off. A wet butt is a small price to pay for a glamour shot. Tim took this with his iPhone, and what a beautiful picture it turned out to be! I really feel sexy and hot.

I like these trips with Tim. We talk about all sorts of things. Foremost the conversation is about square dancing, which, since it is theological, has theoretically an infinite (blessed be) number of topics about which to talk. For instance, I was wondering out loud how far out to sea I could see from our balcony at the hotel. Tim, ever the applied mathematician, recited the Pythagorean theorem and plugged in Pi and a couple of square roots to come up with some answer that probably puzzled the room maid. I wrote it all down on a scrap of paper, but I've misplaced it. I'll leave the proof to the reader. Good stuff. It's minds like this that change the way America thinks. I love this kind of exploratory banter.

Adkins Arboretum

So we finally crossed Delaware and headed into verdant Maryland, my Maryland (our state song - and Maryland never even seceded the Union). If you ever get a chance, get off of Route 50 and drive a couple of miles to the Adkins Aroboretum. It's a real treat, and it's beautiful at this time of year. See it going to the beach or coming from the beach, but stop and take it in.

North American Bullfrog

This place is good for an hour or good for a day. You take your pick! Here's my favorite bullfrog. We could really hear them. While on a little foot bridge crossing a marshy creek, I saw several of them. You can't eat them, though! Just beyond the foot bridge is the visitor's center. It's chock full of brochures, maps, (and restrooms) - it costs $3, a bargain for an adventure.

Part of a paw-paw patch

This is a paw paw blossom. These fruit trees are native to Maryland, but you don't see many of them. The arboretum is a showcase of native species (including lots of poison ivy - the ivy is such a beautiful plant, but behaves like a bad date from hell; beware). Along the path, some pieces of artwork had been installed. The art blends in with the environment in an natural way. In the not too distant future, it won't be art; it will be part of the forest detritus. I like this kind of naturalistic expression. Our walk was very pleasant, and we did not run into many people at all. Just a short distance from the beach traffic is this little sylvan paradise, waiting to be discovered and enjoyed.

Art in the woods

We stayed at the arboretum for an hour or so. I hadn't seen a lady slipper for over forty years, and right along the path, one beckoned me to take its picture. Not to be outdone, a mourning cloak butterfly insisted that I capture is full dignity in a sunlit moment. This little gift from the State of Maryland is precious for all of us who pass by here.

Lady Slipper orchid

Mourning Cloak Butterfly

This is Ron eating breakfast...

Ron, eating a better breakfast

Tim, I'm blaming you. You wanted more pictures in my blog, and here one is! This is part of our domestic routine. I get up about two hours before Ron, get my reading done, then I fritter away the rest of my day. Ron saunters in a while later, after all, he is retired, and has a very healthy bowlful of Kashi™ Good Friends® and Post Shredded Wheat (Wheat 'n Bran Spoon Size) plus a soupçon of General Mills Whole Grain (yeah, right!) Reese's® (Peanut Butter) Puffs® (made from Hershey's cocoa) on top, all swimming in a sea of skim milk. Now that's a superhero's breakfast! As an added bonus, on some mornings he works on Sudoku during breakfast, sharpening his mind while eating good, or is he????

This morning, I went snuffeling through the cereal shelf in the kitchen, just to see how "healthy" this breakfast is, not only for Ron, but for our society at large. Here's the results of my investigation.

Kashi™ Good Friends® - Kashi bills itself as "The Seven Grain Company." Looking on the ingredient list, I see wheat, oats, rice, corn, rye, triticale, buckwheat, and barley (eight grain, maybe?). Many of those grains, however, occur a long ways down the ingredient list. The list is a little daunting, but looks healthy. A serving contains two grams of fat, no trans or saturated fat, and an astounding twelve grams of dietary fiber, 47% of the daily recommended amount. This may explain some of the sounds and fragrances in our home. An added bonus to this cereal is the Kashi™ Friendly Fiber Muffins recipe on the back of the cereal box. It looks pretty healthy, too, although I'm betting you can use them as hockey pucks.

Check out the Kashi web site. It has lots of good, accessible information that will help you live healthier, if a little airier.

Post Shredded Wheat, Wheat 'n Bran - Post has been on the food scene for a long time. Perhaps the Post's family's most sincere contribution to American culture and values is the Hillwood Estate, Museum, and Gardens in Washington, DC. Thank you Marjorie. The company (which started out as a health food outfit!) is currently a division of Kraft Foods.

I like the ingredients list on the cereal box: "Whole grain wheat and wheat bran. To preserve the natural wheat flavor, BHT is added to the packaging material. Contains: Wheat. What a relief! Each serving contains eight grams of fiber, not quite the colon-blowing experience of Kashi™ Good Friends®, but still a movement-inducing breakfast phenomenon.

Reese's® Puffs® - Reese's® Puff® is a General Mills product. The corporation's "Corporate Social Responsibility Report" is online. Maybe you should read that report before looking at the Reese's® Puffs® cereal box. Okay, I 'fess up, I eat Reese's® Puffs® all the time, because it's a fun, chocolate flavored confection. This is a fortified cereal, but sugar is the second ingredient on the ingredients list. Per serving, the cereal contains three grams of fat, and 12 grams of sugars, and only one gram of colon blow fiber. This cereal is basically a condiment.

The back of this box contains a list of "18 Things To Do Before You're 18." Parents might want to read this list first. I'm not sure I'd want my kids to be so accomplished. And is item 13 referring to gang activity: "Make it part of your crew's lingo?" Okay, I'm being hysterical here, but the tenor of this cereal box is a kid-centered world that teaches some damaging kid-centered values. Scary cereal box. Check out its kid-centered web site and cringe.

My verdict on Ron's breakfast: good to eat, healthy on the colon. I can overlook the Reese's® Puffs® because Ron is so sweet to begin with, and he only uses them for an accent of flavor (I, on the other hand, smear them all over my body, roll in them, and inhale deeply while licking myself and moaning loudly). And that's a peak at breakfast!

The Cereal Shelf

Hopper and Turner

They aren't a rock band or a law firm. Instead they are two exhibitions at the National Gallery of Art (Hopper is in the East Wing) that Tim and I went to see on Monday. The Hopper show made me realize he's my favorite artist that I never knew was my favorite artist. His art is American Iconic, and permeates our larger culture sense. The exhibit was eye popping and engaging. Loneliness, alienation, beauty, light, shadow is all on display.

The Turner exhibit is overwhelming, and it's overwhelming with color and light. Maybe overdone. After seeing it, I know where some of the pictures in my head are rooted. He painted and possibly originated some seascape archetypes (which Hopper reimagined - a very interesting juxtaposition). In the end, I felt a little disappointed by the many classic allusions of Turner's work. I guess I'm a Philistine. On the other hand, if you're Irish, you'll love his paintings of the burning of the British Parliament in 1834.