The trip(s) not taken . . .

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

I had a calendar alert on my phone yesterday. It reminded me of a flight: 3.35 p.m. “tomorrow” to Toronto. I had crossed out the note on my desk calendar, but neglected to update my electronic devices. Seeing the reminder brought a tinge of regret.

The flight to Toronto this afternoon would have been the first leg of a journey that I had booked as an anniversary present to my husband. This end-of-April jaunt was to take us on to London, and then to Athens where we planned to spend a few days before embarking on a seven-day cruise to ports in Greece and nearby islands.

We were to board Majestic Princess April 30, during the maiden season of this new “royal class” vessel built especially for the China market. The ship is distinctive, bearing the stunning new blue and white Princess “Seawitch” logo on her bow, as well as her name in both English and Chinese. The Chinese name translates to “Grand Spirit.”

After a month or so in the Mediterranean, she will head to her permanent new home port of Shanghai, following a route that will take passengers through the Suez Canal, then on to exotic ports throughout the Middle East, India, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Taipei, Japan and Korea.

Because she carries more than 3,500 passengers, several thousand guests will get a sample of her spirit and a taste of her distinctive food offerings while she is still in the Med. The maiden season is a way to “test the waters,” so to speak, to assure that ship and crew work in harmony and that all systems operate the way they are meant to function.

Not just another big ship

At almost 1,100 feet long and 224 feet in height, there is no doubt that Majestic Princess is a floating city. But scattered throughout the 19 decks, in addition to formal dining rooms, casino, pools, bars and performance stages, sports courts and promenade decks, there are numerous dining spots with palate-pleasing options.

This ship introduces Harmony, a specialty Cantonese restaurant, as well as La Mer, a French bistro, and international food stations that promise flavors from around the globe. A central buffet, according to the description, is designed to offer something for everyone with an “East meets West” assortment of “comfort food” from varied cultures. We were eager to fill our plates with Japanese satay and Asian noodles, and then move on to treats like Chinese buns, French crepes, and Italian gelato.

In addition, this new ship has interior signage in both English and Chinese, boasts a noodle and soup station as well as a dim sum and lobster bar. There’s a 24-hour International Cafe for quick bites or sweet treats, and a comfortable pizza cafe that serves made-to-order individual pies along with beer and wine by the glass.

We looked forward to sampling the food; and we were eager to be at sea amidst the clear waters and the natural beauty of the Greek islands. We were excited by the prospect of being aboard during the ship’s inaugural season. The anticipation brought back memories of our own cruising days, the combined anxiety and thrill of untying the lines for the first time. First days on any vessel are memorable.

We also had booked a cooking class in Athens, a short sail around Rhodes, and tours of local farms and wineries on other islands. A month ago we were counting the days. Where better to go for a short cruise than Greek Islands in the spring? New experiences in an ancient land — it seemed perfect.

The Best Laid Plans

In a previous post I wrote about a planned long weekend in Paris — the Paris in North Texas, not the one in France. We had a wonderful time there, but this cruise was to be the real anniversary gift that we had given ourselves.

Alas, four weeks ago tomorrow, my husband fractured a major bone in his foot and found himself immobilized in a full boot cast. He is still under doctor’s orders not to put any weight on that foot. Even though he is able to get around via crutches and scooter, the doctor nixed any thought of a long flight. Indeed, being aboard the mega ship would have been difficult, even with the availability of a wheelchair; it would have been impossible to walk up to the Acropolis, to board a tender, or to navigate Greek island cobblestones and inclines.

I had a fleeting urge to find another traveling companion, but we canceled the trip.

What Comes Next?

Majestic Princess was delivered to the cruise line during a ceremony at Fincantieri Shipyard in Montefalcone, Italy on March 30. She embarked on a quick maiden voyage to Rome with a group of invited guests the next day. Subsequent itineraries allowed her to show herself in most of the major ports in the Med. I have been keeping track of her whereabouts!

She has been to Barcelona and Gibraltar, to Toulon and Naples, and to Messina, Sicily and Kotor, Montenegro. She is about to complete an itinerary that takes her from Barcelona through Rome and on to Athens. 2017-04-26This morning she was at sea, bound for Corfu.

She will be ready to greet new passengers beginning about midday April 30, and is set to embark at 7 p.m. My husband and I will not be there, but you can bet that I will cruise along, if only in spirit, to all the ports she will visit. Due to modern technology, I can actually view her progress via 24-hour bridge-cam.

Even though we’re sitting out this sailing, I have no intention of staying home for long! But, trips in the near future will most likely be closer to home.

I’ve been thinking about Athens. There is one, you know, in North Texas! And it’s less than a two-hour drive away.

Planning the perfect vacation . . .

~ adriennecohen221 ~ 1 Comment

I don’t think it used to be difficult to plan a vacation. There was once a time when it wasn’t even about the destination — we just picked a place and figured out how to get there. We often didn’t even think about being there, or what would be involved in finding lodgings and food. Getting away was the focus.

Lately, however, no matter how much I would love to be my former spontaneous self, I find that planning is necessary. And therein lies the problem, as they say. Planning ahead (the old visual joke comes to mind) has never been my strong suit.

The dilemma — and a solution

As always, there is much too much world and far too little time. Comfort rules today. Long flights are no-no’s. Even long, leisurely road trips are less appealing than they once were. Packing and unpacking was always a pain, but now it’s a great turnoff!

Schedules, for the most part, are just not happening. Quick weekend trips are perfect, sans crowds and traffic. That all adds up to some serious travel limitations.

So, in considering where to celebrate an upcoming anniversary, my spouse and I started planning early. Many possibilities came to mind.

Cruises — of course! An island — conducive to relaxing days of little more than beach-sitting and book-reading — always a good choice. A long weekend in New Orleans — tempting because it’s been too long since we were there, but again — the drive!

What then; and where?

Paris!

We laughed. Then we laughed harder. And it was settled.

You see, we were married in Paris! Yes, that Paris!

But that Paris is not where we’ll be headed the end of this month. A trip to that Paris will require considerably more advance planning. It will have to wait.4289545362_a3906198e6_o

Instead, we’ll be spending this anniversary in Paris, Texas, only about two hours from our home, reasonable enough for a quick getaway.

We settled on Paris, Texas, with some giggles and guffaws. There is not a single scene of the town in the movie that bears its name; there is, however, a “quaint downtown square” with a pint-size replica Eiffel Tower. It’s notable because of the red cowboy hat perched at its peak, even though it’s only about 70 feet high.

We have always enjoyed small Texas towns — our favorites have quirky personalities that fit well into our idea of fun. This Paris fits the bill nicely.

So, we’ve booked a stay at a local B&B and run an online search of eateries and attractions, in addition to the Eiffel Tower. It all sounds promising!

As for eats, we expect Paris is much like other small Texas towns. We’re sure we’ll find the local coffee shop and favorite burger joint. There’s also a catfish cafe, a Japanese/sushi spot and a traditional steak house. We’ll be looking for others.

For this weekend, at least, we won’t have to brush up on our French or pack any “goin’ out on the town” clothes. And that’s just the way we like it!

Photos by Joseph Novak/Flickr

Where to go; when to stay home

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

Somehow, I am out of words.

Projects call for completion; I have holiday plans to make and work to do, but I am stuck in the doldrums. The year is inching toward its close and the new one seems filled with promise. But little is happening in my world, or in my mind, right now.

I am stuck. It’s cold. Right now, a cozy fire, a good book and a hot cup of tea are the delights I savor, along with an occasional old movie on television. Just as sailors of old awaited fresh sea breezes to clear away the calm, I look forward to bursts of new energy.

There was a December trip planned — a 30-day excursion around the tip of South America. The journey would have taken us, perhaps not coincidentally, through the doldrums. Alas, the time away seemed too long, the distance too far. Home won out.

So here I am, wanting to write about good food and faraway places, but searching for a biscochito recipe instead!

A quick Thanksgiving road trip to visit family in Santa Fe was an unexpected pleasure, and it left a lingering desire for those spicy, anise-flavored, miniature treats that are holiday staples in the Land of Enchantment.

p2070090-2-516x360Even though Santa Fe is no longer home, there are elements of life there that are hard to leave behind. Biscochitos,  a dusting of snow on pinon trees and adobe walls, green chili stew, bright sunlight glistening off snow-covered mountain peaks, antelope cavorting on the eastern plains, lone coyotes standing watch in unexpected places, and the wonder of lighted trees aglow on Santa Fe’s plaza.

Pictures tell the story, even though the words won’t come.

There are more trips waiting in the wings, but right now home beckons. As does the kitchen. And that’s not a bad way to spend the rest of December.

Portovenere: Poetry in any language

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

My husband and I hadn’t really intended to be in Portovenere. We were driving through Italy with no particular destination in mind. At a small gas station in the port of Genoa, we stopped to ask general directions to the waterfront, with every intention of finding a charming out-of-the way inn along the way, perhaps one with a view of the harbor and a trattoria within walking distance.

We had no timetable. It was chilly. It was the end of January, not the height of tourist season along the Mediterranean coast. The prospect of a good glass of red wine, a simple pasta and a comfortable bed beckoned. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

The station attendant pointed — Portovenere, he repeated — along with a rapid stream of Italian, most of which was lost on us. “Portovenere, Portovenere, Portovenere. . . ,” accompanied by hand waving, curliques in the air, motor sounds, big smiles and, once again the repeated word: “Portovenere!”

It was decided. We pulled out the map, pinpointed the location and the route, smiled at our benefactor and trip planner, and were off to Portovenere.

What a Delight!

The little city is nestled into the craggy cliffs that line the sea; it has all the charm and colorful beauty of better-known Cinque Terre villages. Along with them, Portovenere is on UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites. They are all magnificent. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Portovenere is ancient, and it retains the homey aura of a small fishing village, with terraced hillsides above.

Perhaps it was just because we arrived at dusk during a very slow season, but everyone we met, from the hotel desk clerk to local workers on their way to the trattoria, greeted us cordially and made us feel like long-lost friends.

The feeling was not diminished the next day, nor the next. We stayed on, enchanted by everyday life in this beautiful village. We walked the streets, sauntered along the docks, ventured up the steep, hillside cliffs when we felt like it. We breathed deeply of the fresh seaside air, and looked out on the waters of the Med, but felt no need to take the sightseeing boat to the nearby trio of islands that are major tourist destinations.

Familiar Comforts

The truth is that Portovenere wrapped us in the comfort of normal lifestyle, at a point in our three-week trip when we had tired of tourism. In some ways, it felt like going home. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

We sipped aperitivos at the local bar, and watched local television with residents relaxing after work, and then we ambled down the street to enjoy fresh seafood, good wine and spirited, if awkward conversation with other diners in the sparsely-occupied room. I’ve forgotten the dishes and the details, but the warmth of the experience, and the certainty that it was a good one, remain. I don’t know the name of the restaurant, but I like to think it is still there, awaiting my return.

It’s a fanciful thought, I know, appropriate in some odd way for this Thanksgiving week. Going home for Thanksgiving is deeply ingrained in our consciousness, whether that trip is to Grandma’s house or simply a gathering that brings family and friends together for shared experience, wherever it may be.

Special Places and Times

That first and only visit to Portovenere was more than a decade ago and it still stands out in my memory as one of those places I would return to on short notice! That’s what I have been thinking about this week — the prospect of revisiting favorite spots across the globe, an irresistible urge to experience old delights once again. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Pisa is on the list, and Assisi, along with Carrara, where Michelangelo found his stone. The tops of the mountains shine white in the distance, chipped away over the centuries to expose the shining white cores. Counter tops are still quarried here, some of them by old methods. It’s quite an experience to drive to the summit of a marble mountain!

There are other places, too, to revisit, most of them not the subject of travel guides and magazine articles. But that’s what makes travel special, isn’t it? Finding those places that speak to the soul is not something a traveler plans.

If it happens, it’s hard to deny. Portovenere is like that.

Savor the Good Times

In my mind, I can picture my return, just as I picture returning to my former home city of Santa Fe this year for a large family Thanksgiving.

May all of you find a special place in the heart this Thanksgiving. Maybe we can all search out those delightful spaces and places at other times of year as well.

If it’s impossible to return home in a physical sense, however, at least make a point to revisit those special places periodically in spirit. Savor those experiences.

9-11-2001: Years removed in time, but etched indelibly into our psyche . . .

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

Fifteen years: It’s the span from birth to teenager; young adult to middle age; active working adult to “old.”

It’s difficult to look 15 years into the future with any degree of accuracy, but looking back takes little effort. And, in some cases, 15 years — or 50, or only two  — disappear in an instant and we, in our minds, are returned to a time so hard to comprehend, so impossible to understand, so devastatingly brutal in memory that it brings us up short. The best we can do is retreat into our own silence, finding what solace exists with the passage of time.

Today is one of those days.

Fifteen years ago on a clear morning full of promise, the world was forever changed. For those of us old enough at the time to be aware of what happened in our world, it is a moment, a day, an era still frozen in time. There are other such days for many of us; actually, there are too many of those moments for some of us.

On days like this one, at a specific hour, whether the flag is lowered to half staff or we observe a moment of silence, whether there is a public ceremony or not, we cannot help but take a deep breath, suffer feelings of deep regret, and remember. Sadly, the list of those remembrances grows longer.

It is said that adversity make us strong. I wonder.

It is said that we must learn from the past. I am not certain we ever do.

It is said that we must not allow such things to happen again. Is that possible?

9-11-2001

Fifteen years ago.

Yes. I remember.

But I also remember other things about that day.

I recall standing silently with a group of coworkers, tears streaming down our cheeks, eyes trained on the television. I remember the need to talk with distant family members, to hear the voices of loved ones even though there were no words to soften the blow of that day. I remember the anguished — and accented — question of a recent immigrant: “How could they do this to our country?”

I have to think that Americans were one on that day, united in shock, and determined to face an uncertain future together.

Today, 15 years later, that oneness is no longer evident.

I wonder why we as a people are always at our best in crisis?

Actually, maybe that is the hope we should cling to.

No matter what our differences, no matter how much we disagree on most days — in thought and action and the ongoing exercise of our freedoms — maybe we can once again stand together when the next crisis occurs.

Not that I look forward to that day.

Also read my thoughts about a chance encounter on 9-11-2014.

 

 

The dream dies hard, but the memories live on

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

It looms large on the horizon, the hulk of the S.S. United States, as she lies in port in Philadelphia. Her stacks rise above the neighboring dock buildings, and it’s possible to use them as landmarks rather than following GPS directions as you chart a course to see the once grand ship in her current forlorn and decrepit state.

This ship — and the search for a traditional Philly cheesesteak — took us to the city of brotherly love this summer.

We found our ship with ease, and we lingered there. Remembering our first encounter with this vessel, my husband and I didn’t speak. We just gazed through the chain links at this once gleaming passenger liner with a history that is irrevocably intertwined with ours.

We met the S.S. United States, and one another, on the same day in August 50 years ago at the port in Le Havre, France. The ship was just a teenager at the time. We were young as  well, and impressionable.

She was a looker, massive and shiny and silent, but aswarm with crew going about their duties. We were impressed by her presence and by her glamor; she took our breath away. We had some other experiences with her, but her days at sea came to an end barely three years later.

Our story continues.

This summer, as we mapped our road trip north, it became a priority for us to see the grand old ship. Philadelphia was miles out of the way, but we took the detour. Our hearts were in our throats as we first spied those distinctive smokestacks. We were buoyed by the hope that this old lady might actually sail the seas once again.

Unfortunately, early this month, we learned that the plan to refurbish her as a cruise ship is not feasible. The S.S. United States has been out of service for 47 years; she has languished at the dock in Philadelphia for more than 20 years now, longer than she sailed! And, though she is deemed still structurally sound, the dream that she might again carry passengers has died.

There is still some hope that the S.S. United States will be saved from the scrap heap and turned into a floating “history book.” She is, after all, an engineering marvel; this last American flagship set a world speed record on her maiden voyage. It has never been broken. Is it so hard to believe that others could be inspired by looking up at her towering stacks, standing at her railing, or exploring her labyrinthian interior? Not for us.

The experience certainly stayed with me and my husband throughout our years!

As we again gazed at her with awe, she sat behind locked gates, no longer shiny and glamorous, but impressive nonetheless!

We left the docks finally, and found a Philly cheesesteak at a tiny Tony Luke’s on Oregon Ave., almost in the shadow of Interstate 95 South. There were only seven or eight tables inside, but the line snaked through the building and extended into the parking lot beyond. It took some time to reach the order window, but not long at all for our traditional beef and melted cheese sandwiches to be ready. Miraculously, there were two seats at a table. The wait was worth it; Philadelphia’s signature food treat was the second delight of the day!

We had come to Philly for the memories. And we left well satisfied.

It was an epic road trip and coming home is hard . . .

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

I am home now — after nearly two months away and never a dull moment. The summer included a path through 22 states and two Canadian provinces, a total of 4,780 highway miles, and almost six weeks in the historic small town of Wiscasset, Maine.

While in Maine, we explored new territory, basked in the sun, breathed the salt air, ate seafood and fresh corn as much as possible, and enjoyed every minute of the time we spent there. It was with regret that we packed up the car when it came time to leave. But the road trip was adventure of a different kind!

Although I’ve been home now for two weeks, I find myself still smiling about the trip just completed and considering the ones yet to come. Several are currently in the planning stages of my mind, waiting to emerge as full-fledged itineraries with dates and reservations.

Is it good to be home? Yes, it’s good to be home. I think so. But, it’s good to be gone. If I stutter and stammer a bit when asked if I’m happy to be home, it’s because the fun of being “on the road,” seeing new sights, eating new foods and meeting new people never seems to grow old. Some would term that a personality disorder.

Coming home seems like an ending somehow; and I haven’t yet gotten used to endings. New beginnings: Yes, those are what I thrive on. Readjusting to the routine of normal life — that’s a chore! But then, I can’t seem to define normal.

While watching the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio, I find myself daydreaming about South America and fantasizing about what I hope will be an upcoming trip.

South America is on the horizon. But it will have to wait until after the Panama Canal, already scheduled for fall. And then, maybe,  a winter trip to Florida along with a jaunt to to Cuba? Or, as an alternate, perhaps a quick cruise along the Pacific Coast, or a few days in Cabo. Maybe the urge to travel is, after all, an obsession. It’s only a shame that I don’t have unlimited funds to fuel my desire to see the world.

Don’t be fooled into thinking that the world is shrinking. It is still as large as the mind can imagine. And so many destinations await.

So, my fascination with gauchos and Cape Horn, the southern fjords and Chilean wine (enjoyed at a Chilean vineyard, of course), the rainforest and the Amazon, the icebergs and the Andes, penguins and llamas — has only been heightened as I watch the world’s athletes compete in the games and celebrate their victories!

I guess I’ll have to get serious about getting back to work after the closing ceremony.

Note: Look for additional posts about this summer’s epic journey in coming weeks.

It’s not the Maine state food, but it should be!

~ adriennecohen221 ~ Leave a comment

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather!

I was certain that the state food of Maine had to be lobster, but I was wrong! According to all sources, it’s the blueberry, as in “wild blueberry,” which was officially designated the101_3377state fruit in 1991. It is also the “state dessert,” so proclaimed in 2011, more specifically “Blueberry pie made with wild Maine blueberries.”

So, where does that leave the lobster?

Well, as much as I like blueberries and wild blueberry pie, I believe I’d opt for lobster any day. There are many ways and many places to enjoy lobster in Maine, some of them renowned, some far off the beaten track — all of them good!WP_20160716_020

This summer, during a much anticipated, multi-week sojourn in this seacoast state, I did my best to sample as many of those places and ways as possible, often with an ample measure of other seafood added in for variety.

I have to confess I turned down a spoonful of “lobstah ice cream,” but I may have to go back for a sample, just to say I did. (Somehow, I just can’t imagine it — in the same way that I cannot imagine fried clam, jalapeno or barbecued chicken ice cream!)

Keeping It Simple

In Maine, especially in the summer, it’s hard to escape lobster specials. There are 2 and 3-lobster dinners with all the trimmings served by uniformed waiters at fine restaurants. And there are lobster rolls at Red’s Eats in Wiscasset, with long lines and periodic traffic101_3355 jams at all hours, no matter what the weather. A person can buy lobsters from friendly vendors along the road who will steam them so you can take them home and add the sides yourself, your choice.

In Maine, McDonald’sWP_20160709_028 even serves lobster. For a quick bite, it’s not at all bad! Honest.

But the best way? Again, it’s personal choice, of course, but lobster fresh off the boat and straight from the tank, eaten at a picnic table on a pier overlooking a local working harbor is really about as close to “wonderful” as it gets. At most of the local lobster piers, it’s perfectly acceptable to pack a picnic basket with your own favorite appetizers, sides and beverages and make an afternoon or an evening of it.

In Midcoast Maine, locals have their own preferences; co-ops and waterside restaurants do a brisk business even when the tourist trade is off. Some of the local hangouts serve lobster, steamers (clams) and corn only. Others have a full menu that might include burgers, coleslaw and potato salad, grilled cheese sandwiches, clams, mussels, scallops, shrimp, crab and haddock. French fries and onion rings tempt adults and children alike. And then there’s dessert. Ice cream stands are at least as popular as lobster shacks!

All About Food

About that state food — there really is no officially designated “state food” in Maine. That would take an action by the state legislature, and we’ll just trust that these days they have better things to do!  101_3107However, just in case you’re interested, Moxie is the official state drink and the whoopie pie is the “state treat.” Don’t know about whoopie pies? Ask any Mainer!

There are other people, by the way, who think lobster should be Maine’s special food. There are at least several lists, and that crusty little crustacean is on every one I found, in one form or another.

Maybe we should start lobbying for that “official” designation after all! It’ll get my vote!