Travel

A dose of good cheer . . .

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ Leave a comment

There’s something about Americans.

They are everywhere, it seems. Sometimes by choice; sometimes by happenstance, often on orders and sometimes unwillingly. Americans travel the globe. Occasionally, they’re “ugly.” Almost always, when Americans “discover” a place, it is changed. And many would argue that change, though inevitable, is less than desirable.

There are other nationalities that also travel the globe; many of them English-speaking — Brits, Canadians, Australians. But there are French-speakers, Spanish-speakers, Scandinavians, Asians, and Africans. In fact, today, all nationalities travel extensively. Most travel rather inconspicuously.  Americans tend to stand out and are occasionally the brunt of jokes and the subject of pervasive and less-than-flattering stereotypes. 

But, there’s something about Americans.

On Christmas Day morning, on a beach in Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico, a group of Americans gathers to hang stuffed animals, matchbox cars, soccer balls, footballs, Barbie dolls, and an assortment of other toys from the palapas and beach umbrellas of a local hotel. They wear Santa hats, blinking reindeer noses and silly, floppy reindeer antlers, candy cane shirts, and an assortment of other red and green attire with their swimsuits and shorts.

The beach chairs and lounges are circled to keep the public at a distance. No one really seems to be in charge. At 8:30 am on Christmas Day, it is quiet on the beach. And then more people arrive, some with armloads of stuffed animals, some with plastic bags from the Walmart on the other side of the Mexican city. Some come with one or two toys. Many dropped off their “goodies” earlier in the week. Word spread about the event, and the crowd steadily grew larger.

Volunteers bring ribbons and scissors. There is a festive spirit. Onlookers gather.

Soon, a group of children begin to form a line, off to one side. Quiet, and well-behaved, they stand with their parents and older siblings. They watch. They wait.

This ritual began more than 20 years ago. On Christmas Day 2004, I was on that beach that Christmas Day. A woman named Marge from Nashville, TN, one of the original group of Santa’s helpers, asked volunteers to walk down the beach to find more children. “This is the best year ever,” she said, “and I’m not sure we have enough children for all the gifts.”

There is no publicity. This is not an organized effort. There is no tax deduction attached to these gifts. There were lots of pictures taken. There are big smiles on the faces of the adults. The children look on with wide-eyed wonder. There are tears. There are hugs. There is a sense of excitement. There are cookies and soft drinks and music on a beach in Puerto Vallarta on Christmas Day. And there is a sense of community.

Even though most of the children speak no English, and most of the adults speak little Spanish, there is no language barrier.

One man with a distinctively British accent and a camera pauses to ask what is happening. When it is explained, he makes no comment. But he remains to take pictures, staying on the fringes but joining in the palpable spirit of goodwill.

At precisely 11 am, four Mexican children are allowed to enter the “garden” of hanging toys, each one accompanied by an adult American volunteer with a small pair of scissors. As each child walks through, he is allowed to take his time to look, and then his selection is snipped from its ribbon hanger and handed to him. It is almost silent. There is no screaming, no running. There is a sense of reverence as the child clutches his selection to his chest and then is escorted to the other edge of the toy-filled enclosure.

Children of hotel employees, youngsters whose parents are beach vendors, and children who have come to the beach for a day near the water and the sun with their extended families are the honored guests. They are all Mexican children. That is the only requirement.

It is not their tradition. Christmas, in Mexico, is a deeply religious holiday, with a family-oriented emphasis. Santa Claus does not visit most Mexican children.

But where there are Americans, there are some traditions that are hard to break. In the United States, there are toys for children. So, where Americans gather at Christmas, there will invariably be toys.

There is something about Americans.

Note: I first wrote this nearly two decades ago for an online publication that no longer exists. I was thinking today about that long ago Christmas on the beach, and it seemed appropriate to repost this piece this year, at a time when the world seems to need a large dose of goodness and cheer. I don’t know if the tradition continues in Puerto Vallarta. I hope it does. But, whether the beach party is still held or not, it is a wonderful memory. I wish Happy Holidays to all, no matter what holidays you celebrate or where you celebrate them. And may 2023 be a good year for us all!

The Lowell Milken Center: Recognizing Unsung Heroes

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ Leave a comment

The Lowell Milken Center for Unsung Heroes occupies one of the newer buildings in Fort Scott, Kansas, situated across the street from its original location. Several century-old historic buildings in downtown Fort Scott, Kansas, were destroyed by fire in 2005 and have since been rebuilt. An adjacent outdoor park opened earlier this year and is a contemporary urban delight. The downtown still retains its former character, with traditional brick buildings and brick-paved streets, but the city’s history is being written with renewed vigor.

Stories told at the Center are larger than life, brought to life in a way that is truly remarkable. The history of the Milken Center is as awe-inspiring as the lives of the featured heroes. Visitors are introduced to real people who lived seemingly ordinary lives, playing largely unknown and unrecognized roles in history. Their stories have been uncovered, researched, and retold by students, through art and drama, photographs and videos, essays and interactive displays. Their truths are as thought-provoking as they are disturbing. The history of the Milken Center is as awe-inspiring as the lives of the featured heroes.

In 1999, Norm Conard was a social studies teacher at Uniontown High School in rural Kansas. He had given his class a History Day assignment. One of his student teams learned of Irena Sendler, a Polish Catholic social worker who was instrumental in rescuing children from the Warsaw Ghetto during World War II. She buried the names of rescued children in milk jars hidden under a tree. It was, and still is, quite a story. Read a more detailed account here. The students found that Sendler was alive and living still in Poland. In 2001, Conard accompanied a group of students to Poland to meet with her. Several other trips followed, until she passed away in 2007. The student-written play about her deeds, “Life in a Jar,” has been performed more than 350 times, and it continues to be be staged in the U.S and Europe.

During his tenure at Uniontown High School, Conard’s students created more than 85 projects, telling the stories of other common people who performed uncommon acts. Those stories are now the focus and backbone of the Center for Unsung Heroes. New heroes continue to be identified by groups of students — from fourth grade through high school — who have been inspired to dig deep into history and to move far beyond the obvious.

Today, Norm Conard serves as chief executive officer of the Center and is also the director of the Life in a Jar Foundation. It was, after all, his classroom motto for the History Day project in 1999 that gave birth to the idea. That motto? “He who changes one person, changes the world entire.” The Lowell Milken Center was founded with the goal of creating ripples of influence that will engage even more educators and students in an effort to change the world. Megan Felt, one of the students who first identified Irena Sendler, is the center’s program director.

Plan to spend longer than you may originally intend at the Milken Center. It is no ordinary museum. It’s a place to discover the true meaning of heroes in a time when that word is often overused. It’s mesmerizing and unforgettable.

But the Milken Center isn’t the only reason to visit Fort Scott.

Before Kansas was even a territory, Fort Scott was a military outpost. It was established on the frontier in 1842 but the Army abandoned the garrison in 1853. The city was chartered in 1860, one year before Kansas became a state. Today, it’s the only such town to survive. Its military cemetery, one of 12 originally designated by President Abraham Lincoln, is listed as U.S. National Cemetery #1.

Our group spent that first night in Kansas at the Courtland Hotel and Day Spa. Situated in a building that dates to 1906, it was once a bustling laundry with a boarding house on its upper level. Proprietor Frank Adamson, a Fort Scott native, is only too happy

to offer insights into city history! He and his wife, a massage therapist, purchased the building as a location for her to open a day spa. They remodeled a portion of the main floor for the spa, with refurbished guest rooms on the second floor. Today, each room in the hotel is distinctive, filled with antiques and period decor to complement the architecture and honor the building’s history. A main floor lobby, office area and dining room retain the period charm of the past, and serve as a gathering spot where Adamson regales guests with stories of Fort Scott’s past.

A center of pre-Civil War turmoil between slavery proponents in nearby Missouri and local anti-slavery forces, this part of of the state was known as “Bleeding Kansas” until the end of the Civil War, even though Kansas entered the union as a free state in late January 1861, before the war began. As the U.S. Army’s district Headquarters, Fort Scott was a quartermaster supply depot, training center, and recruitment station.

At one time, it was a noted frontier city, one of the largest in eastern Kansas, and it rivaled Kansas City as a railroad center. All that now remains of that time is the original, restored Old Fort building, now relocated to the town square. But the stories that date to those times are fascinating, and visiting Fort Scott is like stepping back in time to a simpler era. Brick-paved streets, sturdy brick buildings, and stately period lamp posts reflect its history, but its people have their sights set on the future, and they’re doing their best to integrate the two.

We left Fort Scott and headed for Route 66 — The Mother Road. Only 13 miles of the unique highway traversed a corner of the state, but it’s impossible to escape the influence of the Route in this part of Kansas. Come along next Wednesday as we recreate a legendary road trip. We had great fun along the way and discovered more unique attractions in Southeast Kansas!

Kansas — living the dream

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ Leave a comment

Today’s Kansas is not the one that Dorothy and Toto might easily recognize. The winds still blow hard across the state’s prairies. No doubt they still have the power to swirl some dirt around and can occasionally cause tall grass to bend almost horizontal to the ground. The state has endured its share of hard weather and hard times over the years, and not only in fiction.

Today, however, Kansas has its eyes on the future, and that future is bright. The past two and a half years of pandemic closures and uncertainty have in some ways been a catalyst for the growth and development that began before the shutdown. Change is “impatient” in the state today.

The focus is forward-facing and the vibe everywhere is hopeful and energetic.

In late September, I participated in a whirlwind three-day tour of southeast Kansas. As the region’s Travel Guide proclaims: “SOUTH of the stars, EAST of the sunset, smack dab in the heart of America.” This is not a part of Kansas I had previously visited, and I didn’t know quite what to expect.

From the air, the state resembles a patchwork quilt of color, with sinewy ribbons of rivers and roads winding across the prairies. Kansas is filled with small farming communities, each with a unique personality. There are many; we flew into Kansas City, visited Fort Scott, Humboldt, Chanute, Galena, Pittsburg, and Baxter Springs, and drove through others without stopping. Although all towns in Kansas are classified as “cities,” only five boast populations of 100,000 or more. Everywhere we went, we met locals who are in the process of redefining their past history and their future in distinctive ways. Make no mistake, history is intertwined with dreams here in southeast Kansas, and that contributes to the region’s infectious vitality.

To be fair, I was not completely unfamiliar with Kansas, known as the Sunflower State. I was grounded at the Kansas City Airport during a snowstorm many years ago — not one of my happier memories. But the flatland prairies calm me, and road trips always are interesting. The Cosmosphere in Hutchinson is not only fascinating but well worth an extended visit. Four years ago, I enjoyed an all-too-short visit to Wichita. I knew about Fort Leavenworth and Fort Riley, but Fort Scott was new to me.

However, I didn’t arrive for my recent visit to this “flyover state” anywhere near as enthusiastic as I was when it came time to leave. The trip was eye-opening, the people welcoming and the sights impressive in unique ways. It was invigorating to spend time on the ground in the heart of America.

I want to return. Sooner rather than someday!    

Today’s winds of change are especially strong in some of the state’s traditional farming communities. The New York Times chose Humboldt as one of its 52 best places to travel for 2022. After being there, I know why! The land may not have changed much, but its inhabitants have. It’s hard not to fall in love with this part of the state. Southeast Kansas is full of pleasant surprises and some quirky attractions, and its people seem to be moving at full throttle into a future even they cannot yet quite imagine.

Travel with me . . .

Over the next several weeks I’ll share more of my thoughts. We’ll start in Fort Scott and the jewel in its crown – the Lowell Milken Center for Unsung Heroes. Then, we’ll move on to the 13 miles of Route 66 that still cross this corner of the state and explore other Kansas byways, ending in Emporia, now the acknowledged center of two thoroughly modern sports – disc golf and gravel bicycle racing. We’ll visit the Martin and Osa Johnson Safari Museum in Chanute, a small city also known for its ties to railroading and early aeronautics.

All along the way, we’ll explore Kansas eateries, sampling traditional “comfort food” and new taste treats served by innovative chefs and restaurateurs. This was a trip that kept us on the move. Despite a rental van glitch that required a delayed start and an initial itinerary adjustment, our group of journalists crammed a week’s worth of experiences into the time we had, thanks to the extraordinary planning of Kansas Tourism and our local hosts.

Join me to learn more about the food we enjoyed along the way — it may surprise you! Then, if you should decide to see southeast Kansas for yourself, know that residents of its many charming communities will show you around and make you feel at home — visitors to Kansas don’t remain strangers for long!

71 10 21– and other points on the globe

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ 1 Comment

Magnetic North, the point on the globe where all other locations lie to the south, is commonly known as the North Pole. But it’s moving, sometimes pretty rapidly, according to scientists.

Despite romantic notions to the contrary, the North Pole is not a physical point on the planet, but it’s also not a figment of the imagination.

It’s not where Santa Claus hangs out. It’s not a very hospitable place. And, no, I have not been there. In fact, I haven’t been even close. But, last summer I crossed into the Arctic Circle as a passenger aboard a lavish modern cruise ship, Princess Cruise lines Island Princess. It was a unique adventure, and the trip is spectacular. My husband and I were there during “polar day,” which lasts from about the time of the Spring Equinox in late March through late September. During those days the sun never completely falls beneath the horizon and one can read at midnight with no need for a lamp.

At 66 (plus a little bit) degrees north latitude, the Arctic Circle forms a ring around what is known as the Earth’s North Pole. The certificates we received to commemorate the crossing, signed by Ship’s Captain Paul Slight, attest that on “Friday, June 17, 2022 at 12:12 am,” we crossed that fabled line. In our minds, we had become Arctic explorers.

We traveled further north. Nordkapp lies at Latitude 71°10′21″ N, a high plateau on a spit of land that rises almost 400 feet above the swirling Arctic Ocean below. It is cold, windy and forbidding on the best of days. In the winter, the road to Nordkapp is often impassable, and not even reindeer remain on the surrounding fields.

The nearest town is approximately 22 kilometers distant. Oslo, Norway’s capital, lies about 2000 kilometers to the south, and the North Pole is about the same distance further north. At the easternmost end of the virtually uninhabited land, there is a 121.6-mile land border with Russia, established by treaty in 1826. But few travelers cross at the single border station, and the boundary between the two countries continues through the Barents Sea and the Arctic Ocean. As the furthest north point of land in continental Europe, Nordkapp attracts visitors who harbor the same dreams that have lured explorers to points unknown over the centuries. Their stories are captivating.

Early visitors had to arrive by boat on the sea below. They scaled steep, rocky cliffs to reach the point above. There was no visitor center then, and the path back down the cliff had to be even more difficult than the climb up.

Today, the draw of this stunning promontory is so powerful that tourist buses sometimes follow snowplows to bring visitors to the point. Our trip in June, however, entailed a pleasant drive along modern roadways, punctuated by native Sami settlements and the sight of reindeer grazing on the barren windswept land. They and their Sami masters invariably return to the mainland in the fall, prior to “polar night,” when the sun does not rise above the horizon for a period of months. We also visited a northern fishing village, which must feel terribly isolated during the winter.

Another northern port, sadly, was canceled. We had been scheduled to call at Svalbard, the island that houses the Svalbard Global Seed Vault, an underground facility that stores millions of crop seeds from throughout the globe, protecting them against disasters of all kinds, including global warming. We had anticipated visiting Longyearbyen, the largest settlement with a population exceeding 1,000 in the Arctic region, but the visit was canceled at the 11th hour.

Our trip through the coastal fjords was spectacular, relaxing and enlightening. We are grateful to have had the opportunity to visit a far-away landscape that is awesomely beautiful, to drink in the natural beauty of the far North, and to meet the people who inhabit this extraordinary landscape. Those who live here are accustomed to strangers, but no one remains a stranger for long!

Now, another adventure awaits . . .

In January 2023, my husband and I — barring unforeseen circumstances — will experience another polar day. We will reach approximately 65 degrees south of the Equator and cruise among the ice shelves and along the shoreline of this unique continent. Our 16-day itinerary with the Sapphire Princess promises to be a unique adventure. We are not likely, given the size of our ship and current regulations, to cross Latitude 66°33′49.3″ which is the official Antarctic Circle. Only the smaller expedition ships and scientific teams venture further into this ice-covered environment.

We are scheduled to fly into Santiago, Chile, and embark from the port of Valparaiso for a journey that will take us to the southern reaches of Patagonia, and to Ushuaia, “the southernmost outpost in the world” at the tip of Argentina. We expect to sail in Beagle channel, as did Charles Darwin, and round Cape Horn just as previous generations of seafarers did on their voyages to the new world. Then, we look forward to spending four full days cruising the waters of the Antarctic Peninsula, leaving Ushuaia at the southern tip of Argentina and traversing Drake Passage, hopefully without incident, and with minimal turbulence from notoriously rough waters where the currents of three oceans collide. It’s a voyage I have long envisioned!

Just days ago, however, on December 2, 2022, I learned of the rogue wave that struck the Viking Polaris in nearby waters, resulting in the death of a passenger, injuries to four others, and damage to a well-equipped modern cruise ship. I realized once again that we humans have little control over the forces of nature, much as we would like to be the “powers that be.”

Does it concern me? Not enough to change our existing plans, but I cannot claim it didn’t give me pause. This trip to the bottom of the world, just as our trip to the Arctic Circle, will be during a polar day (or summer season) due to the inclination of the earth in relation to the sun. When my husband and I travel in late January to the southern reaches of the globe, will it be calmer in those waters? I do not know.

There are no permanent settlements in Antarctica, and the various research stations are located further south than our journey will take us. We will not set foot on Antarctica, the seventh of earth’s continents, but to gaze out at the barren expanses of snow-covered terrain and cruise past glistening icebergs, larger even than the ones we encountered in Alaska, will be enough. I, for one, am enthralled by the thought of being (relatively) close to another of earth’s legendary places — the South Pole. Like the North Pole, it is not a fixed point — it, too, shifts, even though there is a land mass below. If we are fortunate enough to spy seabirds, seals, penguins, albatross, and other wildlife in their natural habitat, we will count it as a bonus.

And, if our travel through Drake Passage is a calm one, I am certain we will be forever grateful. This trip to the “bottom of the world” is not only the culmination of a long-held dream, it also seems a fitting “second act” to last summer’s Arctic adventure.

Why Travel — Take Two

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ Leave a comment

Today I’m sharing, with a bit of nostalgia, some of my favorite photos from the past three years; 2019 took us to Bermuda, Alaska, Maine, Cuba, on a Mediterranean cruise, and then on to a delightful road trip through Croatia, with a final couple of days in rainy, flooded Venice before flying home on Thanksgiving Day. We were thankful to be home, sharing turkey and reheated stuffing with family after a long journey.

This past November we spent a few brief hours on Thanksgiving Day with dear friends on Florida’s Gulf Coast. We met them years ago on Cabbage Key — but, that’s another story. What is pertinent and what seems fitting is that just as one chapter in our book of travel stories ended on Thanskgiving, the next began to take shape with a similar celebration. For us, it was another reason to be thankful, despite the somewhat complicated travel timing and logistics.

We are hungry for new experiences since the world shut down in March of 2020, and we have no fear of becoming satiated. This year, our travel plans — yes, we’ve made tentative plans through early 2023 — will take us to both familiar destinations and entirely new places.

Had previous plans jelled the way we hoped, we would now be packing for a voyage from Buenos Aires to Antarctica, followed by calls at Rio de Janeiro and several other Brazilian ports, before a trans-Atlantic crossing to Barcelona by way of Cabo Verde, off the coast of West Africa. But plans do not always work out the way we envision them. Sadly, that entire itinerary was scrapped more or less at the last minute because South American tourism has not yet fully rebounded from the global pandemic. As you know if you follow my blog, bookings were changed multiple times during the past two years, as (at last count) 16 cruises were canceled or altered so drastically that we decided to forgo them.

If we have learned anything through it all, it has been to embrace possibilities, to grab at every chance to be with family and friends, to not put off trips for no good reason, and to never give up on dreams. Opportunities to travel are sometimes fleeting, and there is no journey not to be savored.

I look forward to what is to come. But, during the past 20 months, I have also looked backward, back to past journeys as well as at some of the trips not taken. My husband and I are now reconsidering some of those itineraries. Our trips closer to home have been interesting and fulfilling, and we are happy to have had an opportunity to explore our new home state and its neighbors. We plan to do more of that!

It has been interesting. Not in any cosmic, earth-shattering way, but from a personal perspective. I came across a tattered, aging journal as I was sorting travel memorabilia, with notes from a driving trip through France and Spain many, many years ago. I was in Tarragona, a medieval Mediterranean port city in northern Spain. I was living in France at the time, and had not long before returned from a trip through the Middle East.

The entry is dated May 31, 1966. I read the words with wonder:

“I passed through Andorra, one of the smallest countries on earth, and thought, ‘I could be happy here.’ This happens often — the feeling passes in time, and even more quickly if I stay to try to shape reality from the dream. . . .”

It was just a brief entry, and it surprised me.

My younger self had not yet become a storyteller. I like to believe that the intervening years have taught me. Reading what I wrote then, I wondered about the circumstances. I cannot now recall them, except to say that I had hoped to return to Andorra briefly this spring, when a planned road trip through the Basque country of France and Spain would have put us close enough for a side trip to that intriguing small nation in the Pyrenees. That trip is one of those that has not yet materialized.

For many reasons, I am eager to be on the move again. Time seems to move faster today than it once did, and 24 months, for me at least, seems far too long to be essentially “at home.” My realization is that I am at least partially defined by the places I travel. Getting gone seems even more essential now. The road trips, brief flights and short cruises have simply been teases.

I have changed in the years since I first visited Andorra. I wonder if it has. Would I still be happy there, or was that the illusion of a younger me, a dream now withered and unimportant?

What about you? Are you ready to travel again? Do you yearn to meet new people, savor new sights, taste new foods and make new friends? I hope so, and I wish you safe travels and lasting memories, no matter where you choose to roam.

But, I hope you’ll continue to come along with me as I pack my bags for distant destinations.

Traditions . . .

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ Leave a comment

This has been a year — or at least a few months — for examining past traditions. When the future seems uncertain, there is something comforting about remembering the past, getting lost in nostalgia, and returning to happier days full of memories of family, friends, fun and tradition.

It has been especially true during all the holidays of the year: Valentines Day, Mardi Gras, Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, Labor Day. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas and New Years — many of those special times normally full of family celebrations and traditions have passed us by since 2020.

In the days leading up to fall holidays, few of us would have believed that the “norm” in 2021 would once again be another scaled-down version of Thanksgiving dinner. It may not have been potluck shared by extended family at socially distanced outdoor picnic tables in a state park, (yes, that happened the previous year), but for most it was, once again, a small table not heavily laden.

Many of our holiday celebrations, those that actually were held, have been accompanied by masks and elbow bumps, but no hugs. Who would have predicted that we would spend last Christmas alone, despite the hopeful news in 2020 that two effective vaccines were ready to be delivered nationwide? Who then would have believed that “the abundance of caution” against large family gatherings would continue for a second Christmas? Who could have imagined yet another mutated virus wreaking havoc with family get-togethers and travel plans now and for the foreseeable future? Yet, that is exactly what has occurred.

May you live in interesting times . . .

Depending on your upbringing and mindset, that phrase has alternately been considered a blessing or a curse. Although there is little evidence that it originated with the Chinese, and even less that it stems from a Yiddish expression or a rabbinical interpretation, it persists in the minds of many of us as a warning that we should never get too comfortable. Life is not to be taken for granted.

Our times — this past year and three quarters, and still today — are nothing if not interesting.

Many of us are still hopeful that we will once again be free to travel freely. But, with the return to mandated masking in many places, extensive travel disruption attributed to ill employees, and persistent warnings about travel, gatherings and testing, we are again uncertain. We hope that we will continue to care for others, by being mindful about where we go, what we do and how we act. But, as this last year has taught us, life is fragile. I am now even more convinced that we must savor the traditions that have brought us here.

For me, that means being with friends, not via face time, Skype or Zoom meetings, but up close and personal. It means sharing good times, welcoming the births of new babies and celebrating graduations and promotions. More importantly, it means being together to comfort one another during sadness and hard times. Working remotely may not be a great hardship. But, being continually remote — from family, friends and business associates — is devastating.

This past year, I lost several acquaintances to COVID. Many others in my circle of friends and family have been ill with the virus. Others, both vaccinated and unvaccinated, have tested positive recently, with varied symptoms and severity, with — presumably — the Omicron variant. I am learning more than I ever wanted to know about the SARS-CoV-2, commonly known as COVID-19.

Humans were not meant to be solitary animals. That is only too evident today, with increasing concerns about not only mental health, but the economy.

The path forward seems clear. We must not forget these past months, nor the shutdowns, the fear, the toll it has taken on lives and livelihoods. But, we also must not give up hope. Let’s don’t ever forget what makes life worth living. Let’s all honor those traditions that we missed so much in 2020 and were hesitant to resume in 2021. Let’s not return to the place of isolation and alarm. Let’s be smart rather than complacent, but let’s go on living our lives with confidence

Yes, COVID-19 is a scary disease. But all diseases are scary. And those who are sick need to be comforted, not left alone. No matter what or how you celebrate the special days that are to come this year, may holidays that are meant to bring us together in the coming months continue to bless you, uplift your spirits and prepare you for what lies ahead.

That is my wish this second day of the new year.

Rubber Duckies: Back at Sea

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ Leave a comment

Note: This post was first published as “Rubber Duckies and the Road Ahead” in August 2016; it has been revised slightly and updated to reflect new information about the continuing duck craze!

Several years ago I wrote a column about rubber duckies, discussing the pervasive fascination with that familiar childhood bathtub toy. Who doesn’t love a rubber duck?

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A personalized rubber duckie was one of the first gifts I bought for my grandson — that turned into a progression (and a collection) of rubber duckies of various colors and costumes. The obsession spilled over into gifts for my then high-school-teacher son (Professor Duck) and various other family members, with ducks for each succeeding holiday. Then, like other enthusiasms, my duck-gifting phase ran its course to echoes of “Enough, Mom, enough.” 

Rubber Duckies are available in all sizes, a few varied shapes, numerous colors and with all sorts of “costumes” and personalities.  However, the perennial favorite is still the yellow version, with bright orange bill and black eyes. Many collections feature “one of a kind” or limited-edition duckies; Stories are circulated about duck adventures, and tales are told of lost or rescued ducks.  Ducks are used in NASA glacier-tracking experiments, and there are still sightings of some of the group of “globe-trotting” ducks that “jumped ship” in the Pacific in January of 1992.  Really.

Rubber Duck Races, generally to benefit local charities, are held from Seattle to the Ozarks, from Washington, D.C., to Crested Butte, from Texas to Tahoe.  One of the largest duck races is in Hawaii, and some of the most informal are held in small town creeks, canals and even in swimming pools.

I am still tempted when I see an especially appealing little duck in a store window. And I gasped with delight at news photographs of a giant rubber duck making its way through Lake Superior at a Tall Ships Festival in Duluth, Minn. In August of 2021, a 25-foot-tall mystery duck with the word “JOY” emblazoned on its chest appeared mysteriously, to the delight of local residents, in the harbor in Belfast, Maine. Then, just as mysteriously, it disappeared.

So, imagine my surprise when I encountered a stylized rubber “duckie” with mane and tail in the middle of Virginia horse country during a summer road trip.

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I was immediately smitten, not only with the little rubber horsie that perched on the edge of the Lexington motel room bathtub, but with the motel itself. After the whoops and the grins — and the picture-taking — I thought about the marketing genius that played to the playfulness of tired travelers.

The clerk was accommodating, more than willing to let us pick a mate for our little rubber traveling companion, only exacting a promise that we would honor the commitment to snap pictures as we traveled on. That we did, and the little horsie-ducks happily sat on the dashboard — a pair of cute mascots — for the next 3,000 or so miles of our journey. They traveled through city traffic, along country roads, into Quebec and Ontario, skirted along several of the Great Lakes and sat under the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. It proved, I think, that we are never too old for a little silliness in our lives.

Our little companions abandoned their perch on the dashboard when the temperature soared regularly above 100 degrees back home in Texas. But they accompanied us on several other adventures; today they spend most of their time perched happily on a shelf in my office, joined by a sizable “paddling” of ducks collected from many places over the years.

Just recently, during a quick weekend visit to Eureka Springs, Arkansas, The Bridgeford House, a charming B&B, had a pair of ducks perched on the edge of the jetted tub in our bathroom. I was delighted, and I was tempted to take at least one, but I allowed them to stay to greet future guests.

Rubber ducks on cruise ships, some with “passports” and others with “tickets” and messages from previous owners, were regularly hidden on cruise ships prior to the cessation of cruising in early 2020 due to the pandemic. They had gained a large following aboard major cruise lines. Now, we understand, the craze has gained new life, and there are numerous cruising ducks pages on Facebook. It’s a phenomenon of the times, with a number of spinoffs — crocheted ducks, duck jewelry and key chains, duck towels and duck art — for fun-loving children, and equally fun-loving “adult children” at sea and on land.

Some cruise lines have embraced the fun, selling ducks and duck-themed gifts in onboard shops. And some crew members are enthusiastic collectors as well! Rubber duckies don’t take up much space or make a mess; they are exceedingly patient and compliant travelers, requiring no special accommodations or food. But they did, do and will continue to make us smile! So, if you come across a duck in your travels, feel free to befriend it and take it home. Or let it remain in its hiding place to bring a smile to another face. Post a photo on one of the online groups, if you choose, or rehide it to give someone else the pleasure of finding it. Release your inner child, and just enjoy the experience. I have only found one duck on board a ship, but you can bet I’ll be keeping my eyes open next time I sail.

*Multicolored duck photo by Jo Naylor/Flickr; others by Adrienne Cohen; The motel was the Comfort Inn Virginia Horse Center, Lexington, VA, and The Bridgeford House B&B is located at 263 Spring St., Eureka Springs, AR.

Long may it wave. . .

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ Leave a comment

 

Today is a day for waving the flag. It always has been. On this most American of American holidays, Old Glory — the red, white and blue — is displayed prominently everywhere. Along with the fireworks, the hot dogs and brats, sauerkraut and beans, potato salad and beer, it is a quintessential American holiday. I love it, and so do most people I know.

Other countries also have national holidays, and they’re wonderful as well. But this one is mine. I am an American, above all, and I celebrate the history of my country and the heritage of my forebears who worked to build and preserve this nation.

This weekend I will celebrate! With outdoor concerts and picnics, with old friends and new acquaintances, on the lake and in the park, I will celebrate. Here in Hot Springs Village, the celebration has continued since Friday, culminating in a “beach party” and fireworks over Lake Balboa tonight. I have enjoyed it all, but at some point in the celebration, I will pause to remember why.

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I will celebrate the freedom that was proclaimed for us all 255 years ago, and won anew in skirmishes that extended for years, until a decisive battle was won against the British in September of 1814. It was the battle that led to the penning of the poem that was to become our National Anthem.

And it was the tattered American flag flying over Fort McHenry in Baltimore Harbor “in the dawn’s early light,” that inspired Francis Scott Key to write those words. How different history would have been had it been the Union Jack that he saw.  However, it was not until 1931 that The Star-Spangled Banner was adopted as our national anthem.

Have a wonderful Fourth of July everyone.

 

 

 

 

Taking to the seas, skies and roadways once again: Be smart, and enjoy the trip!

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ 1 Comment

More people today travel to more places more often than ever before in history. At least they did, before the world came grinding to a halt due to the COVID pandemic. When restrictions are lifted once again for worldwide leisure travel, the experience will undoubtedly be changed.

What will it look like? As yet, we’re all a bit uncertain. What is certain, however, is that Americans and other nationalities will continue to travel, very probably in record numbers.

It’s not just the numbers, but also the percentages of people traveling that has skyrocketed in recent years. More than 28.5 million people took to the seas in 2018, according to Cruise Lines International Association, the world’s largest cruise industry trade association, and 2019 was expected to reach or exceed 30 million, once all numbers were tallied. Cruises regularly discharged passengers into crowded ports around the globe for visits that spanned only a few hours.

According to figures from the U.S. Travel Association, “U.S. residents logged 1.8 billion person‐trips* by air for leisure purposes in 2018,” and a record number of Americans, more than 93 million, traveled outside the country that year, according to data supplied by the U.S. Commerce Department’s National Travel and Tourism Office. A fair portion of those flights brought travelers to foreign ports so that they could board cruise ships.

*A person-trip is defined as one person on a trip away from home overnight in paid accommodations or on a day or overnight trip to places 50 miles or more [one-way] away from home.

All Those Ships

The cruise industry had become a major economic factor for many nations, impacting an astonishingly broad spectrum of goods, services and specialties. It is one of the largest worldwide employers, and the shutdown has affected broad segments of the worldwide economy.

The statistics are sobering:

It is estimated that 8.75 million passengers missed their cruises as of October 31, 2020. Between mid-March and the end of September last year, approximately 334,000 cruise-related jobs were lost. In the United States alone, the lost revenue was estimated to reach about $26 billion by the end of October 2020. And those figures don’t begin to count what has happened since.

There’s no doubt that it was “big business,” but there is even less doubt that the number of travelers will continue to increase, according to cruise industry spokespeople. Despite the worrisome statistics, bookings for future travel are up for the coming year, and for succeeding years, pointing to significant future demand. Travel is not expected to return to the “old normal” soon, perhaps not ever. But those who miss traveling and are eager to set off once again, for the most part, will embrace airline and cruise travel no matter what new restrictions may be are imposed.

About 7,000 cruise passengers were quarantined aboard their ships, in Japan, other Asian ports and various other parts of the world, including some ports in the United States in the early days of the pandemic. and other places in Asia. However, bookings for future cruised were not canceled in large numbers until the cruise industry ban on travel became a reality across the globe. Today, based on reports from all cruise lines, bookings are up for 2021, 2022 and already for 2023, even though only a handful of ships have actually begun to carry passengers.

“Stay Nimble!”

The prevailing attitude of passengers booked on a Transpacific sailing scheduled to depart Yokohama, Japan May 10 was “wait and see,” until the final moment. The cruise, of course, was canceled, but a high percentage of those passengers affected by the cancellation immediately transferred their deposits to another sailing on a future date. Refunds and incentives for future bookings were attractive, and most cruisers seem willing to wait it out.

My husband and I are among those who have had multiple cancellations. We are eager to see the return of cruise ship travel. As others in the same boat, we had little idea that the ban would persist for an entire year. We certainly did not foresee longer than a year!

Now we are encouraged not only by recent rulings that will allow ships to travel from U.S. ports to Alaska for a part of the summer, bypassing British Columbia. We are even more encouraged by the news that other U.S. ports will be embarking passengers this summer for short itineraries to Bermuda, the Bahamas, Mexico and the Caribbean.

We currently have deposits on three cruises — one this fall, one for January 2022, and another for June 2022. This is new territory for us to navigate: We seldom plan that far ahead. Typically we are much more spontaneous in our bookings. But by booking early, we have taken advantage of lower prices and additional perks. We still have dreams to hold on to. We have practiced living with hope for far too long.

Fears and Facts

Major concerns still exist. Will the logistics of future travel become more difficult? Will insurance continue to cover financial loss due to a world health scare. Will the spread of Coronavirus finally be contained. Will we be able to travel without masks, but with proof of vaccination? We realize that these concerns may seem frivolous in the face of illness and death, financial woes and the other pain associated with a worldwide pandemic, political unrest and continuing uncertainty about the future.

But for many of us, the ability to meet new people, enjoy new experiences, and explore new ideas through travel is nearly as vital as breathing, eating and sleeping. So, the questions remain.

If you love traveling, are you currently making plans for the future? Where — and how — will you be traveling? When will you deem it safe to leave home, to fly to a destination half a world away, to be on a ship at sea with thousands of other people and no immediate access to comprehensive medical care. Is taking a road trip across the United States now a viable alternative to other forms of travel?

These are important questions that each person and every family must answer from an individual perspective. There are no right answers. What are your thoughts? I would love to hear from you.

Until we can all meet up in some foreign port and share stories around a friendly table, just stay curious and be safe. Be ready to pack up and go when it becomes possible!

Faraway is close at hand . . .

~ Adrienne Cohen ~ 2 Comments

It recently occurred to me that the small town in Texas I now call home is the “faraway” to most of the world’s inhabitants. It’s still true that most places on earth are totally unfamiliar to most of us, even though we refer repeatedly to “the shrinking planet.” There are enough faraway places to keep me occupied for several more lifetimes!

In preparation for the next getaway, I have lately been googling “best things to do in . . .” as an attempt to separate “must do’s” from “possibles.” I’m trying, as always, to jumpstart trip-planning. It’s a task I never finish in advance, but half the fun of going is facing the unexpected. The other half is the anticipation of what’s already decided!

Learning about home . . .

On a whim, I plugged in “best things to do in Burleson, TX.” It was more than just interesting, just short of enlightening. I have started a new mini-list of places to go and things to do right here in my own faraway place. I still qualify as a new arrival, at least in the eyes of born-and-bred local friends.

There are plenty of newcomers to Burleson, drawn by proximity to Fort Worth, reasonable prices, good schools and a distinctive small-town aura. There is a unique vibe — a progressive attitude with pervasive ties to the past — and no shortage of friendly people. This dot on the map was established in the early 1880s as an interim stop for the railroad running south out of Fort Worth.

Later, in 1912, an interurban rail line from Fort Worth to Cleburne also operated a station in Burleson. That depot still stands today. It is, in fact, a cornerstone of the town’s historic district, the focus of a cosmetic redevelopment plan that extends several blocks in each direction from city hall. The historic depot and two early interurban passenger cars will figure as prominently in the city’s future as they did in its past, when trains rumbled through 10 times each day.

Freight trains still run twice daily, sounding mournful whistles and stopping traffic at local crossings. I like that, because I’ve been a lifelong fan of trains and train whistles. (Can you guess why? Because they take people to faraway places, of course!)

Where commonplace and uncommon meet

During my online search, I learned:

There is a periodic ghost tour that makes at least five stops at local “haunts.” There may be no regular schedule, but that tour is on my list!

There is a Coldstone Creamery — how I’ve missed that, I do not know, but I am no stranger to other ice cream shops and numerous pizza parlors!

In 1920, the population was 241. The 2010 census reported 36,690 residents, and next year’s count is likely to exceed 50,000. Whether that is good or not depends largely on one’s point of view.

There’s at least one popular sports bar that features karaoke nights. I will probably continue to miss that attraction, a decision regulars there will surely applaud!

Learning new things about the place I call home made me stop and think about the other places I’ve been recently, those with histories that span many centuries. Burleson is only a child on the world stage.

But my small Texas city is charging forward, growing and taking giant steps to build a sound, healthy, connected community that is good for business, good for residents, supportive of its students and its seniors, welcoming to newcomers, and attuned to citizen wants and needs. It is progressive in all the best ways, and still manages to cherish its past.

It is comfortable.

Reality is the intruder . . .

There are still working farms within Burleson’s borders, along with golf courses and city parks, a creek-size tributary of the Trinity River, a stocked fishing pond, and two local wineries. Its previous rural character is still evident, and getting anywhere in town takes only minutes.

It remains small-town enough to boast large turnouts for summer music and movies on a blocked-off downtown street, for local holiday parades, and for patriotic observances at the city’s Veterans Plaza. It is a place where one can stumble upon painted rocks, left in public places by the volunteer artists of Burleson Rocks. They are meant to be found and treasured by passers-by. And several of its buildings are enlivened by colorful, larger-than-life murals.

It is a place where friends can meet for a spontaneous dinner out without making reservations, and where the sounds of live music drift from a local craft brewery/eatery’s rooftop deck on pleasant evenings. The drumbeat of high school marching band practice punctuates early mornings in the early fall, and local high school football games attract Friday night crowds.

Rabbits and possums are regular backyard visitors, and finding Texas longhorns, horses, donkeys, and even young camels grazing in a field is not entirely unusual.

Even though a busy Interstate runs through it, my city is not a tourist destination by any stretch of the imagination. But if you find yourself in Fort Worth for business or pleasure, Burleson is only about 20 minutes south of the high-rise office buildings and hotels, and it beckons to visitors with the promise of an entirely different Texas experience.