Which years do you remember to finish?

It was quite a year.

We did some traveling. Of course, we wrote about most places we were this year thanks to this blog. We also shared our blog via internet searches like blogsherpa.

We wrote about places we'd visited because we want to treat each one as memorable to us.

There are those places we'll remember.

Then, there are those we find it easiest to talk about. Most of these are popular conversation pieces because they made big impressions or are easy to discuss with people: Shibuya, London, Aix-en-Provence, El Prado, Italy, Monaco, China.

Tonight at the dinner table we talked about all kinds of bugs we saw and ate in Thailand. Later on, I recounted how I enjoyed a BBQ Sparrow in China (one of China's milder gastronomic pursuits). Pretty funny, as it turned out my father-in-law knew this dish from living in Italy.



We want to share more but cannot. Memories are fleeting. So, we move on, remembering everything we can. And, we reinforce our memories with our storytelling. People ask us what we liked most, where our favorite locale was, what was most frightening or unnerving.

I wish people asked us what means most to us when we travel around this world. That answer is easy - the kindness and welcoming spirit of strangers - the joy and friendship and camaraderie which we made momentarily or longer with people we met along our way.

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Falcons at Trafalgar Square

Trafalgar Square is a destination point for many tourists in London: big fountain, National Gallery Museum, big lion statues, plenty of people to see and be seen by.  Undoubtedly, hundreds of Facebook profile photos are taken there each day. I am resistant to taking photos of an object or image that is centered in the viewfinder of so many other cameras, I refuse to stand in line to take the identical shot. That's me.

But it meant that Nathan was carrying the camera as we sauntered up to Trafalgar Square one morning. It was early, still a bit chilly, and the square was logy and lethargic. Bypassing the square itself (and the set of stairs), N took the gently inclining outer edge, while I beelined towards the fountain....I thought that I saw something peculiar....

Sure enough, I was right. Have you ever seen the falcons of Trafalgar Square?

Have you ever noticed how few pigeons flock to Trafalgar Square?

Trafalgar Square was once a square like so many around the world: tourists held fistfulls of birdseed, and squealed with nervousness as they were ungulfed in a flock of hungry and well-trained birds. In fact, in 1996, the Trafalgar flock was calculated to be somewhere around 35,000 birds. ewww.

But a few years later, pigeons were banned from the park. Wait, I mean, feeding the pigeons became a banned activity. But the pigeons dispersed rather quickly without their daily snacks. The absence of pigeons in Trafalgar Square allowed for the space to be used in new ways that had previously been impossible: for movies, commercials, and events.  

However, banning the feeding of pigeons is not always enough. Enter the Falcon. A falconer with his trained falcon makes a daily circut through the park, giving a clear message to the stragglers to push on. With leather ties dangling from legs in mid-flight, the falcon swoops around Admiral Nelson, harranging the lazy pigeons, then returns to the heavily protected arm of the falconer.

They are a sweet pair, rather innocuous and humble. In a city that hosts a perpetual and pervasive tourism culture, I was suprised to see the falconer in a simple t-shirt. 

Not my photo: Stephensamuel at en.wikipedia

 No bobby, no flags, no postcards for sale in hand. Just a normal guy with his beautiful falcon, patrolling Trafalgar Square.

If you want to see the Falcon of Trafalgar Square, best arrive early, before the crowds.

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I Love Libraries

I love libraries, I really do. I love the soft papery smell and the dense organization and the anticipation of discovering a new favorite book. I love the decadent combination of quiet, solitary engrossment within a literary community.  

Libraries have always been part of my life. As a child, I was a voracious (and rather incorrigible) reader. I spent long hours at the Sweet Home Public Library, not just reading or borrowing books, but also participating in kid-focused activities hosted by the library, especially in the summer. I developed a strong friendship with the head librarian; she didn't even bat an eye when I asked if she wanted to see my newly-aquired handstand skills (I was an *active* reader). There was a great encouragement of literacy from both my parents and my community, and a request to be taken to the library was almost never turned down.

During my years at Miss Porter's School, when the old library on Main Street was still in use, I sought the quiet solitude of its aged nooks and crannies as a respite from the all-pervasive company that was part of boarding school life. I grew to know the floor of the Lewis and Clark library quite well, studying until my eyes fluttered and then curling up under a desk (oh, and there was a reasonable extensive collection of books at the college library as well).

We have discovered some incredible new libraries during the course of our world journey. Some new favorites include the Chester Beatty Library in Dublin, the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt, and the Trinity College Library in Dublin. Edinburgh has a series of fantastic libraries, including a Map Library. On our final day in Edinburgh we stopped by, hoping to find some original maps done by my cartographer ancestor, John Ogilby.

And I found them! The first was a brilliant "pocket atlas" that charted roads in and out of London using a new and unique strip map technique. I was stunned to realize that the excentric archivist was actually going to let these untrained and potentially grubby paws touch an old and original book, regardless of whether I was a direct descendent. But he did, even though I refused his proposed trade (old map for a dance in the middle of a library, sans music? It begs the question: from where do you glean your knowledge of American women, do you only watch Dancing with the Stars?).

And so I leafed through an incredibly old pocket atlas that contained original prints from copper plates by John Ogilby. And these maps were beautiful and exceptional and rather remarkable. The 'strip maps,' presented within a scroll design, consist of vertical panels that illustrate a road mile by mile. Intricately detailed images embedded in the map (rivers, mountains, mills, churchs, etc) give landmarks that direct the traveler along the correct course. A small compass is also included to indicate the cardinal direction of travel.

These maps were originally published in John Ogilby's "Britannia," in 1675, as the Kings Royal Cosmographer. While at the Edinburgh Map Library, I got my hands on an original printing of Britannia; the content was estentially the same, but with larger maps and accompanying text. I was able to get a fascimile of one of the maps, and will be able to order the rest via mail.

I don't want to say that I was disinterested in my family history before this journey to Scotland, but the connections I encountered have deepened my geneological interest. The Ogilbys are pretty cool.

Certain elements of Scottish culture and traditions resonated with me and recalled pieces of my family and my childhood. When we were children, my grandmother frequently gifted kilts to my sister and me (please note that these were the properly pleated and sufficiently scratchy versions). The song about "Loch Lomond" unburied itself from my memory and has since refused to depart; does everyone know this song?

Turns out that my Scottish blood is thicker than I realized.

Images of fantastic libraries (and many other themes) from around the world can be found at Curious Expeditions.

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London, Edinburgh, and Dublin are FREE

Oh what a delight it is to realize one's worry and travel expectations rise to frenetic and paranoid levels only to be relieved to discover the opposite is true: London, Edinburgh, and Dublin are FREE!! We spent months worrying about our time in Europe. A friend, Andy H., had smartly told us that we had a great beginning to our itinerary, 'You are smart to begin with Tokyo, Shanghai, China and Hong Hong,' he said, because if you start with the more expensive countries it makes it much easier to enjoy your travel. Everything seems to always get cheaper.'

While it is true that after India, entering Africa, the prices started to tick up; the transition from Ethiopia, to Ghana/Togo, and then Egypt was acceptable, a mild expenditure curve. The curve got steeper traveling from Turkey through the Balkans into Europe (however, we had a brief but very scary insight in Greek southern Cyprus - and thus were prepared. Again, between Italy, France, Spain and Morocco the prices seemed to by consistently high and arbitrarily excessive at times. But, as our readers know from previous blogs, we found wonderfully inexpensive ways to thoroughly enjoy such exquisitely costly locales as Barcelona and Paris. Thus we had a sense of confidence crossing the channel.

London (the British Pound) is quite expensive. But, all of its National Museums are free. I cannot begin to cover all the other great aspects of London which are free but save it to say that between very reasonable theater tickets, the Oyster Card transfer option on buses (maximum £3.50 per day usage charge), the Globe Shakespeare Theater and the numerous local performing acts daily across the city; there is no reason to avoid London because of costs.

It is expensive to buy food, and even more expensive to eat out. If you make friends, use social networking (sites like couchsurfing.com or hospitality club are great for finding hosts really interested in meeting travelers - or if you find camping or cheap hostels), once you get past the daily costs of housing the rest can be very same, close to home. We will definitely consider house-swaps the next time we visit Europe so that we can both stay in one place a while and share our own empty place back home with someone who can enjoy it (and water the plants).

We have written numerous times about how our best experiences of nine months of world travel are those that are free (friendships, public space, sharing meals, and attending public museums, libraries, parks, graveyards and the like always bring us heightened joy). There is a corollary side effect to this philosophy - when people are not paying for activities they take them more lightly. People want to get there money's worth even if they are disinterested! Those who are paying for special exhibits in museums, for example, try and nurse every minute out of the painting and clog the view points (we saw a Turner exhibit at the Prado that was hard top enjoy - whereas the whole Turner wing at the Tate Britain in London was nearly looked over by passersby.

Dublin, like Edinburgh and London just before it, for us has been an utter delight because we wander in and out of public space, museums, libraries, graveyards and the like unencumbered. There is a nice flow. IT is not so crowded as London. Certainly not nearly as crowded as Edinburgh during its myriad of simultaneous festivals happening in August (Fringe, International, Literature, and Tattoo just to name a few). Some of our own favorite finds here have been the campus of Trinity College, the Pub near us in continuous service from 998, Glasnevin graveyard (a graveyard containing many dead including over 1 million plague victims, the museum is modern and disneyesque - to be skipped) and Chester Beatty Library next to Dublin Castle. The Beatty library is easily one of the best overviews for understanding the worlds major religions that we have come across in nine months.

Both of us felt that if our round-the-world adventure through lands of Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, Christianity, Hinduism, Dadaism, Maoism, Jainism, Confucianism and more had been informed early on the trip by this museum it would have been a lot easier to feel that we had some fundamental understanding both of the culture and the morays. Dadaism and Maoism I added. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention. In the graveyard there are much more simplistic examples of the world's religions including Scientology and humanism but I find Dadaism and Maoism just as poignant.

We entered Dublin knowing it's rated by travelers as Europe's most expensive city. Having passed through Monaco, Nice, Venice this seemed really scary. It's as expensive as you make it.

Enjoy Dublin, it is almost free.

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Arctic Perspective: Canada House, London

Outside of the British Museum on bustling Trafalgar Square sits on innocuous, slightly smaller building called Canada House. Sitting there on the square, the first thing that draws a visitor's eye to the building are the Canadian flags flying on the rooftop. A sane person visiting any of the more popular destinations lining this historic square, in particular the Brit's museum and it's lovey Portrait Gallery or the corner behind it, will want a bit of respite. As travel bloggers, it is incumbent for us to tell you about the very special Canada House.
Our first trip to the British Museum, we were already tired. We walked in and walked out. Getting into the door was just too crowded. We had been two hours walking, but we loved the activity happening on the square outside. We sat there wondering what this exhibit and building were that was advertising "Arctic Perspective."

Arctic Perspective was a wonderful blend of indigenous Inuit artists, sculptures, printmaking, painters, and blends that with scientific research and engineering related to the future of Arctic Exploration. Its more important focus was that it highlighted the ecological, cultural, and geopolitical importance of the Arctic in the context of its indigenous cultures. It is a living project. It has an auspicious goal. It is something which can be documented and followed beyond its short tenure at this small London government institution of Canada. It aims to promote and sustain that which it exhibits and displays. Arctic Perspective is working in collaboration with the people pf Igloolik, Kinngait, Iqaluit, Mittmatalik, and Kanngigtugaapik in Nunavut, Canada and with other arctic communities, artists, architects on devising 'mobile media' and 'living units and infrastructure' portable buildings which can be used across the arctic for creative media production while being powered by renewable resources. It is a big project. It has teachable standards. The project will go on indefinitely as the Arts Catalyst seeks to provide a nurturing and sustainable home for part of Canada's national identity.


Canada House, Trafalgar Square, London
Canada House and other reasons to find places of respite and refuge in cities

When I first got my travel bug as a young adult I tried to find the end of the road and found several of them wound up in Alaska. To get there, we drove through Canada and learned about the ruggedness of the Arctic. It has always remained an important memory for me. Today we were two or three hours walking inside the big museum across the street from little Canada House. So, when our search for floor '0' ended in a wing with no connections to Michael Angelo, we exited back onto the street and popped out in front of the waving maple leaves and welcoming exposition signs.

There are other reasons to visit Canada House, it is a wonderful nicely decorated period building, you can get lots of information, you can arrange Visas; but, our favorite attribute which I am trying to embed deep enough within this blog not to overrun them with cheapskate backpackers - is that they have a lobby with really great computers which can be used to check internet and even print documents f_ee!!).

Scattered throughout downtown London and in its surrounds there are many such places of respite. We have passed Zimbabwe and Korea's welcoming centers and not gone in them. But, my guess, is like most of the cultural attractions and visitor centers around the world, not only will they have great inviting literature, but often they will have some exhibit or special introduction to their country.

London is of course filled with so many examples of where one turn down and underused alley or behind an ivy gate can bring you to lovely points of solace. All along the Thames are underutilized but much appreciated and cared for gardens where you are more likely to see street repairman having lunch or business types having a smoke, than see any roving bands of tourist groups or the like. Deacon's Square tucked behind the Westminster Abbey is the perfect place to quietly reflect on what the town might have sounded and acted like one or two hundred years previously.

Everywhere we go we continue to discover places which we want to share. Remembering to blog about them in time is hard for us. So we will have to come back soon, bog from the Americas and continue to refine our ever expanding interests in both going local and finding the hidden gems which are placed all around us.

Stay tuned, we cross England next to Scotland and then taste the Isle of Ireland before we fly across that big Atlantic pond back to our homelands.

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A Grafitti Park grows in Stockwell

Neither Stockwell nor Brixton have historically been viewed by mainstream observers as the fountains of aesthetics.

You do not learn about Brixton at the Academy. however, those of us interested in contemporary art or modern urban history are likely to find ourselves in stranger places. London, to world travelers, may seem tame in its roughest edges. Art, however, is not tame here. Projects are being developed. One which grabbed my eye way the Signal Project.

While Stockwell and Brixton have always been contemporary and artistic in the heaps on aesthetics they shed upon the modern cosmopolitan mind of London, I am not a scholar of English urban history. What I do is blog, blogging, and walking or some combination in between. And when I have time to pause, I pick up the local free papers, the local art papers, or a wifi/internet signal and research what I can turn up.

This blog turned up from the Thursday edition of the Evening Standard on graffiti gardening.

It is a terrific story (which you can link to above). Public art, 'spray can art' or outsider neo-art is what some of us think of as a new revolutionary spirit. It is embraced, disgraceful, misunderstood. It is highly debatable. It is a challenge to get a hold on whether you have read Banksy or prefer to simpy accept mottos. Solo's motto is often painted on the walls of the ball courts of stockwell and Brixton, "Say Something Beautiful or Be Quiet." I have said something similar in my revious blogs on the subject. Graffit can be damaging and offensive without purpose, or without even meaning to not have purpose. It can be venally vain.

It can also be a powerful movement for uplifting rises of power in marginalized communities. It sometimes can say what we have thought but not heard. It can replace and undermine the worlds of consumerism, advertising, and corporations. It is powerful. It cannot be turned off.

Like the arts and sciences this public art incorporates, is incorporated, shares and crosses boundaries with what it means to be human, social, cultural, individual. It can be as simple as the biases we already have, graffiti belongs with rap, breakdance, basketball, being black. It can be as ritzy and accepted by art forums as Banksy's wonderful book Wall and Piece.

London is not so shallow. It is multi-cultural (probably the multicultural capital of Europe).

Solo-one, the hero of our insider article, sees graffiti as feeding young people with positive ideas. "You have to have the heart to do it..." he says, tagging as opposed to art can, bring neighborhoods to the brink of "descending into madness." Art and the ability to pursue the skills of being an artist and perfecting the artistic craft is an agreed upon ethic that crosses generations of street artists whether they are well known or invisible. "If it is good, the walls are better off plain." Solo-One says, "Sacrifice is important. If a piece has only taken 20 minutes I know the artist's heart wasn't in it."

What is the difference really between the honing of artistic craft today and the construction of great murals, mosaics, and other public art pieces of the past?

In today's London, some of the best, most loved contemporary art can be found in the outdoors. Galleries are tucked between forgotten streets and along abandoned industry and rail yards. There are galleries tucked into the vacant spaces (read: parks) in Stockwell Park Estates. This is the domain of Solo-One and his kindred spirits. "This is a safe-place for kids to learn how to paint," he says, and to understand the commitment it takes to be a good writer."

Today we are off to the Meeting of Styles, it is an important part of our trip to London. We will try and guide ourselves to finding a Banksy tour beginning Waterloo underneath the railway arches... that is all we have right now to work with. Art it seems is never far nor hard to find.

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Blackberries and Bicycles

We have traveling by way of so many different modes during this journey around the world: plane, train, tram, bus, funicular, ferry, big rig, rickshaw, tuk-tuk, bicycle, and of course, our own weary feet. But after a rather extravagant week spent in Bretagne, France, we can add rental car to the list. 

Oh, I had forgotten the delights of independence you can find when behind the wheel of your very own car. The power to choose winding scenic roads instead of highways, the joy of a quick u-turn to more closely examine that old, ivy-covered stone chateau, the happiness felt in propping bare feet up on the dash in the bright sunlight streaming through the window, and the luxury of pulling over to stretch/explore/pick roadside blackberries whenever the need arises.

We looked for hitchhikers to pick up.

none.

We navigated a drive from Moncontour to Paris without a road map.

not entirely true. we had a tourist map of bretagne. when we left moncontour after we arrived in normandy we stopped at a supermarket and took photos of the sections of road map we might need. I squinted at these to determine our path.

We talked about places we've been and things we've seen and people we remember.

in bretagne we saw family for the first time in seven months; this sparked lots of conversation the multitude of dear family and friends that we wonder about and look forward to seeing.

I skimmed through radio stations.

the soothing babble of french talk radio was a favorite, followed by "nostalgia" with both french and american classics.

We didn't pay a single toll.

although the drive was eight hours longer, the distance and gas usage was the same. we never took the toll roads and enjoyed the slow country lanes instead, found much cheaper gas further from the interstate, and saw a huge chunk of France.

After visiting the Chartres Cathedral we car camped.

turning down a bumpy, dirt road in the pitch dark left us slightly unsure of exactly where we were. but the stars were bright and the night quiet. we awoke to find ourselves alongside a cornfield, mist rising from the earth in the pre-sunrise glow of dawn.

I was a pretty good navigator and N drove.

that being said, my tiny keychain compass proved to be faulty, I started feeling carsick from trying to read the map from a miniscule digital camera screen, and we both were hyperventilating as we navigated Paris with a photo-copied, blurry map and minutes ticking down for our British Airways flight. we returned the car at terminal 2F and our flight was at 2A. they are not very close together.  I was fibbing my way through an elaborate story about my invisible husband as the flight was being closed...N showed up just as the eyebrows of the ticket agent were about to pop off of her head.

In recent months I have become a huge proponent of public transportation, but I'd sorta forgotten why personal cars are so great. The independence. The power to "choose your own adventure." It is so easy to slip back into the mindset of regarding personal cars as the main (and most viable) mode of transportation. And of course, sometimes they are. My mother couldn't exactly find public transportation to Eugene (40 miles) four days a week. The New Orleans public transportation system includes lovely street cars that oftentimes take longer than walking, and public buses that don't seem to run on an actual schedule, they just rumble by when the mood strikes.

When in a land of functional, efficient, effective public transportation options, it is much easier (and oftentimes much more affordable) to use public systems. We love the bike sharing systems of Paris, London, China, and many other international cities. In fact, it seems that most urban cities of the Western world have bike-share/rent programs. Africa, Thailand, India, and Turkey were without a formalized system, but most likely have informal, community-driven programs that are not discernible to the foreign eye. 

So while we are here, still in the land of viable transportation options, we are off to use them! Though the hazy dream of that cushy Citroen rental car still lingers at the back of my mind, it's time for some sensible shoes and some London tube action!

*****

p.s. we are still sans-computer. no help has arrived. but we are SO grateful to David for the use of his computer while we are in london. be assured that our blog will be patchy until we return to our other laptop in the states (new york in twelve days).

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