Time to Read

Hello everyone,

If you’re like many people I know, you’re going to have a lot of time on your hands over the next few weeks, perhaps months.

As my inbox flooded with emails from CEOs across the country telling me what they were doing to help me through this time, I started to feel like a bit of a laggard. I mean, here are all these folks running multimillion/billion dollar companies (boring!) with all this great info about how they will continue to stock toilet paper for when we need it most, how drive-thrus will be operational, and how I will somehow still be insured after all this is behind us. Important stuff to be sure, but what was I doing? How was I going to fill the unimportant void in your life when you aren’t making use of the drive-thru or the 200 hundred rolls toilet paper? 

What could I possibly offer that isn’t covered by these two industries? In times like these, what could anyone possibly want besides food and toilet paper?

And then it hit me.

Now, if you’re thinking, “Holey Moley, Rey’s gonna give me some free art!” you can just hold your horses right there. The kind of art I do takes a lot of time, and I’m not about to just start handing away these tiny chunks of my soul for nothing. But on the other hand, what about writing? I mean, honestly, anyone can be an author these days. That’s why I became one! You can practically write in your sleep, while your driving to work, or while you’re travelling (if you didn’t catch the typo in that sentence, put the kibosh on you becoming a writer any time soon).

So, that big idea. What could I possibly have that might be interesting to you in times like these? Where we are stuck at home for weeks on end with enough toilet paper to last three pandemics? With thoughts of travelling to interesting places completely banished from our hopes and dreams?

Aha.

To that end, I’ve made my first book, Today I Ate Cow Stomach, available online for free for anyone who wishes to click the link below. DO NOT WORRY! This is not some link to a page that will ask you to pay for my other two books, whereupon you will get my first book free….although, that’s probably not a bad idea, and reason number one as to why I’m not the CEO of my own billion-dollar empire. 

Regardless, click the link below and you will be taken directly to the site hosting my book. You do not have to pass go or have a get-out-of-jail free card (not that that makes any sense) in order to access the book. It is free. Free as in “no money required.” You simply need to have an interest in travel, perhaps a desire to look at glorious, colour-filled pages of exotic destinations only marginally cramped by my mindless bouts of chatter. Actually no, that’s not true. It’s not mindless, but there is a lot of it, but that’s the charm of being me. An opinion on everything that isn’t about fast food or toilet paper.

If you have a friend or relative or neighbour who is interested in travel, feel free to pass this link on to them. I just know they will thank you for it because you are a good person.

For those of you who don’t know, Today I Ate Cow Stomach is about my family’s travels through Italy, Greece, Turkey, Syria, Jordan, and Egypt, the first 137 days of our 275-day trip around the world a number of years ago. Loads of stories, hundreds and hundreds of photos of beautiful places, and some artwork as well. So I guess in a way there is free art involved!

Please know that I am not in any way making light of the situation we now find ourselves in. This is serious business, and likely the only way we’ll get through this is if those of us who are deemed “not essential” hunker down at home for a long period of time. In order to make at least some of those weeks go by a little quicker (it’s a long book) and more enjoyably, I thought I’d offer up Today I Ate Cow Stomach.

Stay well in these interesting times, and enjoy the read.

Again, pass this on to anyone who may be interested.

https://indd.adobe.com/view/5c504087-a835-4768-9e54-78e72dd7c066

Rey

275days.com

The Thrill of Exploration

When planning the Turkey chapter of our 'big trip,' I came across a photograph of the theatre at Termessos. It wasn't really near the places we wanted to see in Turkey, so I set to work finding new things to see on a path that would get us reasonably close.
The hub for our Termessos trek turned out to be the city of Antalya, right on the Mediterranean Sea coast. It's a fine city with a fabulous (if outdated) museum, good restaurants, and the friendly Sabah Pansiyon. Also worth seeing if you're around Antalya is Chimaera, home to a hill with a few dozen fires poking their way out of the ground.
But Termessos was our focus at this point. The Sabah rented cars so that was easy enough, and the route up to Güllük Dagi National Park also pretty straight forward.
"The drive north of Antalya is simple and beautiful. We’re driving in Turkey. And I’m not sure what we’ve done to deserve yet another sky that is so blue it seems to sparkle. Not far out of town, we begin to make the upward climb into those remarkable hills, where the drive becomes very dramatic, and not just because the road crumbles away from the edge and spills down the hillside. Not the ground beside the road, but the concrete that was once a part of the road. A never-ending stream of mostly-intact hairpin turns takes us in a continuously vertical direction, into Gulluk Dagi National Park, and past the set of outer walls belonging to the ancient city of Termessos." (From an earlier post describing our day at Termessos, http://artypeg.blogspot.com/2016/08/breathless-at-termessos-turkey.html. Check it out for many more photos.)
There are many places around the world where the atmosphere just begs you to stop, settle yourself, and listen to the centuries of history that have passed since Alexander passed through, places that, with more than a little sense of quiet urgency, invite you to ponder what once was, and how it ever came to end.
I didn't plan on taking this panorama photo. In fact, I had to sift through a couple hundred pictures to find the four or five that would make up this final one, that would come to fully represent our day in that ancient city, and one of a few that would encapsulate the thrill of exploration, and the wonder of this entire trip.
I could go on and on; in fact, I just erased several sentences of superlatives so that you could spend more of your time just looking at this picture.
Turkey's time in the travel spotlight has been up and down over the past decade, and it seems as though it's experiencing a bit of an upswing again. If you plan on going, do not miss this place. Get there early, and you will likely have the city to yourself.

The Wonder of Travel

I don't know how much Gokarna, India has changed in the last twelve years, but back in 2008 it was wonderful, everything one could have asked for. From the landscape to the people to the beaches to the restaurants, it was all literally full of wonder.

We walked these headland paths between Kudle Beach and Gokarna Beach every day for two full weeks, twice a day - in the late morning sun after managing to extricate ourselves from the comfortable rooftop terrace and perfect breakfasts at Mahalakshmi Restaurant, and again hours later heading back home, as the sun began to sink into the far edge of the Arabian Sea. More often than not, we’d clean ourselves up in our room, then walk back to the centre of town for dinner at the Pai Restaurant. A truly enjoyable thing about staying in one place for an extended period of time is getting to know where you are, getting to know its people, and of course, becoming more and more acquainted with its food. Both the Pai and Mahalakshmi served exceptional dishes, and each day it seemed, we were greeted a little more warmly, a note of recognition in the eyes and smiles of the people there. Mahalakshmi’s owner was usually the one to greet us inside the front door, and I remember that first day how he guided us through his building, out the back door, and up a set of stairs to the rooftop. I was skeptical at first as to what we could possibly find out here after what we witnessed on the inside, but this view…and the food. After that day, he merely waved us on through, allowing us to find our own way up stairs, and he would follow along with the menu minutes later.

After about a week of walking the seaside path to Kudle Beach, we somehow discovered a tiny bakery hidden in the bushes, up the hill, out of sight. Cinnamon buns were added to the daily routine.

Part of the fun of travelling for long periods is meeting other travellers on more than one occasion. On an overnight trek to sleep under the stars in Jordan’s Wadi Rum, we met a British couple, Allan and Maggie. They had been to India numerous times, and as we talked of our future plans, they had some recommendations for us. “If you want to see Goa like it was twenty years ago, go to Gokarna. You won’t regret it.” A full month later, we bumped into Allan and Maggie four thousand kilometres away on Kudle Beach and spent a couple days hanging out together. 

This photograph conjures all of that and more. The endless sunshine. The warm salty water. Beautiful coastline. Green as far as the eye could see. Gokarna itself, but also the possibilities that travel represents. The opening up to new experiences. Discovering these amazing places that we’d never heard about before. Seeing life played out in a way so different from our own back home.

I think we would say that Gokarna was one of our favourite places in all the world.

After our last breakfast at Mahalakshmi, we told the owner that we would be leaving early the next day. After a few words to us, he leaned forward and looked into our kids’ eyes. “We’ll see you again someday.”

What are some of your favourite places?

The State of the World

I've been thinking for some time now that I need to revisit my favourite travel photos and talk about what makes these images powerful. Sometimes it's just a reminder of what travel means to me, others are a moment in time that is irreplaceable. It's a long list of things that can make a photo stand apart in my memory, so considering the state of the world today, not just the travel industry, I figure now is the perfect time to reflect on the wonder of exploring our planet.

Let's start at the beginning. Anticipating a trip can be almost as much fun as the trip itself. When you are in the planning stages - narrowing down where to go, looking for places to stay, things to do - the energy created is a magical thing. Opportunities are seemingly endless, and the skies are always, always sunny in these times, as no one imagines themselves on a rainy beach or taking cover in a hilltop town to escape hurricane winds. No, these imaginings are filled with brilliant skies and pleasant temperatures, error-free days and maximized potential.
Thanks to a price war involving some European airlines in the fall of 2016, we got an unbelievable price* for a two-stop jaunt to Madrid in spring 2017. Five minutes before we left for the airport, I found an email from KLM informing me that one of our KLM flights was cancelled. We were free to rebook another flight, but in the meantime, they would looking into finding us an alternative. One minute later, KLM emailed to say that they had managed to rebook us on an Air Canada flight from Montreal to Heathrow, followed (very closely (full-sprint close, as I recall)) by an Iberian Air flight to Madrid. We would arrive half an hour later than originally planned. Crisis averted.
As dawn broke the following morning, not long before landing at Heathrow, the sky blossomed into the colour of dreams and opportunity, the pinks and blues and oranges intensifying until I relented and got out the camera.
This image epitomizes that feeling of anticipation, where everything is perfect, everything how you want it to be. You know it's going to be a good day.

What is it that makes one of your travel photos stand out from the rest?

Here's a bit more from Spain:
http://artypeg.blogspot.com/2017/07/a-little-bit-of-seville.html
http://artypeg.blogspot.com/2017/12/the-spanish-window.html
And a little more detail about that KLM incident:
http://artypeg.blogspot.com/2017/07/why-is-hate-so-popular-airline-edition.html

*That unbelievable price has forever clouded my judgement when it comes to the real cost of inter-continental travel, but no mind, this is a happy post!

Designers Designing Designs for Businesses Looking for Cheap Business

Let me know if you think this adds up.

You need a logo for your business. You find a place to do it cheaply, and here's what they will do for you.
First, you fill out a "creative brief" to inform them about your business. Their project managers will "contact you by phone...get additional details and review ideas."
They will put together some ideas, and several of their designers will, from the info gathered so far, each design a logo in their own personal style. The manager will review all the logos to make sure the proposed concepts all communicate the ideas you've outlined in your brief, and then you get to check them all out, choosing the one you like best. If you want, you can choose elements from all of them and request to have those incorporated into an even more awesome logo. You can do this as many times as you like until you are completely, 100% satisfied.
If you don't like the look of those initial designs at all, they will have a new set of designers create a new set for you to look at.
When all is said and done, you get a logo that is, well, it's something.
All for the low cost of $149.
This is a direct quote from the website:
"Because we take the time to get to know you and your business, our designers understand your needs and translate that into a distinctive logo design that uniquely reflects your business identity."

Let's review.
Say that they have five graphic designers work up designs for you. They also have an administrative team that you deal with when filling out the forms and connecting with the business. There is a project manager who reviews everything and connects with you as often as it takes to get things right.
They all need to read the brief or at least be briefed about the brief, so they have a sense of what they are trying to communicate. They need to formulate some ideas, do some research, and actually create a design. A manager has to review everything and okay everything, connect with you, and ensure that you are happy. If everything goes perfectly, then they have to do it up so that they can give you all the necessary files for you to use this in all your communication. They need a support team to store all this info, back up all this info, and disseminate all this stuff to you. They need to bill you, and they need to collect, and they need to pay employees. You know, the manager, the designers, the front end staff and the back end staff. They need to do a bit of advertising, and since they are doing all this through the Costco website, they probably pay some kind of fee to Costco. They likely have someone who cleans their offices and do their books too.

How many hours might all this take?

Let's assume they are billing at $50 an hour to cover everyone's time: designers, managers, overhead, reception, computers, software, network, cleaners, etc etc. That has to be the bare minimum they can do it at if there is a team of people. So what does this mean? It means you get three hours of their time.

Total.

They are going to get to know you and your business, give you several iterations of a logo that suits your business. They are going to keep doing it until they get it right. 100% satisfaction.

So those designers and managers (six people? Seven?) are each going to have about a half hour to forty-five minutes to get to know you, understand your business, and produce a distinctive logo that uniquely reflects your business.
A logo is the face of a business to the outside world, the first point of contact with a new customer. I think it's probably worth more than forty-five minutes of someone else's time.

UPDATE: After a conversation last night, we were thinking that this may be one of those things where the designers are freelancers who are only paid if their design is chosen. Oh, what a relief. So now someone might actually be spending an hour or an hour and fifteen minutes on your design. And how much might they get paid for this? Fifty bucks? But what about all the times their design doesn't get chosen? Isn't this a bit like a casino, except, for actual wages?

The Art Crawl

On November 30th and December 1st, South Osborne neighbourhood artists will host another Art Crawl, a tradition that began in December of 2012.
An Art Crawl is a self-guided tour, in our case to ten different artist's studios. You choose when and where to start, and you decide how much stamina you have for exploring.  It's a fun event that allows you to browse a variety of styles of art, from painting and drawing to ceramics and printmaking and  a whole lot more.
My studio hosts an opportunity to explore the world through art, photography, and stories. There are abstract and representational pieces, oil, watercolour, and acrylic paintings, ink drawings, pencil drawings, photographs, prints, greeting cards, and travel books, probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. All the art is for sale of course, but first and foremost, this is a relaxed environment in which to view and talk about art without any high-pressure sales tactics. I am an artist who likes to talk about art and travel, so if you like to talk about art and/or travel, this is the place to be.
If you are just getting started in the world of art, start here.
If you are an avid collector of art, there will definitely be work to catch your eye.
And if you just love art, I can almost guarantee there will be something to capture your heart.
Want to read about travel? We have comfy couches designed for that very purpose.
And if you do find something you want to take home, we'll take your money. Or your VISA.
We'll have a screen showing a collection of videos from around the world and the process of creating some of my large drawings; another displaying loads of magical images from Europe, the Middle East, Africa, India, and Southeast Asia. If that weren't enough, we'll also have some hot apple cider too.
Come with us for a walk around the world, November 30th and December 1st.
479 Beresford Avenue.

Celebrate - watercolour

Walking in Burano and walking in Alleppey -photograph, watercolour

Walking in Asilah, Morocco

Walking in Cambodia

Walking in Greece

Walking in Jordan

Walking in Fes, Morocco

Walking in Syria

Walking in Toledo, Spain

Walking in Turkey

Walking in Chefchaouen, Morocco

Walking in Venice

Walking in Vietnam

Venice

Some city names have a certain allure that makes your skin tingle a little bit, depending on your sensibilities. Paris. Rome. Istanbul. Damascus. Mumbai. They all bring to mind a certain feeling.
Venice is yet another of those cities with connotations all its own. Is it really that crowded? Is it really that beautiful? Is it really worth going?
Well, when it's March, and you are lucky enough that the sun shines every day, and the temperatures are warm, the answer to all of these questions is all that you could hope for.
Venice in March is by no means devoid of tourists, but outside of St. Mark's Square, you'll find plenty of lanes that aren't filled with camera-toting day-trippers. Some people find Venice to be far too touristy for their liking, but I wonder how many who hold that opinion only visit for the day, or only visit the main sites of the city?
We arrived in Venice at noon on a Sunday near the end of March, welcomed by a perfectly clear blue sunny sky and a temperature of 20˚C. The boat trip from the airport in the Alilaguna boat with windows covered with salt splashes was uneventful, but pleasant enough once we got into the city's canals.

Giacomo met us at the Sant'Angelo vaporetto stop, and walked us to our apartment in the heart of the San Marco area. He explained the workings of the apartment, then looked at the top of my brow and warned me to be careful in the very low-ceilinged bathrooms (yes, plural!). Off he went, and we unpacked a bit, headed to our balcony to look over the city, then raced over to the Simply Punto to get some groceries for the week. Alas, this market is closed early on Sundays, so we carried on a little further to the Coop, conveniently located right along the busy and somewhat frenetic Grand Canal. Yogurt, milk, a bit of fruit and some veggies (use the little plastic gloves and be sure to weigh everything), and then back to our apartment before venturing out again into this sunny jewel.

Over the Accademia Bridge for the view that I simply could not wait for, and then some strawberry gelati, and a walk along the Zattere to the point, and back to the Basilica di Santa Maria della Salute for a little sit-down. Before jet lag fully took hold on the streets, we headed back to the apartment and went straight to sleep.
With a full week in Venice before us, we were in no hurry to do everything all at once, but we might as well start with some of the big ones - the Doge's Palace and assorted St. Mark's museums. The palace is pretty much everything you might expect, with sensational gold ceilings and paintings and frescoes everywhere.

At the nearby Correr Museum, I was transfixed by the display on the history of book printing and Venice's place as a distribution point for those first printed books.
I read the train ticket incorrectly, leading us to miss our early Tuesday morning train to Padua, but fortunately there are many, and our ticket was valid for four hours. With a little bit of running, we managed to get to the church we planned to visit, the church that required a ticket purchased online ahead of time, the ticket that requires you to be there at a certain time and that time only. Otherwise you'll be turned away. You've been warned.

Padua is a pretty university town full of students, but for us it was the calzone at what I think was Pizza del Cubo in Piazza dei Signori that we will remember. Well, that and the church was cool too. As was the anatomy hall. And the other church.

Padua piazza

The church that you buy tickets for online that you must be on time for. Or else.

On our return in Venice, we walked through Cannaregio and took the long way home.
Wednesday we meandered through Dorsuduro, Santa Croce, and San Polo. One important note: if you are ever in Venice, you must stop in at the Church of San Pantalon. Look up, and your trip has paid for itself.
Thursday was the first of our two vaporetto days, as we sailed over to the Church of St. Giorgio Maggiore, climbing the tower (well, taking the elevator) for what can only be described as a splendid view of the city of Venice, followed by an extended walk through Castello, almost right to the eastern-most point. More church visits, and then we got turned away at the Arsenale. We thought it was a place to go in, but the security guard thought otherwise.

The view from St. Giorgio Maggiore's bell tower

All the literature on Venice says that if you have a few days, you must must must go to Torcello, get away from the crowds and see the island where Venice truly began. A once heavily populated island, Torcello is mostly known today as the home of the Basilica di Santa Maria Assunta, a 7th century church with a few large mosaics. Well, it is nice, and we love seeing churches, but in my opinion, if you've never been to Venice before and are only here for a few days, I would say you could better spend your time exploring some of the many incredible churches in Venice (of which we went into more than twenty) without having to spend two hours on a vaporetto (one hour there, one hour back). Again, San Pantalon was far more awesome than Torcello. History buffs may scoff, but I'm into art and painting, and that ceiling is The Ceiling of All Ceilings. I didn't read anyone anywhere saying that you should see this church. But I am telling you, if you are in Venice only for the day, go to this church. Please google it. San Polo and Santa Croce were also probably our favourite areas of the city (although San Pantalon is actually in the very northern part of Dorsuduro, also quite charming), so it's worth heading over there.
On the way to Torcello, we stopped off at Burano, a lovely small island full of colour. It was a real delight walking around there in the early morning hours with only a handful of others to annoy us.

We stopped in again after Torcello, and I was taken aback at how different the place looked when it was covered with tourists - people in tragically unsuitable attire grabbing at knick knacks on shelves in the street in front of shops and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Ten minutes was all I could handle, then it was back on the vaporetto headed for Venice. It is a nice trip, of that there is no doubt (especially when the warm sun is shining down on you), being on the back of the boat in the open with a view across the lagoon.
I got up early on Saturday to photograph the city at its quietest, and then we set to work seeing the last of the stuff on our to-do list - Accademia Gallery, more churches, a bit more gelati, and Ca'Rezzonico - a palace included in our St. Mark's Museums pass.
First, I should say something about the Accademia, and that is: Don't go. Maybe it'll be a lot different when they are done their renovations, but man, half the place is closed off. Literally half. And then you have to ask, surely we're missing something? Seriously, I have to know that you walk past the sign for the bathrooms to find stairs to the lower floor? C'mon man. There is no way they should be charging full price for what they have on show right now. It really is a disappointment. Granted, they did tell us after we paid that they were doing renovations, but I think a better call would be to say, "Half of our museum is closed. Do you still want to pay twenty bucks to get in here...?" with a voice that trails off so that you know it's probably not worth it.
Second, I would like to say that you really should see Ca'Rezzonica. It's a remarkable place full of some really wonderful art, as well as windows with great views along the Grand Canal.

At some point over the last few days we stopped in at St. Mark's Basilica. We went in the late afternoon, only a few people in line. But...I'm not really fond of sites that have you walk single file through a fenced off area without really any opportunity to explore the place a little more fully. On the bright side, we paid the extra bucks (extra more than zero as it's free entry to the church itself) to get upstairs to see the museum. With that you have the chance to see the church from the second level, which is pretty cool, and can also head out on to the balcony for a great view over the square and piazza to the water.

We awoke early again on Sunday for one last walk in pleasant and crowd-free Venice, and then wandered slowly through Santa Croce and over to the train station. Exactly seven days in Venice and short of an evening shower on Monday, it's been blue skies and warm weather the entire time.
What a beautiful city.

Eleven Years Ago Today

Eleven years ago today, Saturday December 29th, 2007, we were "stranded" in the coastal town of Gokarna, India, on the Arabian Sea. We were five months into our incredible journey, and this is what I wrote in the blog on that day.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2007

Reflection

It was five months ago today that we left home, and thinking about being home is a strange thing. There are no salty beaches there, no ruins. No temples and no sites. There are no cows wandering the streets and no children working in the stores calling out your name. There are no beggars waiting for you outside of restaurants and churches, waiting so that they can show you their affliction or deformity in the hopes that you will take pity on them and give them money. There are no two-thousand-year-old buildings or two-thousand-year-old carvings as large as a city block. There are almost forty times as many people living in Cairo, and more people on the street in front of the Luna Hotel than in all of Winnipeg. There are no pharaohs and no kings, no elephants and no tigers. There are no thirty-degree days in December.*

The extraordinary continues to be revealed to us relentlessly, and there are days here when it seems impossible that any of this is happening, impossible that one day we will be back at home, going back to school and work, back to grocery shopping and meal preparation, summer and winter, friends and family. I wonder if we will be able to grasp the extraordinary in everything we do and see and have.

What a time it was.

Date Minder

Welcome to my latest invention, the Date Minder.
It's a chronological list of the months of the year, including all the days of each month also in chronological order. If that wasn't enough, each of those days is sitting in a little box with enough room to add some important information about that day. Date Minder!
Each month includes a full-colour photo of a fascinating place in our incredible world. But don't let those gorgeous photos overtake the majesty of the Date Minder, an ingenious invention for anyone who has to remember important dates.
Birthdays? Anniversary? Garbage Day?
Date Minder has you covered.
Call today!
2019 Date Minder.
I know it says "calendar" on the cover. No mind. Date Minder. 2019, January to December in the correct order. Nothing like it out there, says Breitbart Shrews.
For order info, head to my website and click the "Contact" button.
Or skip all that and just email me directly! rey @ my web address.
Then tell me you can't survive 2019 without the Date Minder!
Twenty-five bucks solves all your date-related* problems.

8.5 by 11" coil bound, Date Minder opens to 17 by 11", photo on top half, dates on bottom.
Images are full bleed.

*is that ambiguous? In this case, 'date-related' refers to things you might put on your calendar. In case of any discrepancy or confusion (on my part or yours), this guarantee is null and void. That is a guarantee.

You Win Some, You Lose Some

Excerpted from A Change of View:

From Patras, we followed our instructions to the letter, along the rugged north coast of the Peloponnese, down through Nafplio, into Astros, and ended up down a back lane. We asked some older gentlemen sitting in front of an unsigned restaurant a little ways back if they had any idea where Angelica’s apartment might be. It’s across the street from a little church? “Ah, go to the blue sign and then straight...” Got it, straight past the blue sign...”No, no, go to the blue sign, straight and continue to a crossing, keep going you will find it.” Okay, past the blue sign, to a...”No, no, here, I will come with you.” Uh, it’s a little crowded in here. “Oh, no room. Okay, you must listen. Go to the blue sign, then this way a little bit,” he motions with his entire body. Hey man, that’s not straight! “Continue to a crossing, go straight,” I raised my eyebrows but he carried on, “and you will come to the church.”

We have come to the conclusion, in our extensive European research, that “going straight” means to follow the main road, even if the main road turns at a ninety degree angle, dwindles to a goat path, or merges with a forest.

This same man told us that he was open for breakfast in the morning, and we should drop in. What time do you open? “Seven a.m.” We’ll see you at nine.

There was no address number on the building that looked like it could have been an apartment across the street from the church that was reached by going down the straight road through Astros. Honestly, during our downtimes, I sometimes step back from all this and just marvel at our good fortune.

As I got out of the car, Jonas said, Good luck, Papa. The cleaning lady was supposed to meet us, but there was no one around. I walked up the stairs (“Sea view,” the ad said, so I assumed upstairs) to the open door at the top. Hello? I called loudly. A woman walked into view and smiled that, ‘I’ve been expecting you’ smile. She explained, entirely in Greek, how things worked, and I responded in English. We didn’t really understand a word the other was saying, but with the context and body language, we managed just fine. Then she furrowed her brow, and asked, “Family?” Downstairs, in the car, I pointed. She almost jumped, and said, “Go!” pushing me out the door with two hands, alarmed that I’d make them wait outside. 

She smiled brightly at Jonas and Matthew, shaking their hands, and patting their shoulders, then breaking into full-blown hugs. Then she showed us all around the apartment with renewed enthusiasm. A nice kitchen, large living room, three bedrooms, and five (seriously, 5) sets of patio doors, three of which led to the forty-foot long balcony facing the (albeit distant) sea-view, and the cute little church cross the street. Finished with her explanations, Tasia bid us farewell. All these people that are so kind and helpful, that we will never see again in our lives.

We drove to the supermarket and picked up several bags of groceries, and when we returned to put stuff away, we made a significant discovery in one of the cupboards. A jar of peanut butter. We hadn’t had peanut butter since home, it being a bit of an expensive delicacy here. And we pretty much OD’d on Nutella in Italy, so this was thrilling.

We are in Greece, a kilometre or two from the beach, and we’re excited about peanut butter.

Breakfast at Angelo’s was one of those moments worth writing home about (so if you’ve stuck with me this long, here’s the payoff). He sat us at a table in the middle of the empty restaurant, wiping his hands on his apron as he asked us what we’d like to drink. The boys asked for orange juice and lemonade, and Angelo returned with orange and lemon soda, then he raced off without another word. Ten minutes later, he walks out of the back room with a huge platter of scrambled eggs covered in a couple kinds of cheese, and sliced ham and tomato on the sides. He brought out plate after plate of toast. Then some plums. Then some more toast. A full plate of watermelon. A large bag of plums. “They are from my friend, you take them.” Then two glasses of his homemade wine.

With each successive course, Matthew said, Ho man, this is going to be expensive! or, Wow, Papa, can we afford this? I had to admit, I was starting to wonder. When I went to pay, I pulled out thirty-five euros (about fifty bucks) just to be sure. I asked Angelo what the damage was. Thirty-nine euros. I hesitated for just a second, the money visible in my hand, and when I went to reach into my pocket for the extra, Angelo waved his hands and said, “No, no, is good.” Well, it was a pretty darn good breakfast, and at least now we know that you drink red wine with breakfast, and not white like we always have.

Arriving at Tenuta San Francesco

After a too-long drive around the Gargano Peninsula (I have no idea why we did that), we pass the scene of a dreadful car accident spread across the highway in the northbound lanes, with ten kilometres of cars lined up behind it. The southbound lane continues at the well-over-the-speed-limit rate of 140 km/hr.

Signs for a Best Western keep popping up, and after several failed attempts at smaller, divier joints, we decide to just give in and try it. Two double rooms, the very classy-looking concierge says, will be one hundred and seventy-eight euros. Ugh, my face says. “How much did you want to pay?” We couldn’t just take one room? “No, too small,” he says. My shoulders slump involuntarily. It’s been a long day. He continues in wonderfully-accented, perfect English, “We do know a nice little bed and breakfast. Would you like me to call over?” He dials the number, rattles off some information, listens, then puts his hand over the phone and says, “You speak Italian?” No. “You will manage,” and he waves at nothing in particular. More speaking and listening. “How does eighty euros sound?” Great. “The man will come and pick you up. Please, we can wait outside.” He opens his palm towards the front door.

It’s not busy, so classy concierge waits with us, and soon our helmeted, muscle-shirted, moped-riding hotelier arrives. I exchange a hearty handshake with the concierge. I can’t help but think that I will never see this man again. His face is the picture of kindness as we walk away.

When we drive out of the city and into the countryside, I begin formulating a back-up plan in case this guy tries to lead us into the woods and relieve us of our packs. I make several jokes about why the guy is carrying an axe on the back of a moped, but Laura assures us that everything will be all right. Okay, but if he tries to take us down some desolate gravel road, we are NOT following. Stop it! says Laura.

About ten minutes into rural Italy - and again, could the sky be any more blue? - just as I suspected, we pull into a beautiful property surrounded by vineyards. He stops in front of what looks like a row of townhomes, then walks us over to the main house, passing by a large pool on the way. A woman comes out of the house and shakes our hands, ruffles Jonas’s hair, and pinches Matthew’s nose in that, “You are adorable!” kind of way. Several members of their family follow us all back to the townhouses. It’s fantastic, way better than a hotel. Mr. Moped, who in no way reminds me of a serial killer, is now our second-best friend in Italy (Rosanna will always be number one). 

We awake early the next morning so that we can pack up, then spend some time in that lovely pool. Do I need to mention how blue the sky is again? It’s a perfect pool and a perfect pool day. I think if I’d know about this place a few days ago, Sulmona would not have appeared on this itinerary.

The entire family comes out to say good-bye, and we exchange some small talk about our trip. The son, probably in his very early twenties, has this faraway look in his eyes as though he’d like to come with us. “What are your jobs?” he asks. Today I understand full well the meaning of his body language and tone of voice. I’ve been so caught up in planning this trip, that I haven’t been able to think about it or see it from the outside. Until this moment, looking into this young man’s eyes. We had tons of questions and feedback at home, but here in rural Italy, what we are doing comes into focus, and for a moment, I feel a little pride about finally being able to step out of that shell of comfort, of marriage/mortgage/kids/work. Laura is a teacher, I’m an artist. He looks befuddled. Yeah, it’s pretty cool. We’re very fortunate, I say.

Looking around as we drive out through the vineyards, all I can think is, Man, if I lived in a place like this, I might never want to leave. But then again, I’m not twenty-one anymore.

The Spanish Window

If there's one thing I can't get enough of, it's architectural detail. Doors, windows, columns, stairs, carved stone, shaped plaster - it goes on and on.
A recent trip to southern Spain simply presented more opportunity to bask in the warmth of more fascinating building styles. Of course, I can find some of this kind of stuff around my own city, but its familiarity provides ample cover and often tired eyes. Travel has a way of awakening one's mind and spirit to the new and old and the always there, and our time in Andalucia (and Toledo and Madrid) was yet more evidence that this is true.

The chronology doesn't really matter, but it will give an idea of how we travel. Since we only had two weeks, this wasn't slow travel, as in the manner of our 275 day trip around the world with our kids, but it was by no means fast either.
We arrived in Madrid, and within a couple hours were on a train to Toledo. Two nights in Toledo and then we whisked off to Seville for a four night stay. On one of those days, we trained to and from Cordoba, because, you know, more architecture. We then rented a car and drove to Arcos de la Frontera for a walkabout and some lunch, then to Zahara de la Frontera for a climb up the hill to the old fort for some dazzling views across the countryside. After a couple hours, we carried on to Ronda, and spent two nights. Back in the car for a pleasant drive to Granada, where we spent three nights under the lights of the Alhambra, then busted it back to Madrid, with a pit stop in Baeza for an extended lunch.
We could've spent one night and a couple days in Seville, and one night in Granada, seeing the Alhambra in the morning and then taking off for somewhere else. That would've given us another five days (!wow!) to see more places. But that's not really us. There is just too much to see and enjoy in almost every place to breeze through without taking some time to just wander aimlessly, sitting at a cafe when your legs call for it, watching the city live and breathe.
In and amongst all this wandering and sitting and breathing, a feeling comes alive inside me, one that asks whether I could live in this place (language barriers aside!). Many times, the answer is yes. I don't know for how long, but for a few months? Certainly. A year? Maybe. I imagine all the places that I would sit with a book, all the new foods I would try, all the streets I'd stalk with my camera, all the alleys in which I would set up an easel.
Here is a celebration of taking it slow, a journey through southern Spain (although many of these are from Madrid...) and all her wondrous, windowed glory.

Want a little bit of Spain to brighten your decor? You can purchase this print in a variety of sizes, featuring forty favourite Spanish windows. Find it on Redbubble.