Places-Foreign & Domestic Archives - Page 3 of 3

Italy in My Mother’s Pen- Middle March 1972

Forty-Seven Years ago, in the middle of March, my Mother began her Italian adventure. I have her travel journal. This, my treasure among her things. I love to travel, I love my Mother, I loved traveling with her. On this trip, she was traveling with a friend and with her twenty-seven year old niece, Linda.

Recently I read the journal, and found seeing my Mother’s pen comforting, the familiar cursive writing. Momma, it is so good to see you there on these pages.

ROME: Friday March 17, 1972: “6:00 AM Up and at’ Em” – Jammed pack day the first full day in Italy, after a good night’s rest….”.breakfast at 7:00” … “bus tour 8:45”…a full itinerary. Tours of the sites of Rome; Vatican City … “Morning at St Peter’s Basilica…the pictures don’t prepare you for the size of it.” ….“the Swiss Guards were something to see.”… “Saw everything on the itinerary!”, “Florence tomorrow”.

Mother didn’t list the full itinerary. What she did write touches to the heart of her. She expresses the things she wanted to remember, the daily happenings in Rome, about the people, about what she found so interesting. The monuments of Rome will always be in the travel guides. These. The moments she wanted to remember.

“Strolling through the buildings seeing the patios and the beautiful flower gardens.” She savors the smell of the blossoms as they open and show their shiny faces to the sun, capturing the image of their colors as they glow. “People hanging out the windows to get some fresh air.”….

“ Laundry hanging out the windows to dry. The sheets drying in the sun are so white” … she wants to remember this and she hears – the flick of the laundry on the clothes line as the wind helps them to dry…”wonder what detergent they use?”.

Later that afternoon, another site seeing tour ends, the bus leaves them just below the Spanish Steps at the Plaza di Spagna. They roam the area admiring the sites, the Plaza and its fountain Fontana della Barcaccia. The Spanish steps and the rise to the Plaza Trinità dei Monti, with its church at the top.

“Linda had her portrait painted by an artist at the Spanish Steps.”. “Might get mine done, if we can find our way back”… “The streets are crammed with cars and they drive like maniacs.”…

“ Funny- I haven’t seen a dent fender.”… “All the cars are small-mostly Fiats. I saw one large car and it had a California license plate.”

They wind their way through the streets, immersed in the city, feeling the breath of the people, the breath of the city, to relish the place. People watching at sidewalk cafes, cappuccinos, “bought charms for my bracelet and a flower for Kaycee”; the flower for her youngest daughter, Kaycee…a glass rose.

A taxi ride back to the hotel. “The taxi driver wants to take Linda out on a date ..says he’ll call her after we get back from Naples”… “Florence tomorrow, at 7 AM”… then Naples, Pompeii, Sorento before we return to Rome.

Momma, Becky and Linda. Buckled Up on the Plane to Rome.

Florida Keys- Slow Ride- A Mile Marker Guide From Key Largo to Key West

Two and a Half hours will get you there. One hundred and fourteen miles, it’s a short drive from Key Largo to Key West, but sometimes you just want to take it slow. Grab your sunscreen and bring a hat, you are going to want the wind in your hair on this trip. With the taste of the salty seas on your lips, the Atlantic Ocean rolls in from the east as the Gulf of Mexico washes the shores on the west. Your journey across the water over the forty-two bridges and causeways will wind you through the Florida Keys. The mile marker count down begins now.
Upper Keys
At MM 107 – Key Largo: Best start, explore the marine life of the Keys at John Pennecamp Coral Reef State Park- this park is mostly underwater so take a ride on the Glass Bottom Boat …see living coral, sponges, shrimp, lobster, crab, turtles and 600 + species of fish.

At MM 81.5 Visit the Hurricane Monument – this monument honors those who died in the Labor Day hurricane of 1935.

At MM 74 – Islamorada: Take a break in Islamorada the Sport Fishing Capital of the world. Even if you are not here to fish you will enjoy the walk around the town- taking in the shops and the art galleries. Feed the tarpons at Robbie’s Marina. Visit the History of Diving Museum.

Middle Keys
At MM 50 – Marathon: Take a picnic break at Marathon- Find your favorite picnic foods and head for Sombrero Beach. There’s plenty of shade with pavilions, grills and restrooms. An Atlantic side designated Turtle Nesting Beach. From April-October the Loggerhead Turtles cross the beaches at night to lay their eggs. Watch for areas closed off to protect these nesting areas.

At MM 47-The Seven Mile Bridge – Rising 65’ above the water with an unobstructed 360* panoramic view of the water is the 6.79-mile bridge connecting the Middle Keys at Marathon to the Lower Keys at Little Duck. The older bridge completed in 1912 is a great place to get out and take a walk.

Lower Keys
At MM 30- Big Pine Key: ‘The Natural Keys’. Visit the National Key Deer Refuge – This refuge is home to the Key Deer; the miniature white-tailed deer found only in the Florida Keys.

At MM 36.8 – Bahia Honda State Park: On the Bahia Honda Keys stop and play on the award-winning beaches. This 500-acre state park is a fun spot for dolphin watching or beachcombing. These beaches offer the best snorkeling and kayaking. Rent your equipment at the park.

MM 0 – Key West: Old Town and seven square miles of fun and funk to explore. Take in Mother Nature’s performance of Sunset at Mallory Square – enjoy the crowd and sip a drink on the square. Next up the Southernmost Point Buoy…. This buoy is located offshore at the corner of South and Whitehead Streets and marks the most southern point of the US. You’re here! This is the end of the line so take a moment to stop, smile and wave at the 24/7/365 live webcam.

Copyright © 2017- Molly Cox
Member International Travel Writers & Photographers Alliance

Vietnam-Sunrise Over Saigon

Monday, Dec. 9: Ho Chi Minh City– Sunrise Over Saigon

5:00 AM, The condensation on the window in the room, a testament to the contrast of the coolness in the room to the warmth outside, is still low on the glass and does not block the view of the river below. The Saigon River flowing south is a ribbon in a rich deep brown.

The streets begin to stir after the nights lull. It is quiet, but the city begins to wake and stretch its weariness away. The traffic on the river begins to move again. This traffic will soon return to its week day pace, but for this moment the city still belongs to the night.

Across the river a cross shines brightly on the church roof. The brightest star remains in the sky, a shining beacon above the cross, high in the black sky.

5:05 The ferries cross the river west to east, east to west and begin to load. People arrive by foot and motorbike to board.

5:10 The first ferry arrives and another departs. Vendors from the east arrive and push their carts off the ferry and into the streets. With each passing minute, the frequency of the horns from the motorbikes and automobiles increase, time passes and the pace continues to swell until it reaches its full momentum.

5:40 The sun has begun to brighten and paints the sky in shades of blues and pinks. The ferries continue their crisscross over the water. The tug boats with their barges move up and down the river. Some push, some pull. The streets will soon be thick with the traffic of motorbikes and other vehicles as they weave an unbelievable tapestry that is complicated and yet the movement remains fluid. Taxis, cars, trucks, motorbikes all vie for their places with their horns honking as each vehicle passes the next. Soon crossing the street on foot will become an adventure and a challenge.

The sun climbs and so does the moisture that creeps up the window. They continue their climb until the sun has filled the river and the streets with its heat. The moisture has risen to the level that blocks the view of the scene below. Though the view is blocked, the sounds announce the vibrant city below. The city shines as bright as the sun that has risen over Saigon.

Copyright © 2017- Molly Cox
Member International Travel Writers & Photographers Alliance

Santa Fe, NM-Baked Apricots

It is late afternoon in early July.
Lightning bolt streaks through the sky, thunder claps.
Large drops of rain blow in from the windows and the doorway.
Hail, larger than a pea, smaller than a marble- smack the windows,
Hail, bounces off the roof and the ground.

The rain slows and then begins again forcefully, but now only the rain falls.
Steam rises off the ground, like grey clouds trying to return to the sky.
Gutters spill over and out, rain turns into waterfalls.
Ripened apricots are shaken and fall freely to the ground.
The rain slows; the once booming thunder now only rumbles.

Fifteen minutes have passed since it began.
Rain ends nearly as abruptly as it started.
The sky brightens and returns to its brilliant blue.
The apricot tree, now drenched, is heavy with wet foliage and wet fruit.
Its limbs lowered, offering its ripened fruit at its feet and in its arms.

To Bake:
16 Fresh Apricots – pitted and halved
1 cup Brown Sugar
1/3 box Club Crackers (about 40 crackers)
Grease the bottom of a small baking pan. (8” x 8”)
Line ½ the apricots in pan. Sprinkle ½ of sugar and ½ of crackers.
Dot top with butter
Repeat layers ending with butter.

Bake uncovered -325* F – about 40 minutes. Serve warm plain or with vanilla ice cream.

Vietnam-Saigon Blue Sky

It had been only forty-eight hours since we left Saigon and we were only a few hours from home when a stranger, looking at both of us still wide-eyed at the wonders we had seen and our eyes reflecting the identical blue color, asked us if we were sisters. If only he had looked closer he could have seen that our eyes were only reflecting the brilliant blue color of the Saigon sky.

Sunday, Dec. 8^th Ho Chi Minh City-(Saigon): Brilliant blue sky. Riding into the city, both foreign and familiar are the first two words that come to mind. Was it the news media that brought the Vietnam war into our homes or was it Hollywood that made us feel immediately connected to a place and to people who speak a language that we can not understand? I am not sure, yet I know I feel comfortable in it’s familiarity. Warm, tropical and Christmas trees with their festive lights fill the city.

It seems that everyone here has a motorbike. Women on their motorbikes keep covered with arm length gloves to block the intensity of the sun. Men and women alike adorn their faces with masks to filter out the pollution from the traffic ahead of them. Families of three and four riding on one bike–baby on board! Women in their silk dresses and sandals ride with the same ease as their counterparts in pants. The traffic weaves an unbelievable street dance to the tune of horns beep- beep- beeping to signal their passing.

Sunday afternoon, sitting in the lobby of our hotel- twenty-five children, boys and girls dressed in their choir robes descend the staircase, lining up on the stair steps they sing Christmas Carols. They sing with their sweet voices, familiar carols, with verses in both English and Vietnamese. Many of them only mimic the sounds in English-the uncertainty of their meaning shows. Yet they continue to sway in unison to the music and the happiness in their faces shines at the response from the audience. Some have made themselves in charge of keeping the lines straight. Some are holding hands to double their confidence, some wiggle away to vie for a position, independent. Many have broad smiles when they realize they have made eye contact with a stranger, others show a more solemn expression of shyness when they realize the attention they are receiving. These children form the Sunshine Choir from the local children’s center founded by Christina Noble. Through all the attention their tiny voices sing, We Wish You a Merry Christmas, Oh Christmas Tree- Oh Christmas Tree, Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, and the sweetest of all Silent Night.

Later in the afternoon, we watch from the window of our room as other children jump from the pier into the muddy Saigon river. The Sông Sai-Gon. They are happy for the wetness offered by the river water, a welcome contrast from the heat of the sunny day. The river current is swift but the children are skilled in their interaction with this flowing narrow river and climb up on the pier to jump again and again. If you close your eyes you can hear them count before they jump “môt, hai, ba…a..aa..!”

We have been here only a few hours and yet we know the day we must leave Vietnam will be a day that will bring tears of sadness. Tears that will absorb color and allow us to project in our own eyes, for the world to see, the brilliant blue of the Saigon sky.