The flight was jam packed as I made my way to the back of the aircraft. Right by washrooms, most would be disappointed but I was just fine with that as I knew I’d be visiting frequently. Isle seat, ok and so far no one in the middle. 

Her name is Norah. I could tell I was going to love this tiny firecracker as she offered her seat to a young man so he could sit with his friend. What a fortunate act of kindness as she ended up right beside me. This petite lady was to prove to be larger than life and our encounter was a delightful way to end my memory filled holiday.

We exchanged sincere smiles and she seemed to be quite quiet and reserved as she tucked away what appeared to be a laptop and bag under her seat. Within a few minutes however, my first impression was proven incorrect as she opened up and started chatting in her somewhat broken but really her fairly impressive English. 

I discovered she was now living in Barcelona but spent most of her life in Venezuela. She spoke with great passion about the plight of her people, about how difficult life was and how many were attempting to escape to find some freedom and quality of life. The government had stopped her pension payments three years ago she explained, and I wondered how she was able to survive day to day. I could see the pain in her eyes and could tell she felt some level of guilt abandoning her people as she was now living in Spain with her daughter. “It is so bad, the government, I do not know. You understand?” she explained with a quivering voice, her eyes filling.  She explained that her job now was to be a grandmother. 

Fatigue soon took over and Norah slowly fell asleep. Her head gently started to lean toward my shoulder and I carefully reclined her seat and tucked a pillow under her head. She mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out and when I leaned forward to hear she repeated “you’re my angel”. 

As the announcement came that we were to fill out our customs claim form, she looked to me for help. We worked through the questions together and I was shocked when she filled out her date of birth. She was born in 1927. She was 91 years old! Her independence both shocked and impressed me and I sent out a request to the universe that I might be as fiercely independent when I reach that age. As we reached the goods taken into the country, she whispered that she had some ham she was bringing to her son. I hoped customs wouldn’t give her a hassle over that one. 

She wanted to watch a movie and she chose The Book Club (en español). I helped her manoeuvre the screen in front and get the earbuds adjusted. I loved hearing her snickers and belly laughs as she was clearly amused. Clicking on the distance travelled option on the screen, I showed her we were less than one hour away from Calgary. She squeezed my hand with anticipation and joy. Norah adjusted her now fly away hair so she was ready to meet her family soon. 

Now about to land, she scrambled to find a piece of paper and pen. She handed me a note with her name, phone number and email. At the end of the info she had written “Call me up!” Sweet Norah, I will make my next trip to Barcelona just so I can! 

Although it’s mid-October, we’re still enjoying 25-degree heat and we take a few moments to drink it all in on our balcony. We decide to let the night breeze flow as we drift off to sleep. Ahhh, Cool sheets and inviting pillows await. Am I dreaming? A shriek from my friend barely registers, back to snoozeville. As I wake refreshed, she asks “Did you notice the beetles? I screamed and I’m not sure if you woke up!” I feel badly I missed her traumatic experience and can’t believe I actually slept through it! We’ve made the grave mistake of leaving the balcony door open. Strange, almost cockroach size rectangular beetles invaded the bed, crawled and were relaxing on my friend’s face when she was jolted awake! As morning arrives, we quickly clean any of them that remain and swiftly close the balcony. Lesson learned! Surprisingly, we never encounter them while outdoors and are grateful for that.

First stop Piran, where the charm and history of this area first build in the Roman Empire in the 900’s, embraces us. Wandering the stone pathways, I can’t help but wonder about the stories of those that walked here before. My choice of flipflops was a poor one, as the uneven walking surfaces insist on solid, practical shoes…note to self! The main square was erected in the early 1900’s and was abuzz with school tours, tourist and locals appreciating the day. We’re very pleasantly surprised as the shop owners are exceptionally friendly and helpful; one even closing shop to walk us to the area we inquired directions for. We finish our day with a boat tour, a relaxing hour-long excursion along the Adriatic Sea.

We have a few minutes before sunset and enjoy a wonderful walk to the Sea. The sunset is intense with deep russets and golden yellows all blending into a gentle plum. Blink and you can miss it, the sunset disappears within a couple minutes. A flock of birds entertain us and travel in unison celebrating the glory of nature. Back to the dinner buffet and a visit to the local shops within the hotel. A perfect discovery of ancient looking world maps! These will compliment my old school classroom themed room back home.

We’ve decided to forgo the tour the next day and instead opt for a relaxing day at the pool. Crepes with fruit, nuts and yogurt as well scrambled eggs for breakfast… it’s a good thing we’re walking at least ten km a day! I hope I break even by the end of the holiday! We both take our books – mine is The Tattooist of Auschwitz – and find a lounge by the pool. We almost have the whole area to ourselves! Soon a mother and daughter from our tour group find a spot. Their deep tans indicate this is a regular routine for them. Both sporting ear buds they begin their dance routines. Quite entertaining! Inhibitions are nowhere to be seen and I love it!

The next day a charming, almost childlike train will take us to the heart of the shopping and I’m all in! My friend, who has run a marathon on the Great Wall, elects to run to the destination – of course! I arrive and she’s only a few minutes behind. The shops are all but empty as this is past tourist season and the bargains are awesome! The shop owners would much rather not pack up their goods and are happy to accommodate.

Our final day we travel to Rovinj and I search for the perfect piece of art to celebrate this wonderful trip. Many shops and km later, we trip upon a dark, cigarette smoke filled art gallery with several large folders to explore. I find a subtle watercolour of a stone entrance. The fine black marker lines added over the watercolour add a detailed dimension I can’t resist. My bargaining skills work and I claim my prize for around $35 Euro.

We make our way to the top of the Church of St. Euphemia. The view was worth the massive number of stairs. Obviously tourists, we’re approached by a local TV station crew and interviewed about our highlights of Rovinj. A violinist plays in the background, making our responses sound quite sophisticated!

One more boat ride, this one quite extensive, will complete our day. The cool breeze is a welcome relief. My friend heads to the front of the boat for some photo ops, but I’m quite happy just to relax in the shade. I hear many in our group snickering and peer over to the direction of their chuckles. We’re passing a nude beach, well our floppy and free sun bathers are actually laying on rocks, and they really have no concern for prying eyes. I consider taking a pic, but feel I need to respect the privacy of the clothes optional group.

We have time for a quick trip to a lovely outdoor café. I order a Margherita pizza. Our waiter is charming and seems to be quite taken with us. When he discovers we’re Canadian his attention doubles. Chanting “Canada, Canada!” he brings three of his waiter friends over to join the party! Soon shots arrive at our table and our new friends are insisting we go to the club with them tonight. They refuse to bring us our bill and we need to be quite firm that we have a bus to catch! We can’t resist a taking pics with our sociable crew and our uncontrolled laughter is caught on film to treasure.

Croatia; the people, the history and breathtaking views, the never forgotten adventures will be implanted in my favorite memories.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

We clutched each other’s hands with excitement settling into the tall, upholstered seats. They were akin to the seating found on a long-distance bus. The bullet train surprised us with its spaciousness, but also the amazingly smooth ride. At over 300km an hour you’d imagine a scene from a sensational roller coaster, however we both found ourselves nodding off with the gentle rocking. Beijing arrived in a blink and we innocently exited with simple directions in hand. Friends, who had carefully prepared the map, had great confidence in our abilities to manoeuvre through this fascinating, exotic city of over twenty-one million.

Now off to the subway…no worries…

We like a challenge, so why not also travel during one of China’s biggest holidays of the year! Clasping our carry-ons, we’re not prepared for the literal overwhelming multitude all intent on arriving to their destinations in a timely manner. My daughter is in charge of interpreting our route. Her look of panic says it all! Ok, let’s make our way to the information booth. She efficiently points down and turns to assist the next customer. After a brief panic, we decide our guide must have meant down the escalator. We shuffle into the train, pop our luggage between our legs and squeeze as we clutch each other’s waist for stability. The line map lights up above us as each stop is reached. 3,2,1 and off! Even though it’s early spring, the temperature has reached 35 degrees Celsius . Carefully avoiding the countless scooters, many with babies tucked into the basket between the handle bars, we make our way to the Novotel Peace hotel. Pre-booked and pre-paid, the way to go. It took some sleuthing to figure out we needed to have our hotel key inserted into the wall in order for electricity to work but we’ve arrived! Exhaustion has claimed me, but my daughter is itching to check out the best street shopping in Beijing, Wangfujing Street. “Keep your phone on’” and I’m napping before she’s out the door. She arrives two hours later laden with bags. I chuckle “Pace yourself!”

After a “western” dinner of a clubhouse and fries (we want to ease into the cuisine) , it’s off to Wangfujing and the night entertainment. Charm and charisma transcend any language, and my daughter has made friends with all the sales clerks we encounter with her animated personality. Marvelling at our bargains, we continue on our adventure. The street goes on for hours and we encounter perfectly synchronized and impeccably dressed dancers, formidable statues, charming shops and street vendors. Both famished after our adventures, we can’t help being amused. The golden arches invite us in. Seriously, a McDonalds? We must, and except for some questionable miniature sausages tucked inside the burgers, the flavor is the same.

Day one complete, the hotel beds invite. An early day tomorrow journeying to The Great Wall.

Tom, our driver for the day arrives promptly at 8:00 am.  Hiring Tom proves to be a prudent choice. The Wall is a 1 ½ hour drive from Beijing and Tom is a pro. Imagine your most intense rush hour traffic, multiply that by ten, add an additional eight lanes, goods precariously balanced on top of ancient transport trucks, constant bumper to bumper driving, endless honking horns, and you’ve experienced the traffic of Beijing. Tom chuckles at our gasps and looks of terror on our faces. He assures us we’re safe, this is a daily occurrence for him. He constantly sips his green tea and his resourceful driving lands us at the entrance of the Great Wall just after 9:30. As we begin our ascent, Tom points to a distinctive sign and indicates he’ll meet us at the best dumpling restaurant. He settles in at an outdoor table, lights a cigarette and begins chatting with his driver friends.

I’ve always been grateful for my compassionate daughter, but today my appreciation increases tenfold. Her patience is admirable as I struggle with the incline. Offering her arm as a railing extension, we make it to the gondola. A ten-minute ride and the climb actually begins. Uneven stone steps narrow and challenge, but my daughter’s secure, comforting hand extends, letting me know I can do this. At one point a massive gust of wind captures my tent like dress and all climbers beneath me get a free show of my granny panties. Oh well, an amusing story for all…

The summit is within sight and the historic significance of this structure that was born over 2300 years ago and completed over 375 years ago leaves me speechless. Caressing the brick wall, I marvel at the stunning view. The infinite green and winding wall snakes it’s way beyond my sight. How could this magnificence have been created by humans and have weathered time. This wonder has earned its reputation. I’m  startled by a sudden, precipitous flow of tears. An overwhelming sense of my mother fills me with joy and melancholy. With knowing eyes, my daughter squeezes my shoulder. “Grandma would have loved this!” Taking in the brilliance of this highlight of our trip, we make our way down to our meeting place. Great Wall, you did not disappoint!