We’re on our way to the farm, land that has belonged to my daughter’s boyfriend’s family for over a hundred years. A thanksgiving invitation has me accompanying her on her familiar monthly trek and night has fallen as we travel down a narrow-graveled road. The warm light of the farmhouse greets us and many hands appear to help in transporting suitcases and bags of requests from “the city”. 

Loud voices, numerous hugs and a welcome and predictable “you must need a snack”, I notice a table with massive plates filled with delicious food. It’s a good thing I brought my “stretchy pants” as this will be a common appetizing theme throughout the long weekend. How can I say no? Homemade… everything calls to me. 

Morning on the farm comes early and the smell of fresh coffee and conversation serves as my alarm clock. Breakfast, a smorgasbord of quiche, bacon, fruit, waffles, and freshly baked muffins – I won’t need to eat for the rest of the day, but I know I will. 

Off to tour the farm. Nine new black and spotted piglets, all boys, so cute and so quick. There’ll be no petting or cuddling. Momma has a steady eye on me and will protect her babies at all cost. Her massive size and steely glare keep me at my distance. The kittens have a friendlier demeaner and one with white, six toed paws tags along on our journey. The pasture awaits with the horses and one, ornery bull (in his own enclosure). My daughter grabs a random piece of twine, gently places it around the horse’s neck and jumps on for an impromptu ride. Her equestrian skills amaze me as this city girl has embraced the farm life and developed remarkable  skills. As I admire her proficiency, I feel a warm, moist nuzzle cradle tenderly into my neck. It startles me, and when I carefully look over, a giant nose greets me. A curious mare decides I’m a safe friend and continues her nestling while we visit. Off to visit the bull. His size is intimidating and his attitude daunting. We enter the pen and I cowardly hide behind my daughter and her beau. He kicks up dust and lets us know we’re in his space. His face is saying “piss off” and we do. 

Thanksgiving dinner preparation begins mid-afternoon. My contribution is turkey dressing and gravy. Unsure of the number of guests, I decide to quadruple my recipe. Using an industrial pot, I can barely reach to its bottom. My daughter wants to know the secret ingredients as I rarely follow any directions and I talk her through the process. All guests bring their own specialties and the hosts produce a magazine worthy, mouth-watering turkey. The dishes keep coming, laughter and chatting dominates the air. Norman Rockwell couldn’t have created a nobler scene. 

The grandparents arrived with musical instruments in tow and we all head outdoors for a concert and sing along. They’ve been together over sixty years and I find myself aching for the kind of love and devotion their admiration for each other has produced over these many decades. My daughter has a beautiful gift for me. She’s been practicing one of our favorite childhood songs on the guitar and invites me to sing with her. I can barely make it through without tearing up, what a lovely surprise. 

I look around at this charming scene. What am I thankful for? Every minute of it.  

I found myself absorbed in reverence as I remembered reading about the tremendously brave students who boldly protested against the communist government. The need to be heard, to have freedom of speech and freedom to live as they chose conquered their fear.  The “tank man” who unflinchingly stood in front of a moving tanker became a true symbol of a generation longing for change. 

Appreciating the precise grooming of the shrubs and the fantastic colours enthralled me, but my admiration was quickly interrupted. A large group of local visitors became obsessed with my daughter and me. We were a unique pair, with our very similar appearance and my daughters’ vibrant tattoos. Our new friends begged for a photo op. Many arms reached around us to cuddle close as iPhones captured the memory. Only after the group moved on did we think to check our backpacks. Our passports and money were inside! This could have meant a disastrous end to our trip if our acquaintances had had sinister motives. We were fortunate all was intact, but vowed to be more cautious and protective. 

After accumulating fourteen kilometers on our feet, we decided to spend a bit of time shopping and then head back to the hotel for a long-needed rest. Just outside the Square was an array of small shops and we headed into the first one. A surprising collection of garments and shoes called to us. We were greeted immediately by a saleswoman who obviously had a lot of personality. She gave me a quick head to toe glance and announced in full voice “more bigger!” as she led us to the larger sized items. Back in Canada, the clothes would be of average size, but there was a different standard in a country of very petite shoppers. I chuckled at her forwardness. The owner’s over the top and bubbly personality had me captivated and I quickly picked up some lovely keepsakes. The next shop was full of kitschy jewelry and we both agreed we needed to purchase a Frozen locket for my youngest daughter back home. We both knew she would be amused. 

Each shop was a chance to bargain; the challenge exciting and entertaining. The last stop had the selfie stick we needed to replace. We both needed some water as well and my daughter was in full negotiating mode. She continually offered less and less for the goods. Finally, our shopkeeper was insulted and refused to communicate any further. She focused on her cell phone after a stern, exasperated look at us. We left without the stick or water and learned a lesson about bargaining in moderation. Our charm had faded, so we chuckled and headed back to the hotel. 

A day of culture, new encounters and shopping adventures! We would rest well tonight treasuring our new memories. 

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! 

The air rippled with the heat, the day enveloped us with an intense temperature that had our clothes adhered to our bodies with sweat glue. But Xixia Temple called to us and we arrived ready to seize the day. Many venders sat in tiny chairs close to the entrance marketing their incense and we chose a box that could be shared with all. 

An immediate sense of peace and calm surrounded us, and it felt like we needed to whisper and walk with gentleness as we started our journey. The incense we purchased was divided and we approached the candle lighting area where we were to make our prayers known and answered. My daughter and I had a challenging time attempting to light our incense and a sweet, kind hand reached out silently. I saw the most compassionate of eyes in this tiny, grandmotherly woman who obviously knew the sacred routine. She cupped our hands so the incense clumped together and flame immediately flared. She then took us to the centre and indicated our need to bow to the east, west, north and south sending our prayers out in all directions. I wasn’t sure if a hug was too forward, so I embraced her hands and gave a grateful smile.

The pathways were groomed but maintained their natural feel. Each turn shared another layer to the heart of the temple. The first statue was an elegant, regal female reaching out to us. My friend explained she symbolized compassion and kindness. Legend had it she had sacrificed herself for her village and her selfless act of surrender had been gifted with the joy of watching over her people for all time. “She reminds me of you,” my friend whispered. Far too generous a comment, I appreciated it all the same. 

Before entering the temples, each having its own purpose, we took our turns tossing coins on top of a massive, metal elephant. Another “guarantee” of good luck and prosperity, we were pleased with our success. After a few stumbles, we learned quickly to check our footing entering each building. All of them had a ledge to step over. The function was to ensure no evil spirits were able to enter. The statues were ornate, golden and massive! Some seemed to invite us in, others were quite frightening. Whether you wished for good crops, prosperity, forgiveness or happiness for the coming year, each statue had you covered. 

Next, we attempted to climb the mountain. The pathways progressively narrowed as we ascended. I tried to blame it on the air thinning as we climbed, but I knew my lack of fitness was at fault for my slowing pace. I was grateful when we paused to admire a view or stop at a tiny stand. Cucumbers were peeled and offered for two yuan. I welcomed the healthy, quenching snack. My daughter and friend snapped a few questionable looking photos as I devoured the whole cucumber. We all had a good laugh and continued on our way. The lush green, exquisite, gentle waterfalls and statues built into the walls of the mountain captured our attention and admiration. A sudden dizzy spell had me stumble and the secure hand of my daughter saved me from a massive tumble. Now to make our way down… 

Exhausted, but hearts full, we found our way to solid ground. A series of food stands including artistic spun sugar designs greeted us.  A pungent scent and deep, well loved cooking pot advertised 1000-year-old eggs. They swam in a boiling black bath of vinegar type fluid. No thank you!! However, we weren’t going to escape without giving it a try. I’m all for adventure, but when it came to the future health of my stomach, I firmly refused. My daughter stepped up and offered to “take one for the team!” My cautioning advice was ignored and she soon had the steaming “treat” grasped in a napkin. A few bites and the egg was consumed. “Not horrible,” was her comment. I hope she wouldn’t pay for her bravery later. Fortunately, she didn’t. 

We finished our day’s adventure. Whether it was the gentle, kind hand of an elderly soul, the joy of wonderful company, the spiritual atmosphere of the temple or beauty of breathtaking statues and natural scenery, I left with a feeling of peace in my heart. 

“I have a plan and you need to be open minded,” my best friend quipped. I could tell from the mischievous tone in her voice I may be surprised by this plan of hers. 

We became enthralled with the scent of authentic street cuisine and stopped to enjoy an oversized and delicious falafel wrap. A beautiful walk down the street of Dresden and it was time for this open-minded adventure… A brightly lit entryway and we approached the front desk. We were in a sauna –  awesome! This was going to be so relaxing before my long flight tomorrow! But, my bathing suit was back in my suitcase. Apparently, I wouldn’t be needing it. Now the “open minded” comment came in to play. This unrestrained approach is common in Germany, sauna au natural! When in Rome…  well Dresden. We paid our nine Euros and with a brief explanation from our hosts, we were immersed into this steamy world. Tonight, was lady’s night, thank goodness! I don’t think I could have handled a co-ed sauna experience for my first naked and sweaty encounter. Gripping a towel tightly across my jiggly bits, I started to feel quite foolish. Everyone here was uninhibited and really had no concern about my nakedness. 

Sauna number one – first show at 7:30. We found our place, towel down (it’s quite rude, unsanitary and extremely hot to place your exposed buttocks on the wooden bench) and waited. Enter one large, lightly toweled host. The first session was a refreshing Tannenbaum oil distributed onto the blistering rocks. He was a magician with a towel and flipped and twirled the steam toward us. I could feel my  tense muscles relaxing and my pores completely opened. Our comrades were sitting, laying down and quietly chatting. It was challenging not to glance. These women were in great shape and I didn’t realize you could have piercings in such unusual places! (Eyes on the floor, eyes on the floor!) Now off for a refreshing shower. I pushed the knob and a massive rush of cold water made me gasp! One of the local women chuckled and gestured toward another shower knob that had a gentle, warm stream. I needed to ease myself into the hot/cold combo. The next show immersed us in eucalyptus and another invigorating experience. We enjoyed a foot bath, pool and many chuckles.

As we left and thanked our host, he cheekily blew me a kiss! I was amused and appalled at the same time but my friend was most entertained! We giggled and chatted on our walk through the trendy park dotted with partiers and many finding some interesting ways to relax. Always   an eye opener this trip. What a great way to end my holiday! 

*Featured image above can be sourced here

Charles Bridge – our first stop and already the city seems larger than life! The statues looming are either protecting or investigating us and we stop to capture the steely giants in our first photo of this amazing journey. We’re greeted with dozens of merchants selling everything from original local scenes captured in watercolour, pencil sketches of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, to hand painted hair clips and crystal. We resist for now, sure we’ll find many other treasures waiting. 

The immaculately trimmed and shaped gardens are a clear representation of the pride the Czech people have in their prized city. The hedges are perfectly groomed and house fabulously beautiful creatures. A white peacock sunbaths, casually glancing our way, then turns back to its relaxing pose, far too important to bother with these curious tourists. 

Turning the corner, we are faced with our first statue celebrating the male in all his glory – duelling penises! These mechanical marvels pivot just below the waist and spew water at each other in a finely calculated orchestra. After several childish giggles and variety of photos (our friends won’t believe this!) we’re off to tackle the cobblestone streets of Old Town Square. 

The Astrological Clock is truly spectacular and performs on the hour. The ominous creatures that greet us atop this marvel are balanced with angelic ones to ensure protection. We’ve been warned of skilled pickpockets that frequent the area and prey on unsuspecting tourists whose attention is absorbed by the wonder of the clock. We quickly appreciate it and move on. 

We continue our discoveries to find a charming jewelry shop that boasts having the best amber creations (of course they all make that claim).  Michael greets us as if we were old friends and proceeds to tell us of his conquests of the night before, sparing few details. For us, because we are beautiful Canadians, he would give such a deal! I hadn’t planned on making a purchase, but please, the guy is totally charming and for a hug, takes a few more Euro off my lovely amber rings. For a kiss, he explains, there could be more of a discount – I consider, but feel I have to draw the line somewhere! This will be enough of a story…

Around the corner, down the narrowest passageway in Prague (I can touch each wall with my elbows) and you guessed it, another male statue! This one is bronze and has been rubbed for good luck so often that his organs seem to be gleaming gold.

We ask the locals for the best restaurant to enjoy cakes and pastries. Café Café does not disappoint and we share a banana, chocolate cake covered in marzipan with our bubbly water. Sitting on the patio, people watching and enjoying a musical festival in the square, two hours pass with ease.   We promise ourselves to come back tomorrow and mark this delectable discovery on our map. 

It would be a transgression to miss taking in a summer concert presented by members of the Czech Philharmonic and we decide on The St. Salvator Church and the Vivaldi Four Seasons performance. We arrive early to secure a prime seat. The sun is just setting and touches upon a statue of Madonna and child long enough for me to snap a picture. It truly looks as though God is shining on these beautiful figures – goosebumps continue as we drink in the perfection of voice and strings in a perfect acoustic setting. 

Prague, my love, I will be back – thank you for your warm embrace and eternal memories.

*Featured image above can be sourced on Flickr here

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!