Bonaire 2: Breathing underwater

Our month of Bonaire has come to a close. It was so nice to be in one house, one neighborhood

and one island for this long. Bonaire is not a lush, tropical island, it's arid, mostly flat with a coral reef surrounding it. The water has been the reason to be here.

The diving has been sublime. So easy. So tranquil. It is difficult to describe the sensation of breathing underwater. Once buoyancy is figured out, gravity is mostly gone and you feel weightless. It's the closest thing to space travel I will ever need. The effortless movement, a flick of the fin, a wave of the hand, and your facing a new direction. Also, adding to the Bonaire ease is 82 degree water that doesn't require a wetsuit.

Breathing underwater means limited sensory input. Smell and taste are mostly gone. Underwater, you hear only the sound of your breathing through the regulator and your bubbles. There is the occasional scraping of a parrotfish on coral and the snaps of a mantis shrimp, but other than that, the teaming life of a coral reef happens without a lot of auditory stimulus available to our ears over the dominant sound of breathing.

Giant anemones always house an interesting find.
A cleaning shrimp in this case. A fish can pull up
and signal to be cleaned, parasites be gone! 

Visually, all the eye candy is outrageous. Where to look first? Poking along the reef and looking through cracks and crevices in the reef for surprises: maybe octopus, odd fish behavior, an eel, you just never know what might show. Then the constant swish out of the corner of the eye distracts you away and onto something else. Some of the outrageous colors and shapes move while others stand still and hope you won't see them. All the while remembering to look out from the reef to see the turtle, tarpon or ray that might happen to swim by. Everywhere so much to look at with millions and millions of living beings within my field of vision. They may be very simple life forms like a coral polyp but the additive factor is stupendous.

So 12/5, we dropped off our rental car at Bonaire's Flamingo Airport. This rather well-used island ride dutifully served as our dive boat as well, taking us to the twenty plus dive sites that we visited out of the over 100 around the island. We did the easy diving and returned to our favorites multiple times. Now we are in Atlanta visiting LuAnne, collecting our things and preparing for the cross country drive. We need to be on Vashon by 12/16 to take our wonderful house sitters, Dan &Matt to the airport and settling back into our house until 12/29, then we fly to Aukland, New Zealand on January 7th. The fish and flamingos seem a long way from here and such is the hard part of travel, when you have to leave those really sweet spots. Savor and move onward. In the meantime, there's always hotel swimming pools for breathing underwater.

Bonaire 1: Saltwater therapy

When I was young I noticed how well my cuts healed in saltwater. Now I notice it about my internal wounds. There is just something elemental about the chemistry and minerals in salt water. Or maybe it's just the buoyancy.

There are over 100 dive sites around Bonaire to choose from

We've been on the island of Bonaire for almost two weeks now and glad to report feeling happy. In case you have never heard of Bonaire, it's part of the Dutch Antilles, 50 miles north of Venezuela and on the same latitude as Nicaragua. The land is arid, native vegetation leans towards thorny. Lots of goats, iguanas and donkeys. About 17,000 people live here and like most quiet Caribbean islands, it suffers brain drain from local people leaving for better jobs in the states, Holland or nearby sister islands, Aruba and Curacao. People here speak Papiomento, a language that mixes Dutch, Spanish and a little of dis and dat. Lots of Dutch tourists and resident. The mix is very congenial, no one seems in a rush, most are quick with a joke. I think we all seem to agree that we are lucky to be here, despite the heat.

We ended up here by accident. Plan A would have us in SE Asia right now, likely Vietnam. So Plan B put us here with no dive gear, not even a snorkel. Luckily we managed to find some used dive gear and snorkeling equipment so we are up and running. 

Diving is the best reason to be here. The entire island is surrounded by reef and has been part of a marine park since about 1994. Normally we use dive boats to get to the reef. Here, however, our car is our dive boat. We have tanks in the back of the care most of the time and gather our gear to head out when we are ready. This is the "rainy" season so the past few days it's been between squalls. That has also decreased our visibility. Doesn't seem to disturb the reef denizens and that's who we come to see. Every dive is a mystery, anticipation about what will we be lucky enough to see? One day it's a eagle ray who swims by us, then stops, turns towards us and head by us within 10 feet. The next day it's beautiful school of squid, hovering nearby as we take our first look around. And there is so much we miss, to be sure, as it's alive with creatures covering nearly every square inch of sand and rock.

Here are a few of our favorite creatures to date:

Frogfish, looks like a sponge, right?

We did manage to find a frogfish, (with the help of our dive shop (shout out to the awesome dive folks at Dive Friends Bonaire) who told us about a resident fellow sitting regularly on top of a sponge. The photographers that were swimming around her were another great locator!

We are still on the lookout for seahorse, might need another assist from better eyes than ours, we look and look in their habitat and have yet to be graced by the sight of that lovely little shape.

We are here until 12/5. It's such a luxury to be in one house, one location for one whole month! We will try to post again before we leave with updates from the sea!

Staten Island time

Jeff with the new World Trade Center behind.
Lovely building 1776 feet tall. Just opened 11/3

We have had an improbable and delightful linking of islands in these last few weeks. It began on Long Island where we stayed with our friend Karen Allen and her lovely dog Lily. Fall colors at their best and we enjoyed time cooking, laughing, sailing and a quick trip into the City to see our friend Alessandra Levy (daughter of the fabulous Geri Levy) perform with her group.

From there it was a short drive to Staten Island. We wanted to visit NYC without paying more for parking then for our room. Staten Island was a perfect solution. With the free 25 minute ferry to the lower end of Manhattan only a half mile from our fire house apartment, hosted by Suzanne and Anthony, it was an easy jaunt into the city. The new bike share program was our friend and the incredible indian summer days provided a great four days of island experience on Manhattan. Our remarkable and talented nephew Byron lives in Harlem so we got to see him a few times. We walked the Brooklyn Bridge, rode the park, saw Motown and got a vip pass to the Empire State Building thanks to Byron. And MoMA. Oh my. No place like NYC.

The view up the Hudson from the Empire State Building

After Manhattan, we jumped on the NJ turnpike and headed for the eastern shore of Maryland, there Tilghman Island. Waterman, crab cakes, ducks, dogs, deer and the big skies around the Chesapeake River replaced the concrete and crowds of NYC.
we visited more with Karen, at her house on

With a quick two day drive to inland to Atlanta, we visited our sister in law LuAnne and left our car and warm clothes with her and caught a plane to the island of Bonaire. Flipflops, dive shops, fish and gin clear water for the next 30 days.

Karen's Simplicity Cottage on Harris Creek, Choptank

Standing on the dock of the bay.

Lily, the wonder dog.

Plan B - On the Road Again

Had we followed Plan A, we'd be in the UK heading for SE Asia. However, after Bill's departure, we felt it would be better to stay close to family and friends and devised Plan B. Jeff flew to Seattle and picked up the car while I finished up Bill's project of getting our family's house in the market in Florida. (Anyone need a nice little home in Florida, our dad built it so it has good bones.) Jeff drove across the country and we rendezvous-ed in beautiful Cleveland to see my sister.

Karen and Olive

Cleveland is a great little city. Karen lives on the westside in Avon Lake and works at American Greetings. It was "take your sister to work afternoon" when I flew in so I got to see the inner AG workings... fun for me!  During our visit, we got to see the fabulous (and free!) Cleveland Art Museum, the Westside Market (rivals Pike Place) and enjoy fall walks in a few gems of the emerald necklace. Mostly it was nice just to be with Karen and her wonder-cat Olive in her sweet, comfy home.

From there we traveled along Lake Erie by Buffalo and headed east into the Adirondacks. Neither of us had been there before and the fall leaves were breathtaking. We stayed near Friend's Lake and did some hiking and biking in the unseasonably warm weather.

Jan and John Stewart and our bonus day on Casco Bay

After a beautiful drive across southern Vermont and New Hampshire, with fall leaves in full glory, it was great to see the water again in Portland, Maine. We came here to visit John and Jan Stewart. John and Jeff went to SIU together "back in the day" and we'd visited them in Nicaragua in March. The Stewarts live along the bayside of Portland and can see their sailboat moored offshore, from their front porch. Sweet. It seems like a good life here in Portland, very walkable, bikeable city with friendly folks and a sense of quirkiness not unlike the other Portland (OR). We had a bonus fall day of 70 degree weather to sail with them on Casco Bay, incredibly beautiful day and another sunny bike ride down to the Cape Elizabeth lighthouse. Lots of laughs and good conversations, as always with them.

We cast again tomorrow for Long Island to visit my of 30 years, Karen Allen, and enjoy time with her. The rest of Plan B includes driving back to Atlanta to visit LuAnne and then flying to Bonaire, in the Netherlands Antilles 11/7-12/5. Once back in the US, we'll drive back to Seattle where we will get to housesit for our housesitters while they travel. Looking forward to visiting friends and family, bonus deal.  In the new year we will fly to Aukland, New Zealand on 1/7/15 and back from Sydney, Australia on 4/27/15. At least that's our plan, we will see what really happens this time!

Rich Lake in the central Adirondacks, photos don't seem to do fall colors justice! 

The real journey begins

I have been trying to write this post for over a month now. What would I say about my brother after his death? Not a post I want to write but here goes.
We traveled to Atlanta 8/25 to help Bill and Lu Anne fight this leukemia fight. I was found to be a bone marrow match so we were planning to come to Atlanta for the months it was going to take to get him well enough for the surgery. That wasn't to be and sadly he left the planet on 9/3, surrounded by people who loved him. He is no longer suffering and I am happy for that. It was so hard to see my vibrant, strong brother reduced to a shell of a body.

Easter 1964-ish

Now a new journey begins, how do I move forward without my brother? One step at a time beginning with this post.
Bill, Billiam, Billy Bob. Born as William Monroe Rowlett III. I knew him as my big brother. As kids, I was enough of a tomboy that I wanted to follow him everywhere (You know how that arrangement usually works out!). Bill never yelled at me, or was cruel to me to get me to leave him alone, not his style. He simply found other ways to elude me. Smart boy.
He was an impish little kid and loved to tease and prank both his little sister and our oldest sister Karen. Every summer as kids we were piled into the back of the family car and were driven to Alabama, North Carolina and several times to New England and eastern Canada. I can remember one family summer vacation where he tickled me from Florida to New Hampshire. I wasn't ticklish after that. He toughened me up. I remember learning to ski with him, he'd take me up a lift and once at the top, I'd find out it was a double black diamond. I had to find a way down. He helped me learn I could get down anything. Thank you Bill.

As adults, I really saw what Bill was capable of when we started that inevitable journey of aging parents and eldercare. Bill was right there, taking on what needed done and never failing to show up. He brought himself, even when he didn't want to or didn't think he needed too. He gave me courage to do the same.
Bill was an amazing husband, father, friend, employee, and whatever else he was. Mentor. He touched many people. His good friend/brother Jim Crumbley posted this beautiful tribute to Billness on his blog, he says it way better than I can. Patient, kind, always looking to lighten things up with a joke. Very slow to anger. These are the traits of inner Billness.
At Emory Hospital, in Bill's final hours I looked around the 9 other people that were there, surrounding his bed, and felt such gratitude for how Bill lived his life and how he was deeply loved. His last breath seemed very peaceful. Now the journey begins to live from my inner Billness and be grateful for the 55 years that I was lucky enough to have him as my bro.

Bill and LuAnne in their happy place. 

Paris: Merci, au revoir & à bientôt!

Paris was our last stop in France and our first big city since Lisbon. We’d gotten used to the peace and quiet of Burgundy, Provence, the Lot-Garrone and Prades earlier in August and felt a bit of apprehension about driving into the Big City. Luckily our house was in Ivry-sur-Siene and an easy entrance off the highway. Our friend Ellen from DC flew in to Charles de Gaulle and navigated the Paris metro system to meet us there. Before we knew it, we were settled and ready to get our Paris exploration going.

Our first job was to return our car to the Renault dealer which put us on the west side of Paris and walking distance to the old city. We explored the city by the water taxi system along the Seine and got a feel for where we were, since so much is built around the river. We knew there would be too much to do for one week and that compromises would need to be made. This initial lay of the land helped us get more comfortable, as did relieving ourselves of the burden of our faithful steed, Bridgette. Merci et au revior!

Day two we discovered how to use the bike share system (called the Velib). Since our house was on the east side along the Seine, this allowed us to pick up a bike by our house, ride along the river and access all parts of the city. Paris is amazingly bike friendly and the locals are used to these huge Velib bikes making erratic movements through traffic. Also it was August many Parisians are gone creating a little less traffic. With the Velib we biked to Notre Dame, art museums, Pere Lechaise cemetery and up to Montmartre and through all neighborhoods in between.

Ellen cruising across the Seine on her Velib bike

One of our favorite finds was an outdoor photo exhibit which was 100 photos to mark 100 years since the start of WW1. Remarkable photos that helped us see a glimpse into some of the human side of this brutal war that played out on this soil. Photos of men from all around the world who came to fight and mostly die. The exhibit of black and white photography lined the Champs-Élysées; getting great exposure for all the tens of thousands of families and tourists that were walking that street. The photos made me think about both my grandfathers who served and survived but especially my mother's father who stayed on after the war and studied at the Sorbonne before returning home.

Our neighborhood was just beyond the Peripherique (perimeter freeway) in a former industrial area. We enjoyed seeing how real people live in Paris and croissants and desserts from our fabulous local boulangerie. When we needed packing material to get the folding bike packed for shipping, our neighborhood had the perfect hardware store. Paris through the back door. We saw a lot of the Siene, the houseboats and restaurant boats, neighborhood places, many closed during August since their clients were vacationing. We enjoyed seeing the African men and women in traditional dress and people from all over the world in our neighborhood. 

The rest of the week flew. We all decided when we come back, we’ll spend more time just walking around neighborhoods and lingering in cafes. Personally, I'll do more art history with all the treasures that Paris holds, many we saw and others will have to wait. Merci Paris et à bientôt!

Notre Dame 

The Louvre from Bonapart's Apartments

Burgundy, bovine, birthday, bicycles and barges

Deck view with personal herd of cow

After a long drive north with the vacationing eurozone, we drove east from the town of Beaune into the Burgundy hills. The scenery immediately became different, rolling hills of deep green, dotted with cows. We wove our way from the main highway to our tiny village of Benoisey. Our house here is a restored farm house owned by Judy & family from the UK and lovingly restored by her family. As we opened the old keyhole gate to the nondescript entrance we caught our breath at the view just inside. It overlooked the deep, wide valley, down to the Canal du Bourgogne.

It was my great good fortune to ring in my 55 birthday here. Jeff, always the hero went out that first morning here and came home with the internet (a hotspot). That’s all I wanted was to be able to send text and emails to keep up with Team  Rowlett. The roses and the crement were icing on the cake. We jumped on our bikes and had a lovely ride down the canal. As it was Sunday and it’s pretty rural, we’d planned a special birthday dinner that we would cook from prunes we’d brought from the Lot Valley and rabbit. The perfect way to ring in the new year.

Burgundy must have the most contented and healthy cows on the planet. We had our own little herd of cows in the small pasture just below our house. Strong bulls, playful calves, and sweet faced heifers.  All makers of the incredible selection of local cheeses (epoisses, my new personal favorite!), butter, fromage blanc, crème, yogurt and milk. Also future boeuf bourguignon.

A beautiful week in burgundy, sorry to say goodbye. But we are now in Paris and onto way too much to see before we fly out on 8/25.

The view from the deck

Just down the road, Courcelles du Montbard

Birthday bike ride selfie

Provence: Vacationing with the French

We left Monsemprom-Libos and took the southern route into Provence. When we hit the main road south of Toulouse that heads east towards the French Riveria and southern Provence, we hit the masses. Cars loaded with families and all their vacation paraphernalia like bikes, pillows, suitcases, pets, and more.

We had chosen a northern Provence destination (Orange) for this reason: We knew that we would be vacationing with the French. And the rest of the European Union that travels to the south of France for vacation.

The house we rented was on the hill above the old part of the city of Orange, a view towards Mount Ventoux. Our lovely host Marylene spoke no English and welcomed us with fresh ratatouille, local goat cheese, peaches, tomatoes, and a chilled bottle of  Tavel rose, some Provencal specialties. After our long drive, we appreciated this generous welcome. We settled in.

The only downfall with Maison du Marylene was no wifi. That led us to L’Academie du Billards, owned by a lovely young woman named Jenny and her family. She had studied in Iowa and Seattle for two years and made us feel right at home. Jeff went to the cell phone store to recharge our pay as you go cellular chip and ran into Marylene who was purchasing a hotspot for us. Voila, we had wifi and a new English speaking friend.

Orange is in the Cotes du Rhone (note: should be hats above the “o”s there, can’t figure it out in blogspot!), an amazing wine growing area so we hired a wine guide to show us around and help us understand what made it so great. Simple: Terrior (Chip, it was like you were right there!). The soil is rocky, chalky or sandy all around the area, dry and perfect for stressing grapes. Mike from Wine Safari took us through vineyards in Chateaunuef du Pape and Gigondas showing us the different grapes, soils and growing methods. And then, of course, the wine tastings. Two family run wineries and both were fantastic. Mike was a great source of information and we understood why the wines were so dang good that we tasted.

Provence is littered with well-preserved Roman sites and Orange has an amazing 2000+ year-old roman theatre that we could look down into from the park across the street from our house. Marylene showed us how to watch a simulcast of the opera that was being preformed on Tuesday there so we saw the inside on the TV, listening to Italian opera (Othello) with French subtitles. They also have a great market on Wednesday morning and we stocked up with lots of local produce, cheese, oils and goodies. The Theater is the main draw to Orange so it was easy to avoid the vacationing masses.

We ventured off into the Luberon region and we got a taste for what our friend David referred to as the “heaving masses”. Bus loads of Japonese, French and other European tourists. Of course there’s a good reason why so many people come here: It’s a beautiful area with picturesque villages sprinkled among red rock hills. We went to Roussillon, along with hundreds of our closed friends. It was lovely, set among ochre and red hills above a verdant valley. I’d love to visit Provence on the off-season to explore more of this diverse region of France. Mike the wine guy said “We don’t see many Americans here in August”, and I thought that’s because the smart ones wait until September! You only travel to France in August once!

Leaving Orange, we again experienced the notorious French vacation traffic jams with heavy volumes going north. We entertained ourselves by watching license plates from other Euro-zone countries and guessing how much the next toll would be. Once we passed Lyon, left them masses and entered Burgundy, a sweet relief from the traffic.

view from Roussillon

Cheap seats to for the Roman theater in Orange

View towards Les Dentelles from the Gigondas vineyards 

100 year old grenache vines at Chateauneuf du Pape

Lot/Garrone Valleys: Life in a medieval village and a stone house

Just north of Toulouse is the Lot Valley. The Lot river runs in a westerly fashion alongside several others such as the more better known Dordonge (to the north) and the Tarn (to the south) from the Massif central to the sea in the Bordeaux region. We ended up in the Lot per chance when we found an interesting house on AirBnB advertised as a Stone House in a Medieval Village. From my living room on Vashon Island, this seemed like close enough to the desired area so we booked it.

The Medieval village turned out to be Monsempron-Libos and the stone house that of a mosaic artist from the US and the perfect place to experience the immediate vicinity. We didn’t make it much beyond 10 K of our house, there was so much to see right here. Libos, our little village down the hill on the river, had all the basics: the 8 au Huit grocery store, pharmacy, boulangerie, charcuterie and the largest weekly market in this Lot et Garrone region.  And very few tourists stay in this area. We learned from one bar owner that most tourists head to Agen and larger areas with more infrastructure. With most of the locals on holiday, it was very quiet. The three-foot stone walls of our house added to that effect!

Our preferred method of exploration was rambling and on bike. The rambling maps were like following a scavenger hunt: “ go to the third vine and cross between two electric fences…”, that kind of thing. We wound through hedgerows that have been traveled for centuries, following paths laid out through farmlands, forests and vineyards.  The sweet bike path that followed the river for about 30 K made for delightfully easy biking just a quick downhill ride from our house.

On one ramble we walked in front of someone’s house just as they were returning, and a friendly voice asked if we were lost. Turned out to be Dolly and Werner, from the Netherlands they had bought their house about five years early and were now living here full time. “We have wine, would you like some?” was Dolly’s invitation. You don’t have to ask us twice and we enjoyed spending time with them and their family and friends at dinner a few nights later. Werner’s brother Rene had been in Seattle the year before and gave me a tour on his iPad, made me homesick! It’s truly the people who make the trip and these generous people touched us deeply.

Now we are onto Provence, the city of Orange for five nights. We are packing up our maps and memories of the Lot and hope to return for longer someday.

Rambling through sunflower fields

The Lot, a lazy river.

The yellow marks like the one on the tree to the left helped us find our way.

Monsempron-Libos, the Medieval section where our house was located. 

Prades: De tour en France

It’s the unexpected detours that make a trip special. Since we were coming to France in August, the time when everyone goes on holiday, our Francophile friends warned us to book our places in advance. We dutifully followed their good advice and created a route that would take us from San Sebastian to Paris in four weeks. Later when I told my French friend Isabelle about our itinerary she responded “You are nuts to go to Lourdes in July, it will be a madhouse”. Duly noted.

Then, in our first few weeks in Spain, in Delta de l’Ebre, we met David and Simone, a British couple living in France’s Roussillon region, in the town of Prades, near the Mediterranean Sea and the Spanish border. “One can’t travel around the world without seeing Prades.” said David, and the laid out the invitation to visit. Since they were free during the time we had planned to be in Lourdes and detoured to visit them. This meant driving the length of southern France, from San Sebastian, along the Pyrenees to the Mediterranean coast and then east again into the lee of the mountains. And we were so very glad we did. Not only are David and Simone incredibly generous, funny and interesting hosts, they live in a very rich area of France. 

Prades is the home of the Festival Pablo Casals, started by cellist Pablo Casals. We arrived the day before the opening concert. David got us tickets and we were lucky enough to see the most amazing performance of chamber music in the Abbey Saint Michel de Cuxa, under the shadow of the sacred Mount Canigou. The church was consecrated in 974 and enlarged in 1100’s. The cloisters were dismantled during the revolution and then half were brought to the New York Metropolitan Museum in 1925 and rebuilt there. The other half was rebuilt at the abbey. So we experienced remarkable music in a sublime setting, creating an unforgettable evening.

We left Prades on a rainy morning and drove through Cathar country, through the town of Maury (we live on Vashon-Maury Island) and across some beautiful Napa/Sonoma type country. After a lovely lunch in Limoux, we drove through Toulouse where Airbus is located (our Seattle/Boeing rival) and are now up on the Lot-Garronne Valley, in the Aquataine region. It is an area of rolling hills, Bastide towns along the Lot & Garronne rivers which flow down from the Mastif Central. We are here for a week and look forward to unpacking and relaxing amidst the tranquility of the French countryside.

Abbey at Saint Michel du Cuxa

Inside as the musicians prepare. 

Fort La Libertee build beside Villefranche in 1700's looking into the Pyrenees

Raining morning drive leaving Prades, through beautiful country, well worth a return trip.

San Sebastian: Surfs up

We drove into San Sebastian on a dark, overcast, cloudy day. They say the weather here is like Seattle so we weren't too surprised. That didn't stop surfers, the rough weather brought them out. Wetsuits and boards walking through the city streets along the surfer's beach. The next day, another cloudy day, no problem, we had other things to attend to. Then crystal clear, it was like a clear day in the Pacific Northwest, there is noting more beautiful. That day we drove to Bilboa to see the Guggenheim Museum, retracing one hour of our drive from Llannes. We got to see all the beauty we missed on the way in, stunning hillsides, lush green, steep, sheep grazing and beyond those more craggy peaks like the Picos de Europa. And the museum was an absolute treasure. Great space, amazing art, inside and out. Yesterday we got to discover what a bike friendly city this is as well. Great stay here, topped off with pinxtos, of course. Tomorrow its onto Prades, France tomorrow and hasta luego Espana.

The surfing beach on a calm day

This dog sculpture at the Guggenheim was covered in annuals. 

Guggenheim Modern Bilboa

This guy kept following me on my bike...

North Atlantic Spain: The Coastal Way

In northern Spain, you don’t have to go far to cross one of the many routes of St. James (The Way). This pilgrimage route to the burial place of the apostle St. James has been approached by many peoples, coming from different places and from around the world for centuries. In Ortigueira, we found ourselves along the “English Route” for people coming from the British Isles. At our next stop, Poo de Llanes, in the Asturia region, we found ourselves on the coastal route of St. James. Beautiful trails, coves, swimming beaches and one picture perfect day out of two, we’ll take it. Life is good.

The Mountains looking south. Behind those are the famous Picos de Europa,

A glimpse into Galicia

We left Lisbon and drove north through the rest of Portugal into the far northwestern corner of Spain, a region called Galicia. People had told us how different this part of Spain was, still wild and very wet. After the hot and dry weeks in southern Spain, that sounded pretty good. As we drove into Spain, the terrain changed dramatically to be much more hilly with extensive bays, fishing boats and bridges. It began to look like home.

Our house was near the village of Ortigueira, set up on a hill overlooking the “ria” or bay. Our hosts, Christina, and her family of seven siblings, were renting the house for their cousin who was in Madrid having medical treatments. We couldn’t believe our good fortune, the house was beautiful, a remodeled home from the 1700’s that had been lovingly brought into this century.

The family owns a horse farm that we visited, it was on the property their family had owned for about 6^th centuries. They host family visit for people from all around the world, run a childrens camp, a jumping club that hosts national events and day rides. Check them out if you are ever in the area or interested in working on a Galician horse ranch. http://www.granxadosouto.es/

It was a great location for exploring the area. We went to Cabo Ortegal and some of the bays and hills surrounding us. Very peaceful, very much like home with overcast skies, verdant green hills, and inlets cutting through the landscape.

Turns out we were just a few days ahead of the second largest celtic music festival in the world, festival Ortigueira www.festivaldeortigueira.com. The roughly 7,000 person village was gearing up for about 50,000 visitors. This allowed us a traffic free bike ride to the best beach in the area, the site of camping for this crowd before they showed up. Amazing dune system and a 5K beach, glad to see it before the swarms arrive!

So grateful for this brief glimpse into Galicia and for the context that our hosts set for us. And to cool off a little bit and get away from the relentless sunshine.

The view from our house, O Castro do Africa

Cabo Ortegal

Christina and Jeff with one of the Grainxo do Souto jumpers.

Riding along the bay and dunes before the Celtic music festival begins - tranquilo!