Monday, 20 October 2014

John Wesley Powell said....

"The wonders of the Grand Canyon cannot be adequately represented in symbols of speech, nor by speech itself. The resources of the graphic art are taxed beyond their powers in attempting to portray its features. Language and illustration combined must fail."

Born in 1834 John Wesley Powell was a US soldier, geologist, explorer, university professor. In 1869 he and his expedition completed the first known passage through the Grand Canyon.


He also said "The glories and the beauties of form, colour, and sound unite in the Grand Canyon - forms unrivalled even by the mountains, colours that vie with sunsets, and sounds that span the dispason from tempest to tinkling raindrop from cataract to bubbling fountain."

"The landscape everywhere, away from the river, is of rock, cliffs of rock, crags of rock, ten thousand strangely carved forms....cathedrals shaped buttes, towering hundreds or thousands of feet, cliffs that can not be scaled, and canyon walls that shrink the river into insignificance, with vast hollow domes and tall pinnacles and shafts set on the verge overhead; and all highly coloured."


How can you compete with such eloquence? He has said in 3 short paragraphs what I have been grappling to articulate for the past 4 weeks.... Is it really 4 weeks already?


So the end of my 5 week holiday has arrived and I am well and truly back to reality, day two into a new job, and snuggled up under my duvet whilst a hoolie of a storm rages outside. Each of the elements of my trip were fun, interesting and different and it was fantastic to meet up with friends along the way, and make new friends too, but my overriding memories will be of the Grand Canyon.

Words truly fail me, and even now just remembering causes me to cry (again!). From our whooping and hollering at having survived Crystal, the coolness of standing under waterfalls or just wadding into the river fully clothed, clambering up creeks to find an oasis, hanging out in Havasu Creek, listening to the thunder bounce off the walls, finding out that the Ticket was there (i.e. The toilet was free!), just sitting back on the boat and watching the gorges widen, and narrow, sitting on the riverbank and being struck with how peaceful it was, the changes in the rocks, free floating down the river whilst Corey or Wiley would read extracts from books or tell stories, cowboy coffee in the mornings, listening to the river, and gazing at those magnificent stars. 


I remember thinking last year before I headed off on my 3 month trip that perhaps I would find some magic answers somewhere. Answers to questions that I had or questions that I didn't even know.  But there was no major break through! And to be honest I was probably a tad disappointed about that.


Who knew then that spending one week away would cause me to feel more than I could possibly have imagined, and give me an opportunity to learn about myself. Not only did the experience, on a very basic level, give me an immense sense of pride and achievement but it also created a greater sense of hope, courage and positivity, and I know that these gifts need to be held onto and nurtured, which will be the hardest task, as everyday life can have a tendency to chip away at one's confidence and resolve. 


For all of you lucky people who I get to see in person I apologise in advance. Part of me will want to regale you with stories, part of me will no doubt get emotional, but part of me fears that by telling the stories the memories will weaken and fade. Daft I know, but there you go! 

I was talking to some of the group whilst we were in the Canyon, asking if they would ever do the trip again. At the time I stated that I firmly believed that you should never go back, that part of the experience is the unknown, seeing vistas for the first time, the shock of the cold water, the awe at the stars on the first night (well every night actually!), not knowing how a Grade 10 rapid would feel, and not knowing what was around the next corner. We had amazing guides, perfect weather, and a fabulous group, surely any other experience would be a let down? But the further away I travel from that oh so magical place the less I can accept that I will never be there again. The only factor that has stopped me from re-booking is the thought that I will not be travelling with my Grand Canyon family, Victoria, Tracie, Steve and Keith. Steve is already cracking.... He, like me has looked at 2015 dates! He just needs to convince Tracie, then we can work on our two American friends......!


So this blog is finally at an end. I appreciate that this is just a means to effectively record my journeys and experiences, and hope that my random thoughts have not come across as those from too much of a bonkers and barking mad Guernsey girl. I know I have a tendency to ramble and sometimes my mind races faster than my typing, and I forget details!

To end. I left a large part of my heart at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. I need to check that it is still there. And I will sleep under those stars again. I flipping well will.




Sunday, 19 October 2014

New York, New York!

Our time in New York has passed in a flash. We arrived at 4pm, managed to hire a stretch limo to take us to our rather plush hotel and then it was a quick change and time to venture out. Kirstie has never been to New York and I am pretty sure she spent the entire time skipping! My hotel room is bigger than my house and it seems a bit wasteful. There is a whole sitting room that I didn't even use!


First stop was up the top of the Rockerfeller building, which used to be known at the Rainbow Room. It has recently re-opened after a re-vamp and was fantastic, looking down Manhattan, from the 65th floor, towards the Empire State Building, which I was excited to see was lit up with purple lights. They must have known we were coming!


A couple of amazing cocktails and a very expensive bottle of champagne and I honestly felt on top of the world. But we headed out to find a Speakeasy that we had heard about. So we raced in two taxis down towards Lower Manhattan and found a very unglitzy hot dog concession, the kind of place you might visit at a really stupid time in the morning when you have been partying all night and just want food, any food, to such an extent you bypass your usual standards! Down the stairs in this fast food joint there was an old style telephone box. I went in, rang the phone once, and after a minute or two it was answered and the back wall of the phone booth opened! A lady took one look, asked how many there were of us and let us in to the bar behind! Okay so it's a bit cliche, but I loved it. And we sat at a table that allowed us to see what happened when the phone rang. Not everyone was allowed in!


When we left the bar as most of us were in need of food we went on a dinner hunt, but not everyone could agree where to go. A food van selling falafel was spotted and I staked my claim. The boys didn't agree and headed off, whilst the girls all placed an order, at which point the heavens opened and it chucked it down! We tried to hide under the awning but were getting soaked, so it was a case of wolfing down our wraps, hailing a cab and then heading back to the warmth of our hotel bar, to wait for the boys!

Having been to New York before, and having visited most of the top tourist attractions it was quite relaxing to just wander around and not feel the need to race around and beat the crowds, which was good given that the weather the next morning was awful. There was only one thing for it. Hide in the shops! Always and expensive occupation! I was collared by a lady in Bloomingdales who insisted that she do my make up for me! I must have looked in dire need!!! And usually there is no time to sit there and just be made up, but I had nowhere to be. She decided to shovel on various lotions and potions, but just one one side of my face, so that I could see the difference. Nope! I nodded and agreed with everything she said, but couldn't really see any difference! But she was very sweet and very good at selling products. And I am just a sucker for parting with my money!

I caught up with Anna, Tony and Rob when we met at Grand Central Station. We sat above the main concourse and had lunch. What an amazing building. 


After helping Anna spend some of Tony's money on a rather lovely handbag the boys insisted that we go to Hooters! I have to admit to not being overly keen at the prospect, but it wasn't as seedy as I had expected, and I managed to escape after a quick drink! We left the boys there!

Our last dinner was supposed to have been at the Gordon Ramsey restaurant at The London ( our hotel). It had been booked for months but an email to Anna the day before they travelled to the US informed her that the restaurant had closed! As a result they had booked us into his other restaurant maze! which the boys had decided had a better menu anyway, and they gave us various complementary drinks etc to apologise. 


We had such fun! Our sommelier, William, was really funny and knew what he was doing, and I even managed to convince the group to try an American wine!!!!

Saturday, 18 October 2014

Shop until you drop...

It inadvertently turned into another girls day! As we headed in a taxi to the Wrentham shopping outlet about 45minutes away. Anna is a professional when it comes to shopping, and I obviously have alot to learn! But we tried very hard to spend money and pretty much succeeded!


As the boys were M.I.A. when we returned there was nothing for it except to hit a nail bar and get manicures! 


That evening we headed out to Fort Point in South Boston to a restaurant that had been recommended to us called the Barking Crab. 


Not quite a shack on a beach, more a shed on the waterfront. But an incredible night time view of the city. It is just wooden tables and chairs, paper plates or plastic baskets and a fairly short menu consisting of crab and / or lobster. We were all given plastic bibs, and it was a veritable feast of seafood! Our waitress was hilarious, which just added to the entertainment of the evening. 


Now we Brits appreciate that the tipping culture in American is way beyond anything we have, you tip for EVERYTHING, and the tips are much higher than we would usually considered the norm, with most receipts calculating 15, 18 & 20%. But all 6 of us encountered at various points being actually told off for not having given a large enough tip! When we were at the Top of the Hub we had been served by a sour faced girl, who quite frankly was rude and ignored us. She bluntly told us we had miscalculated our tip, and there must be a mistake!!!!!


The following morning we left Boston, headed for South Station and caught the Acela Express train to New York. Travelling up to 150mph, we belted through towns and villages along the East coast! past marinas and harbour and saw the fall in all of its amazing colours. I can see why it attracts so many tourists. In fact at one point I complained that we were travelling too fast and I couldn't take everything in quick enough!


I loved Boston and could quite easily live there. It's green, feels safe, you can walk everywhere. I suppose it is not in New England for nothing and does feel a bit like a British city in certain ways. I would not mind returning and venturing further to Cape Cod and some of the other more rural parts.

Monday, 13 October 2014

It's all about me.....

Today I decided to have a cheeky day to myself. The boys had tickets to see an ice hockey match and our original plan had been to go shopping, until we realised it was Colombus Day Weekend and the shops would probably be mobbed! So Anna and Kirstie headed to Harvard for a mooch and I wandered off to find the Boston Museum of Fine Art.


I arrived at the museum to discover the most enormous queue. It transpired that because of the public holiday entrance to the museum was free and everyone wanted to go! Luckily the queue moved quite quickly and within about 15 minutes I was in!

Then I managed a fairly blissful 3 hours wandering the corridors. The museum has a renowned reputation and it didn't disappoint, with Monet, Rembrandt, Pollock, Ruebens, Canaletto, Van Gogh, Burne-Jones, all in situ. I looked for a Reynolds painting that I had been involved with at work, which was rumoured to be hanging there, but I had no joy. I did spot one of the most powerful Turner's I have seen.


Called "Slave Ship" it was based on the real life events in 1781 when the captain threw over 100 slaves overboard because they were ill in the hope of claiming the insurance money.  

There was a small exhibition of World War I propaganda posters, which I really enjoyed. Set up by Woodrow Wilson in 1917 the Committe on Public Information were charged with creating a propaganda campaign to secure support for the war effort from the general public.


After a wander through the European and then the American art I found myself in front of the most beautiful piece of contemporary art. It was by an American called Shinique Smith. Most of her art work consists of elements of disused clothing, and whilst some are clever others just look like bales of material. But this one piece was just so gorgeous. Called "Majesty" it was inspired by glacier walks in Iceland. Maybe I should add I eland to my list!!! I would quite happily have painting on my wall! 


Whilst I stopped for a quick bowl of soup I was treated to a performance of flamenco music and dancing which was an added bonus, but very soon I could take no more and so headed out for a walk around Fenway Park. I live Boston. You can just walk everywhere.

Newbury Street was my next port of call. This is a well know street for shops and cafés. I forced myself to break the "shopping seal" and finally buy something! 

One of our cab drivers had suggested that we head to "Top of the Hub" a bar on the 52nd floor of the Prudential building. Given that the boys were way laid in pubs after the ice hockey it seemed fitting for the girls to dress up and hit the town. It was well worth it. Amazing cocktails with a fantastic view. We could see the planes lining up to land at Logan Airport and it became rather mesmerising!



Sunday, 12 October 2014

Who fires at puppies....?


So said our guide, Ebenezer Macintosh, otherwise known as Steve, when he was explaining to us about the start of the fight for American Independence, and the fact that a very famous depiction of the Boston Massacre shows solders firing at puppies (as well as people!) We had walked from our rather plush brownstone apartment on the fairly grand and tree-lined Commonwealth Avenue to Boston Common. Here is the start of the Freedom Trail walks. Our guide spent the next 2 hours walking us past the Massachusetts State House, Granary Burying Ground, Old South Meeting House (where the decision to throw the tea into the sea was taken), Old State House, the alledged site of the Boston Massacre (which wasn't a massacre at all as only 5 people died, but even in 1770 it was all about propaganda) to Faneuil Hall. 


We were regaled with stories of Paul Revere, Samuel Adams and James Otis, and our guide took great delight in quashing any generally accepted versions of stories that are obviously fundamental for American history. 


It was so entertaining that when he advised that he would be starting a similar walk for a different part of the trail we couldn't help but join that too, and explored North End, past the site of Paul Revere's house, and the Blackstone Block where sailors would swap news from far off ports for bed and board, to Copp's Hill burying ground.


Whilst enroute during out second walk we were told in no uncertain terms that we should visit Maria's bakery as she made the best cannoli in town. Over the next couple of days this claim was refuted, and Mike's bakery staked it's claim too, with queues outside to match, but we had tasted Maria's cannoli by then and whilst delicious it was incredibly sweet!


After a good sit down and drink we met up with the rest and headed off to see a performance by Blue Man Group. I can't really describe the performance because it was like nothing I have ever seen, but basically there are 3 men dressed in blue who perform with drums and paint, do a form of silent slapstick comedy, ensure audience participation, and end up with so much toilet roll being thrown over the crowd that I was almost overwhelmed! There was some cringe-worthy elements that I just couldn't bear to watch! It was certainly different.



Icing on the cake....!

In the valley of Vinales the landscape is predominantly limestone and our first port of call was the Cueva del Indio, one of the largest cave systems in the Americas. Obviously not being a mole the thought of another cave was not high on my list of priorities but the optimum word is "largest"! So I forced myself in and it was truly spectacular. About 400m into the cave you meet a river, and a willing boatman! The best way to exit a cave is definitely by boat!


After being inside it was definitely time for outside and a 3 hour amble along the valley through the farms. The valley is littered with mogotes, a new word for me, translated as "haystacks" but effectively surreal mountains jutting out of the landscape formed by erosion over millions of years. It was great to just be in the landscape for once, wander through crops of pineapples, maize, avocados, and rice (tobacco is planted in November). We stopped at a farmer who had lots of pineapples and he made us a virgin piña colada, fresh as it could be. It was heaven. Some added rum but at 10:30am even I thought it was too early!


Heading back to Vinales, it wax apparent that this fast growing town was trying to attract tourists. The houses are all freshly painted and ready to be rented. Each porch having the obligatory rocking chairs that they seemed obsessed by, and in fact we probably pay a fortune for to recreate what we feel is the New England style!

 
One last vantage point and it was back to Havana for one last night.


As soon as we hit Havana I headed straight to the nearby posh hotel to find wi fi and catch up after almost 2 weeks of radio silence. I am not proud of my addiction to technology, I should be able to cope better without it, but the fact is I like to be connected! 

We had arranged for a final dinner at the luxury Hotel National de Cuba, which has an illustrious history. The hotel has it's own museum detailing those who have visited, especially during its heyday in the 1940's.


Bizarrely they seem to think that a visit from a one, Mr Ken Livingston is a notable affair! 

The hotel is also renowned for hosting a summit in 1946 for The Mob, run by Lucky Luciano and Meyer Lanski, who convinced Batista to actually give him part of the hotel so they could run it! It made more money in those days than Begas and obviously they were not best pleased when Castro eventually kicked them out!

Apparently I had been nominated to give the farewell speech. I agreed on the condition that no one else would do it.... No one else would! So either I am considered to be gobby or just too easy to persuade to step in. I am not sure which I think is the better option?! Luckily our focus was on other things, the icing on the cake, so no one minded a short and to the point speech! Because it had been noted that the hotel next to ours (my wi fi haven) was hosting the real Beuna Vista Social Club for concerts all that week. This group had been the height of Cuban fashion in the 1940's, and after 50 years were brought back together in the 1990's, most of them in their 80's, and to international acclaim were nominated and won various Grammy's etc. A few of us were eager to see them and blagged our way in. By the end of the evening we had danced the conga through the hotel and even been invited to dance on stage with them! Such fun, such music and so incredibly hot! What an end to a trip!


I am sorry Cuba....

When I arrived two weeks ago I was angry at having to be there. In fact I spent the first 3 days trying to plot my escape, but it was such a logistical nightmare I didn't get very far! 

When planning any trip you can only go on a best efforts basis, follow your heart, and organise what works from a timing and budgetary perspective. Cuba has been "on my list" for a while. Like a lot of people I wanted to see it now before the Castro regime comes to an end and significant changes occur. How, though, could I have know how much of an effect the first 8 days of my 5 week trip would have had on me? To be honest anywhere I went after my trip down the Canyon would have fallen short.


But Cuba waited, and slowly, with no pretentions, it reinforced its faded colonial and Art Deco self, it continued to provide musical interludes on every corner, its people smiled, interacted and cajoled involvement, from a quick "Hola!" to insisting that a fresh coconut become a Coco Loka, to teaching someone with two left feet the basics of salsa. 

Fidel Castro's system may be considered controversial. Cuba is certainly poor, but the people we met were content, smiling and proud. They acknowledge what they have (education / health care etc) but own up to the short comings (prices / housing shortages etc), but they are loyal to above all their history and their country. 

Cuba, thank you for your patience. I can honestly say that it paid dividends and that ultimately you charmed me. 

And it is with great fondness that I head off to my final adventure.....


I had to be cunning as a fox and faster than a whippet to navigate my way through Nassau airport in time to make my connection to Miami! But US immigration were no match for me, and I managed to talk my way back into the country....suckers!!!! All he did was ask where I had been enroute to that point.....ha ha! Don't think he was expecting "Well 4 weeks ago I left an island called Guernsey, blah, blah, blah"! Battered into submission!


A quick stop in Miami and then it was on to Boston. Although I almost refused to get off when the pilot announced a temperature of 9c. For the last 4 weeks it has been above 30c every single day. 9c!!!!! How I didn't shrivel up immediately upon arrival is beyond me! But I think I deserve extra brownie points for gamely preserving and heading into town where my 5 Guernsey amigos were waiting for me!