Puerto Montt, Puerto Varas and Frutillar, Chile

Wyona by the old mill

... the gardens in the rain ...

 ...a typical German house in Chile in the late 1800's ...

... under the water wheel ...

Friday, March 14, 2014

The tours off of the ships that are 8 hours and the 11 hours are arduous.

I have to explain, before someone mocks me.

Taking cruises is thrilling.

And a chance that no one should miss. But I noticed a couple on the front seat of the bus who have paid to have priority for that seat. The man rarely got off the bus. And this was a short 4 hour trip. At my age – OK, maybe a bit older -- stairs become arduous, balance is not good. A walk of 200 yards is becomes a matter of discussion. Wyona overheard a woman saying to her friend, “How far is 200 yards?” The woman may have forgotten, or perhaps never known. The other woman told her, “I know a football feet is 100 yards long, but I don’t know how to make the conversion.” Yup. Simple formulas becomes difficult.

On our tour through Puerto Montt, Puerto Varas and Fruitillar we passed colorful wooden shingled houses, drove by the neo-classical cathedral in Plaza de Armas and saw the picturesque Angelmo Fishing Wharf. At the charming town of Puerto Varas we saw Chile’s largest lake, I think 70 kilometers wide. Wyona and I spent some short minutes, too few, in the handicraft market.

The town of Frutillar has a regional museum, inside and outside, that celebrates the lives of 1 million Germans who emigrated to clear land, farm and establish themselves in Chile. The German style architecture is charming. I spent my time by the water wheel and in two of the homes. Greg visited the blacksmith shop. All of us walked the charming gardens – a lovely one hour stop over.

I think I am slow on the paths. I breathe to the bottom of my lungs and make by body climb hills.

While I feel old (at moments when I get out of a chair after a long sit) I know I am like a giselle compared to others.

 I didn’t realize that I take the cobbled stones in my stride, find myself stable on slopes slippery with water, and I need only one hand-rail instead of 2 to go down stairs.

On the return home others slept on the coach. I kept my eyes glued to the scenery out the bus window.

Passing through the port authority gates we snaked our way through a long line of people at the moor – the late minute shoppers who all want to get on the same tender at 4:30 pm. I don’t ever want to be left on the dock. On the other hand, I want to shop until 4:29 pm so as not to waste a precious minute of time when I could be looking at the Chilean crafts and Lapiz Lazuli jewellery.

 ...a miniature mock up of the German holdings in Chile ...

A ship’s employee uses a hand counter to check how many people are getting on the tender.

He radios to the ship – 223 passengers and 3 working crew are on the tender.

At every minute the ship know how many people are in transit, how many are on board, how many are yet to get on board.

While getting into the boat, Greg pointed out the top of the tender was open-seating. We climbed the ladder to the top of the tender. Such a wonderful ride. The wind in my face, the smell of the sea, the ship becoming larger and larger as we approached. In every language, people from the balconies shouting down words of welcome to their loved ones arriving in the last moments before departure.

Arta

April in Paris

I had only unpacked my suitcases and taken them out to the garage when Bonnie Wyona called and said, “Do you read on email? Aren’t I lucky. I am going to Paris with Rebecca (who is in Spain right now) and Bonnie.”

“What! Not without me!” That is all I could think of to say.

Since then I have been singing, “April in Paris, chestnuts in blossoms, holiday tables under the trees...” Thank you Frank Sinatra

And thank you Rebecca and Bonnie for letting me tag along. I didn’t allow myself to think about the adventure until just 20 minutes ago.

Now, I am paralyzed with happiness.

Arta

On Holidays

... cold and happy ...

On the trip to the penguin rookery, we have to you that we sat outside, on top of the catamaran, which holds 250 people.  Two hundred and forty of them were inside.  A hearty young German man who couldn’t speak English was outside.  Another man who was explaining something about Bountiful, Utah to a stranger who had asked him a question about it.  And another man, distinguished look, quiet, with an expensive camera sat across from us, but he was mostly looking in the same direction that we were looking.

We all opted to be out on the deck, rather than inside drinking hot chocolate and visiting with other tourists.  Just as we were to arrive at the viewing spot people came outside.  A woman came up to the man across from us and said, “Could you please move over so my friend and I could have this spot.”  He moved over.  I could see Wyona start to seethe.  And she gave me a poke in case I hadn’t noticed what was going on.  I went into my curious mode and thought, “Mmm, she is out here without any coat.  I wonder how long she can take the bitter wind that is brisker now because of the speed of the boat.”  I was even wondering if she would get pneumonia or bronchitis.

... so close, so close to the penguins ...

When everyone went back inside and the lonely but happy 10 of us were on top again and alone, Wyona leaned over to him and said, “You are so polite.  You are like my husband.  I watched what happened and I couldn’t believe it.  I wouldn't have given up my seat.”

He replied, “I didn’t want to confront her on this. You see,  I am on holidays.”  He smiled and went back to his camera, snapping pictures again.

Wyona and I have thought about this a lot.  

 And used his phrase a lot.   

Something untoward happens and one of us will say to the another, “we are on holidays”.   

A good way to live...for me.

Arta

The Sloth

We were in Cartagena, Columbia and the last stop was the market. One hour of shopping. “Hold onto your hats.” The bus driver was telling us that with good reason. A brisk wind comes off of the sea, the speed of which rivals the wind in Lethbridge. Stops like these feel like a bit of a ploy. Everyone is dropped off of the bus and taken into an emerald store. Instructions were given as to where to find other reputable emerald stores and then the passengers were given an hour to look around. We proceded to look around the larger market, splitting with Greg who went one one while we went the other.  A perfect loop.  We found each other half an hour later.

Greg said, “Do you have two dollars, Wyona. I want to get my picture taken with a sloth.”

She laughed.

"A sloth is my favorite animal"

“No, I really mean it. A sloth is my favorite animal.”

Because I snapped a picture and she snapped a picture, the owner of the sloth wanted $4.

Wyona had already paid him $2 but she reached into her wallet and gave him a ten, waiting for change.

 He only gave her back four, counting it out carefully in Spanish.

She doesn’t count in Spanish but she knows what change for a 10 should look like.

...travel adventures at their best ...

“No, you have that all wrong.

I am going to take back my ten and we are going to start all over,” she said, whipping it out of his hands.

He was miffed. He gave her back the right change. Someone else came around the corner to get their picture taken with the sloth. We were happy. We left with this most excellent picture for Greg.

Arta

My Best House

From David:

... my best house ...

I drew this at Kids Club. 

If you look closely you will find

- Barnaby my wolf

- an indoor ice rink

- Obsidian storage on the attic

- my bedroom with a furnace in it and a storage chest

- an indoor grassy area below an indoor pool

- a water slide that leads to an underground cave

- a large squid with blue tentacles outside the house by a tree

- lots of bunk beds for guests

- a lava room

It is the best house I have ever drawn.

David

War Horse .. Reprise

 From Mary Johnson

Image from National Theatre Website

I took my kids to see the National Theatre's HD Live production of War Horse.

All three of my kids.

Cathy told me she was taking her kids.

That clued me in to the fact that the broadcast was happening. And I remembered Arta telling me how much she loved the production.

The puppetry was spectacular to watch.

I had more than a few tear during the music moments. Those war time songs always get me where it hurts for some reason. While I want my kids to live in the present, I hope that in their life they will have a real appreciation of the world wars and what terrible times those were. We have our modern wars too, which are equally awful, but affect less of us personally than the world wars did.

During War Horse, I also  hearing the British folk tune that “If you could hie to Kolob” is based on.  Vaugh Williams took it and wrote some beautiful music based on the tune. We have an amazing organist in our ward and one Sunday this year we sang if you could hie to Kolob and afterward Xavier learned over to me and said, “that is a really cool song.” He is learning it with his piano teacher now.

John Tams wrote the lyrics for the melody as it is used in the play. Click here if you have a few minutes to listen to the ballad.

Here are some of the lyrics:

Cruel winter cuts through like the reaper, The old year lies withered and slain. Like Barleycorn who rose from the grave The new year will rise up again.
Chorus (after each verse): And the snow falls And the wind calls And the year turns round again
And I'll wager a hand full of guineas Against all of the songs you can sing: Some day you'll love and the next day you'll lose, And winter will turn into spring.
There will come a time of great plenty, A time of good harvest and song. Till then put your trust in tomorrow, my friend, For yesterday's over and done. Here are some other possible dates for encores of National Theatre's HD production of War Horse.  The times my be different in  your city.  Please check. Saturday April 19/14 at 12:30 pm Monday May 5/14 at 6:30pm Sunday May 11/14 at 12:55pm

Flat David Fencing

touché

Hello,

You may or may not know about "Flat David".

Here is a picture of him fencing in Victoria, B.C.

If you have not heard of Flat David you can see him first mentioned when he went to Victoria, B.C.

Go, Flat David.  Go!