tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63611948676118632152024-03-05T11:35:09.875-06:00Ron's Retirement AdventureTouring the world on my Suzuki VStrom.Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.comBlogger144125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-23435071904956865872019-09-13T09:00:00.001-05:002019-09-13T09:00:07.497-05:00TibetIt's been an interesting week of riding since my last post. There has been little time and less incentive to contribute to my blog, so I have some catching up to do----------<br />
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Our group consists of 10 motorcycle riders: three from Australia, two from Thailand, one from China (our guide), one from the USA (that's me), one from Taiwan, one from the Canary Islands, and one from Colombia. There are also several women riding on the back of the motorcycles: one from Colombia, two from Australia, one from Thailand, one from Taiwan, and my own Jessica who lives in Holland. We also have one support vehicle, a van, which carries our luggage. It is driven by a nice man from China. As you can see, we are quite a diverse group.<br />
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Here are Jessica and me stopped for a quick photo at the Yangtze River.<br />
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For the most part, the roads have been fast and smooth. You do have to be very careful of the stray cows, yaks, walkers, lorries, slow drivers, and other such obstacles. Jessica and I came within a whisker of hitting a calf that took a sudden notion to dart across the road. Our throwing on the brakes saved her; she was able to join her mamma safely.</div>
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The towns have been large, and getting through traffic has been a challenge. It takes a lot of lane splitting and aggressive riding to negotiate 10 motorcycles through traffic.</div>
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I have been very impressed with cities in China. Although most of them seem very large, they almost always have a well preserved "Old City". Sometimes our hotel was in the old city, and we usually had time to walk around and enjoy the shops and people.</div>
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Every evening people came out to exercise by dancing. These were normally women, but sometimes the men joined in.</div>
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Usually the roads were excellent, but on our first day riding up through the mountains toward Tibet, there had been so much rain that the road had been buried in landslides so that some of the routes we wanted to take had been closed to all traffic. </div>
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At one spot, we were the first in line at a landslide that had just happened. When the road finally opened, the women decided to walk through while we men slip-slided our motorcycles through. The women were smart. Here, daughter Jessica took my picture when it came my turn. It was quite difficult to negotiate the road, I can tell you.</div>
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We have been riding higher and higher into the mountains of Tibet. You can see glaciers on the distant mountains, and prayer flags just behind Jessica.</div>
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Buddhism is the main religion up here in Tibet, and there are many monasteries. The monks, like all the people, are very friendly. Can you see the monk in the center getting his picture taken with us? He loved it.</div>
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I wish I had time to show you all the pictures Jessica and I have taken. I can tell you that this has been a marvelous trip. It is my first time, ever, going with a group on a paid tour, but I can tell you that it has been a treat from beginning to end.</div>
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It has been a long day, but a very fine one. Goodnight for now.</div>
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Ron</div>
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Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-90163867655046456202019-09-07T20:08:00.000-05:002019-09-07T20:08:01.845-05:00 After staying around home for a year or two, trying to give my wife the limited amount of support I could as she dealt with her mother's failing health, I took a trip with my son, daughter-in-law, and a couple of my granddaughters to visit my daughter Jessica in Holland. Following that, I spent another year at home trying my best to give aid and comfort to my wife, Patrice, who continued to deal with her mother's health and finances. And then, in the summer of 2019, an opportunity came up where I could go by motorcycle from Thailand to Beijing, China. Patrice, the most supportive wife a man could ask for, encouraged me to do the trip.<br />
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I built enough time into my agenda so that I could visit some of the tourist "must do" sites in Southeast Asia. The picture above is the famous temple of Angkor Wat. Apparently the thing to do is catch the sunrise behind the temple, and get the reflections in the moat.</div>
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Exploring the floating markets is another thing that I enjoyed.</div>
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It would be too lengthy to post pictures of all the places I went to in Cambodia and Thailand, but the one above is the king's home in Bangkok.</div>
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Some of the ancient palaces and temples around Bangkok are so old, the trees have grown around the statues.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8o4cQMNjVCBoMB0J7esZ1ndDfIePzQqeWMIOMzlGVpGcjiWI_AoXFQ5F8Sz2Jnf2oOgjMi5HDlaZWEQUkX_NQriOwTHU857ufniPfWS1NKfiNcIbkNjHQg9AXh-Whz1PaSj2ISblIhm8/s1600/P1010770.dng" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8o4cQMNjVCBoMB0J7esZ1ndDfIePzQqeWMIOMzlGVpGcjiWI_AoXFQ5F8Sz2Jnf2oOgjMi5HDlaZWEQUkX_NQriOwTHU857ufniPfWS1NKfiNcIbkNjHQg9AXh-Whz1PaSj2ISblIhm8/s320/P1010770.dng" width="213" /></a></div>
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The Buddha seems to be everywhere. Here, he is seated on a snake. There is quite a story associated with that image. I learned that the Buddha is mostly shown in one of five or so poses. The Buddha image above, with his hands folded, is the contemplative Buddha.</div>
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There are both wild and tame elephants all through southeast Asia. They are very peaceful and intelligent animals, and they very much enjoy a bath in the river.</div>
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After I had explored Cambodia and Thailand for several weeks, the other people going on our trip started arriving. We gathered in a town named Chiang Rai, and then went by van to the northern Thai city of Chiang Kong where we got our motorcycles. Mine will be a bmw, We will have 9 motorcycles, one support vehicle to carry our luggage, a small trailer that can carry a motorcycle in case of a breakdown, and 5 women riding along on the bikes. My daughter, Jessica, will be one of them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQKDNrj7FdTv1BZKA8WY1LOIsEuNFBHngapjCjqzOFoaFqPMtJZOPEgV9gn5m5g6Hftol9uxstt9uTG1DyaM3hLSDPla2NineFOhvjzUhZ1pdVfQq-QSe4JNTK7TjNYQlu1fd_47p2pHI/s1600/Publication1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="252" data-original-width="298" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQKDNrj7FdTv1BZKA8WY1LOIsEuNFBHngapjCjqzOFoaFqPMtJZOPEgV9gn5m5g6Hftol9uxstt9uTG1DyaM3hLSDPla2NineFOhvjzUhZ1pdVfQq-QSe4JNTK7TjNYQlu1fd_47p2pHI/s400/Publication1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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After getting all sorted out, we spent the first night together in a beautiful hotel on the banks of the Mekong River. On the other side of the river we could see the lights of Laos. The next day was a long one of dealing with custom agents going from Thailand into Laos, and then from Laos into China. It required visas in our passports, money exchanging hands, special driver/s licenses (China won't give a motorcycle license to anyone over 55, which we all are. During all this, I had my 76th birthday, making me the old man of the group.</div>
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I think Jessica is the youngest, although I could be mistaken about that. Two other women in our group is about her age.</div>
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China is a clean, modern, beautiful country. If there is a drawback, it would be dealing with traffic in large cities. Now, though, after three days of hard driving, we are in the old city of Lijiang. It is a delightful place. We had a marvelous time looking around last night, and today is a "free day? to relax and explore. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitBcXLG580y34GVsrJRPE6FHcRYQT8PY2E1zXBb1u4R50MWW2Xv_WGNSz-9831Z5jYfXZeyRe8ZCRbRWykgTH0n0Xu_hyphenhyphen3ylBmQeo4FeMdNBZme2gQk12k7yri3pYujG9GcOiOGaflguI/s1600/_1020365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitBcXLG580y34GVsrJRPE6FHcRYQT8PY2E1zXBb1u4R50MWW2Xv_WGNSz-9831Z5jYfXZeyRe8ZCRbRWykgTH0n0Xu_hyphenhyphen3ylBmQeo4FeMdNBZme2gQk12k7yri3pYujG9GcOiOGaflguI/s400/_1020365.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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This is our hotel. Now, after a good sleep late morning, it is time for us to go down, get breakfast, and find out what this city has to offer. So, talk with you later.</div>
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Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-36060376490571171232017-07-01T22:22:00.000-05:002017-07-01T22:22:14.993-05:00Siberia againI came back from Ulaanbaatar and went for a last time from Mongolia into Russia through the customs gauntlet. I must be getting pretty good at doing this, because it keeps getting easier and easier. This time, not only did I know the steps to go through, but everyone was smiling and helpful. One thing that made it much easier than going from Mongolia into Russia over by Kazakhstan was that it was much less crowded. And a more important factor was that the agent I had to deal with in getting the forms filled out for my motorcycle was a very patient woman who spoke good English and who had just me to take care of. I wish I had a picture of her. She was quite lovely and reminded me of a favorite cousin.<br />
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I stayed the night back at a hotel I ha used in Ulan Ude when I was there before. The next day I started riding on east toward Vladivostok. By this time I was very anxious to get there. It seemed that there were several other riders on the road as well, either going to or coming from Vladivostok.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLyzsKSUWgOmPlG3AXoq3ZngKoLx2b_KMeXDe3mFDPEe0-f0D_jdjnjaYAT9Tn9UIvgMwGGAHw7MuZ0yITdvvlhgH7KGAZS9Eu9gOVyw5vRYqBHpxBPGBXqcDqN3JyFaQYTQz8GFlxU0/s1600/P1000387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLyzsKSUWgOmPlG3AXoq3ZngKoLx2b_KMeXDe3mFDPEe0-f0D_jdjnjaYAT9Tn9UIvgMwGGAHw7MuZ0yITdvvlhgH7KGAZS9Eu9gOVyw5vRYqBHpxBPGBXqcDqN3JyFaQYTQz8GFlxU0/s400/P1000387.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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This young man from Korea was riding a tiny motor scooter toward Mongolia. He said top speed on the thing was 45 KPH (about 25 miles per hour), so he was going to have a lot of days ahead of him before he got there. I bet he has an easier time of the Mongolian gravel roads than I did.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcsMKpHY8TfvSDrOz7Gfv_058-MvoRQCnjzas2vQlpXYUS1wO_LXoV0lXJowMJlmYn5fnSDx_q9nAZ5viRuuEf2v-0ttJ8sHtK5fqLYIPgF6X9sMxa1uy2A5dX3HaWdlh2ifFQTCf06VY/s1600/IMG_0572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcsMKpHY8TfvSDrOz7Gfv_058-MvoRQCnjzas2vQlpXYUS1wO_LXoV0lXJowMJlmYn5fnSDx_q9nAZ5viRuuEf2v-0ttJ8sHtK5fqLYIPgF6X9sMxa1uy2A5dX3HaWdlh2ifFQTCf06VY/s400/IMG_0572.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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There are enormous distances to cover going across this eastern part of Siberia, and there are very few places to eat, sleep or get gas. I was scared several times that I was going to run out of fuel. I carried a gallon can of extra gas with me, but even with that I wasn't sure I could make it to the next gas station. I soon got in the habit of stopping at every gas station I came to and topping up, even if I only needed a few liters. I was flagged down once by another rider who was going just the opposite way of me, from and not to Vladivostok. He had just ran out of gas and had put his extra fuel into his motorcycle, but he was worried about where the next station would be. He was relieved when I told him I had just topped up two kilometers ago.<br />
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Not only did I see a lot of cars out of gas, but also a lot of cars pulled off doing emergency repairs. Take a look at this sign. These "parks" were every 100 km or so. At first, I thought the car on the sign was going across a bridge.<br />
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But no, there is a much more basic reason for the car on the bridge.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXVT97TKUu46eLK5GL8ORcEKysSuHCLrpW28N6pH9wdvRLH_XQCBMqyYHcds1B2j7xiTITDMiCan7PX9vDeYKjpgKgfHOh-6yaNlwS3PtM4XE9HVG8dt0ngmkAMqXcTECCBkuN7m7Rhsk/s1600/P1000510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXVT97TKUu46eLK5GL8ORcEKysSuHCLrpW28N6pH9wdvRLH_XQCBMqyYHcds1B2j7xiTITDMiCan7PX9vDeYKjpgKgfHOh-6yaNlwS3PtM4XE9HVG8dt0ngmkAMqXcTECCBkuN7m7Rhsk/s400/P1000510.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I had to pull off into these "parks" a couple of times to work on Odysseus, but I never put him up on the ramp. Instead, I just laid down on the ground and adjusted his chain which kept on stretching out longer and longer and was starting to clatter and jump.<br />
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One evening, as it was getting late, I passed one of the rare roadside hotels. I looked at it, but it was not fit for a pig to live in. Keying in "lodging" into my GPS, I found that the next roadside hotel was 200 km onward. That was too far to go that night, but the GPS also said there were two other hotels in a small town not far away. To get there, I would have to take a service road into the town. I thought that was a little strange, but my GPS often has me do crazy things.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9k62432EMChnFaIH89ZbexTWq8y1new1vhUHTUtbPDpplGMBk2NPfXzeKSGlia6fpe6czYeEKUxg2nYKTxO29IIQ_tl5vqpHsLp1aEUb8_bXgnFhavZA6daHewM9k3pvXLA0w42XldmQ/s1600/P1000522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9k62432EMChnFaIH89ZbexTWq8y1new1vhUHTUtbPDpplGMBk2NPfXzeKSGlia6fpe6czYeEKUxg2nYKTxO29IIQ_tl5vqpHsLp1aEUb8_bXgnFhavZA6daHewM9k3pvXLA0w42XldmQ/s400/P1000522.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The next thing I know I am surrounded by police officers and made to sit in the anti-room of a chair while a steady stream of officers, both male and female came by to ask me questions, all of them in Russian which I did not understand a word of. However, by this time I had it figured out that this small town was being turned into the newest Russian cosmodrome for their space program. Finally they located a girl in town who spoke perfect English. She came and acted as my interpreter. She is the one in blue closest to the camera. I never did catch her name, but she reminded me of my granddaughter Angela, although she is 27 and my granddaughter is still a teenager.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh20YgyxF7I6ByV0POPYMhSm1Nn-EmgF-cRIJi42x05OvUO1eWSFuX4gkqUQ_9OvdChRNZmqqg_14zQznkTQTmf_lTipd-OBEXdtvWqMZskZBqN-eBEg3lKINDISR7Nyr2o509JpjMObB0/s1600/IMG_0575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh20YgyxF7I6ByV0POPYMhSm1Nn-EmgF-cRIJi42x05OvUO1eWSFuX4gkqUQ_9OvdChRNZmqqg_14zQznkTQTmf_lTipd-OBEXdtvWqMZskZBqN-eBEg3lKINDISR7Nyr2o509JpjMObB0/s400/IMG_0575.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The girl behind me in the picture was named Elena. Notice her camera? From what I could figure out she is the editor of the local newspaper. I think maybe the story will make the front page. My interpreter girl told me that the police were sure I was not a spy, but they could not figure out what to do with me. It seems nothing like this had ever happened there before. I could not quite decide what there was there for a spy to see anyway. After about three hours of this, and after my interpreter signed an affidavit that she was convinced I was telling the truth, and after I signed my confession, we all went outside again. Whew! I thought for a while there that I was going to have to call the U.S. embassy. I still was not free to leave though, because an escort to take me out of town had to be arranged.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAham7rPyeaBJzz84hjUIQ6Sop88Q7lV8bbKQkP90jqKtmLquyibQa7dlBbn2ZHMhi3jIaDhSGEHftgXnqYVMK0dyEjhFpIK30TQRknukjSwHaUEOaLn7BaBgkbTVWyNYyn-tfzmCC2XA/s1600/IMG_0574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAham7rPyeaBJzz84hjUIQ6Sop88Q7lV8bbKQkP90jqKtmLquyibQa7dlBbn2ZHMhi3jIaDhSGEHftgXnqYVMK0dyEjhFpIK30TQRknukjSwHaUEOaLn7BaBgkbTVWyNYyn-tfzmCC2XA/s400/IMG_0574.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Meanwhile people kept coming up to get their pictures taken with me: grandmothers who gave me a hug, and kids to sit on my motorcycle. Elena has those pictures. I didn't dare to get out my own camera.<br />
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Finally, escort arranged, I was taken through the front checkpoint and we all went up to the hotel on the hill outside the town. The one that was not fit for a pig.<br />
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My room at the hotel smelled terrible. Looking out my window I could see why. Look at this wet insulation on the roof just by my room.<br />
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It was easy to see where the insulation came from. The ceiling was falling in. Notice that the smoke detector has fallen apart.<br />
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Maybe it was the falling smoke detector that broke the back of the TV. It didn't make much difference because the TV did not work anyway.<br />
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The shower was across the hall, but be careful not to fall through the hole in the floor.<br />
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I discovered the hole in the floor quite by accident. There wasn't much light out there.<br />
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The toilet was in a room next door to the shower.<br />
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I have to say that I have traveled all over the world, and this was by far the worst place I've ever stayed. I thought about camping, but it was raining. So, with the next hotel over two hours away in the dark, my choices were limited.<br />
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However, looky, after long days of riding I made it to my goal: Vladivostok. Cloudy, isn't it?<br />
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My original plan was to take the ferry from here to South Korea, but it turned out the next ferry that could take Odysseus was not for 10 days. It also tuned out the ferry was going to be $250 for me and an additional $750 or so for Odysseus. Plus, I would have 10 days of hotel bills while I waited. And, after all that, it would still cost me over a thousand dollars to fly the motorcycle to Canada. I decided that it might be better to ship it directly fro Vladivostok to Vancouver. Fortunately, the man at DBS ferry knew Yuri of Links, Ltd. Yuri had a container of three bikes, with room for mine also, heading by ship in two weeks. He came to my hotel to get me, and we took Odysseus to get him cleaned up for Canadian customs.<br />
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Showroom clean and smelling good, Odysseus was loaded into a van for transport to a warehouse.<br />
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Here is a picture of Yuri and me. Those are motorcycles crated up to go to Korea. Odysseus will not need a crate because he gets to sleep in a metal container with three other bikes on his own trip to Vancouver.<br />
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All of my extra gear gets to ride with Odysseus, so that just leaves me with a small carry on bag for my flight home tomorrow. Bye Odysseus. I'll miss you, but I will see you in Vancouver in about a month and then we will ride home across the U.S. together.<br />
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Here is one last Chinese beer to celebrate the end of this long trip across Russia. Now, lets just hope there are no last minute problems with customs for either the motorcycle or me as we leave for home.<br />
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Bye for now,<br />
Ron<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-45440298370143552012017-06-24T09:13:00.002-05:002017-06-24T09:13:50.749-05:00Mongolia from the northI left Ulan Ubi early because I knew I was going to have to go through Russian/Mongolian customs on the way down to Ulaanbaatar, and that would require 6 hours. The road in Russia was mostly pretty good, interspersed with mile after dusty mile of sand and gravel. Once in Mongolia (surprise, surprise) the road got good again. Northern Mongolia is actually quite pretty, green and hilly. Gotta watch out for livestock though, so don't be admiring the scenery and not paying attention.<br />
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U.B. was not at all what I expected. I thought it would be a smallish big town with cows on the street. I guess it was that way 10 years ago, but now it is an enormous city with some of the worst traffic I've ever seen. I decided to park the motorcycle in the hotel's shed and to take a tour instead. That turned out to be a good decision. The first thing the tour went to was a giant statue of Gengis Kahn who is the country's hero and, I guess you could say, the country's father, sort of like how George Washington is the father of America. The statue is way out in the country (I never was able to figure why) and the roads to it are mostly pretty bad.<br />
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To show you how big the statue is, I took a telephoto shot of people up on the horse's neck.<br />
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Our tour group eventually got there on that horse's neck ourselves. The people in the picture are from various parts of Canada, but they didn't know each other. The guy just to my left in the red shirt was our tour guide. Interestingly enough, he once lived in Illinois and worked in a program for kids ran by Jessie White, Illinois' Secretary of State.<br />
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Down in the belly of the statue you can dress up and sit in a Mongol throne.<br />
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You see eagles in the skies all over Mongolia, and they often get captured, tied down by a leather leash, and made to pose for pictures. I don't like to encourage such goings on because eagles should be free; still, I wanted to see one close up. They are huge.<br />
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There are also a lot of wolves in Mongolia, or so I am told. I never saw one alive and running after some of those many sheep, but I did get to see a lot of their skins hanging by front doors. Maybe the skins are good luck charms. I don't know though, because the poor wolf wasn't too lucky to get himself shot.<br />
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I guess the two hump Bactrian camel once used to be all over Mongolia. Now, I think they are mostly seen a couple of hundred miles south in the Gobi desert.<br />
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Mostly these days there are sheep, goats, cows and horses, but there are a lot of yak also.<br />
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I guess they are a little bit mean. I couldn't get any closer without the beast warning me away. Anyway, I don't have time to be yaking about things because our tour guide wants to take us up to the Buddhist shrine down the road in the National Park.<br />
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One of the ladies in our 5 person group thinks she is going to be sore tomorrow.<br />
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It's a nice view from up there in the shrine.<br />
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The next day we went to the main shrine. It is in the heart of U.B. It was a special day, but I never could get it straight just what the occasion was. The main monk gave a nice long speech.<br />
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I guess it was a good speech because nobody in the audience fell asleep.<br />
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Even the band seemed alert and ready to play.<br />
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Well, maybe some eyes were starting to sag a little. The instrument with two strings to bow that old droopy eyes is holding is a "horsehead" violin. Here is a big one. Look at the top of the instrument and maybe you can see why it is called horsehead.<br />
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Hoses, by the way, are very revered in Mongolia. Kids learn how to ride when they are five or younger. I wish I could be here next month when all around the country there are big fairs where 7 year old kids ride as hard as their horses can go on a cross country race. I don't remember the exact distance of the race, but it is something like 20 kilometers (12 miles). That is nothing by Mongol standards, because the longest horse race in the world is in Mongolia and it is 1,000 km.<br />
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Anyway, time to go get some pictures in the monastery; we can let the head monk drone on without us. What do you think of this huge Buddha?<br />
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That statue must be 20 feet tall. I think I like the smaller guys better.<br />
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There are several smaller shrines in the monastery, and church services were going on it some of them. I felt out of place walking around while people were praying, but our guide said it was okay.</div>
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After several days in U.B., I rode back to Russia and I am in the same Ulan Ude hotel I left from days ago. Tomorrow I head on east toward Vladivostok. Time to mark out my route. Here is one last picture of the monastery in U.B. Goodnight.</div>
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-62093938043990328252017-06-24T07:55:00.003-05:002017-06-24T08:00:00.958-05:00Ulan Udi and Lake BaikalI am still riding east across Siberia. This is a huge, but also hugely beautiful, part of Russia. I came by Lake Baikal and stayed the night in place that I saw a sign for along the highway. You never know what you are going to get when you stop at one of these places. My GPS led me way off the road to get to the hotel, and usually when it does that I wind up going back because the road gets terrible. Not in this case, however, because what the hotel turned out to be was a gorgeous ski resort high up over Lake Baikal. It is summer, of course, so no skiing is going on, but there were a lot of people there anyway. Obviously I did not take this winter picture of the ski resort.<br />
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I had planned to camp along the shores of Lake Baikal but I wound up staying in the ski resort instead. Still, it was fun seeing Lake Baikal. It is huge, and as clear as its reputation says it is.<br />
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All I had read said that I should stop at Ulan Udi which I was told was a good place to visit Lake Baikal from. As it turned out, Ulan Udi is a huge, beautiful and clean city, but it is also quite far from Lake Baikal. However, it did have other interesting things to see and do, one of them being a park with pioneer buildings in it.<br />
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It was kind of fun wandering around and taking pictures of the way things were in Siberia around 1920 or so.<br />
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Another must do thing in Ulan Udi is to visit the brand new Tibetan Buddhist monastery up on the hill overlooking the city.<br />
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Do you recognize the guy in this next picture. Yep, its the Dalai Lama. He "okay-ed" the construction of this monastery, and was here to open it when it was done.<br />
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I got to attend a church service while I was there. It was pretty interesting, but far different from the one I went to in Vietnam. It that one, the place was very dark except for a single tiny light, and there we all sat quietly and meditated. It this one here in Ulan Udi, there was a lot of singing and chanting. The singing was "throat singing". You will have to look up "throat singing" on Youtube if you want to hear a sample.<br />
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There are some pretty cool statues inside the church. Again, I have to say that this Tibetan Buddhism is a lot different than the kind practiced in China. There, the fog of incense is thick and the churches are dark inside. <br />
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Also, in this Tibetan Buddhism there seems to be a lot of emphasis on prayer wheels and prayer flags. Whereas in China you would buy a stick of incense to carry your prayers to heaven, here it is done with flags which are often placed outdoors in memory of loved ones.<br />
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I stopped here in Ulan Ude on purpose because it is from here that the road goes south to Ulaan Baatar, the capitol of Mongolia. I wasn't able to negotiate the paths to U.B. across the mountains from the west, so now I will find out it it is better coming in from the north. Wish me luck.<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-86520977440388053282017-06-13T07:46:00.000-05:002017-06-13T07:46:17.962-05:00A failed attempt to navigate through MongoliaCrossing the border from Russia into Mongolia was quite the frustrating experience. It took 5 hours to cut through all the red tape, going from one window to another and from one checkpoint to the next. One of the problems was that the Mongolian and Kazach bus drivers, who all seem to know one another, kept jumping the line while holding a fist full of passports belonging to the passengers in their vehicles. At one point, as the border guards were going through my luggage, they started asking for my "Emergency Book" for the ambulance. I had no idea what they wanted from me and tried showing them my insurance certificates and my emergency transport cards, none of which they wanted. Finally they located my first aid kit: "Ah", they said, "Emergency book." What they seemed to want was to make sure I didn't have any syringes with morphine in them.<br />
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Once through, I was instantly set upon by people wanting to sell me insurance, change my money, act as a guide, rent me a place to sleep, sell me a meal. One guy on a motorcycle was especially persistent and tailed me for miles trying to get me to stop and buy stuff.<br />
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The Mongolian roads were nice in spots, wash board rough in other spots, and a true mess much of the time.<br />
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I was trying to follow a main highway across Mongolia to Ulan Bator, the capital. You gotta be careful because there are cows, sheep, goats and horses all over the place.<br />
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Mongolia is the land of the yerts or yurts. They are a pretty good place to spend the night.<br />
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The yurts that the family live in are often carpeted and ornate inside. The ones rented out, though, were often shared by six or so men and women. That was okay by me, but I needed to blow up my sleeping pad and my pillow for the hard beds. I am such a spoiled old man.<br />
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The road I was trying to follow is supposed to be a major one, but about 80 miles of it is not paved. Sometimes I followed big trucks who threw up huge clouds of dust. At other times I went up thick sand berms. It was a struggle. Once, while going through a town, some kids were blocking the road, and one of them, a boy of about 12, shoved my bike from the side. I felt it, but didn't go over, thank goodness. Later, I encountered that same boy and he picked up a big rock and acted like he was going to throw it at me. I don't know if he did throw it or not. At any rate, it didn't hit me. No picture of him, but here is a picture of the road at one of the many water crossings.<br />
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The road kept getting smaller, and I was really worried that I could not do the full 80 miles of it before I was due to hit asphalt again. Suddenly I ran into a narrow stretch of fist sized rocks, and, bam, just like that I was down.<br />
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Th crash sheared off my center stand, and that is something I will really miss having. Fortunately I merely bruised my ankle on a big rock and didn't break it. That was good because I needed my entire body to function as I picked up the bike. And, as it turned out, I had to unload everything to get it up. To make matters worse, after I got it up, and as I tried to get it going straight again, it flipped over on its other side.<br />
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As you can see from the pictures, there were no vehicles coming from either direction. There was a herd of yaks passing by however.<br />
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With no other vehicles on this "major road" and with miles and miles to go before I got to the "good road" I decided to turn back and go around the north side of Mongolia to Lake Baikal where my map shows a tarmac road down to Ulan Bator. Unfortunately that meant going through customs again; five hours again.<br />
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So, now I am back in the Altai region of Siberia. I went west, back through the big, snow covered mountains that had so impressed me as I rode east days ago.<br />
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As soon as I cleared the mountains, he turned north and east. I was still in the Altai region of Siberia, but the hills were much smaller. I liked them a lot. They reminded me of the Ozarks in Arkansas.<br />
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Mostly, the roads here are the nicest I've found in Russia. Maybe that is because there is not a great deal of heavy traffic to tear them up. The people are nice too, and seem to want to help me. I try to talk to them with Google Translate, and I wonder if the translations they see of mine look as funny as those I see of theirs. I mean, what is "fur coat soup"? The cities are nice too. One I stayed in, Biysk, had a big party going on -- I think it was "Signing of the Russian Constitution" day or something. Unfortunately for them it was raining. I tried walking around on the river walk, but the rain kind of made most people stay inside except during the rare moments of clearing.<br />
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It turns out that Siberia is far from the bleak area I had pictured from my reading of the days when Stalin exiled his political prisoners here. The cities and countryside are absolutely lovely. I mean, who but happy people would put up this whimsical elephant on their walking paths?<br />
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I loved this bench. Notice that it slants to the center so that lovers have no choice but to cuddle together. Also, notice the locks lovers have put on it.<br />
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Several of the streets were blocked off when I arrived in town, and I could not get through to my hotel. A policeman noticed that I was having trouble, and he flagged down a passing cop car to lead me through the bottlenecks. How nice is that? Don't be confused by the blue skies in this picture. I took it the following morning. Still, you can see how wet the streets still were.<br />
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I spent way too much over budget for both my hotel and my evening meal, but both were worth every penny. Around 10 pm, after the rain had stopped, they set off the most dynamic aerial fireworks display I've ever seen.<br />
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Something I did not tell you was that, as I was coming around a curve while leaving Mongolia, I suddenly found myself in the middle of a herd of cows. I almost hit one in its right rear quarter, and would have too had it not suddenly jumped out of the way, spraying cow diarrhea all over the right side of both Odysseus and me. Yuck. What an embarrassing predicament that was. This morning, while buying gas, I asked the girls in the station, by Google Translate, where I could wash my motorcycle. Laughing, they showed me that there was a car wash attached to the station and manned by two teenage boys. They did a marvelous job washing Odysseus, and now he purrs like a kitten and runs like a cheetah.<br />
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My 5 star hotel last night, the only hotel I could find, cost me a budget busting $114.00. Tonight I am in one that I like just as well and it only cost me $14.00. I guess things average out. <br />
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I think I will be to Lake Baikal is another two days -- distances are so vast here in Russia. I guess my next post might be from there, but don't hold your breath waiting.<br />
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Ron<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-35974485631665531422017-06-06T11:59:00.002-05:002017-06-06T11:59:29.580-05:00Riding through SiberiaI haven't posted anything since Djin and I left Moscow in the cold, miserable rain. That seems like ages ago. Since then, the weather has cleared up and it has gotten much warmer, especially after I crossed the Ural Mountains into Siberia. At first, riding through Siberia was like riding through Minnesota, tabletop flat with lots of bogs and lakes and trees growing in patches. Maybe because it was still early in the season, but there was nothing growing in the enormous fields. There were also no farmhouses. Instead, all the people were in small villages which were scattered from time to time along the road.<br />
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One of my favorite things has been meeting the people. The first thing they always seem to want to know is where I am from, and they are surprised to find out that I am from the USA, although the initials USA are meaningless to them, but they certainly understand when I say I am from America.<br />
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This tall young man wanted to practice his English with me, and talked with me for the longest time at a gas station. The gas station lady came out and took our picture. I'm 6'2", so I am considered tall, but he is NBA material.<br />
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I stayed one night at a large lake which, they proudly told me, is considered "the little Bikal". By that time, my bike was filthy and I borrowed a bucket and washed it with lake water.<br />
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A family with two young kids stopped to talk with me. I let the kids sit on my bike. Aren't they cute?<br />
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My tires were starting to get some miles on them. They were still okay and would take me as far as Ulan Bator in Mongolia, but I got afraid that I would not be able to find tires there, and then what would I do. I stopped in Barnaul, a huge city with about 20 motorcycle shops, none of which I could located. Not knowing what to do to find tires, I stopped in a hardware store to ask for directions. The staff there was so nice. They printed me out a map, gave me a gift of a key chain with a built in screwdriver, and finally the young co-owner got in his company car and led me out to look for tires. That's him, Alexander, on the right. I didn't get the name of the young lady behind the desk, but she was working at the first motorcycle shop we went to.<br />
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It turns out my bike requires a rather unusual size tire by Russian standards. The girl got on the phone and finally located what are apparently the only two tires of my size in that huge city. Alexander led me across town to find the shop, and I have to say that without his help I never would have located it. It was in the back of a building, up and concrete ramp into the building, and down a dark, dark hallway. It was the strangest ride I've ever done. The shop was a filthy looking place, but the old man who changed my tires (and oil) sure knew what he was doing with his primitive equipment.<br />
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The tires are knobbies, and this is the first time my motorcycle, Odysseus, has ever had shoes like that. The tires are 40% road and 60% off road tires, which I am told I will be glad I have once I get to Mongolia. I will say they handle fine on the tarmac and give me a lot more confidence when in the gravel.<br />
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As I left Barnaul, the road passed through deep forests. Soon I was riding through swarms of white butterflies.<br />
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Those guys committed suicide by the hundreds against various parts of both Odysseus and me.<br />
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I was passing along through the Altai District of Siberia which lies between Kazakhstan and Mongolia. Gradually the rode rose up out of the forests and followed a river higher and higher.<br />
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Soon I started seeing snow on the mountains.<br />
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At one mountain pass there were the souvenir stands that always seem to crop up at such places.<br />
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These two guys from Austria were taking a break there. They had just came from Ulan Bator by the northern route and were headed back to Moscow and on home to Austria. There are three routes across Mongolia. The northern route, they told me, is sandy desert with no marked roads and very little gas. They have me convinced to do the middle route.<br />
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All day long I have had to be careful rounding curves in the road because you never know what is going to be camped out in the middle of the road: horses, cows, sheep, goats, or even another vehicle. Gotta stay alert boy.<br />
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I am stopped for the night at the last town of any size before the Mongolian border. It has perhaps 10,000 inhabitants and absolutely no restaurants. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that they had WiFi here. That is very rare in these small villages. My bedroom is fine, but I can't say there is a scenic view. That is a street down there, and every so often a car goes down it.<br />
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I have to say that the view from last night's window was better.<br />
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So, no more internet until I ride the 1,000 miles to Ulan Bator. I will post again from there, and maybe I will have some cool pictures.<br />
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RonRon Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-61428563916421181592017-05-28T14:38:00.000-05:002017-05-28T14:38:02.585-05:00I've really enjoyed MoscowMy riding companion, Djin Sital, and I rode from St. Petersburg to Moscow through some of the worst traffic I've ever encountered. The roads were chock-a-bloc full of lorries going 45 miles an hour, all supervised by police who had portable cameras installed a quarter mile before their "gotcha sucker" checkpoints. It must have been rush hour, although it was only about 2:30 pm, when we got to Russia. I heard from one source that there are 14.5 million people in Moscow, and from another source that there are 20 million people. Whichever number is right, that is a lot of humanity jammed into something like an estimated 9 million cars, each car wanting to drive right in front of us.<br />
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To add to the city traffic, there is a lot of construction going on. There are two reasons for this, or so I am told: First, they are getting ready to host the World Cup Games and are expecting tons of visitors; and secondly, it snowed here two weeks ago, and is expected to snow again in just 4 months, so they have a short working season.<br />
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I have to report though, that Moscow is far from the bleak, drab city of unhappy folks I had heard it was. Instead, it is super clean and very dynamic.<br />
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Everyone is hard at work, including the ladies who are willing to do somethings people in America won't: to take a broom and a dust pan and sweep sidewalks and gutters for minimum wage.<br />
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One of the first things Djin and I wanted to do was visit Red Square.<br />
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At one end of Red Square is the famous St. Basil Cathedral.<br />
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Basil was a homeless person way back during the time of Tzar Ivan the Terrible. He wandered around naked, even in winter, but was well respected, even by that cruel Tzar, because he could tell the future and perform miracles. No pictures of him, of course, but here is a icon of him from inside the Cathedral.<br />
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They buried Basil and started building churches over him. I think there are nine churches inside St. Basil Cathedral. With that many churches inside, you can imagine that they are little things, and that the Cathedral is a cut-up affair.</div>
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They say that when a Tzar did something bad he had to build a church. There must have been a lot of bad guys back then, because Moscow is a city absolutely teaming with churches.</div>
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Another famous landmark on Red Square is the Kremlin. The word "Kremlin" simply means fortress, and just about every city in Russia worth being on the map has one. The one in Russia is by far the largest and most famous.</div>
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Directly across Red Square from the Kremlin is the GUM (rhymes with loom) department store.</div>
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Back in the Communist Era, the GUM store was turned into a state run store that was infamous for never having anything on the shelves. Today, it is a mall with a bunch of upscale shops like Gucci and Armani and so forth.</div>
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I think Moscow has a bunch of trendy malls. I happened into one near the train station when I stopped in to sample their food court for lunch. I am not very good at posting videos, but I am going to try this one. You may have to turn your monitor sideways. It shows all the activity in, around, and over a central restaurant.</div>
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I have very much enjoyed my time at Moscow -- touring the Vatican, visiting Gorky Park, riding around on the metro and buses. I also had some fun trying to take night pictures at Red Square.</div>
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But all good things eventually come to an end, so this morning, early on a drizzly Sunday, Djin and I got on our bikes and headed East toward Mongolia. After and hour we were out of Moscow (finally -- whew, what a big city). The longer we rode, the colder it got, and soon we could see our ow breaths. After a time, Djin signaled me over and told me he had decided he wanted to head toward the warm climate of Turkey, and from there circle back to Holland. I think the traffic and the temperature were both big factors in his decision. Also, he knew he was going to have to get his bike back to Holland someway, and although his original plan was to ship it back on the Trans Siberian Train, more research had convinced him that option was simply going to be prohibitively expensive. He had been talking about doing this split-off toward the south for several days, so today's decision was no great surprise. We will follow each other's ride on FaceBook, and I wish him a safe journey home.</div>
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By early afternoon the drizzle stopped, but I have to say my heated clothing felt great. And by 6:30 I was crossing the Volga River. Only a month or so to go before I reach Vladivostok. Gads, what a vast country.</div>
Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-5239405718034231322017-05-22T13:06:00.001-05:002017-05-22T13:06:30.068-05:00The Palaces of Saint PeterburgI have been going out each day looking at the many, many palaces here in Saint Petersburg. They are what make Saint Petersburg one of the most beautiful cities on Earth, or so I'm told. The nobles who built these things were rich beyond imagination. This one is Peterhof.<br />
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Inside, the palaces were absolutely stunning.<br />
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And while the royalty lived like this, the peasants were thrown in jail for life if they stole so much as a loaf of bread to feed their starving families. Of course, this was true not only for Russia, but throughout Europe back in those days.<br />
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I guess I might have qualified as a peasant myself because I could not even have afforded the floor in a single room of a palace.<br />
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And look at this library. Of course, since the books were written in Russian it would not have done me any good. Still, I'm jealous (not really).<br />
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Catherine the Great, who had been dead a long time before the Bolsheviks took over her castle, had a beautiful home with about a thousand rooms in it. Now, it is the famous Hermitage Museum. This was the main entrance for Catherine, and it is still used for the museum today.<br />
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I enjoyed looking at the beautiful rooms in the Hermitage, but there were some art works in there also that I had to pay a little bit of attention to. This is, I guess, the most famous of them. It is by Leonardo Da Vinci.<br />
I was a little surprised that there was nowhere inside where I could not take a picture.<br />
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Outside, there were lots of people dressed up in period costume. They were willing to pose with you for a fee. There were also a lot of carriages from the period. I especially liked this one -- Look out Cinderella, you might not make it to the ball tonight without your carriage.<br />
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I've been having a little trouble with the language here. Not only are the words alien to me, but I don't really understand the alphabet. Look at this sign at a fence around a fountain.<br />
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Fortunately I downloaded a translation app to my phone, and if I point my phone at a sign it will give it to me in English (sort of). Here it is telling me not to jump the fence and get into the fountain.<br />
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Speaking of fountains, what do you think of these at the Peterhof Palace?<br />
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And here is another great picture at Peterhof.<br />
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The fountains were pretty, but I was possibly more taken with this squirrel. It is not a species I have ever seen before.<br />
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Here is one last picture of showers, and then it is time for me to hit the shower myself here at my hostel, and then it is off to bed. Djin and I have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow. We want to get half way to Moscow, and are looking at staying near a national park. Vladimir Putin also stays at that park, or so I am told, but I bet he won't want us to drop in for a visit.<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-79128598889103153482017-05-20T13:29:00.001-05:002017-05-20T13:29:10.600-05:00Saint Petersburg, RussiaAfter a long vacation from motorcycle travel, I have decided to ride across Russia, going from Saint Petersburg in the far west to Vladivostok in the far east. It is a long way; about the same as riding from New York City to San Francisco and then turning around and riding back again.<br />
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I am riding with Djin Sital who spends half the year in Suriname, South America, and the other half in Holland. Suriame is, or was, a Dutch colony, and so Djin is both Dutch and Surinamese.<br />
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Djin and I met up at my daughter, Jessica's, house in Holland and started our trip from there early in the morning. We rode the autobahn through Germany and got to Berlin in the afternoon after a long and tiring ride.<br />
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Djin and I had both been to Berlin before, so we did not spend a lot of time there. I didn't even take many pictures, but here is one of Checkpoint Charlie. Remember that place? World War III came close to starting there, even closer than it did during the Cuban missle crisis.<br />
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I also decided to take a picture of part of the Berlin Wall still left standing. I took the picture only because I wanted to remember how the wall was rounded on top. The reason it was rounded was because, had it been topped with barbed wire a person might be able to grab on and swing over. That was an impossible thing to do with the rounded top. The escapee couldn't get a grip.<br />
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Leaving Berlin, we rode up through Poland. We both wanted to get off the autobahn and take smaller back roads. Along the way we passed huge fields of golden Rapeseed Oil plants (called Canola -- for Canadian Oil) in North America. The fields made the air heavy and floral so that it smelled like a funeral parlor.<br />
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The road we chose was twisting and narrow. Sometimes we were wishing we had stuck to the autobahns so that we could make faster time. Rounding one bend, we came upon a wreck. It had just happened. We were the first on the scene. There was a man trapped in the small car, and his baby in a car seat in the front seat. Both were alive, and the baby was hurt and crying. We got him out of the car first because everyone was afraid of a fire. A lot of fire extinguishers were produced by the peopl who stopped to help. The baby had a huge gaping hole in its head and was covered with blood. Of course, neither of us could speak of word of Polish and felt totally inadequate at trying to help. The women who showed up at the scene immediately tried to help the baby, while the men worked at trying to get the trappd man out of the car. We left just as the energency fire trucks arrived, 20 minutes later. I don't know what finally happened, but we drove much more cautiously for a while after that.<br />
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Finally, after a long couple of days riding up through Lithuania and Latvia, we got to the Russian border. Three hours later, after going to about 5 checkpoints, we were in. After a night in a nice hotel hear the border, we got to Saint Petersburg the next day. Now we are in a hostel and going out each day to explore the city. Today, I went to the huge Saint Peter and Saint Paul fortress where Saint Petersburg (and some say Russia itself) began.<br />
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They fired a huge canon from the rooftop just as I arrived. I wonder if it was to announce to everyone that I was finally there. Nah. Probably not.<br />
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The fortress is huge, and one of the best things in it is the beautiful church.<br />
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The church is beautiful inside.<br />
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All the Tzars are buried here, every one of them starting with the first, Peter the Great, down to the last, Nicholas II who as executed, along with his family and most of his servats, by the Bolsheveks. All those people, family and servats alike, are buried in a common grave in the church.<br />
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After spending a long afternoon at the Saint Peter and Saint Paul fortress, I walked across a bridge to the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood. It was really pretty from the outside; very different than I was used to seeing.<br />
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Inside, however, it wasn't much.<br />
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Djin and I are here for two more days. That might be too long. Tomorrow we are going to take a bus tour of the city just to get our bearings a little better. After that I am going to the famous Hermitage Museum.<br />
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More about that later,<br />
Ron<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-83862609783730477392016-09-25T21:52:00.004-05:002016-09-25T21:52:56.196-05:00More pictures of Kruger National Park, South AfricaHi again:<br />
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In my last post, I was putting pictures of Kruger National Park in South Africa on my blog. Now, Patrice and I are back home in Illinois, basking in the many memories we have of South Africa. Being in the park was like being in a huge zoo, except Patrice and I were the ones in the cages while the animals roamed free. We had to be inside the electrified fence before dark each night, and could not leave our car except in a few designated places when out exploring during the day. People who don't follow these simple rules run a huge chance of being eaten, gored, or stomped to death.<br />
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People drive on the left side of the road in South Africa, and the steering wheel is on the right hand side of the car. Speed limits in the park are 50 kilometers per hour (30 mph) on the paved roads, and 40 kilometers per hour (24 mph) on the many miles of back country roads. This sounds slow, but it is actually quite adequate. Not only is there some concern that an elephant or zebra will jump out in front of the car, but every few miles cars would be parked on the road watching animals.<br />
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Can you see the zebra watching Patrice in the picture above? Those guys are everywhere in the park.<br />
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One day, Patrice and I were driving down a back country road when a giraffe decided to run along beside the car. He was going faster than my 40 kph, and easily won the race, cutting across the road just in front of us. I thought he looked quite pleased with himself.<br />
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I just have a point-and-shoot camera, but those things have great telephoto lenses on them. I decided to see if I could zoom in on some animals. Here is the giraffe again-----<br />
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And here is a zebra----<br />
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And an elephant---<br />
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Can you tell what this guy is?<br />
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The answer is, it's a wart hog. Here he is again:<br />
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I liked how well the telephoto lens worked on my little camera. Patrice was a great animal spotter, often seeing those guys a mile or more away, while my job was to zoom in on them and take their picture. For example, this rhino was way off in the distance; I could hardly see him, but eagle eye Patrice spotted him right away.<br />
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Although rhinos, elephants, giraffe and other large animals could not come into "camp" at night because of the electric fence, smaller critters seemed to get in some way. Food had to be carefully locked away. Even refrigerators (each bungalow had one) had to be locked because monkeys and baboons had figured out how to open them. As it got closer to dark, the stripped mongoose comes out to play.<br />
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Monkeys and baboons don't need to wait for dark. They will open doors or cabinets at any hour. Food is seldom safe from those guys.<br />
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Stay away from those electric wires big guy, or you will be a hot monkey---<br />
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Another animal we saw quite a lot of, but never in camp, was this one. Do you know what he is?<br />
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You got it right; he is a hyena.<br />
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By the way, can you tell the difference between browsers and grazers? Hint: Browsers eat leaves off trees, and grazers eat grass. Elephants are browsers, and their huge piles of dung are filled with thorns which go right through the elephant's digestive system (talk about tough guts). You must be careful while driving because if you run across the elephant dung you stand a good chance of getting a giant thorn in your tire -- changing a tire while watching out for lions and elephants would be a scary proposition I bet.<br />
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This guy is a browser also. He is a Kudu, one of the many types of antelope type animals in the park.<br />
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These little guys are called impala. They are probably the most common animal in the park, and they are absolutely unafraid of cars. They will walk right out in front of them. They love to walk about in huge herds.<br />
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Another grazer is the Nyala, a type of antelope. I was forever getting it mixed up with the kudu, but the kudu has spiraled horns.<br />
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The birds and plants in the park were interesting too, but jet lag is telling me it is time to get some sleep. I will post more pictures tomorrow.<br />
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Goodnight (yawn)<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-6703086744299245322016-09-21T11:20:00.003-05:002016-09-21T11:20:42.096-05:00South AfricaHi again:<br />
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Patrice, my wife, the animal lover, has been wanting to go on safari in Africa for the longest time. The problem was the expense. She had figured it would cost about $30,000 which was totally out of line for our budgets. After some research, we finally decided we could "self-charter" a safari by flying into Johannesburg, South Africa, renting a car there, and going up to Kruger National Park. We went on-line and reserved a different bush camp in Kruger for each of nine nights, and then we were all set.<br />
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As soon as we entered Kruger National Park we started seeing animals. <br />
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Impala seemed to be everywhere<br />
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Our first rest camp was at Punda Maria.<br />
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There was a waterhole there, and the elephants were having a great time playing in it. We watched them cavort for a long time.<br />
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It gets dark at 6:00 in the tropics. At that first rest camp, there were some lights that could be turned on if a person wanted to continue watching animals from the blind near the water hole.<br />
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The next day we drove our rental car up toward the grey-green and greasy Limpopo river which we all remember from Rudyard Kipling's tale of how the elephant got his trunk. We discovered several crocodiles there.<br />
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We also started seeing a lot of hippos.<br />
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And also the most dangerous animals (some say) in Africa: The Cape Buffalo. Patrice really did not feel comfortable around those big guys.<br />
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They love being around water. They also love being in big herds. Sometimes we would have to wait for a long time as a herd crossed the road.<br />
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Sometimes we would see a lot of vultures sitting in a tree.<br />
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That was always a sure sign that there was a lion's kill close by.<br />
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It was also a sign that it was time to pull off the road and look for the lion.<br />
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We had scheduled our overnight camps each night, and had to be behind the electrified fence before dark at 6:00 p.m. You sure don't want to be out in the wild and have car trouble after dark. Each camp had something special to recommend it. We loved sitting on the veranda, having a drink or a breakfast, and watching the animals out across the waterways or the veldt.<br />
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Each camp we stayed in had a nice "hut" for us, and generally cooking gear. We never took advantage of the cooking gear, preferring instead to eat in the camp restaurant. Here is a picture of a "hut", and also of our rental car.<br />
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I could continue to put pictures on this post for a long time, but Patrice says it is time now to walk around a little. So, more later.<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-18646072910820967322016-06-22T20:25:00.002-05:002016-06-22T20:25:53.705-05:00Pictures of my VStromHere are some pictures of my VStrom which I took just before I left Germany to come home yesterday.<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-23777767503589775542016-06-16T13:33:00.000-05:002016-06-16T13:33:09.686-05:00My trip is over for this summerSince my last post, I have came full circle, back up to my daughter's house in Holland. Along the way I stopped at the Salvador Dali house and museum in northeaster Spain. He is one of my favorite artists and I could not resist going a little out of my way to the northeastern corner of Spain to see the museum he put together.<br />
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Here is is car.<br />
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And here, one of his more famous paintings.<br />
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Odysseus and I traveled around the Eastern edge of the Pyrenees and into France. We rode up through the Gorges du Verdon and along the Route du Napoleon<br />
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I wanted to camp because I enjoy doing that, and especially I enjoy meeting the people at the campgrounds. I was only able to do it two nights however. The first night, the people across from me, a man and woman from Holland, brought me over a cup of coffee. It was really good. However, it started raining again and I had to find a hotel. Three years ago, riding this same route in reverse, I remember passing this hotel and thinking it looked kind of nice.</div>
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Our route took Odysseus and me up to Chamonix on the flanks of Mont Blanc. Allthough it looked rainy, I decided to camp one last time. It will be my final chance to do that in Europe. From the campground I could look up and see the glaciers of Mont Blanc.</div>
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my next door neighbor at the campground was a motorcycle rider also. He was from Scotland. He and I walked into town and happened to go into a restaurant owned by a woman from Cody, Wyoming. She and her daughter made me a great cup of American coffee; nice and weak, at least by European standards, just the way I like it. It rained again during the night, and I had to spend a long time the next morning getting he tent dried out and put away. Meanwhile, I got to enjoy the scenery.</div>
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I rode on up through the Alps, enjoying my last time through them. Odysseus and I have certainly had some good rides through those mountains.</div>
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I wanted to stop at the town of Verdun along the border between France and Germany in the Alsace-Lorraine region. It was here where the longest battle of any war ever took place over three years during WWI. Thousands of men were killed senselessly, almost all of them by cannon fire. After the war, they gathered up the soldiers of both sides who could not be identified and put their bones in a huge ossuary. So sad.</div>
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But now, finally, I am back at my daughter's house in Holland. I spent the day sorting out the camping gear which I plan to give them: tent, stove, etc. I won't be needing it any more. Tomorrow I will start getting Odysseus cleaned up to sell. I have decided to sell him here in Europe rather than to ship him back home. He has been a great partner and will make his next owner a trustworthy steed. </div>
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Bye Odysseus. It makes me sad to leave you behind. I am off to new horizons. I hate it that I can't take you with me, but I promise to find a new owner for you who will take good care of you.</div>
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Ron</div>
Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-40635481076778876142016-06-06T17:39:00.001-05:002016-06-08T14:18:43.838-05:00Barcelona, SpainBarcelona has to be one of the most beautiful cities in Spain, and possibly in all of Europe. I have been having a wonderful time walking around this city, and seeing all sorts of marvelous things. As you have probably heard me say before, I don't much care for large cities. I prefer the mountains and valleys and forests. I have to make an exception for Barcelona though. It is one of the most dynamic places I have ever been.<br />
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Lets see --- where to start ---<br />
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Dragons are everywhere in the city. There is a legend here, going way back to the 1400s or so, that Saint Jordi killed a dragon around here and saved the queen. The English have a similar legend, but they call the man Saint George.<br />
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I took that picture of the dragon at a fountain in the park not far from where I stayed while in Barcelona. The park is just down the way from my apartment, just through the Arc d'Trimof (yes, they spell it a little funny here).<br />
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Not far from the Arc d'Trimof is the sea. Barcelona citizens really like the sea, and they have about 7 beaches. I didn't spend any time at the beaches, but I did enjoy walking around looking at the sailboats moored there. There are thousands of them, and they come from all over the Mediterranean and the European and African Atlantic.<br />
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Some think that Christopher Columbus was born in Barcelona all those years ago. Whether that is true or not, they do think a lot of him here. There is a statue of him, high up on a pedestal, near the Barcelona port. It celebrates his return voyage when he came back to see Ferdinand and Isabella.<br />
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And that monument to old Chris marks the beginning of one of the most famous tourist streets in Barcelona. I bought some souvenirs for my youngest grandsons there.<br />
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There is a tremendous amount of traffic in Barcelona, and for that reason many people like to ride scooters and motorcycles. Look. I found some.<br />
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I left my own motorcycle parked in a motorcycle parking area in front of my apartment building. It is right on the street corner, but it is locked up and I think it is perfectly safe. One thing I definitely wanted to do was go visit the 1998 Olympics site. Here is where the kept the eternal flame burning during the games.<br />
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The Olympic Games in Barcelona were held up on a huge hill overlooking the city. I walked around up there, and gradually worked my way down toward the bottom of the hill, passing these colorful pigeons along the way. I don't know who the people in this picture were. I wasn't really interested in them.<br />
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From the pigeon place, I had a great view over Barcelona. Can you see the Mediterranean Sea down there?<br />
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There is a fountain at the bottom of the hill. When I got down to it, it was getting close to dark. There were a lot of people there waiting for the fountain to start working.<br />
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The water started squirting up in the air just a little before dark.<br />
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And when it got good and dark, the lights came on and the music started, both Rock and Roll and Classical. The fountain put on a dancing display.<br />
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I had parked my fanny in a cafe chair which might have been a little too close to the fountain, because sometimes it looked like a colorful cloud, and then I would get a little wet -- not too much though.<br />
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I decided to move away a little to get more perspective on the whole affair. As I walked back up the hill, up toward the Museum of Modern Art, I discovered that the entire hill had fountains on it.<br />
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Have you heard all you want to hear of fountains? How about just one more picture, although I have dozens I could show you.<br />
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As I was walking around up at the top of the hill, I spotted one of the more modern buildings in Barcelona. It was all lit up. To me, it is a stupid looking thing, but who am I to judge. It was a long way off across the city, so I had a hard time holding my telephoto lens on it.<br />
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It was getting a little late for this old man. Time to go back to the apartment to get my beauty sleep. But first, gotta find the Metro station. I had not ridden the Barcelona Metro yet, but I had a map that said there was a stop somewhere down this street. It looks deserted here, but believe me -- there were lots of people out wandering about.<br />
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Once I got back "home" and had a quick shower, it was midnight. I fell right asleep, eager to go exploring the world of Barcelona's most famous architect, Gaudi. The first place I went the next day was the Sagrada Familia. It is the most famous building in Spain. What do you think of it?<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">Keep an open mind as you look at it, because they have been working on it for 100 yers and there are still 20 more to go before they are finished. I thought the sculptures outside were really interesting. The each tell a story from Jesus' life, but I could not remember where in the Bible it talks about an angel playing a big bassoon.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 16px;">The church is surrounded by small parks on two sides, and buildings on the other two sides. It was really hard to get a good picture.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "calibri";">Personally, I thought the architecture was a little strange, at least to my taste. But inside, the place really comes alive with light from stained glass windows and graceful, tree-like columns.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "calibri";">I have a lot of pictures of the church and other Gaudi buildings, but I don't want to bore you with more of them. Besides, it is almost 1:00 a.m. and I plan to get up early tomorrow and ride Odysseus north to the villages where Salvador Dali, one of my favorite artists, lived.</span></span><br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-51672585593079104252016-05-31T16:23:00.000-05:002016-05-31T16:23:07.662-05:00Fatima, PortugalIt was very difficult getting out of Llisbon. For some reason the police had a lot of the streets I needed to use blocked off. I never knew why. Maybe they were getting ready for a parade. At any rate, I finally made my way out into the Portugal countryside. All over southern Portugal there are cork trees and I wanted to see them.<br />
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Cork is the dead outer bark of all trees, but the "Cork" we use for stoppers and bulletin boards comes from a special tree that grows mostly in Portugal. It is called the Cork Oak, and it happens to have a cork layer that is much thicker than that of any other tree in the world.<br />
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They strip the cork off a tree every nine years, revealing the reddish cork cambium underneath. Since cork is dead, it does not hurt the tree any more than you having your fingernails or hair cut hurts you.<br />
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My route eventually took me up the west coast of Portugal to a medieval city named Obidos. They dress up in costume and have a medieval fair each June, but I was several weeks to early to see it.<br />
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From that city it was only a hop and a skip up to Fatima. This was one of my main goals here in Portugal.<br />
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Back in 1917, three young children saw an angel. He taught them to pray, and he prepared them for a visit from Mary, the Mother of God.<br />
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They saw Mary on the 13th day of each month for several months. During these visits she revealed three secrets to the children. The first was a vision of Hell. The second was that there would be another war after the First World War and that it would be a greater war. The third secret was one that the Church refused to reveal to the world.<br />
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Word soon got out, and people started following the children hoping to see Mary themselves. Finally, Mary promised there would be a miracle on the 13th day of the final month (I think is was the month of October). That day there were 26,000 people there to see the miracle. It was a terrifically rainy day, but at the promised hour the sun broke through the clouds, turning colors and appearing to fall toward the Earth. Petals fell from the sky but never touched the ground. Many of the people there that day were skeptics, and some were journalists. They all saw the miracle, and the journalists reported it. Did it happen? I don't know. I look for scientific reasons for all miracles, but who am I to say it did not occur as reported.<br />
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Mary also told the children that the two youngest, a boy and a girl, would die soon. That indeed happened a year or so later. As to the third secret -- the church finally revealed it in the year 2000, almost a century later, and said that it had predicted the assassination attempt on Pope John Paul II which took place on 13 May at 17.17 (They use the 24 hour clock in Europe). Compare the dates with those of Mary's appearances to the children in Fatima (13th of each month in the year 2017). Coincidence? Hmmmm.<br />
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The children are buried in the Basilica at Fatima.<br />
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They lived in humble homes outside the city. Here is Lucy's home. She was the eldest.<br />
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And here is a well near her house where the angel appeared to the children on his second visit.<br />
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Now their hometown, a short distance from Fatima, is a sleepy little Portuguese village.<br />
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This is a bedroom inside Lucy's childhood home. I am not sure, but I think she shared this room with her much younger sister.<br />
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I spotted this sheep in the barn and wondered if Jesus slept in a manger like this one.<br />
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Thousands of faithful come to visit Fatima each year. Often they light candles in memory of departed loved ones. I lit a couple myself in memory of my father and mother.<br />
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I have enjoyed my stay at Fatima. I have been in a very Catholic hotel. There is a crucifix over my bed, and there is a Mass each day down in the hotel's prayer room, and there are religious icons on each floor. There are also many gift shops selling religious items all through the town. There is certainly a lot here for the faithful to see and do.<br />
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Tomorrow, I am going toward the north. I wonder what this fascinating country will hold for me up there.<br />
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RonRon Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-70279877955011077882016-05-28T13:52:00.000-05:002016-05-28T13:52:12.479-05:00LisbonHi from beautiful Lisbon, Portugal.<br />
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I got here three nights ago, having traveled by motorcycle from Granada, Spain. Coming into Lisbon, I crossed over a huge bridge modeled, I am told, after the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.\<br />
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I needed a place to stay for the next several days, so I asked my GPS to find lodging. I picked out a likely looking candidate from the list, but when I followed my GPS directions, the hotel was not there. This is kind of a common thing with a GPS unit I think.<br />
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While I was wandering around looking, two Lisbon people saw the license plate on my motorcycle and stopped to talk. Their names are Margarida Eloi and Nuno Antonio.<br />
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It turns out that they have been to the United States several times and they were very interested in talking about Illinois, wondering just where it is and what it is like there. They invited me up to their apartment which was just next door to where I had happened to park. Nuno took me up onto the roof to show me the view of Lisbon from up there.<br />
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He wanted to take my picture, so here I am up on his roof with Lisbon spread out behind me.<br />
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Antonio gave me a lot of suggestions on things to go and see in Portugal, and Margarida gave me a map of the country. Then they helped me call another Pensada to make reservations for the next few nights. Here is a picture Margarida took of Nuno and me as I was getting ready to get back on Odysseus and head off to the Pensada. Nuno sent me this picture a day or two later by email. Thanks Nuno. I know that you are following my blog, so here is a picture of us. I like it.<br />
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I wandered around Lisbon the next day, first by a tour bus, and later by walking. Lisbon is certainly a big city, and everything is very spread out.<br />
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I walked up onto a hill overlooking a pretty park. From there I could look down and see the Rio Tejo. It is a river, but to me it is more of a bay of the Atlantic Ocean.<br />
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I walked down through the park, going to the river, and as I walked through the park I came to a section that had hundreds of stalls selling books.<br />
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Too bad I can't read Portuguese, because I could have bought about any kind of book I wanted here.<br />
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Pretty much all my reading these days in on my Kindle, reading books that I download from my library. My wife, though, loves real books and would be in heaven if we had these book shops in our own home town.<br />
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People must like books in Portugal too, because there were a lot of them there. Often, they would buy their books there in the park and then I would see them sitting at an outdoor cafe there in the park reading books to their children.<br />
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From the park, I continued walking on down through the shopping district, passing street performers and men doing caricatures and lots of boutiques. It is quite impressive down there on the river front.<br />
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There are hundreds of seafood restaurants down on the riverside. There are also many marinas. I love looking a sailboats and picking out the one I would buy if I had my choice. Once upon a time, back when I was 30 years old, I thought I wanted a sailboat. Then, I went sailing with a man once and found out that it is not for me; it is very boring. However, there is a certain romanticism about sailing. Here is a sloop that I found very appealing, although it would not be one I would choose to own.<br />
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Columbus and many other adventurers sailed off into the wild ocean from Lisbon. There is quite the sailing tradition here. There is a marvelous monument down on the river to those early sailors.<br />
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I guess all those guys on the monument are famous, but I am not too sure who they are. I do know that the one in the lead is Henry the Navigator. Do you remember him from your high school history? Third in line is Vasco de Gama I think. And somewhere in there is Magellan.<br />
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Just in case you can't see him in the previous picture, here he is again: Henry the Navigator.<br />
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One of those guys on the monument is Cabral who discovered Brazil. I am not sure which one he is, but I can tell you that the Portuguese are very proud of Brazil, even though Brazil is independent these days. Here is a replica of the first plane to fly from Portugal to Brazil. Those two guys who flew it must have been brave.<br />
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Just down the river from the Sailor's Monument is the Torre (which means "Tower" of Belem (which I am told means Bethlehem). Once upon a time it was a fort that guarded the entrance to Lisbon. Now it is just a good looking thing to walk around in for an hour or two.<br />
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Do you like this picture I took of one of the corner stations?<br />
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Maybe this picture from up above is better.<br />
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One final one. I hope it doesn't scare you<br />
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Just down from my hotel is a huge monastery. It seems to be the place to see because it is always packed with tourists.<br />
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They were getting ready to have a wedding down in the church. People were sure dressed up. I wasn't, so I could not go to the wedding myself.<br />
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There are oodles and gobs of things to see in Lisbon, but they sure are spread out. Walking is okay, but it is better to find motorized transport. One thing that a lot of people seemed to like was riding in a tuk tuk.<br />
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Or on the cute little trolley cars<br />
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Or on the larger trams.<br />
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You have probably heard me say before that I am not a huge fan of large cities, but I do like Lisbon. Now, it is time for me to do a little more walking; this time down the street to a restaurant. It is almost 9:00 p.m., and that is supper time here. So I had best be on my way.<br />
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Ron<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-44296133646240805792016-05-24T14:44:00.000-05:002016-05-24T14:44:42.208-05:00The AlhambraI got to Granada at 5:00 p.m. and found the apartment we had rented without a great deal of difficulty. The apartment owner's mother was there patiently waiting for me, and she gave me a couple of keys so that we can get back in. Now, it was just a matter of time until Renaud and Jessica got here from Madrid.<br />
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As it turned out, there were no trains or buses running from Madrid to Granada. They finally had to rent a car, And they didn't get to town until about 10:00 at night. It was far later than they had anticipated. They called me on the cell phone, and we eventually got them sorted out so that they finally arrived. All was well.<br />
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The next day we had hoped to visit the Alhambra, up on the hill and across the valley from our apartment.<br />
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Unfortunately, we got a late start and, once again, their GPS led us astray. Not knowing the lay of the land here in Granada, we missed out on going to the Alhambra. that day. Instead we explored Granada, getting to understand this beautiful city a little better.<br />
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King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, those two who financed Columbus' trip to the New World, lived here. There is a statue of Queen Isabella and Columbus right next to the huge, impressive cathedral. They are both buried (entombed) in a church next to the cathedral.<br />
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Grenada is a beautiful city to explore. The cathedral is huge, but unfortunately we were not able to go it it. We did explore the shops and alleyways of Granada, finally going up on the hill overlooking the city where I snapped this picture.<br />
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The next day we discovered the short walk from our apartment to the Alhambra, a matter of walking down into the valley, following the river to the Plaza Nueva, and then a footpath up to the citadel. The entrances to the Alhambra are filled with all manner of flowers.<br />
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And not only flowers, but fountains as well.<br />
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Water was very important to the Moors who built this complex.<br />
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We took an excellent tour, led by a young lady who knew all about the palaces and the plants. One important thing about the Alhambra, is that the Moors did not believe in painting images. Instead, they decorated with geometric designs.<br />
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The Moors built some amazing things there. Here is the courtyard of the Fountain of the Lions.<br />
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We had a good time exploring the Alhambra complex with our pretty guide.<br />
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The place is certainly a feast for the eyes. I liked the palace of the sultan.<br />
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We were there about 4 hours, and we were pretty hungry by the time we got done. We walked down the footpath into the modern city and hunted around among the many tiny pubs and eating establishments until we found just the perfect one for a light meal: beer and a sandwich for 1.50 Euros. I could not believe it.<br />
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Later, we walked up the hill to our apartment and had a rest and a bit of a nap, waiting for the sunset. Watching the sunset over the hills beyond Granada is apparently a popular thing to do here.<br />
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As the sun went down over Granada, the Alhambra was even more impressive, especially after they turned they turned on the illumination.<br />
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By that time Jessica, who likes to eat, was saying it was time to go find supper.<br />
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By that time it was 10:00, the perfect hour for eating in Spain. How about an octopus tentacle. Umm! I joke, but it was actually pretty good.<br />
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The next day Jessica and Renaud headed on south in their rental car. They have a hotel booked at the Mediterranean Sea and will fly back to Holland from there in a few days. As for me, I sat around the apartment all day reading and snacking. Tomorrow I head off to Cordoba. Life is good.<br />
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Ron<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-35707951188837697502016-05-22T03:03:00.000-05:002016-05-22T03:03:45.255-05:00Madrid and ToledoI got back to Madrid at about 11:00 a.m. after a long, tiring, crowded flight from Evansville, Indiana, to Chicago, to London, and finally to Madrid (yawn). Jessica, my daughter, arrived at the airport in Madrid about an hour later, and she and I took the Metro to our rooms at the home of Maria and Carlos.<br />
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Time to do some exploring. We went into the center of Madrid and walked around enjoying the plazas and the people.<br />
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We both love the outdoor cafes.<br />
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My motorcycle was stored at Victor Rider's house, and I needed to go get it so that I could take it to the Suzuki dealership early the next morning. I bought as new chain for it last year, but for some reason it had worn out and I had to get it replaced. This next picture is not Odysseus by the way, he would be very upset it you thought it was. Instead, it is the tricycle of a man who had both it and himself rigged up with hundreds of colored lights.<br />
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The next day, while my motorcycle was being worked on by the Suzuki shop, Jessica and I went to the palace in Madrid.\\<br />
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And to the park by the Prado museum. I thought these trees were impressive.<br />
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I like Madrid. It is a large capitol city, but it has a small city feel. I especially liked the park.<br />
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The next day, with time to kill waiting for Jessica's husband, Renaud, to arrive from Holland, Jessica and I decided to go to Toledo. I am glad that we did. It is a beautiful city. El Greco lived here, and painted his famous "View of Toledo" from across the river from the town.<br />
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I think El Greco was seeing visions when he did his famous painting.<br />
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<img alt="View of Toledo, 1604-14 by El Greco" height="400" src="http://www.elgreco.net/images/paintings/view-of-toledo.jpg" width="354" /><br />
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A nice couple of tourists from Brazil took our picture while we were there looking across at the city.<br />
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Don Quixote is all over this part of Spain. He is the tall guy in this picture with Jessica.<br />
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I am glad we went to Toledo. It is a beautiful old city surrounded by walls to keep out the enemies.<br />
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And with a lot of old churches and homes.<br />
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They built their city streets narrow back in those days.<br />
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There is an enormous cathedral down one of those narrow streets. The place is huge.<br />
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And very pretty inside.<br />
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The following day was Saturday. Renaud was coming in on an afternoon flight from Holland and he and Jessica were going to make their way down to Granada. I will ride Odysseus down to Granada and meet them there in the evening. On the way, I stopped at a town south of Madrid to see some old, Spanish-type windmills.<br />
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These were the type of windmills Don Quixote tilted against, so of course he has to be there in memory.<br />
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There are a lot of windmills up on that windswept hill on the way south to Granada.<br />
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It was a long ride down to Grenada, and I was really happy when I got to the apartment we had rented. I was very ready for a rest and a large glass of cold water. I got there about 5:00 in the afternoon. When I checked my email I found I had one from Jessica saying there were no buses or trains from Madrid and that they finally had to rent a car. It was about 10:00 p.m. when they finally arrived. But now they are here and it is early morning. We are scurrying around and getting ready to go tour the Alhambra. The bus stop is just down the street. Time to go.<br />
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RonRon Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-76099196327958826932016-05-16T14:12:00.000-05:002016-05-16T14:12:06.110-05:00GraduationIt has been a long time since I posted anything to this blog. That's because I left my bike with a friend in Madrid and flew home from my daughter's graduation from college. More about that in a little while, but first I need to bring the blog up-to-date.<br />
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In my last post I was telling about visiting the modern arts and science center in Valencia. It was a wonderful place. One of the things I wanted to do there was spend a day visiting the Marine building.<br />
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I like the wildlife that live at that place. I didn't take many pictures of the sea creatures, but I did get some shots of the outdoor critters. These flamingos were standing around, one-legged, thinking that they were about the prettiest birds on the planet.<br />
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Hey! What about us? We're pretty too.<br />
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Yeah? Well, come over here you stuck up birds. I'll show you what I can do to pretty animals.<br />
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Don't be so vile, crocodile. You are giving all the reptiles here a bad name.<br />
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Of all the animals in the Marine Center, I liked these Rosette Spoonbills the best:<br />
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Valencia has several parks. One of the best runs for miles along a dry river bed. I borrowed a bicycle and rode the entire length of it one day. There were some interesting things to see there. What do you think of this playground. I would have loved something like that when I was a child.<br />
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There was certainly a lot to see in Valencia. It is one of my favorite cities. I rode my borrowed bike to the wharf and salivated over the sailboats moored there, and to the beach where I watched people playing sandlot volleyball, and to the old city center where I got my pocket picked (my own fault-- I should never have had my Kindle Paperwhite e-reader sticking up out of my back pocket).<br />
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Unfortunately, I did not take many pictures, and all too soon it was time to move on, riding Odysseus toward Madrid.<br />
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I am so amazed at the mountains and gorges and bridges in Spain.<br />
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Once in Madrid, which is not all that far from Valencia, I stayed at the Apartment of Maria and Carlos. They were great hosts. Thanks for putting up with me Maria and Carlos.<br />
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Carlos is working hard on learning to speak English. Between his rudimentary English and my poor Spanish we were able to communicate pretty well. Carlos was intrigued with my motorcycle.<br />
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It was very rainy in Madrid. That is kind of a rare thing for them. It is usually sunny and warm. I spent my time inside museums mostly, looking at art work by famous Spanish artists: Picasso, El Greco, Salvador Dali, Goya and so forth. The sun came out sometimes, but only in rare sunny moments. When that happened, out would come the street performers also. Look at this guy. I would have been exhausted lying around on my stomach like that all day. What a hard way to make a living.<br />
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Cervantes, the author of Don Quixote, is pretty famous there in Madrid.<br />
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One of the most intriguing things in Madrid, in my opinion, is the growing wall. It is close to the famous Prado Museum, and it is covered with plants. People sure did like taking pictures of it, even though it is very hard to get a good picture of.<br />
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One reason I was in Madrid was because it was a convenient place to leave Odysseus for a week while I went home for Victoria's graduation. I left Odysseus with a man I met through the Horizons Unlimited Club of world motorcycle travelers that I belong to. His name is Victor Rider, which I think is a perfect name for a motorcycle guy.<br />
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Victor has the perfect place for leaving a motorcycle. He is just a few miles from the Madrid airport, and only 5 minutes from a Metro Station. Thanks for watching over Odysseus for me while I went home Victor. I really appreciate it.<br />
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It was good to see my wife at the airport when I got back to the good ole USA. There were a lot of chores waiting for me, but mostly she had been doing a lot of the work I should be doing myself while I was gone. After a few days, it was time to go to the University of Illinois and see Victoria get her degree in Psychology.<br />
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It was really cold sitting up there in the stands at the football stadium. Patrice and I were bundled up. Unfortunately for the graduates, they had to sit in the wind down on the stadium grounds in their flimsy gowns. No bundling up for them.<br />
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Graduation was a two day affair. First was the general graduation.<br />
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The next day, Sunday, was the "real" graduation. Each School at the University had its own graduation ceremony where the graduates were actually handed their diplomas. It was inside and much warmer.<br />
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And here she is ladies and gentlemen, ta da, Victoria. We are sure proud of you girl.<br />
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And now, Victoria comes home for a while and starts looking for work, and I go back to Madrid to pick up Odysseus and commence the long ride to take him back up to Heidelberg where I keep him. So, bye bye, Patrice and Victoria. I always miss you while I am gone.<br />
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I leave tomorrow, and arrive in Madrid the next day (yawn). Jessica, my eldest daughter, and I will meet up at the airport there in Madrid, and a few days later her husband, Renaud, will be there also. We plan to spend some time at Grenada seeing the famous Alhambra there. I promise to take a lot of pictures of the three of us there.<br />
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Adios for now.<br />
Ron<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-1086042309010178522016-04-30T22:02:00.000-05:002016-04-30T22:02:06.171-05:00Valencia, SpainI rode Odysseus up the east side of Spain, riding through the mountains and along the Mediterranean Sea.<br />
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There are mile after mile of plastic greenhouses along this area. They stretch way up into the mountains.<br />
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They looked like snow when I first saw them. I found it hard to stop at a place where I could take of picture that showed how many acres they actually covered.<br />
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They went on, mile after mile. This is the vegetable growing area of Spain: cucumbers, lettuce, asparagus, all kinds of things for the table. Once I got away from the coast and turned into the mountains the acres of greenhouses gave way to acres of olive trees. With every meal here you get a bowl of olives to kind of start you off.<br />
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The mountainous interior of Spain is chopped up into canyons and chasms. Towns need many bridges to connect themselves across these steep walled gullies.I stayed at a hotel and could look out the window of my room to see one such bridge. By the time the sun came up the next morning it was foggy and there was a misty rain.<br />
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There are craggy ridges just beyond the bridge, but the weather was socked in enough that it was not possible to see them. I stayed two days, walking around and going over the bridges, waiting for the weather to clear up. I hate to ride in the rain.<br />
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Once the weather did clear up, I headed up along the coast to Valencia. I kind of had it in mind that I would like to camp, but once I got thee and looked at the caravans in the campground I decided I did not want to be the only tent in camper city. I went on into Valencia and got myself a room. Valencia is a very modern city, and there were lots of hotels to choose from.<br />
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As I was coming into the city I passed their rather new "Science City" museums.<br />
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As soon as I checked into my hotel and had Odysseus safely parked, I walked down to the science museum.<br />
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There is a unique Opera House there also. I am not too sure why it is not famous like the one in Sydney, Australia. Could it be because Valencia is not as well known as Sydney? I don't know.<br />
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I tried taking a "selfie" of myself with the futuristic building behind me. It didn't work out all that well.<br />
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I walked around for a while, and went into a park where kids where doing half-pipe moves on skateboards and bicycles, and where people were playing with dogs and having birthday parties. By that time, it was time to eat. I located a nice restaurant where I had a huge Greek salad. I love the cheese they put into those things.<br />
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Finally it was dark and the lights came on. I think the Opera House looks like a space ship.<br />
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The reflections of the Opera House in the water reminded me of the Starship Enterprise from the Star Trek movies.<br />
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I am liking Valencia so well that I think I will stay here several days and do some serious exploring. I will tell you what I find later.<br />
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Ron<br />
<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-1678135225140262932016-04-25T12:05:00.000-05:002016-04-25T12:05:15.027-05:00From Antequera in Andalusia, SpainAfter leaving Gibraltar I started riding the roads that twisted up through the mountains of Andalusia in the far south of Spain The roads are highlighted in green on the map, meaning they are scenic drives, and indeed they are absolutely beautiful.<br />
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There are numerous small villages hugging the cliffs.<br />
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<br />The villages are a delight. I was riding on a Saturday, and people were out driving about and enjoying their weekend. There were many motorcycle riders on the road and in the towns, and when it came time to park for the evening I felt entirely safe leaving Odysseus in the motorcycle parking area out on the street.<br />
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I found myself a beautiful hotel for the evening. It had clean rooms and a friendly staff, and the price was less than I paid for the terrible hostel I stayed in at Gibraltar. The town I stayed in was Ronda. It was split in two by a deep gorge, and it had several bridges crossing the gorge, each older than the one immediately above it, and all built at the same place. So, in essence, there is actually only one bridge now, high up over the gorge that splits the town.<br />
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I joined the tourists in wandering to the bottom of the gorge, and all over the town.<br />
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The town was a photographers delight. There were nice things to see around each corner. Not being much of a photographer myself, I do not pretend to do justice to the scenery.<br />
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My hotel was just outside the Plaza de Toros; the bullfighting ring. The next day, as I was loading up, preparing to leave, there was a club displaying their antique cars in the Plaza.<br />
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I am in love with this old Aston Martin. I want one like it, but I guess that is something I will never own.<br />
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I left Ronda and headed toward the slightly larger town of Antequera, choosing it only because it was on a green road on the map.<br />
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As I was getting close to Antequera I passed a small sign that said there was a wolf sanctuary just off the road. I couldn't resist; the biologist in me just had to go visit the animals. This wolf is Alaskan, and there is a lot of hope that she is going to have a litter soon.<br />
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I didn't know this: there are around 2,000 wild wolves left in the Iberian Peninsula. Here is one of them, although I guess it is not truly wild living in a sanctuary.<br />
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Besides the wolves, there were some other animals there as well. Mostly, these other animals are pets. Here is a pig (yes, they have wild pigs in Spain, but this guy is actually a Vietnamese pig that some people had in an apartment somewhere in Spain. If you are like me, you think that a pig is not a very good pet for apartment people..<br />
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Look at this old goat. I love his beard.<br />
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It turns out the town I was headed to for the night was a fortunate choice. It has about 45,000 people, and lots of scenic places to see. This church is directly across from my hotel.<br />
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This fountain is in the square where my hotel is located.<br />
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High up over the town is a fortress. Back in 1410 a leader named Fernando, along with his army of course, laid siege to the fortress. At that time, the fortress was built and occupied my the Moors. Fernando, being Christian, was eager to take it away from the infidels.<br />
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Of course, I had to walk up to see the fortress. There are some beautiful views back over the town from up there.<br />
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Oops. I jumped into the picture and ruined it. You might like this next one better.<br />
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I discovered this gateway on my way up to the fortress.<br />
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I really liked exploring the fortress. I found some old Roman baths there which were built about a thousand years before the fortress. The place had a nice garden as well.<br />
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Here is one final view of the town of Antequera.<br />
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I liked this town well enough that I have stayed here two days. That is kind of a record for me. Tomorrow I plan on following some more of those green-highlighted roads. I don't know for sure where I am going, but I guess I will be there when I finish for the day. Now though, it is coming on eight at night. They keep ringing the bells of the church across the courtyard. It is either a fire or time to eat. They do enjoy eating late here. In fact, cafes quit serving at 4 p.m. so that people can build their appetites, and the restaurants do not open until 8 p.m. So, time for this adventurer to go eat.<br />
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Adios, muchachos.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-21404701828441683332016-04-23T02:54:00.001-05:002016-04-23T02:54:38.977-05:00GibraltarI rode up from Casablanca to Tangier just a couple of days ago, riding along at about 70 miles per hour on a very nice four lane toll road. I arrived just in time to catch the ferry to Spain, although going through Moroccan customs to leave the country was so slow I didn't know if I would actually make the boat in time. By comparison, Spanish customs was a breeze. Once in Spain, I drove about 8 miles to a hostal I had booked the night before over the internet. It turned out to be a marvelous place. Ran and owned by a Canadian, it was clean and quiet and a delight to stay in. The following day I rode 10 miles to Gibraltar where I planned to explore for a couple of days.<br />
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Gibraltar is British; all that's left of the once vast British Empire. There was a long line of traffic waiting to get into the city/state, but it moved along quickly with customs giving only a cursory glance at passports. <br />
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I like the city of Gibraltar, but the hostal I had booked was terrible, dirty and smelling of fish. I won't list all the things it has wrong about it, but I found myself wishing I could go somewhere else. I couldn't though, because I would have had to pay the entire amount of my room anyway. Such are the chances you take when booking on the Internet. At about $50.00 a night, the filthy place was one of the most expensive I've stayed at on this trip; far more expensive at the clean and exotic $8.00 per night riads I had enjoyed in Morocco.<br />
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The tourist area of Gibraltar is quite nice, although crowded with Australians, Canadians, Americans, and European tourists. The natives of Gibraltar speak English, mostly, although their English is a sort of pidgin spoken very rapidly with dropped vowels and mangled consonants. They understand each other, but I couldn't understand them. They did know how to slow down and talk distinctly when talking to tourists.<br />
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Once thing I very much wanted to do was climb to the top of the "Rock"<br />
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I walked it, and there were a lot of others doing the same thing, but I could have taken a taxi, a tour, or a cable car up as well. Still, I enjoyed the exercise. The path started up through a lovely garden.<br />
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There were several sections to the garden, and one of those sections was put together by children.<br />
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Looking way off, one can see Africa over the Strait of Gibraltar.<br />
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One of those mountains in Africa, no one is sure which one, and the Rock of Gibraltar make up the Pillars of Hercules and mark the end of the world back in those long ago days of Greek and Roman myths. Beyond here was the fabled kingdom of Atlantis, and somewhere near here was the entrance to the underworld of Hades.<br />
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My path up the Rock of Gibraltar took me to a cave. The Romans knew about the cave. It is very deep and they probably never descended all the way into it. Was it the entrance to Hades? Today, it is brightly lighted.<br />
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Back during times of war the cave was used by the British as a sort of hospital. Now, the large entrance is used as a concert hall.<br />
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There are monkeys called Macaques all over the Rock of Gibraltar. Natives of Africa, they have lost their tails and so they are called Barbary Apes even though they are not apes at all. They are quite the tourist attraction.<br />
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Shortly after the War of American Independence, the British found themselves weak militarily, and the Spanish figured that would be a good time to wrest control of Gibraltar away from England. During the almost four year siege, the British took refuge on the Rock, honeycombing it with defensive tunnels.<br />
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The British cannons looked down on the Spanish forces and there were battles and sorties going on all the time. Eventually, the French joined the Spanish in trying to take Gibraltar, but they were never able to do so.<br />
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I had to laugh at this sign in the tunnels. The Brits have a different sort of way of expressing themselves. I mean, our heads often tell us to do the most goofy things, so minding them might get a person in trouble. Still, "mind your head" makes as much sense as the American order to "watch your head" which is an impossible thing to do as you walk along.<br />
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Look at the airport way down below. The road into the city/state of Gibraltar goes right across it. Once, the area where the airport is was a racetrack, but during World War II the racetrack was replaced by the airport which was used during the invasion of Africa. That invasion was commanded by General Eisenhower from Gibraltar and it was used as practice for the invasion of Europe. The British did not at all want to get rid of the racetrack, but there is no stopping progress.<br />
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I am glad I came to Gibraltar. Once, I mentioned to a Brit that I wanted to go visit Gibraltar and the response I got was "Why!!??" Maybe they don't think much of the place, but it was certainly worth a visit. Now, though, it is time for me to head back into Spain and up into the mountains. There are some quaint villages in southern Spain recommended to me as very good places to see. I am told the rides to them are spectacular.<br />
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<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-59947873288044712022016-04-19T14:01:00.001-05:002016-04-19T14:01:24.479-05:00CasablancaHello again from sunny, noisy Morocco. I was in Marrakesh just two days ago. Now I am in Casablanca. Both are large and somewhat unkempt. In Marrakesh, the best thing was the huge square deep in the old Medina.<br />
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It was a very interesting place to explore and people watch. There were snake charmers, magicians, bird trainers, men with monkeys to hug you for a fee, and musicians playing very fast music on instruments tuned in some sort of outrageous way. <br />
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Raucous as the square is during the day, at night it is packed with humanity. Better keep an eye on your wallet in there, and don't take a picture of anything or you will have to pay. Night is when the fake doctors come out, ready to heal anything from diabetes to flaccid male organs. For the women, there are henna painters ready to decorate arms, hands, feet or legs. And sundown is when all the food tents open up out on the square. Quite pushy, those men are who want you to eat at their stalls. One trip through there convinced me to not go through the food area again. I mean, how many meals do they think a man can eat?<br />
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Driving in the big cities of Marrakesh and Casablanca is exciting, to say the least. Traffic zips along, and carriages, scooters, buses, motorcycles, bicycles, walkers, and of course cars, require every bit of concentration a poor old man on a huge motorcycle can muster up.<br />
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I will say though that, despite all the horn honking, they do watch out for each other pretty carefully. And anything you do seems okay. Want to go the wrong way down a one way street? Want to make an illegal left hand turn across waves of incoming traffic? Want to make a U turn up and over the curb? Its okay man. No problem. And if you just can't handle it any more you can always get a ride in one of these contraptions-------<br />
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I left Marrakesh yesterday morning, and rode Odysseus north on a beautifully maintained, nearly traffic free toll road. I got into Casablanca in late afternoon and promptly got lost. I had made a beautifully hand drawn map of the route to my hotel, but since almost none of the streets have street signs, I could not at all figure out where I was. All I knew was that my map had no relationship to reality. I stopped several times to ask corner police and taxi drivers how to get to Hotel Washington where I am staying, and they were always helpful with their directions. One taxi driver said that I should follow him, and he twisted his way down narrow streets until he got me close to my hotel. I was within two or three blocks of it, but I still couldn't find it even though I rode around in the rushing traffic for quite a long time, getting more and more lost. Finally, I hired a taxi driver to lead me there. I didn't even mind that he stopped to pick up three more fares along the way.<br />
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So, here I am. I am kind of splurging on this room, but it is nice, and the motorcycle is secure down in the sandy underground parking area under the hotel.<br />
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I have been walking around Casablanca, and I have found that the guidebook was right: there is pretty much nothing here to see or do. It is simply a loud and gritty city. However, it does have the third largest mosque in the world, after Medina and Mecca.<br />
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I decided to get fancy with this picture taken some distance away from the Hassan II Mosque. I hope you like it.<br />
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Here is another picture. I debated about putting this one on the blog after I realized it looked like a big phallus.<br />
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It was about noon when I got to the mosque, having walked through the Ancenne Medina on my way there. I couldn't go into the mosque until three in the afternoon. That left me time to go eat a pizza and settle in for some people watching and sneaky pictures.<br />
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There were people there from all over the world, and most of them were taking pictures of each other. The man here was trying to tell his friend how to adjust the camera. He was not aware that I was taking his picture from across the way.<br />
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I learned later that these giant doors are made of titanium. They used that expensive metal because it is not affected by salt from the ocean which is just behind the mosque. There has to be a lot of doors because on a holy day there are as many as 25,000 worshipers in the mosque, and as many as 80,000 out in the courtyard.<br />
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Once inside, the first thing a good Muslim must do is wash. Twenty-five thousand worshipers need a lot of ablution fountains. They are downstairs in the mosque. This picture shows a tiny fraction of the fonts. And there is an identical set, or so I a told, on the other side of a walled off area for women.<br />
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Up in the main hall, it is easy to see how 25,000 people could kneel, facing Mecca, in there.<br />
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I guess you have to bring your own kneeling mat if you want to worship there, but the floor is heated so I guess it is pretty comfortable. And look at the ceiling. On a warm summer day they can open it in three minutes to let out the heat and let in the cooling ocean air.<br />
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Look at the balcony. It is for women. They are walled off so that men will not be distracted by feminine beauty as they pray down on the main floor. Rather a misogynist group I think, but then to each his own.<br />
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So, as I say, there is just not much other than the mosque to attract somebody to Casablanca. I am going to hop on Odysseus and high tail it out of here for Tangier tomorrow. Once there I plan to catch a late ferry to Spain where I have a small room reserved for tomorrow night. I walked part of my route today, just enough to get me on the right road in the morning. I'll let you know how it works out. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Time now to go find some supper.<br />
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Ron<br />
<br />Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6361194867611863215.post-42775300576479362982016-04-16T17:04:00.000-05:002016-04-16T17:04:05.945-05:00Through the Atlas Mountains to Marrakesh<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I left the sand dunes early in the morning, heading west toward Marrakesh. I won't get there for two days however. Although I had left the sand dunes of Erg Chebbi behind, I was still in the Sahara Desert. As I rode along I passed several towns built at an oasis where somehow underground water comes close enough to the surface to support life.</div>
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The people who live in these oasis towns often do their work on donkeys, living as their ancestors must have done back in those long ago days of caravans and Romans and Bible heroes.<br />
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My goal for the day was to get to the famous Todra (or Todgha) Gorge at the south edge of the Atlas Mountains. Visiting that gorge is one of the top things to do in Morocco. Here is Odysseus looking at the entrance to the gorge. Maybe he was more interested in the motorcycles over there on the left than he was in the gorge.. See any female bikes over there Odysseus? Hmmm. He won't answer me.<br />
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As you can tell, we are down at the bottom of the gorge.<br />
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There is a lot of activity in that gorge. Tourists were walking around taking pictures, and Moroccans had stands set up to sell things to those tourists.<br />
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I liked it a lot in there.<br />
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After exploring Todra Gorge, it was time to move on down the Atlas Mountain chain to another gorge, this one not quite so famous. It is called Dades Gorge, and this one you have to look at from far up on the road.</div>
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I don't know if you can see how deep the gorge is in that last picture, but I can tell you that it is a long way down to the bottom. Perhaps this picture looking back at the road Odysseus and I came up will give you some idea.</div>
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Old Moroccan buildings are sometimes perched in the most precarious positions.</div>
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I stayed the night at a Riad just down the road from the gorge. I was the only one there. The hostess, a beautiful Moroccan woman, made me an evening supper which was probably the most tasty of any I have had in Morocco. Here is a picture of my bed for the night. Is there really a need to surround yourself with mosquito netting in the desert? Somehow I don't think so.</div>
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When I got up this morning there was a marvelous breakfast waiting for me: fried eggs, bread, yogurt, jams and jellies. I loved it.</div>
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My first stop today was in the Moroccan town of Ouarzazate. It is at the far northern edge of the desert, and it has been the location of several films. I stopped there to see some of the film sets. Most of them had to do with Bible stories, at least on the sets I visited;.</div>
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Here was the throne room in several movies.</div>
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Here is a list of some of the Biblical movies made here.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSndfuEIPsf-QCWIq3jFKIw5lhvm3dnXKJqlqkRoR_6C-Sp3gbpzkCbrZM9tkth-h2IEMedhUZ8eMKWERfxxq60P4gZhgLJDEtgCRyAv4vVWljb6Xijk-aMGhh4xsPqstRGhtQvvef-CU/s1600/DSC02484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSndfuEIPsf-QCWIq3jFKIw5lhvm3dnXKJqlqkRoR_6C-Sp3gbpzkCbrZM9tkth-h2IEMedhUZ8eMKWERfxxq60P4gZhgLJDEtgCRyAv4vVWljb6Xijk-aMGhh4xsPqstRGhtQvvef-CU/s640/DSC02484.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I didn't recognize any of those films, but, if they are to be believed, they also shot "Lawrence of Arabia," "The Mummy," "Gladiator" and many other movies here. They also shot parts of television's "Game of Thrones" here in Ouarzazate.</div>
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Leaving Ouarzazate I headed up and over the Atlas mountains. They were doing a lot of work on the road up there, and it was dusty going.</div>
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I was more than ready to be off the motorcycle and to knock the dust of myself with a shower once I reached Marrakesh. Now I am settled into a nice hotel room for the night after going out and eating a good meal. I plan to be here at least tow nights, maybe more, exploring this vibrant, modern city. </div>
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Ron</div>
Ron Youngshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03090554234013552643noreply@blogger.com0