Wild Wanderings

Wild Wanderings has moved...

2010-05-12T18:16:00.000-07:00

Hello my lovely blog readers.

I moved my blog to a new location. Wild Wanderings has become part of my Website Unusual Travel Destinations.

I hope to see you there! Just click here and we'll meet again.

Thank You, Fida

Greetings from Zürich

2010-03-22T17:35:00.000-07:00

While running through a small part of Zürich's old town I managed to capture a few spring impressions.

Looking at these pictures, you wouldn't think that these photos were made in Switzerland's busiest town.

But there are still small and charming pockets that are filled with local life.

Ok, the real reason I was running for was a delicious meal waiting outdoors at a little eatery; goat cheese, sun dried tomatoes, olives and roasted vegetables in olive oil with crusty bread.

Funny Signs

2010-03-07T17:47:00.001-08:00

I don't know if I even want to know :)

Arctic Views

2010-03-02T11:31:00.000-08:00

The Ice-Crown of Denmark

The world’s largest Island is 52 times bigger than the Danish motherland (autonomous country within the Kingdom of Denmark) , and lies half way between Europe and North America. The view from the airplane to the majestic landscape is fascinating.

The last time I flew the route – ok, it wasn’t me, it was KLM’s pilot – the weather-god regaled us with brilliant weather to show us the beauty of ice and snow.

Of course, what you see here is just a small part of the arctic landscape. There’s much more to Greenland and looking at that stunning landscape with mountains as high as 3700 m, I dream of visiting one day places like Nuuk, the capital – founded by the missionary apostle Hans Egede; Anmagssalik with it's colourful wooden houses - also the name of the small species of Greenland salmon, or Thule, the probably coldest place on Earth with temperatures falling to minus 60 degree C. Once a week they fly in from Copenhagen and in summer even from Island.

It is almost unimaginable that people and animals survive in that desert-like icy landscape. But there are Geysers in the south around Sydproven; Fjords full of flowers in the summer - even a canyon called flower-valley with more than 50 known species that rise every spring anew. The contrasts couldn’t be bigger.

Of course, Greenland’s biggest resource is ice. But as we know it, that can change pretty fast…

Getting closer to Buffin Island...

Welcome back in Vancouver.

The Whimzey Twinz of Safety Harbor

2010-02-21T18:45:00.000-08:00

Weird Roadside Attraction in Florida!

Kiaralinda and Tod lead a very colourful life. Their whole backyard, house - in- and outside - is one huge canvas and playground for their imagination.

It is home to more than 700 bowling balls. Painted, feathered, collaged, sprayed...

They crate art cars....

...large-scale Art pieces for exhibitions and private collectors and all kinds of whimsy art - from necklaces to mobiles and garden art.

And when they were finished with their little cottage, they bought the house across the street and started to "mexicanise" it, the third became a Hawaiian dream and the fourth house a Caribbean beauty.

Want to know more? Go on, and read on here!

Wish You Were Here

2010-02-10T15:27:00.001-08:00

No, it’s not what I was thinking when I thought of you, my dear bloggie-friends:)

It’s the title of the latest art show at the SAGA Public Art Gallery in Salmon Arm, BC.

The days of government funding for public art galleries have been wiped out almost completely last September. The Government cut Canada’s investment in the arts a staggering 85% - from $48 million last year to $3.6 million for 2010.

It’s especially hard to take in the year of the Olympic games. Their budget gets tuned up almost on a daily basis. Alone the security budget, originally estimated at $175 million, has ballooned to nearly $1 billion.

Public Art Galleries already funded their exhibits through non-government sources and are now even more struggling then ever.

What would a world be without art?
What would we even know about the world without art?

“Wish You Were Here” is one of the sale events the SAGA Art Gallery has organized. The call for originally painted, collaged, pottered Postcards went out. Over 200 original works have arrived from as far as Japan, Holland, New Zealand and as close as Tappen, Canoe, and Armstrong…amongst many others.

The postcards are for sale, and proceeds go towards a scholarship for a visual arts student.

Once a month, the gallery hosts a Family Saturday – free of charge. Just drop in and engage in the fun.

This time, they are creating postcard art to be auctioned off as well.

Lynn, herself a reputable artist, volunteers at the art gallery. I not only admire her paintings, but especially her sculptural work, often incorporated in found objects.

Drew Pastuck moved from Eden, Manitoba to Salmon Arm, BC (yes, there’s another Eden). His large and colourful artwork can be seen at different exhibitions, though he makes ends meet as a cabinetmaker. Drew dropped in at the Gallery and entertained the visitors with his delightful performance at the piano.

The postcards will be auctioned of on
Saturday, February 27, 2010.

The gallery is open Tuesday to Saturday, 11am to 4pm.

With glowing hearts...

2010-01-28T00:41:00.000-08:00

Day 90 - The Olympic Torch traveled January 27, 2010 through Sorrento today.

The Weather couldn't have been better to welcome the torch bearer.
But where's the snow?

Getting ready...

Dressing the part!

Here they come...

The Flame...

Melinda Kunhegyi, a former Olympian carried the torch through Sorrento.

The Mascots - Sumi (the animal spirit), Quatchi (the shy sasquatch) and Miga (the young sea bear) carved by a local wave good bye the torch bearer.
By the way, Quatchi became quite a celebrity and has his own FanSites.

What’s cookin’ on Christmas?

2009-12-28T18:28:00.000-08:00

When TravelWriter told me he had enjoyed a Raclette on Christmas Eve, I knew I was not the only one that had broken with tradition. My celebratory food is Fondue.

I grew up in the Swiss Alps - so all things buttery, cheesy, creamy and milky were a daily staple. I admit I am an addict, a gourmet, a cheese snob. I am fussy; I don’t eat just about anything. That Kraft stuff one finds in Canadian stores doesn’t make it on my table. Consequently, cheese has become a rarity in my household.

When GOM#2 and I explored Eastern Canada, Quebec was “cheese and bread heaven” for me. I ate cheese for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert. If you read my “Ice Fishing” post, you know GOM#2 is never at a loss for a quick and witty answer. The ones who know him personally know that it is almost impossible to shut him up. I am proud to say I did it. He’s not one who likes food, in fact, I had to promise not to drag him more than twice daily into a Restaurant – Tim Horton’s drive through for coffee and an early dinner was all he was willing to commit to.

Before entering New Brunswick, I stocked up on cheese and splurged a hundred bucks on a few bits. This was truly beyond him. He didn’t say much for quite some time and was too week to protest when I announced it was time for a picnic. He even chewed on a bit of bread and a bird bite of cheese, but mainly he was hanging on to his beer, staring holes into the air and wondering how the hell he deserved that freakin’ cheese nut on this trip.

Anyway, it was Christmas and I deserved a treat. With or without any specific religious belief, this is the time to fulfil that intrinsic human need for celebration.

What is your favourite festive food for your traditional feast?

Happy Holidays ♥

2009-12-24T08:20:00.000-08:00

♥ ♥ ♥

♥ ♥ ♥I Wish You a Merry♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Christmas♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ I Wish You a Merry ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Christmas
♥ ♥ ♥I Wish You A Merry ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Christmas ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪...And A Happy New Year!♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪... Copy and paste~keep the wave going! ♥ ♥ ♥

My Top Three Travel Secrets

2009-12-19T17:00:00.000-08:00

I've been tagged.

Donna Hull over at My Itchy Travel Feet hit me with a tag and told me to reveal my three top travel secrets.

Three?

Only three?

Where to start! I found little secret spots wherever I traveled. But o.k. then, I will limit myself to only three. On second thought, do I really want to reveal "my secrets"? They wouldn't be secrets anymore, would they?

Then again, it's pretty hard too to come up with three secrets; after all, we live in a travel-crazed world. Everybody seems to have been everywhere. Barbara at the Hole in the Donut did a clever thing; she kept her secret spots to herself but revealed three little known secrets for booking last minute accommodations and transportation around the world without breaking the bank.

Anyway, here are my Top Three Travel Secrets:

#1 Alpine Hike in Safien, Switzerland

I mentioned Safien earlier when I wrote about the "Seelenfenster". Safien is a scenic drive up a narrow and rugged valley, through tunnels and stretches of one-way traffic because it is too steep and narrow for a two-lane road.

They advertise just about every activity they have to offer. From white water river rafting to skiing, from horseback riding to lama trekking - but they keep the secret of the brilliant spring flower meadows to themselves.

As soon as the snow recedes, the meadows explode into brilliant carpets of spectacular flowers. Mauve, yellow and white crocuses rush bravely toward the spring sun, followed by the crimson alpine roses, primulas, forget-me-nots, violets in pinks and blues, soldanella, columbines, campanulas, anemones, sweet alyssum, sedums, the dazzling gentian and saxifrages just to name a few. Large arrays of medicinal plants rarely seen elsewhere can still be found up here.

The best time for spring flower sighting is between mid April to mid June, though Safien is worth a visit any time of the year.

# 2 La Gomera - Island of the Mountains

I came for a day and stayed for a week.

La Gomera is the second smallest of the seven Islands that make up the Canary archipelago. I fell immediately in love with its wild and dramatic beauty. Deep, rugged canyons with bizarre rock formations and lush valleys intersperse with evergreen forests of needle, laurel and heather trees. Luscious banana plantations and palm trees thrive in the Mediterranean climate. Goodies grow happily and in abundance in the fertile volcanic soil on terraced fields. The diversity of the landscape couldn't be more varied. The colours - from the sky to the sea, the rocks to the greenery and flowers seemed to be so much more intense than everywhere else I've been.

Each turn brought another fascinating viewpoint. Sparkling white washed hamlets dot the slopes. No wonder the Eldorado for hikers and courageous bikers is a UNESCO heritage since 1986.

Gomera is part of Spain, though geographically closer to North Africa - but don't call them Spaniards, not even Canarians. They are very proud of their heritage and see themselves as Gomerans. I loved their aloofness toward strangers. I was invited numerous times to eat and drink amongst them and was treated as if I were a neighbour dropping by for a chat - no fuss, mo muss. They don't give a hoot if you like them or not.

The climate is that of eternal spring. I seriously contemplated a move, instead, I ended up in the harsh climate of Canada - maybe that is what triggers my memory of this precious little Island so often.

Traditions and folklore are taken seriously and the whistle language El Silbo is kept alive. Only here will you find the whistling language in which the Gomerans once used to communicate with each other across the valleys.

#3 Fall in Eastern Canada

Ok, that's not really a secret. But it is an exceptional yearly recurrence. Even if you know about it, to experience the fall colours in Eastern Canada (and New England) close up is a spectacle you won't forget. Photos don't do the flamboyant colours justice - believe me. On a rainy day, I drove along a northern Ontario highway when suddenly the sun appeared from behind and shot her light into the grey sky in front of me. The colours of the foliage burst to life and I had to stop on the side of the road as not to collide with other drivers. I watched the breathtaking drama for quite some time - I don't use that word lightly - but the scene literally took my breath away.

To enjoy that glorious fall spectacle from Ontario all the way to Nova Scotia and down to New York you can take a drive, though I would recommend a train ride for the scenery is just too precious to miss.

And now comes the best part. I can tag five more members of the blogging community!

Mridula from Travel Tales from India
Vamsee over at Let's Go For A Vacation
Lakshmi, the Indian Backpacker
Cairo Tyo0 at Wandering the World
Zoë, the Quirky Traveller

There - it's your turn!

The Crazy Canucks

2009-12-11T15:12:00.000-08:00

Here’s a little addition to my last post about ice fishing in Canada.
Crazy Canucks indeed ;-)

Ice Fishing

2009-11-22T16:19:00.000-08:00

Soon, it will be time to get the fisher huts out of storage and back on Canada’s frozen lakes. It’s a much loved and cherished pastime. Small villages spring up of nowhere and dot the horizon.

When I lived in my cabin back in Ontario one of those awfully nice neighbours offered me to fetch the water in his fisher hut. That way, I wouldn’t have to hack ice every day to get to the golden fluid.

Have you ever seen the film “Grumpy Old Men” played by Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau? Well, when I entered that fisher hut, I felt immediately transplanted into one of their scenes.

Two Grumpy Old Men (GOM) were sitting silently in the toasty warmth of the woodstove heated hut, hanging their ruts into the auger-drilled holes. The atmosphere was thick as molasses just not as sweet. I was wondering if I should have stuck to the way-of-the-axe to get to the water.

GOM#1 told me to ladle the water out of GOM#2's hole because “I just pissed in this one here.”

While I was filling my buckets the awkward silence between the two was broken by GOM#1 – and to this day, I don’t know what triggered his outburst.

“I am just glad I am way younger than you are. When you’ll hit the ground I’ll throw an extra shovel of dirt on top of you.”

Quicker as an unexpected fart GOM#2, with a nasty little under-tone in his calm voice, replied: “That’s not for sure. I still owe your wife a favour.”

With that, my buckets and I headed out the door faster than they could say good-bye.

The View from Here

2009-11-17T12:44:00.000-08:00

My bed shook violently and that pulled me out of my dreams. I stared into the pitch-dark night and didn’t know if I had just come out of a nightmare or if that was an earthquake I experienced.

Confused, I listened to the noise coming from in- and outside the house. It sounded as if the roof was ripped of the walls; the walls cracked, the doors squealed and I felt a breeze even though the windows were closed – I was enveloped in natures screams.

Of course, the electricity had gone out. I went outside to see if things were still standing were they where supposed to be just to turn around at once. Earth filled flowerpots flew around like empty cardboard boxes and the set of heavy wooden chairs in front of my neighbour’s entrance threatened to attack me. The trees almost folded over one of the houses and branches flew through the air like kites. What a storm!

Lately we are having April weather in October – oh wait, it’s already November. The view from my window changes on an hourly rate and the temperature doesn’t know where to settle.

The pictures show the change in only 24 hours – from a sunny, calm and colourful fall day to winter and back to late fall – notice the leaves are gone except for the most stubborn ones.

I just made the last photo and it looks like nothing had happened in the dark of the night.

Around the World on Solar Power

2009-11-12T12:53:00.000-08:00

With our love for mobility, we still depend and consume millions of tons of petrol and other fossil fuels each day, and despite all the warnings and talks about sustainable development, we are still a long way from using alternative energy on a grand level.

Bertrand Piccard, a charismatic Swiss who made the first non-stop round-the-world-balloon flight dares to dream once again, and it wouldn't be the first time that he succeeds to turn his dream into reality. With his pioneering spirit, he set out to demonstrate, that circumnavigating the world, using new technology, could be accomplished.

On November 6, 2009, the Solar Impulse team brought the HB-SIA prototype out of its construction hall and tested its 4 engines for the first time.

"For the whole team, the impression of seeing it completely assembled, majestically reigning over the Dübendorf tarmac (near Zürich)was very intense! We just can't wait to see it fly, culminating 6 years of work", said Piccard.

Though it's not the first solar airplane imagined by man - solar aviation began with reduced models in the 1970s - it's certainly the most ambitious. The aim is to have an airplane take off and fly autonomously, day and night, propelled uniquely by solar energy, right around the world without fuel or pollution.

Asked if he thinks that it would be possible to replace conventional airlines with solar ones in the near future, Piccard said: "Currently, technology only allows the transport of a single person on a flight of 24 hours, and then with a wingspan of 60 to 80 meters. But if we go back into history, when the great Wright brothers got their first plane to fly a distance of 200 meters in 1903, could they have imagined that 66 years later, two men would walk on the moon?"

In a few days they will be ready to taxi along the runway, and between now and the end of 2009, the HB-SIA will take off for the first time, if only for a moment. A complete flight over Switzerland is planned for 2010, and the circumnavigation of the world, that will take place in five stages and last several days, is programmed for 2010.

"The pioneer is not always the one who succeeds,
but the one who is not scared to fail."

~ Bertrand Piccard

A support Program

In response to demands form many enthusiasts, Solar Impulse offers a program especially reserved for people wanting to participate in the adventure and to express their support of the project's philosophy. Supporters can enrol on The Solar Impulse website to receive news in real time, to adopt a solar cell on the wing, reserve a VIP visit at the Solar Impulse base, or place their names on the aircraft's fuselage.

Art or Crime?

2009-11-08T21:04:00.000-08:00

CP Rail was crawling painfully slow along while I was waiting to cross the tracks. Almost every wagon of the long snaky train was sprayed with graffiti. Some samples you see in the slide-show below.

The information behind graffiti can be very different. Sometimes political messages are translated into paintings and sayings or subcultures and rebels revolt against authority with anger.

To some it is an art form worthy of display in galleries. No doubt, there are stunning examples of graffiti to find all over the world. In most countries, though it's considered vandalism, which is punishable by law.

Graffiti is not a new form of free expression and political communication. It has existed since ancient times, dating back to Ancient Greece and the Roman Empire.

Visual pollution or Art? What say?

Amazing Blogger Friends

2009-11-04T19:46:00.000-08:00

So, here I am, back again – I think ;-)

I started this blog to satisfy the curiosity of my friends back in the old country and around the world. Foolishly, I thought, this way I wouldn’t have to answer the same questions over and over again. The thing is though, they still ask and never read my blog!

But something unexpected happened. I found friends here in the blogsphere I never knew would be possible. Some even pretend to wait for another post of mine. I am touched.

Right when I was about to give up and delete my blog altogether, Annie surprised me with a proximity award. By the way did you read her brilliant "Julia&Julie" book review? Go on, head over there, I’ll wait.

Of course, the raving reporter Mr. Ramesh downright pestered me all those month of absence. Braja was a little gentler and so was Lilly, Carla and Mridula,who is a brand new mum to a gorgeous baby-brat-girl. Vamsee,that brilliant raconteur got a tiny bit mad at me for not posting – not even a photo.

Other friends pushed gently with a nod here and there, and some even became followers on the FB-NetworkBlog site, even though they got nothing more than old news.

Of course, there’s always an excuse. I was swimming in work and in the lake, had too much fun with visiting friends and not enough hours in a day. Being scatter-brained and a procrastinator is anything else but helpful. Blogging seemed to become a second job, especially if one isn’t language savvy like all of you, and anyway, I needed the time to meditate. Yes, I know, I promised to write about it, but I wont, that ship has sailed.

Oh, and I could blame my absence on the dictionary. The broken back needs mending. Some pages are leading a loose life and some are even lost. And so am I without it.

Next to my bread and butter job I started a new website – Unusual Travel Destinations. It’s just a baby and growing slowly. But at least it brought me back into the habit of sitting down and writing.

Ok, I admit, the real reason was that I wanted to wait until I had over 60 comments.

Is this statutory rape?

2009-02-05T11:53:00.001-08:00

....or is It just a moosedemeanor?

No, No – I am not back. Time Out is still in effect!

But I couldn’t resist sharing this with you.

(Gee, it looks as if I am as desperate as this guy!)

Photos: GekoTales.com

Time Out

2009-02-04T12:46:00.001-08:00

I’ll take a brake from blogging for a while,

because I have to fly to the moon.

No, seriously, I am ‘all over the place’ right now and nowhere close to that serene scene the picture above radiates. There is no way I can do everything I would like to at the moment. Mid March, I will travel to Europe for a month, and there is so much to do before I leave. That means I have to give up a few things and focus on those who have priority.

I still will visit your blogs, my friends, in those special moments in between when I need a treat and have to recharge my battery!

So long for a while and Love your way!

Elephants and Compassion

2009-01-26T19:57:00.000-08:00

Monthly calendar from Africa

It’s been crowded and busy around my place since I am back from my meditation retreat, and I wasn’t able to write down my experience. In fact, I didn’t have time to blog at all. And for once, dear Ramesh over at Global-Madrasi , it doesn’t have anything to do with procrastinating.
He’s pushin’ it a bit (pestering me, really, on a daily basis). To stop him I have no other chance then to use those 5 minutes I could have slept longer (are you feeling guilty, eh?) to write something, ANYTHING! (just to get him off my back!).

I love Elephants, and they co-habit my space, in all shapes and sizes. I could elaborate, but see above, time is not on my side right now. So, I take the easy way out and borrowed the following video from Sandi over at Lucky Tirteen Plus One.

Turns out, Elephants don’t need a meditation course to show kindness and compassion in its purest form!

Enjoy!

Wherever You Go – There You Are!

2009-01-06T21:41:00.000-08:00

"I am going to have a workout for the consciousness!"

Grant yourself a moment of peace,
And you will understand
How foolishly you have scurried about.
Learn to be silent,
And you will notice that
You have talked too much.
Be kind,
And you will realize that
Your judgment of others was too severe.

~ Ancient Chinese Proverb

My mind is in a terrible state of disorder; my attention span is – well – record braking short. I am distracted easily, and I am a procrastinator extraordinaire. I have good intentions. Oh yes. Thousands of them.

I was told that I don’t have to solve those problems on my own, just meditate, they say, and they will dissolve. The main purpose of meditation, they say, is to undo our bad “conditioning”.

So, I meditate – off and on for more than 15 years. But like I sad, I am an awful distracted person. I let anything and everybody divert my attention, and I am a terrible procrastinator. Every evening I have that glorious intention that I will meditate in the morning. Every morning my clock rings at 4:30 am, scares the hell out of me, gives me heart palpitations – especially when I just went to bed 3 hours earlier – did I mention that I am a procrast...? Oh well. I turn around, slip deeper under the covers – it’s so warm, and cozy, and comforting… just a minute or so – I doze off and I am gone, back to dreamland.

My bad conscious wakes me up an hour later. I start to meditate and can’t concentrate because I am mad at myself that I procrastinated again – my brain chatters back and forth and keeps me entertained. It takes me ages to get to that spot I could have been hours before.

Oh those trappings.

I know I am not the only procrastinator here. Ther's at least one more; it helps to know, but that doesn't solve MY problem.

According to science, meditation is good for the heart, quiets the mind, strengthens the immune system, increases vitality, and awakens creativity.

Propaganda you say?

Even if the propaganda is true, it is said that the moment those aspects enter the field of meditation, the whole practice is ruined. The moment one introduces a goal to meditation, it is gone.

I need help.

I have one more confession (the rest I will keep to myself): I do nothing at all – or everything at once. I am the queen of multitasking. And that, they say, is not very efficient.

I really need help!

Ok, now I am going to solve all those problems at once. I am taking a meditation course. Not a one-day course – pfff – I did several of them and what did they do to me? Just more of the above. And, like I said, I am not a step-by-step person.

I am going to attend a 10-day Vipassana Meditation Course. Intensive. Yes, that’s me! I will practice “Noble Silence” for the entire 10 days – no communication of any kind. There will be no talking, no physical contact – not even a blink with an eye to my neighbour. No books!

NO BOOKS??!!

I am not allowed to read, write or listen to music. No physical exercise (that’s ok), I can’t lie (thank goodness to the silence), no killing of an animal (glad it’s not mosquitoe season), complete celibacy (oh my) and I have to leave my drugs (I am talking weeds and Mike H’s Hot Toddy’s here, not Advil) at home.

Maybe you hear again from me. After January 21, 2009

If I survive.

A Potpourri of Lifestyles

2009-01-04T16:27:00.000-08:00

I love to step inside the daily lives of people around the globe. I feel honoured when they allow me a private look at their unique way of life, be that my own culture or far away.

Does that make me a voyeur? (Heck, that would be a criminal offence in Canada).

Nothing is more exhilarating to me when I travel than take every opportunity given to me (or else I threaten everyone if they don’t let me in) to get an insight look into other lifestyles.

Consequently, my own style is somewhat… mixed up!

The other day we bloggers asked Braja a lot of very private questions and wanted to know everything about her daily life, which, of course, she answered promptly in her unique and amusing way. But then, Braja (that nosy yogini) turned around and asked me to show her my sari I was bragging about. Because of that sari I had to paint a wall in orange (go figure). When I come downstairs in the morning and the sun peeks through the windows - I could lick my walls (now, THAT makes me a loony).

Here it is, my beautiful
silk sari (saree), doing
duty as a curtain in my
entrance. I bought it
almost 20 years ago in
Delhi – and look at the
colours – still vibrant
like new!

The rod is a branch I found on one of my walks - beautifully carved art by worms!

If you must, you can see more of my ‘con-fusion’ decorating style here.

Have A Fabulous 2009

2008-12-31T00:55:00.001-08:00

Ready to celebrate the beginning of a New Year?

Cheer, joy, and love YOUR way!

May all your wishes come true!

Did you make resolutions?

I am with Anais Nin on this one: “I made no resolutions for the New Year. The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me.”

Got Milk?

2008-12-22T19:13:00.001-08:00

Life is a banquet ...

CPR Holiday Cheer

2008-12-19T22:16:00.000-08:00

"North America's largest Foodbank Fundraiser"

A couple of nights ago the brightly decorated Canadian Pacific Holiday train passed through our community. It has become a much loved and awaited event of lights and entertainment for all ages. And even though it was beastly cold, everyone was cheering and having fun!

What began in 1999 with a few communities and only a handful of lights on a freight train has grown to North America’s largest food bank fundraiser. Everything collected at the event stays in the community to help those less fortunate.

Since its launch in 1999, the Holiday Train program has raised more than CAD 2.3 million and 506 tons of food for North American food banks.

Today, the CPR Holiday train is a 14-car freight train, which includes a boxcar converted into a special stage featuring this year Canadian Country Music Hall of Fame member Tracey Brown and Canadian Country Music Awards winner Johnny Reid. It’s decorated with over 8,000 LED Christmas lights and other decorations to shine a bright light on the serious issue of hunger in communities.

Hundreds of CPR employees volunteer for the special fundraising journey every year - many taking their vacations to work on each train.

May you all have a miraculous Holiday and a

wonderful time between the years!

Shoes as a Statement

2008-12-17T20:20:00.000-08:00

“I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes,
I had one thousand and sixty.”
~Imelda Marcos

Growing up, my siblings and I hated shoes. We wanted to be barefoot all the time, feeling the mud between our toes and running light-footed over stone and grass. It gave us a feeling of freedom – and, of course, freed us from the much-hated shoe shining procedure.

Come winter we gladly went back to wearing shoes. Every day on my way to school, I came by this shoe shop that had just the right pair of winter boots for me in the window, a pair made of fine sheepskin with a rubber sole. My heart was racing and my fear, that someone else would get these boots, growing by the day while I was finding a reason to tell my parents about my deep desire for these boots. Somehow, I managed to convince my father to buy them for me. But he made it very clear that they

a) would be part of my Christmas present, and
b) should be big enough to last at least 2 winters.

What can I say - more than 40 years later – these boots are still too big for my feet!

Shoes became a fashion statement long before the TV Hit “Sex and the City”. Catherine de Medici (1510 – 1589), a Florentine who later became Queen of France was not only blamed for starting the French “Wars on Religion”; the invention of high heels is typically attributed to her. Her heels were a wild success and they soon were associated with privilege.

Shoes are a whole psychological issue. They have become a status symbol. A shoeless person is bereft of culture and civilization. He or she is as far away from the “well-healed” person that can afford just about anything as I am from the Queen of England.

Jeans and Manolos, miniskirt and uggs, school uniforms and Gucci sneakers – a pair of $500 shoes can make a statement where clothing has become minimal.

Shoes are main characters in fairytales – from “Cinderella’s slippers” to “The Red Shoes.” One finds weird shoe customs all around the world; from a boot throwing competition in New Zealand to flinging shoes onto power lines, telephone cables and trees in North America, and throwing shoes at other people as a gesture of extreme disrespect in Asia – shoes are not merely footwear, they have truly become a statement.

Ugich Konitari over at Gappa is a gifted and inspiring storyteller. Please check out her article on “Footwear weaponry in the modern world,” were she effortlessly weaves the Bush event into the custom of wearing shoes in India and Audabai’s story of using her shoes as… but read for yourself.

We've Got Snow...

2008-12-12T18:27:00.000-08:00

...finally!

Do you love that fluffy stuff too?

It’s not much yet, but at least the snow is on its way.

That’s the view out my window. Today.

When the first snow fell back in Switzerland this year my niece sent me an sms even before she was really out of bed. I could feel her excitement, which turned me on and I shrieked: “Aaaaaeeeeeeee they’ve got snoooow”. My friend Nory gave me a concerned look as if I just got all loony and yelled back: “What’s wrong with you people.”

Well, what can I say! She’s Canadian. She’s a snowbird candidate.

I can’t resist posting a few photos made by my friend Annemarie’s daughter on their first ski trip this year.

She's excellent and composes her photos like paintings. Just perfect. They are from the area I grew up, called Prättigau; a Valley between Landquart and Klosters-Davos.

Ok, that’s the last time (I think?) that I brag about Graubünden.

So here we go. I shut up and let you enjoy the photos.

Ok now, can I say something?

Aren't they... just out of this world?

I kept the best for last. But that's just one woman's opinion!

I'm done!

Angel Blessings From The Sky

2008-12-10T15:07:00.000-08:00

Troubled dreams, a restless night.
A morning full of spills.
No time for tea or waking up.
Hurry, hurry… we are late!
Running breathless through the day.
Twirling thoughts and fleeting time.
Ah, the hell with Clay!

I tilt my head and close my eyes
And when I open them
I see angels in the skies!

And all is good!

An other Postcard from Graubünden!

2008-12-08T13:32:00.000-08:00

"Graubünden – Grischun – Grigioni"

In Graubunden we speak three different languages – all official and spoken in parliament. Graubunden, the largest, but the least populated Kanton of Switzerland (a bit over 188’000 people) would fit about six and a half times into Nova Scotia!

68% speak German, 15% Romantsch, 10% Italian
and 7% other languages.

The problem is - we are lovers of diversity. We "Bündner" cherish our uniqueness. Some call us separatists. Others megalomaniacs. As I mentioned in an earlier post: I am not Swiss, I am a Bündner. There. Every village speaks a different dialect and it’s even worse in the Romantsch population – these 15% speak different idioms; Sutsilvan, Surmiran, Putér, Vallader and Sursilvan.

Any wonder we need a dictionary?

The Ultimate Love Charm

2008-12-05T12:55:00.000-08:00

"An other kind of Diamant…"

… and men, you have to risk your life for it!

"Edelweiss" (noble-white)
– the jewel of the Alps - stuff for poetry and love struck men.

Who wants to have a diamant, if one can get an Edelweiss?

The silky white flower is the “Ultimate Love Charm” of the mountains; the flower that melt’s women’s hearts and makes man do risky things.

Who said a merriage proposal is an easy thing? Marriage for sure isn’t, so you better get used to it early. Machismo still blooms in our region of the Alps (no offence, dear Bünder). But, oh boy, do they ever have to suffer before they even get engaged (it's a mirage you see, not a smile on my lips).

If a man wants to prove his love to his future wife, he will have to risk his life and climb up the rocky Alps and find Edelweiss. The flower is hard to find and even harder to reach; it prefers limestone to soil and grows in those hard to access crags and ledges between 1800 – 2000 m altitude.

Sure, one can grow them in Alpine Gardens, but boys, don’t even try it. We’ll recognise those weeklings at once!

Of course, there’s a reward – and I am not talking about marriage. I talk about an other Alpine flower of songs and medicine and fairytales.

"The Enzian."

Once the man comes home - hopefully safe and sound (but don’t count on it) – he has to tend to his scratched knees, bloody hands and other hurting body parts by applying Enzian Schnapps (liquor) for healing purposes, and then take a sip to calm his jittery nervs and gather new strength to get down on his wounded knees and propose.

Edelweiss or (Leontopodium alpinum) and Enzian (Gentiana acaulis) are not only material for medicine, legends and fairytales, they help sell the latter too. They adorn planes, trains, and coins, place mats and sweathers; lend their name to Yodel- and Alpine-clubs, to Restaurants and Dance groups - among other things.

Here you see the dancing “Enzianbuam” (Enzian boys)

For once, Machismo and flowers go hand in hand – every man adorns his hat with at least Enzian. They are much easier to find, though they only bloom for a very short time in spring.

Ok, I admit, women do it too…

What Is The Quickest Way To Heaven?

2008-12-02T19:07:00.000-08:00

"Out the Window"

No, I am not going to tell you how to escape before 'your time'!

Recently I read the book, THE SPIRIT WINDOW by Joyce Sweeny, which reminded me of my last visit at my Sisters home in Safien, Switzerland (as if I need a reminder…hahaha). While I was there, she took me to the little local heritage museum filled with ancient artefacts of an aera gone by. The house is filled with antiques collected from the very talented natives who used the long, hard winters – the roads were closed, and there was nowhere to go - to repair things that went to bits and pieces in summer and to manufacture furniture and

artistically carved cutlery and what nots, make and repair shoes, spin wool and knit sweathers and socks, toques and gloves, sew elegantly tailored dresses that would make an haut couturier of today jealous; embroider linens and build their own music instruments – I was told that at the time the most favoured two music instruments where violin and Alphorn, you know, that huge pipe that sounds like a fire horn if blown incorrectly and scares the socks off you. Singing was a much-loved pastime – back in 1896, they counted 9 different choirs. Live was maybe hard, but never dull.

Hundreds of years ago - 1314 - Safien was the first time mentioned in history books, then still called “Stosavia” – sounds much prettier, doesn’t it? In 1850, they counted almost as many people - 1798 to be exact. But famine, lack of work and therefore poverty drove more and more people away – mostly to the United States and New Zealand. Nowadays there are approx.1040 people living in the valley; 340 of them in and around Safien Platz, the main Village in that rugged, but beautiful area.

And here’s the reason why I started that post in the first place. Do you see the peewee window, covered with a simple sliding door?

Here you see it from the outside. It’s barely the size of my father’s old-fashioned handkerchief, about 25 x 25 cm.

What’s so special about it, you ask?

That is a “spirit window”, a “Seelenfenster” in German. In earlier days, when people still died at home – actually, in that part of the world they still do – the spirit window was opened immediately and the soul would fly out through that little opening and go strait to heaven.

On A Cool Canadian December Day...

2008-12-01T12:27:00.000-08:00

...looking out the window into a greyish and rainy morning, I remembered that wonderful

1. December 1998, exactly 10 years ago,

I spent on a beach in VietNam.

I found that beach in Doc Let (Van Phong Bay), just a few clicks north of Ninh Hoa. There were a few wooden huts on stilts with lattice windows for cooling scattered throughout a pine forest. The trees emanated a heavenly scent and provided welcome shade from the hot midday sun.

The view was worth a million bucks and had definitely a Caribbean feel to it. I recovered there from my motorcycle trip through VietNam. After two relaxing days at that unspoilt, beautiful, and quite beach - wide and far the only guest – I was ready to hit the road again.

Write your injuries in sand, your benefits in marble.

~ Benjamin Franklin

Sorrow And Happiness

2008-11-30T11:22:00.000-08:00

One true friend contributes more to our happiness,

Than a thousand foes to our agony!

My grief was silent, I broke in two.
But then... there were you!

Mumbai and the Terrorist Attacks

2008-11-27T18:53:00.000-08:00

"The world becomes a smaller place"

A tragedy has taken place in Mumbai, and I am deeply saddened by this new gruelling act of violence. As of now, they still try to confirm the dead and insured – the number of hostages is still uncertain, and the origin of the terrorists still unkown. The world has become an increasingly difficult place. Countries I visited a few years back without a second thought, have become impossible to travel to. Travel alerts are released almost daily – the newest example is Thailand.

How do we deal with such unbelievable tragedy we even can’t comprehend? How can we go forward without getting discouraged? And since I blogged about Happiness, how can we be happy in a world that becomes more violent by the day? What kind of responsibility do we have as people, as a traveler?

Photo: Peter Keep/Reuters

Mridula over at Travel Tales from India asks the question: “Will you cancel your holidays to India?” and “Mumbai Chaos – Words Fail You.” – what do you think?

Carl Hoffman has posted an article on the National Geography blog from an other point of view.

"If the 21st century wishes to free itself from the cycle of violence, acts of terror and war, and avoid repetition of the experience of the 20th century - that most disaster-ridden century of humankind, there is no other way except by understanding and putting into practice every human right for all mankind..."
~Shirin Ebadi, Nobel Peace Prize winner

My thoughts are going out to all people involved. I continue with all my heart to send good energy and to keep the prayers positive.

More Links:
The New York Times: Sophisticated Attacks, but by Whom?
The New York Times: Indian Forces Tighten Grip on Mumbai
The Guardian: Mumbai terror attacks: travel advice

Postcard from Graubünden

2008-11-27T10:43:00.001-08:00

"Talking about Fast Food..."

...Graubünden has it since more than 700 years!

Enjoy!

Postcard from Graubünden

2008-11-20T14:31:00.001-08:00

"4* Hotel in Graubünden"

This is a postcard from the most beautiful part of Switzerland, Graubünden. Honest! Why, you ask? Because I was born there. When someone asks "are you Swiss" usually my answer is: “No, I am a Bündner.” It’s a bit like someone asks: “Are you Canadian” and the person replies: “No, I am from Newfoundland.”

Coming back to my ramblings about happiness: for some of us a Hotel like that would be heaven on earth and we would happily nest there for as long as they would let us. Other’s wouldn’t even look at something that resembles more Pippi Longstocking’s Villa Villekulla than a 4* Hotel. They’d prefer a 5* Boutique Hotel with 500 thread count sheets to frolic in. Now, for my mother it has to be something entirely different; she’d prefer to stay home and sleep in her own bed. As the Irish Expat quickrout said: “Happiness is in the beholder.” There.

What is Happiness?

2008-11-18T13:37:00.000-08:00

Is happiness the absence of hate, fear, stress, anger, depression, self doubt, hate, grief, guilt, shame, anxiety, jealousy, neediness and so on? Why are we happy? Are we born this way? Is it in our genes? Do we have a choice? Do we need superficial factors to be happy?

Are people less fortunate than I less or more happy? Can someone who merely survives be happy? Does living without a job or living in poverty mean I can’t be (or don’t deserve to be) happy? How do I tell a depressed person that the sun will shine again?

Is happiness circumstantial, which would mean that we are not always in control over our happiness?

We can describe happiness from a scientific point of view. Experts can tell us what happiness is and means and that happy people are healthier and more successful. But does that help us to get happy?

Happiness means different things to different people. I can only describe what happiness means to me. I am generally a happy person. Does that make me a “simple” person?

Somebody said to me: “How dare you be happy in these unhappy times.” How dare I not, I say. Does it help unhappy people if I am unhappy as well? Does that change anything for the better? Does that make the world a better palace?

I was “fortunate” enough to have a very hard time very early on in my life. I could easily drown in self-pity and victimhood. Oh, I could find a ton of reasons why I shouldn’t be or don't deserve to be happy. But I simply will not. I am thankful for the good, the bad, and the ugly. Especially for the ugly, because that made me a free person. Nothing in the future can be worse. I truly believe I am as happy as I am because I experienced harder times.

For me, happiness is a state of inner well-being. And to reach that point is my responsibility.

The source of my happiness is a flirt with a toddler; a smile from a stranger; a hug from a friend; a blissful morning like today, when the sun sends her rays through every crack in the clouds to paint the world in silvery shades; a cup of tea, a laugh with a friend, a beautiful flower.

Somebody said once to me: "I wish I would be happy with what I have instead of unhappy with what I don’t have."

The older I get the less stuff I need. Though I admit, that pair of well fitted jeans, that wonderful Chinese teacup and all my books make me happy too. Although, I think they make me more grateful for what I have.

Could I be happy without them?

I never had to prove it. And sometimes I ponder that situation. Sure, I move a lot around and leave more and more stuff behind. I admire - for example - Rita Golden Gelman, who, since more than 20 years, wanders the planet with only what fits in her backpack. I dream of that, but I am not quite there just yet (and probably never will be).

Happiness is in my mind. Happiness crawls up my body when I sit at the root of my favourite birch tree, feeling Mother Earth Energy and looking at the ravens who dance in the sky just for me.I felt so much happiness when I found myself surrounded by these beautiful women in a village market in Northern Vietnam who tried really hard to dress me in delicate and tiny blouses and skirts – made for dolls, really – but without success. The only thing that fit was the headdress. A wonderful embroidered shawl wrapped around my head. We didn’t speak each other’s language, but we laughed so much we had to hold our bellies.

"To live happy, live hidden. Where can Brigitte Bardot hide?"
- A proverb by herself

“Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”
- Abraham Lincoln

Canada's Ghost Towns - Part II

2008-11-17T13:13:00.000-08:00

"Treasures of Trout Lake"

The old mining town of Trout Lake boosts a few old treasures that are worth a visit. One of them is the antique gas pump at the General store. Apparently, it’s the oldest one of its kind still in use in BC.
It’s well and still working; gravity fed from the glass-enclosed tank on top of the pump and hand-operated.

The pump is located right in front of the General Store, one of those town stores that deserve that name. One comes across all kinds of odd things and treasure troves you won’t find at Loblaws or Safeway.

I walked up the hill behind the store through an old growth cedar forest. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of oozing gum. I enjoyed the soothing and healing effect that emanated from the trees and the earth. Not a bristle of wind, the lake shining in the glowing sun like a mirror – the stillness was almost deafening - even the birds held a siesta. I literally could feel the energy mingle with my own. Who needs Arizona when you can have a much less crowded paradise like that?

Trout Lake peaked more than a century ago, when up to 2000 people lived in that picturesque town on the northern tip of a pristine but goose-bumpy cold lake with the same name. It’s tucked away between the forest draped Selkirk and Purcell mountain ranges. When the gold- and silver rush was over due to sinking prices for metal, the steamboats quit running and Trout Lake’s citizen shrivelled down to between 20 and 56 permanent residents, depending on where you look up the figures.

Nowadays, Trout Lake is a holiday spot with cabins and a campground. Apparently a heaven for fishermen: Dolly Varden trout and kokanee salmon (I have no clue what I am talking about) are the treasures of today. The Lardeau River once stocked with the world’s largest rainbow trout (up to 50 pounds/23 kg in size), is now endangered to the point where fishing this river is restricted.

The historic Windsor Hotel was built in 1892 and kept lovingly alive. It has been restored by the new owner and filled with backwoods antiques. Old photographs tell the story of the golden days; the grizzly skin on the wall of dangerous adventures; the old piano in the Saloon of leg-swinging parties - It’s all a bit dusty but charming.

It was a busy place the day I visited. A fellow traveller and 4 woodpeckers, emanating the heavenly woodsy smell of fresh sawdust, and I enjoyed a hearty homemade soup. The proprietor, sporting hippie trousers and an artsy braided ponytail that me envious, tells me that he put down roots for good in Trout Lake: “We came for a weekend visit, fell in love with the place and the people and stayed. I called my employer and gave notice. That was almost 20 years ago and we still wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.”
He tells me that the area is busiest in winter. Snowmobiling attracts a huge crowd each winter, and the 15 rooms are constantly booked solid. Driving out the narrow dirt road toward Kaslo I can see why. It’s breathtaking enough in the summer, but winter must be pure fairytale-land here

Home Sweet Home

2008-11-10T13:36:00.000-08:00

“The Price of Ghost Town Living”

I am searching for a home. With that, I don’t mean a 2 story, executive sparkler with all the whistles to blow. I mean a home where I can sprawl out, deposit my books, make a mess of things – and then walk out the door and go places. I live in a beautiful 2-story condo with 3 bedrooms and a balcony with a sweeping view worth a million bucks, and all the comfort you can wish for.

So, why on earth would I want to move?

I need a garden. More than a house, really. Ok, what I am looking for is more a cabin than a house. But after searching for more than 3 years, it looks as I will have to build that cabin myself. It seems impossible to find anything that fits my ragged needs.

Before I moved West and into that beautiful condo, I lived in an un-insulated cabin, where I threw snow against the walls in the – 35 º C winters for warms. I had no plumbing during the freezing months and only an outhouse. I had to crack a hole in the ice for water and walk 20 minutes to get to my car. In late fall I was stuck on my tiny island for weeks until the lake froze over and in the spring until the ice went out.

I loved every minute of it.

I thought it would be a breeze to find my “dream home” out West. Turns out, I was wrong. Cottage Country is back in Ontario, but so are the black flies.

A short while ago, I came close to what I am looking for. I am a sucker for going places and use every excuse to hit the road. Exploring Trout Lake, one of the many ghost towns of British Columbia, I found it. There it was – smack dab in the middle of everything. I couldn’t believe my luck. It had even a “For Sale” sign on the door. I hit the breaks, and it is a good thing ghost towns are far away from busy highways, otherwise the car behind me would have hit mine, no question.

I stared at that tiny, sunburned treasure trove for a while; just to see if it wasn’t a mirage, disappearing in front of my eyes as soon as I would move. Finally, I started breathing again. I opened the car door and walked toward my object of desire. Not strait, no, I meandered leisurely, as if I was not even too curious.

I saw myself sitting on the porch and enjoying the non-existing view. The porch was just a step away from the main road; the neighbours would see me at the dinner table, in the kitchen, in the bedroom… But that didn’t keep me from dreaming. I’d move the house; log-by-log, shingle-by-shingle, window-by-window – I was already once involved in that process – and move it to that wonderful spot in my mind with a view, far away from town, where foxes and rabbits would wish each other good night. In my dream, I already moved in, arranged furniture, put up pictures, stacked books…

“What you’re looking for?” said somebody behind me before I even reached that spot on the porch where Ken’s Muskoka chair was waiting for me.

“Just curious. You wouldn’t know who’s selling?”

“You’ve got the cash?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“$150’000 flat,” he said, and chuckled.

I was catapulted out of my dreamy state at once! That breakdown of a shack on a handkerchief piece of land? The roof ready to fly away, the windows blind and the chimney just barely hanging on? Trout Lake reachable only on a dirt road?

I looked a little more at it while my dream faded slowly away.

Postcard From Canada

2008-10-22T17:33:00.000-07:00

"Ski anyone?"

Don’t know where to recycle your old skis?

This fence in Kimberly, Canada, is made up of used skis.

And so is the letterbox.

Responsible Travel

2008-10-20T14:01:00.000-07:00

To have and not to give is often worse than to steal.
~Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach

Poverty is an oppressive reality most of the developing world lives with. One of the most difficult things to deal with when traveling is how to react when swarmed by begging children or begging women with babies asking for baby formula (which, mostly, is resold right away when we turn the corner).
We are told not to succumb to begging. I know it’s the right thing to do, but my conscious gets every time into trouble when I am apraoched by these innocent and less fortunate children. I was born in relative safety, grew up with enough food on a plate, and I am able to travel the world whenever I find time. These children don’t have a choice. It’s ‘fight or die.’

Handing out gifts can be outright dangerous, and it won’t solve the problem. O contraire, it will create even bigger problems and uncontrollable situations. Children get into fights and the stronger kids get everything - that is, if they really can keep what they receive. More often then not, they are ‘professional’ beggars who have to give up whatever was given to them.

I don’t have a perfect solution. Often I start talking to kids even if we don’t understand each other with words. Singing and playing games helps too. Kids are kids and love to interact and it can create funny situations where everybody laughs and forgets the begging for a minute. I invited kids to share a meal with me and to teach me the words for the things we eat. In Northern Vietnam, where these photos where taken in a small village, I donated paper and pencils to the local school – which meant I had to drive back to the next big city to buy supply. Of course, I am not sure if that really was helpful, since their ‘schoolroom’ was completely empty and I am not even sure if it was really a school or not.

Anne over at Prêt a Voyager has written a very helpful piece on what can be done to help. I agree fully with her, and only can ad from my own experience that Kiva is a wonderful organization, and so is Plan Canada. A donation for the local Red Cross or a similar organisation, that provides meals or services to street kids, is another possibility.

By the way, non of these childrean in these pictures where begging. But I am sure that changed since these photos where made in the mid 90's thanks to us travelers, who started by giving away pens and sweets just because 'we wanted to be nice' to them, and so 'teaching' them this way to ask for presents.

Begging is not only a problem in third world countries. We have plenty of beggars everywhere created by our way of life (lost jobs, alcoholism, drugs). I have a somewhat funny story to tell. A while ago, a beggar, asking for pennies for food, approached me. Since I had time and was hungry myself I invited him to join me for a meal at one of the many food stalls in that train station. Of course, he didn’t really wanted food; he wanted money for alcohol or drugs. But it became a habit that the two of us met over a period of time and shared a meal. One day just before we met I was approached by an other beggar asking me for the same thing, when my regular meal companion showed up before I could answer and told him with a smirk on his face: “Be careful what you wish for. She literally invites you for dinner.”

Souvenir, Souvenir...

2008-10-17T12:08:00.000-07:00

" Making Memories" Last night I was sorting through my books and came across “In the Shadow of the Alhambra”, a little book I bought when I spent one year in Spain back in 1982. Noldi, a Swiss painter in residence in Granada at the time, left a dedication in the book, a caricature of the two of us exploring the Alhambra. When I looked at it all the memories started to roll back. My sister visited with two of her friends and we criss-crossed Spain for a few weeks and had so much fun. Noldi and I lost contact, but that little book came with me when I changed addresses; crossed borders in Europe, changed continents and traveled from Sea to Sea in Canada.

This is the kind of souvenir I treasure most.

Vote Canada, Vote

2008-10-14T14:34:00.000-07:00

Just came across Rick Mercer's Spite: The Most Powerful of Motivators. Of course, it's a bit late for it, but there are still a few hours left to go and vote.

Bountiful Harvest

2008-10-13T20:28:00.001-07:00

"Happy Thanksgiving, Canada"

The city was a busy place on Friday. Everyone was out getting prepared for the big weekend celebration, including me. My veggie palce where I got my butternut squash was all dressed up and shiny.

While the actual Thanksgiving holiday is on the second Monday in October, Canadians might eat their Thanksgiving meal on any day of the three day weekend.

Fida’s simple Raw Butternutsquash Salad for two

Dressing
1 ½ spoon Pumkinseedoil (or walnutoil)
Juice of ½ Orange
Salt and Pepper to taste
Pinch of Nutmeg
Pinch of cinamon
Pinch of cardamom
½ teaspoon of turmeic

let it sit for a while so the spices can infuce the dressing

1 medium Butternutsquash, julienned
Seeds of a small pomegranate
Pumpkinseeds and Walnuts

I always start my fast after the thanksgiving dinner, so this was an excellent choice – if only I could have resisted the cheese macaroni and wine served with it. Oh well…

Looking for ideas to carve Pumkins? Click here.

Water For Future Generations

2008-10-11T19:51:00.000-07:00

"Canoeist with a cause"

Isn’t it strange that awareness about one thing often leads to more information on the same subject even if you don’t really look for it?

I was researching my next kayak trip when I came across information about Seth Wotten. What an inspiration he is!

He started his expedition in 2006 across Canada and finished over the course of 3 summers his tour for his cause “Water for Future Generations” in August 2008.

When asked why he started this expedition he said: “I want future generations to be able to do this trip; to be able to drink the water and not worry about contamination; to be able to eat the fish and be healthy.”

The expedition followed the traditional routs that have been used by native peoples, explorers, and fur traders. The route is over 8000 km in length and entails several hundred portages, it crosses four major drainage basins: the St. Lawrence, the Nelson, The Churchill, and the Mackenzie.

He provides great information on his Web Page about the importance of Water, but also how to take action and offers suggestions what we, personally – step by step - can do to make a difference.

Water Awareness Questionnaire:
1. Where does your drinking water come from?
2. Where does your wastewater go?
3. What major drainage basin do you live in?
4. Name some of the waterways close to your home.
5. What is the stage of health of these waterways?
6. What are some threats or concerns with regard to them?
7. Name some organizations that are working to create positive change for your waterways?
8. How do you pollute your wastewater in your home or business?
9. What can you do to minimize or eliminate these pollutants?
10. What are some water consumptive activities that take place in your home or business?
11. How can you reduce your water consumption?
12. How can you take action to protect our water?

Seth Wotten is writing a book about his project as well as about his canoeing experience.

Books worth reading:

FLOW (For Love Of Water)

2008-10-08T16:30:00.000-07:00

"A documentary by French filmmaker Irena Salina"

The film begins with the ever so true quote by W.H. Auden: “Thousands have lived without love, not one without water.”

The global water crisis can be added to the environmental crisis we already experience. The discussion started years ago, but it seems that we let the war, the elections and other calamity’s overshadow the fact that one of humanity’s most critical resources has to be addressed.

“The film questions the very nature of water and our relation to it. It shows how local action can challenge giant corporations, and how the privatization of water has jeopardized the way of life for entire populations,” says director Irena Salina.

But even if concerned citizens from Michigan to Bolivia and India combine their political power with remarkably successful results, each and every one of us has to take action and influence our nominated leaders as well as make personal efforts in our private lives.

What I knew about water was just the tip of the iceberg that surrounds the process of privatization of water. We need water to drink, as we need air to breath. But as with air, water is heavily polluted by chemicals and fertilizers. The politics around bottled water left me hunted and the well 'suited’ and with profit concerned CEO’s of fortune 500 companies’ evoked strong emotions.

Read more here

Inerview with Irena Salina

Trailer of the Film

Lofty Goats

2008-10-07T15:17:00.000-07:00

Driving through the Kootenay I came across these goats on a rooftop in Yahk.
They looked quite comfortable and happy up there. No wonder, goats are acrobatic adventurers and love to have a good spot to overlook the carousel of life.

"Geissen Mama"
When my sister earned her first pocket money in the tender age of 5, she didn’t go out to by candy; she bought her first goat. Of course, she didn’t have enough money but the woman she bought the goat from was so taken by my sister’s interest and love for goats that she even gave her a second one for free, because goats need company.
Meanwhile my sister is the best goat-cheese-maker I know - Goats are her labour of love and not a business.

Goats are fascinating and curious creatures with an attitude. They do as they darn please. They not only steal your heart; they steal everything that’s not nailed down.

"Queens and Kings of the Alps"
In Graubünden, they still can room freely in the spring and late fall. They KNOW they are the secret Queens and Kings in the Alps.

We grew up next door to where Johanna Spyri gave birth to Heidi and Geissenpeter (Peter, the goat herder) and where the myth is still very much kept alive.
(photo: www.schweiztag.de)

"Allegra, Bienvenuti, Grüezi"
Simpli means "Hello" in the three langueges (Romantsch, Italian, Swiss German) spoken in Graubünden, the Swiss Canton I grew up in. This year Graubünden was invited by Berlin under the motto: “Berlin calls Graubünden” to celebrate the National Swiss Day on August 1 as a guest in Germany’s capital. 300 goats paraded through the "Brandenburg Tor" to promote Graubünden’s tourism, one of the pillars (the other one being agriculture) of the canton’s economy.
(photo: keystone/Ennio Leanza)

"Fainting goats"
This is a breed of domestic goat whose muscles freeze for roughtly 10 seconds when the goat is startled. Younger goats will stiffen and fall over when startled. Older gots learn to deal with it and continue to run in an awkward, stiff-legged shuffle.

Rosie's back home

2008-10-06T13:12:00.000-07:00

"Not a couch potato"

Ever since I read about Rosie Swale Pope in 2004 I followed her epic journey around the world in the safety and warmth of my home on my computer through the website her son kept up and running.

She started her journey on October 2003, her 57. Birthday. Shortly after her husband died of Prostate Cancer she took the world under her feet to raise awareness not only for Prostate cancer, but supported also many other small charities. “It's a journey that came out of sorrow and pain and heartache, but it's a journey that has turned to joy" she said.

Braving freezing temperatures in the wastes of Siberia and Alaska, coming face to face with bears, getting frostbites and facing a scare with breast cancer, suffering from broken bones and pneumonia – giving up was never an option for this inspirational grandmother.

On August 29, 2008, Rosie Swale Pope has returned home after a 5-year adventure circling the world through more than a dozen countries and using up at least 45 pairs of running shoes.

I can’t wait to read her book.

You can read more about her adventures on her website.

My Heart Soars, too!

2008-10-03T13:43:00.000-07:00

"I wish I were in Nova Scotia…"

But even here, in British Columbia, we have some pretty colourful leafy trees that are dressed in their best fall costume right now. Crisp air, dazzling colours and an intense blue sky make my heart soar. Time to make fall memories; wandering around in the woods, gathering treasures like berries, mushrooms and herbs for a ‘cuppa’ tea to enjoy with that fall apple crisp and to warm up those long and cold winter nights, already around the corner.

Each day brings an hour of magic.

Listen to it!

Things will whisper their secrets.

You will know what fills the herbs with goodness,

makes days change into nights,

turns the stars and brings the change of season.

When you have come to know some of nature’s wise ways

beware of your complacency

for you cannot be wiser than nature.

You can only be as wise as any man will ever hope to be,-

if you let it happen.

~Words to a grandchild - written by Chief Dan George

“My Heart Soars” - Hancock House Publishers

...and an older photo from when I was living in Ontario...

How Mysterious You Are, Lovely One...

2008-10-02T14:21:00.000-07:00

If Alice can talk to flowers, so can I. Though I probably wasn’t as nice in the end as she ever was. I nursed my Datura for 2 ½ years without success. Several times I thought I lost her. From the beginning she was frail, lost all the leaves, died down again and again until one day I completely lost it. Cutting her back once more I told her to get lost if she wouldn’t do as I wished. “You get one more chance at this or I am done with you.”

Just a few short weeks alter – I didn’t trust my eyes – little green things like small larva’s started to show up everywhere. That was back in April, and since then she bloomed four more times. It’s beginning of October now, and look at the masses of trumpets that she still produces. Of course, I purr around her like a cat on cat-nip.

The plant is known for causing delirious minds and poisonings. But so far, mine just gave me deliriously happy evenings this summer by sniffing her fragrance. Mind you, some would call my silly-happy-grin on my face that I get by just looking at her a delirious state of mind.

I don’t think there is an other plant out there with so many different names: Prickly-burr, Devil’s Trumpet, Thorn-Apple, Jimson Weed, Moonflower (my favored), Hell’s Bell, Devil’s Weed, and Apple-Peru. The Datura is mentioned in literature as far back as 2000 BC. She is celebrated in poems; Stories and legends are spun around her. She is praised as an aphrodisiac, used in magic ceremonies and as remedy to cure Asthma. Hindi Sadhus smoke the leaves and seeds to alter their minds, and numerous accounts of sabbatical journeys are mentioned in books and elsewhere. She can evoke deliours illusions as well as kill. No wonder all my visitors show a strong reaction toward my lovely Moonflower; either they LOVE her or hate her, take a step back and tell me to throw that poisonous ‘Devil’s Kraut’ (there, an other name) to the dump.

My blog title is the first line of Mary Lamberts poem about the Moonflower.

Yo-Yo Ma instead of Chocolate

2008-09-29T13:10:00.000-07:00

I got attacked by a virus, and I was not able to access the Internet for 3 days. It was so frustrating (and expensive) to fix it that I wanted to grab a piece of chocolate to calm my nerves - instead, I got my fix from Yo-Yo Ma :-)

Bear scare in Kitmimat

2008-09-24T10:17:00.000-07:00

"Yep, that happens in Bearcountry"

An early riser visited the local Subway restaurant shortly after 6 am in the morning. He got caught by the Subway camera while waiting on the counter to be served though without success, and so left the same way he came: through the entrance like every human being.

Read the whole story at the

Kitimat Sentinel

Picture taken by the Subway camera

Sicamous

2008-09-23T16:55:00.000-07:00

“The Houseboat Capital of Canada”

Annie, that’s especially for you! If your heart is soaring for houseboat living – maybe holidaying on a houseboat is more affordable than moving your house permanently to a houseboat community like Vancouver or Seattle? Lake Shuswap is a magical area with tons of possibilities to make more memories :-)

They come in all shapes and sizes...

You park over night on the shore of Lake Shuswap...

where ever you want. It's a huge lake with over 1000 km of shoreline...

Isn't it magical?

Unfortunately, the day was a bit hazy when I made the photos!

There are more houseboats in the background.

Springtime is Beachcombers time...

And more beauty. Don't I sound like somebody from the Tourist office?

A wintery view from my balcony...

And an other one...

Gone Gawking

2008-09-23T12:28:00.000-07:00

"Want to live in a fishbowl? Try this…"

Granville Island is not only the place to shop for fabulous food, fancy take-outs and world art; it’s also home of Vancouver's Sea Village. Nestled in a corner of False Creek and bordered by the city’s busiest waterway is a floating community of 13 homes, where you park your boat directly at your front door.

Residents not only have to deal with the constant tidal change and the effects of passing boats; it’s become a tourist attraction. Gawkers flock in by the hundreds in any summer day, and the residents are on display like the fish next door in the Public Market.

The Sea Village is strictly controlled by the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation - Granville Island’s landlord - and the City of Vancouver handles the permits. So if you think it's easy to get a roof over your head here - think twice.

From contemporay to cozy...

The resitends letter boxes are as artsy as their houses...

Chainsaw Outings

2008-09-20T12:59:00.000-07:00

"The Home of a Thousand Faces"
http://www.radiumwoodcarver.com/

On a recent trip through the Columbia Valley I finally found time to stop at Rolf Heer’s carving studio. Approaching his wooden hut smack-dab in the middle of Radium Hot Springs, I couldn't’t see the goats normally climbing all over his dwelling, and sure enough – neither his goats nor himself were in residence. Maybe he is wandering himself. Anyway, I though you would enjoy a few photos.

At least one resident of Radium Hot Springs, also called the "Bighorn Sheep Capital", was home.

So I noticed...

I did me best. Maybe I am not 'Lady' enough?

That didn't help either...

Maybe time for a haircut?

I left hungry...

Around The Bloc

2008-09-18T17:26:00.001-07:00

"The West Kootenays"

Driving along Kootenay Lake is a picturesque affair; stunning views await you around every bend, steep forested slopes flank the 145 km long Lake, and the 270 curves between Creston and Crawford Bay are exhilarating, especially for motorcyclists. Up until the 1950s Sternwheelers provided the main link between towns and villages. There are many public boat landings if you want to take your own boat to explore the area for a different viewpoint. The route is part of the “Selkirk Loop” (British Columbia – Washington – Idaho – British Columbia). For more information go to: http://www.selkirkloop.org/

The romantic area attracts artists, artisans, writers, musicians and spiritual seekers alike. The whole area is one celebration of Kootenay-creativity – heritage tours, festivals, fairs, art walks, horse shows, weekends designated to books, music, gardens and everything between garlic and bees are celebrated.

Creston valley toward Kootenay Lake

I apologize…the pictures don’t do justice to the reality. I only had my small digi camera with me and it produces a lousy quality for landscapes.

Creston Valley has a long growing season and is a cradle for vegetables, fruits and grains - it is second only to the Okanagan in fruit production.

Hwy 3A meanders along the shore of Kootenay Lake

“A labour of love – The Famous Glass House”

One of the unique attractions along Hwy 3A just 40 km north of Creston, B.C., is the Glass House, constructed of more than 500’000 discarded embalming fluid bottles. The late David H. Brown began to build the house 1952 after 35 years in the funeral business. He thought that the discarded empty embalming fluid bottles should be put to some use and came up with the idea of building a house.

The Glass House was meant to be the Brown's home, but the project attracted the curiosity of passers-by from the start. Finally, suffering from complete loss of privacy, Mr. Brown built the little tower that serves as entry to the place and started to charge a fee, in the hopes that this would discourage people from visiting. Instead, the flow of visitors increased and so they employed a staff to admit the curious and answer their many questions.

Many of his friends in the funeral profession started to collect bottles for him, until he had acquired 500,000 of the square shaped bottles, weighing 250 tons in all.

The house itself sits upon solid rock. Built in a cloverleaf pattern with three main rooms, circular in shape, 48 feet in length, 24 feet wide, and with the upstairs room, it contains 1,200 square feet of floor space. It took him over 2 years to construct his dream home with a single thickness of bottles, which are short and stubby. Strips of wood placed between the bottlenecks, strengthened with cement and wire, support the inner lining of cedar boards, which are nailed on perpendicularly.

A mountain stream trickling over a moss-covered water wheel welcomes visitors.

A kitchen with a view...

In the cupboard behind the couch is a hidden guest bed.

The whole house is heated by this fireplace.

Finally, Mr. Brown can enjoy the labour of his work...He passed away July 13, 1970.

Artistic expressions everywhere...

A lookout...

Teasing sun rays...

The ground is meticulously landscaped with flowers, evergreens, hostas, bushes and stone pathways.

His own boat landing...and beach...

Sweeping views from the Lookout...

Gnomes, some of antique age, keep an eye on things...

I could easily exchange place with the little gnome down there…

shhhh....the Sasquatch likes the place too....

"Artisans of Crawford Bay"

There are many attractive artisan places to visit, but the main accumulation of artists are around Crawford Bay. Potters, iron workers, weavers, glass blowers, photographers, and jewellers just to name a few. North Woven Broom Co. offers handcrafted broms in a historic log barn. They are made from the tassels of the broomcorn plant, also known as Sorghum vulgare. It is an annual grass resembling Indian corn and is used for brooms for thousands of years.

Tricky handywork...

It needs many tools to trim, shape, flatten, tie, layer, weave, and stick a broom...

A Marriage Broom with a heart shaped handle and a double broom...

Some of the devices resemble medieval torture tools...

and if you miss the ferry...fly a broom...

The view from the ferry...apparently the wold's longest ferry free of charge.

Living among us

2008-09-17T10:36:00.000-07:00

Here is a video made of Ben Ripple's speech at the Taste3 Conference. I think it is so important that we as consumers decide what we want to eat, in what kind of world we want to live, and for that it is very important to know what is going on in the world and how food is produced and what kind of impact our actions have for producers living in other parts of the world.

http://www.bigtreebali.com/home.html

Garden Gatherings

2008-09-16T18:04:00.000-07:00

"Basil, basil oh sweet basil…"

Your silky leaves and your intoxicating perfum opens the gate to my culinary heaven… you dance on my tongue, you play with my mind and work my imagination - you irresistible gift of nature.

You tingle my taste buds and fill my belly with sweet delight. I tear you up for soups, eat you like spinach, and throw you by the handful on salads, a plate of spaghetti and pizza, always added in the last moment, so your delicate leaves don’t loose the taste. I chop you for salad dressings, and no vegetable stew is complete without you. I preserve you in Olive Oil just in case of a dry spell in fresh leaves. You are the fragrance of my strawberry and pear jams. In a cream cheese dip I slather you on potatoes, yams and on freshly backed, crusty sour dough bred and serv you as a side dish for rice with veggies. I add you to cottage cheese and tzatziki and tomatoes are never complete without you…

There are more than 60 varieties of you – and I only grow three. I need a garden. I NEED A GARDEN. For now, you have to be content with my north facing balcony in summer and my south facing kitchen windowsill in winter.

Your fragrant leaves brush around my legs on the balcony. Your intoxicating perfume tingles my nostrils and wakens my desire to garnish yet an other dish with you. I swear you keep away colds and fevers and bleeding gums, and strengthen my immune system.

"Basil-Cream Cheese dip"

- 8 ounce of cream cheese
- Julienne a handful of basil leaves very fine (if you are not such enthusiast are as I am take less) - Chop 1 or 2 cloves of garlic
- Salt and pepper to taste and even a bit of chillies if you like

Let it marinate for a while so the cream cheese can get infused with the basil fragrance.

I don’t add Parmesan Cheese because I want to enjoy the Basil taste. But of course it can be added. If a creamy consistency is preferred, then chop everything in a food processor, a delicious way to enjoy with crackers and raw veggie sticks. And the latter is also a delicacy with Zucchini sticks: sauté the sticks for just a minute in a pan with a spoon full of coconut oil, transfer to a plate and drizzle on the basil cream cheese dip, serve it with brown rice and a lentil sauce.

"Tomatoes are ripe – a summers delight!"

My favoured summer dish: Tomato salad with buffalo mozzarella and fresh basil, aged balsamico, a drizzle of organic olive oil, salt and pepper!

"Garden Gatherings"

Thank goodness for our Farmers Market. My trophies for today: Eggs, juicy, red cheeked peaches directly from the tree; plums and heirloom tomatoes so tasty and sweet you never want to buy an other tomato in a store.

Stocked up on organic, un-pasteurized honey for the winter and got a tip from the bee-lady: never store honey in the fridge; it will crystallize. Leave it on the counter and freeze what you don’t need immediately for later use.

On my balcony, I am surrounded by the sent of herbs; on the left side sage, on the right side there is peppermint and lemon balm.

Sipping Tea in Vancouver

2008-09-15T19:15:00.000-07:00

“Drink Tea and you forget the problems and noise around you”

I confess I am a bit a tea-aholic. The first time I got hooked on ‘real’ tea was in Darjeeling. Almost 20 years ago I stayed at my friend’s tea plantation and was spoiled rotten with a freshly brewed cup of Darjeeling each day served before I was even out of bed.

The tea I was used to drink up until then came out of a bag and only tasted good with cream and sugar, or maybe some lemon. Now, I can’t even drink tea out of a teabag anymore; it tastes like paper and has no resemblance to loose white, green, oolong, and black/red tealeaves.

Tea became first known in China around 350 as a medicinal herb. In 772 the Chinese poet LU YU (733 – 804, who devoted his life to research and study of tea, wrote the famous “Cha jing”, the first classical book about tea, where he explained the procedure of drinking tea socially in a ceremony and as a daily refreshing drink. It’s quite a task to prepare tea as the Chinese do: Different teas have to be brewed with different temperatures of water, and there is a different teapot for each different tea (white, green, oolong, black/red). First, the teapot and the teacups have to be warmed up. Then the teapot is filled about 1/3 with leaves and water, and the water from is drained away immediately. The pot with the rinsed tealeaves is filled a second time and steeped for about 30 seconds. Fresh, high quality tealeaves can be reused up to 5 times.

Needless to say that I have to stock up on tea every time I visit Vancouver. Of course, I could order them online. But would you do that with wine? And then, there’s Daniel. He owns a small but eclectic store, were I am always greeted warmly with a fresh cup of tea. His clients have their own cups and tealeaves in the store and visit daily once or twice for a chat and a cup of tea. I am always in awe of the little antique teacups, neatly stacked on the side of the serving table, waiting for their owners. Where do they come from? Who made them? What could they tell me if they could speak?

Daniel, pouring a cup of tea. Arts de Chine is located at the corner of Pender and Carrell Street in Vancouver’s China Town (101 E. Pender St. Vancouver BC, danluie@yahoo.ca).

Here you see my pot for green tea, though I use it only on special occasions. It’s made of clay (no glaze). Daniel prepared the pot for me and poured green tea in and over the pot for weeks to infuse its aroma into the pot. As older the pot gets, the shiner it will become. My teacups are of unknown age, and I picked them up in an antique store in Nakusp (of all places).

My ‘every day’ tea pot from Japan with paper thin Chinese tea cups, and Chinese tea storage bins (green, oolong and red/black tea).

Here’s the teapot for my 'Darjeeling' (which is a black tea – Chinese call black tea red). It’s a Japanese Tea Pot with Japanese Tea Cups. I was down to only two tea cups after giving away most of them to friends and was glad to find the same cups 10 years after I bought them - still in the same shop in Switzerland.

My nightly cup of herbal tea comes out of a glazed porcelain teapot.