Category: Musings & Ramblings



I have been dreaming of my camino de Santiago de Compostela like forever. I realized that dream on the first week of May 2015. Yes, just this year. And just nearly 3 months ago. I waited for many of my friends to join me, only to decide to do it solo. Well, not exactly solo. I joined caminoways which organized my camino for 6 walking days and booked all my hotel and luggage transfers, as well as my breakfasts and dinners. I dreaded walking so far only to find no decent accommodations and sleeping without dinner. I decided well. The pre-booked hotels and meals were all good, and all I worried about is finishing the day’s walk. All of 113 kilometers in 6 walking days. Minimum daily walk is 15 kilometers. Other days, we walked 30 kilometers including detours! 

 
On the Feast Day of Saint James (July 25), I mused over my own camino. Interestingly, I thought back to all those moments when I felt God’s presence in the green fields, the moist smell of the forest, the encounters with grazing farm animals, the non-verbal interactions via sign language with friendly locals, the centuries-old medieval bridges crossed by many pilgrims before me, the tiny, dark churches in the quaint hamlets we passed, the muddied paths and puddles of rainwater along the trail. NEVER did the pain of walking so many miles in the rain cross my mind. If at all, I look at my little toes and reminisce how I persevered to finish my camino. A little triumphant sensation there, I confess. 

 

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time savoring my camino moments after my walk. Soon after, I met up with cousins visiting Madrid and then I had to fly to Berlin to meet up with friends before flying into Copenhagen to join our Scandinavian cruise. After sailing back to Denmark, I then flew back to Madrid with a couple of friends to join up with 2 more couples flying in from USA. The reunion lasted 3 weeks and covered many side trips from Madrid including bus and train trips to Burgos, Bilbao, Getaria, San Sebastian, Lourdes (in France), Irun, Santiago de Compostela (yes, I went back too soon), Muxia, Fisterra, Oporto, Fatima and Lisbon.  The adventure with friends left me no time to really indulge in more musings over my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. Besides, the experience was clouded by a couple more pilgrimages to Lourdes, France and Fatima, Portugal. It’s an altogether wonderful experience. Really. Just that I would have wanted to relive the memory of EVERY SINGLE DAY of my camino and remember how all the yellow arrows directed me throughout my weeklong camino. 

 
I have been “on the go” since May. Even well before that, as I spent a week in Madrid doing more “practice walks” before hopping on that 6 hour train to Santiago de Compostela. When I returned to Manila mid-June, I only had a week to prepare for my family from Sydney spending a whole month with us. Plus there’s the Bangkok wedding which the entire family and a few friends (all 23 of us!) attended. On the feast day of Saint James, the last batch of my OZ family took the flight back to Sydney. I am left with many happy memories of family reunions, wedding, Bangkok sidetrips, and quite honestly, bonding across 4 generations within our family.  Such memories would last me many lifetimes. As would my “me-moments with my God” during my camino. I find it a luxury to indulge myself with those lovely images and experiences from my camino now. No matter what you hear or read, your Camino is YOUR CAMINO.  It’s a personal experience — an adventure, if you like — that is completely your own. I walked more than a hundred kilometers but more than half of those walking ALONE. Alone with my thoughts. In sync with Nature, and over-the-top with the wondrous solitude to pray as much and as long for others, and for myself and my family. Before the walk, I listed a hundred names of people I’d pray for. A kilometer for each, some of whom I do not know at all. The thought of praying for someone else pulled me through. Funny that whenever I prayed for myself, I’d always catch myself praying for “no blisters”. More so whenever I stop to change my socks, wiggle my toes and slather my feet with Vaseline. I even picked up the habit of ordering a beer to “reward” myself every afternoon, and some glasses of red wine come dinner time. Every morning when I woke up, I prayed and thanked the Lord for the renewed energy, well-rested limbs, and newfound enthusiasm for another day’s walk. I never lost the excitement over what I’ll find along the camino trail. Somehow, I likewise looked forward to the mid-morning and late lunch breaks  when I find myself interacting with fellow pilgrims from different countries. One funny thing here is finding yourself deep in conversation with another pilgrim whose name you never asked. Yet you remember his nationality, from where he started his camino, and how long he has been walking.  Other times, you’d be walking with a few for about a mile, engaged in serious and not-so-serious conversations, before bidding each other “Buen Camino”. If you meet them at your next coffee break, you greet each other like long lost friends. Such is the camino routine and vibes and I gladly eased into this  “behavior”. 
I finished my camino without any blisters. I pity those who trudged on with blisters, nasty sore toes,  and for a few, lost toenails.  Thankful every time I reached our hotel even when there were days we were soaking from the rain. Nothing beats that first beer of the day. Except perhaps that first minute when you soak your tired feet in a tub filled with hot water. Many times I fell asleep till the water turned really cold around my swollen feet. Every night, I’d wash my hair and then wear my camino clothes for the next day. Yes, fat chance I’d jump into my pajamas and then change into my camino shirt and shorts the following morning. Happened only on the first night. πŸ˜„ Waking up every morning was a breeze as I only needed to brush my teeth, put on my socks and shoes, and walk out the room. I’m not embarassed to admit this. Really. And it’s one good advice I’d give anyone planning a camino. Starting the day right, with as much ease and convenience, is the way to go. 
SLOW. I’m beginning to like this word. It is NOT a contest. Why rush? You have the WHOLE DAY to do it. My daily camino started every morning at a convenient time of 8:30 am. It helps a lot that you know you have a room in the next hotel where you’d finish your day’s walk.  Invariably, I’m done by mid-afternoon. And that includes coffee breaks, lunch breaks, pee breaks, oxygen breaks, and the occasional beer or wine. Mind you, I lingered over my lunch. It’s a major social activity for the day. A time to meet new walking buddies, swap first-aid plasters and ointments, listen to more (Irish) jokes πŸ˜„, “score” some passing hunks on bikes 😜, and share some energy bars sitting and adding weight to your backpacks. Altogether, these breaks are all too important to rest your limbs and maintain your sanity. When you start having a conversation with your leg muscles, your hip joints or your little toes, you know it’s time for a cafe con leche, cafe cortado, cerveza, rioja, or a bocadillo. πŸ‘£πŸ‘£πŸ‘£

 
Will I do another camino in my lifetime? I’ve met many septuagenarians who whizzed past me. Many walked alone. Many on their 2nd or 3rd camino. I would love to do this again. Perhaps walk the whole hog from St. Jean or Roncesvalles — but in installments. Like a week or 2 at a time.  Let’s see. Meanwhile, BUEN CAMINO! 
 


For more details and photos, check out my blog here.  And yes, do share your own camino memories here. πŸ˜€


For more blogs celebrating life, check out : 

https://lifeisacelebration.blog/

http://www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/liliram/


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MADRID

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/22/homebased-in-madrid/

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/23/death-in-the-afternoon/

BURGOS

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/24/el-cids-burgos

SAN SEBASTIAN

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/25/eating-around-san-sebastian-spain/

BILBAO 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/27/the-euskotren-to-bilbao/

GETARIA 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/26/balenciaga-de-getaria-viva-vasco/

LOURDES 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/26/be-still-back-in-lourdes-france/

SANTIAGO DE COMPOSTELA 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/27/menos-emocional-en-santiago-de-compostela/

FINISTERRE & MUXIA 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/28/game-over-in-finisterre-y-muxia/

FATIMA 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/07/04/one-morning-in-fatima/

SINTRA 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/30/sintra-a-royal-favorite/

LISBON 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2015/06/29/san-antonio-festival-in-lisbon/

Our VIDEO: http://youtu.be/lfv7iBfh0f4


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The BUTAFUMEIRO Β (incensory) and the TIRABOLEIROS (incense carriers robed in red). The magnificent scene of the smoking, swinging incensory during the Pilgrim’s Mass in the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela is forever etched in my memory.


Many come to Santiago de Compostela and consider this the highlight of their trip. I admit it’s quite a spectacle. And a fitting end to a 113km camino desde Sarria in Lugo. Β Many others walked longer distances — a few limping along with blistered feet, wind- and sun-burned, some a few kilos lighter. Me? Not a kilo lighter. But I may have developed leg muscles and swollen feet from all the walking. As well as sunspots across my face. I now realize they’re not big issues with me.Β 

What are the big issues then? The distance — how can I forget the day we walked 32.6 kms? And the weather. I don’t mind if it’s cold or sunny. But it’s a pain to get in and out of poncho raincoats! Many times too I’d put on the poncho before my backpack — which meant I had to redo everything so the backpack stays covered by the poncho. The mud? I don’t mind, except when it’s slippery. The uphill climbs…. Oh Lord. Thirty years of smoking took its toll. I felt like a really really old lady — hunchbacked and all with a backpack and poncho — with every step I took on steep inclines. Yet still, no big issues. Amused myself enough on those climbs. Happy thoughts!Β 

Go slow. Listen to the birds. Feel the sweet, moist smell of the forests. Mind the yellow arrows. Let Maryanne entertain you with her lovely singing voice. Be impressed with 70+ y.o. Herta’s camino pace — slow, deliberate and sure. Catch the funny exchange between buddies Carole and Helen. These 2 kept me amused often enough. May and Beth will keep you distracted from the muscle pains as they regale you with many interesting and funny stories. Such good walking companions! When Ann W and Sue wait up at the bend for you, and ask how you’re doing, you feel touched by the kindness. And how inspiring to find a mother-daughter team walking with you. Ann C and Missy make me consider another camino with my grandchildren. That is, if I can keep myself in good shape like Herta! And Chus. What would we do without young, lovely Chus? Thank you all, witches. I mean, ladies. Missing you all already!Β 

So, my camino ends for now. But the memories linger. We made it!Β 

DAY 1: https://marilil.wordpress.com/2015/05/03/my-camino-switching-off-for-a-week/

DAY 2:Β https://marilil.wordpress.com/2015/05/05/day-2-a-very-wet-camino/

DAY 3:Β https://marilil.wordpress.com/2015/05/06/day-3-camino-back-into-the-woods/

DAY 4:Β https://marilil.wordpress.com/2015/05/07/my-camino-day-4-the-best/

DAY 5:Β https://marilil.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/camino-day-5-can-you-believe-it/

DAY 6:Β https://marilil.wordpress.com/2015/05/09/my-camino-its-over-but-not-really/

Witches away!


http://youtu.be/ByPqqO8Qwus


The peregrinos are coming to town. It’s a Friday and the noontime and evening masses for pilgrims at the lovely Romanesque cathedral in Santiago de Compostela will have 8 robed men swinging the butafumeiro across the isles. As I soldiered on on this wet and windy day, many younger pilgrims zoomed past me, unmindful of the cold and rain. They could reach Santiago in time for the mass at noon. 


 

 Believe me, getting in and out of your rain poncho can be a mood spoiler. Much more so for those wearing rain pants. But it’s the last day. Our last 15 kms. As the Irish, German and locals zipped past on foot or on bikes, each had an expectant look.  “Buen Camino” which means “Have a good camino or walk” has also substituted for “hello” and “excuse me” or “move aside” as when they overtake you along the trail. 

 

 

 

 Most peregrinos stop at Monte do Gozo to have their first glimpse of the spires of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. It’s the last hill before reaching Santiago, about 4 kilometers away. Windy, overcast sky, cold and wet, we made a collective sigh of relief that the “end” is near. Our hearts felt the church spires beckoning us to march on. 

 

 

 

 

As soon as we stood before the Church, the dam broke. I cried. Such joy to be here. Such an honor to make this pilgrimage. All worth the wet, cold, windy camino days. The swollen feet from all the walking and the swollen hand from holding the shaft or walking stick.  This “jubilada” (retiree — which is what they registered at the Pilgrims’ Office when asked my profession) made it! And I’m happy that we made this hike in 6 days, feeling every step of the pilgrimage. Gracias, SeΓ±or. 

 

 

The Pilgrim’s Mass at 7:30pm had the entire cathedral filled up as early as half hour before the service. Came a good hour early and claimed front seat. Soon after the service, the tiraboleiros prepared to swing the metal thurible. Botafumeiro is that giant thurible or incensory that they swing across the isles, up and down, pulled by 8 men in deep red robes. Botafumeiro in Galician means smoke-expeller. And the robed men in charge of the swinging thurible are called tiraboleiros which mean incense carrier in Galician.  

 

 

Such a fitting end to this pilgrimage. Feeling blessed. Unlike those who made the 300-800km journey (or even longer), I can’t claim any lifechanging miracle. But I have a newfound discovery. Life, as with uphill climbs, need NOT be rushed. It’s hard. But taking breaks –a breather– every so often makes a seemingly impossible task doable. Often enough, I had to remind myself to slow down and walk in a relaxed manner. As with life, we sometimes do things just to get it over with. In this Camino, I discovered SLOW works. 

 

Gracias, Señor. Gracias, San Tiago de Compostela. Gracias to my nueva amigas : Maria Chus, Herta, Beth, Maryanne, May, Anne W, Helen, Carole, Ann, Misty, Sue. God bless you all😘

http://youtu.be/ByPqqO8Qwus


Funny how one starts thinking it will be another “short hike”. You see, the camino trail should have covered 28 kilometers but a great decision was made to “break” this legbreaker into 2 days. Entonces, it’s 28 kms in 2 days. Enough reason to start a tad perky yesterday and today. But it rained yesterday. Not so today.Β 


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We left our hotel in Melide around 9:30am and walked a bit off the trail to visit this pulperia, a church and a zapateria. Another reason to feel perky after a “late start”. For the first time, there was a mass service on this Wednesday during this camino journey. Great start!Β 

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By the time we were ready to resume our camino, 2 in our groupΒ had new leather boots in their backpacks. If we weren’t full from breakfast, we could have spent more time in that pulperia.Β 


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Enjoyed the best weather today. Cold when we started, but sun’s out and trail’s lovely as we weaved through Galicia’s countryside. This part — from Melide to Arzua — is very interesting. Β We shared the camino path with cows, had lunch in a small cafe bar (Santiago) whose pet dog attempted to follow us as we were leaving. Friendly dog, friendly cafe bar owner. He gave us so many “freebies” like more cheese, jamon, cake etc. Lovely man!Β 


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This part of the Camino is the best so far. “Only” 14 kilometers today through one of the picturesque parts of Galicia. Both the farmlands and villages are charming. Gosh, did I actually say that? ONLY 14 KILOMETERS TODAY. For someone who is lucky to hit 10,000 steps in a day, you better believe that!

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Though I struggled with the uphill climbs — 30 years of heavy smoking do that to you! — I enjoyed the hike. It helps too that we didn’t get rained out today.Β 


Birds chirping, feeling the “crunch” upon stepping on fallen leaves, crossing a bubbly stream, a slight drizzle, muddy paths, and cow manure here and there. Β Β 




 

It’s hard to deprive one’s self with a copa of vino or cerveza. I should stop. Dehydration Β issues and balance issues and all. Even the vino during dinners, much that I enjoy them, should be given up. One of the 4 ladies I’m walking with told me that she’s giving up smoking in this Camino. “That’s great” I said. To which she smilingly replied “…. just that I don’t smoke”. Touche! Let me have my vino!

 

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There’s a lot of my musings and ramblings as my knees struggled through the uphill climbs, downhill walks and flooded/muddied paths. Β Many oxygen breaks happened here. I’m good walking some distances on flat, dry surfaces. And without a backpack! But I’m compelled to use a backpack to carry my change of socks, vaseline, and fleece vest. Oh ok, the chocolate and energy bars are in there too. Galician weather is hard to predict. Funny how I don’t miss sunny spells (I break out in sweat!) and how thankful I am whenever it rains just when we’ve stopped for some coffee or caldo! But today, it rained again on the last leg of the camino. Too lazy to put on my poncho. Just trudged along hoping the hotel is at the next bend.Β 

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Being close to Nature makes for good contemplative monents. Whenever a gust of wind ruffles your hair, you cant help but smile. The aroma of cow manure brings you back to your senses, but in a positive way. For the life of me, I welcomed the scent of farm life. The simplicity of Galician life renders you grateful that you’re doing this walk, able to count your many blessings. A pilgrimage or an adventure? It is both for me. I wanted to challenge myself as much as I wanted to do my “spiritual retreat”. I’m having my moment. Can’t even bring myself to complain when it rains, gets really cold or when I couldn’t figure out where to step on a muddied path. Really.Β 

 



 

Walking, I am listening to a deeper way. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen”. Β — Linda HoganΒ 

Buen Camino!


 

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Well, not exactly. Or you wouldn’t be reading this. Pre-booked hotels via caminoways.com have excellent wifi connection. Yey! But I confess I felt a great deal of excitement over the looming solitude and physical challenge as I prepared for the last 113 kilometers or 70 miles walking from Sarria in Lugo to Santiago de Compostela. As the day neared, i grew more anxious…. bordering on nervous wreck. Can I really do this?

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Switching off. At least for 6 hours each single walking day. No sweat. I can easily do that. Even longer, if need be. My practice walks then lasted 2-3 hours straight. Like 20,000 steps or so. But this time, it’s not only longer hours. The ground’s not paved nor even, and there’s an incline here and there. In some spots, Β it’s not even dry. Very wet, I may add. Even muddy. Every couple of hours, the camino is suspended for some serious oxygen breaks, backstretching, fluid replenishment, dry-ups, pee breaks, or just a change of socks and slathering of more Vaseline on the feet.Β 




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“Every pilgrimage is a journey backwards. Every pilgrim’s step is a step towards his childhood.” Β Β 
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There is a saying on the French route: the first third is physical, the second third is mental and the third third is spiritual. Many pilgrims seem to fall into this rhythm. In my case, it started out as spiritual. I wanted this so much as my own spiritual retreat of sorts. I likewise made a mental note that 113 kilometers is punctuated by gastronomic breaks and all I had to do is think pulpo gallega and caldo gallego to keep those legs moving! As I took my first camino step, my faith & confidence combined to make this a meaningful Day 1 of my camino. As the roads and paths stretched before me, the physical demands of the camino wiped out all pulpo dreams. All I wanted was to reach the pre-arranged hostel, take a bath, put up my legs and sleep. These images all threatened to break my concentration as I prayed many rosaries. On Day 1, 6 rosaries.Β 
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I was NEVER more aware of my body and physical state than NOW. It’s like I know the condition of every toe attached to my feet. Like I’m having an altercation with every leg muscle. My brain’s all messed up halfway through Day 1’s camino. It’s 23 kilometers today. Yeah, what a fine introduction. But looking at many pilgrims from all over the world passing me — a few limping through, having walked nearly 700 kilometers — it is such a humbling experience NOT to complain.Β 
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Dinner in these parts isΒ at 9pm. I worry I may not make it to dinner. Definitely dinner is more a social activity rather than nourishment for me this time. It’s a struggle to keep awake after the hike and then, a leisurely stroll around the village. I know others may think this part of the Camino is the more popular, more touristy, noisier, more about the adventure rather than the pilgrimage type. But hey, who’s judging? Certainly not me. We come for different reasons. We each make our own Camino? But whoever said it’s easy is lying! (And it’s only Day 1 😭😭😭)


I’m GUILTY as charged. Got into a snapping frenzy when we visited the monks in Mandalay’s many monasteries and learning centers, and whenever, wherever, however we found them — in temples, in the market, along the streets, walking, resting, in prayer, dining, in study. We couldn’t stop! So can’t many others.

 

 

 

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And it’s never more true than when we caught them lining up towards their dining hall where a group must have donated their sumptuous 2nd and last meal of the day. Perhaps “extravagant” by monks’ standards. The usual 1 or 2-dish meals expanded to 5, but at the price of being watched and photographed while dining. Forgive me, for saying this. I am just as guilty. It took another fellow (thanks, Bob) to remind me that it didn’t seem right to photograph them while they are eating. More so to have photos taken with them in the background. Come to think of it, why in heaven’s name do we do that?

 

 

 

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Quite frankly, I would not have hesitated to join the monks at the slightest hint of an invitation. Shame on me. The silence was palpable. I hardly heard any plate or bowl being moved nor any tin cup being put down. At some point, I wondered if the monks chew their food. I didn’t hear a sound!

 

 

 

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Mandalay is said to be the monastic center of Myanmar. Many monasteries and monks’ learning centers are located there. And we visited the bigger ones where these monks can be observed while praying, studying and dining. Much like a tourist attraction. In one, I felt like we barged in while young monks are having their study periods. The headmaster in sight didn’t seem to mind. One young monk in particular was weirdly hamming it up, playing with his cat knowing our cams are all trained on him.

 

 

 

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Not all are big and well-funded. We visited a remote school a boat ride away from Old Bagan and found a small village supporting a few young monks. At the time we visited, we wondered what else these monks do outside of prayer and study times. Being dependent on these poor villagers’ support for food and other basic necessities, it would have been more pragmatic to also teach them farming, fishing and other means of livelihood. Much like some other monks elsewhere who farm even just for their own food requirements or tend vineyards, coffee plantations, etc. to earn enough to cover their needs.

 

 

 

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A wake up call. I’m done with my monks’ photography. Let this set be my last. Mi apologia. I leave you guys alone now.

 

 

 

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β€œAll travel has its advantages. If the passenger visits better countries, he may learn to improve his own. And if fortune carries him to worse, he may learn to enjoy it.” – Samuel Johnson

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The Man and His Camel

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The Many Bright Colors of Indian Fabrics

India is a progressive country, yielding so many young billionaires like it’s in fashion! I saw the riches, glamour and the princely pleasures of the majaranas and maharajas in their past echoing into their current life situation, as well as the poverty and chaos to be found in the rural villages and narrow alleys of the cities.

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Diwali “flowers” Sold Along Major Streets

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A Bullock Cart Ride Across A Rural Village near Bijay Niwas

Twilight Zone it seemed as one is transported from the comforts of a former royal manor to a rural village where cow dung is held sacred. Or being whizzed through narrow alleys past stalls selling nearly anything from candied sweets to multi-colored grains and spices, to fabrics glowing with gemstones to carpets sold as cost overruns and rejects from fashionable name stores in Paris and Milan. Truly, a sensory overload and I have not even begun to describe our actual experience.

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Street Photography

Parasols In Lovely Colors

Parasols In Lovely Colors

Photographers would have a blast capturing human interest shots here. Indian women are so beautiful, so exotic-looking, especially with their colorful sarees. The wide-eyed children with curly locks aren’t camera-shy and would even prod you to photograph them. What’s best is many locals love having their photos with tourists like us. Many times I evaded the cam thinking I’m photobombing —- only for the locals to ask me to stay put and pose with them. Incredible Indians!

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The markets here extend way over the main roads, sometimes spilling right in front of temple gates or along fortress walls. Camel and donkey carts, along with the occasional elephant, compete with rickshaws and tuktuks for attention. Haggling is an art, as ancient as the forts and palaces. I didn’t observe any zoning system, finding mansions side by side with shanties. There is absolutely no pretense to hide the bad, the ugly, the dirty. The stark and naked truth either shocks or charms you. Either way it hits you, India is truly incredible to the core.

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Seventy Odd Years

 

We recall the early years
And thank God for these blessings
Such a delight this life
With triumphs and a few fights.

 

 

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Ten years of separation and a whole ocean apart
Love spans many miles and travels over ebbs and tides,

Sisters at birth; joined at the hearts
Survivors, from the same bodily hurts.

 

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What’s there to celebrate at 70?
God’s precious gifts of love & life

Family & Friends

Come, help us celebrate!

 

 

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