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OMG, I’m in Hobart! 


I certainly didn’t plan to be here. Well, at least NOT this soon. Tasmania hovers in my mind but my idea was to be here in summer to avoid the chilly breeze from the Tasman Sea. But it’s nearly winter Down Under, and I’m right here down Down Under. Took the noontime flight from Sydney to meet up with a friend from Melbourne who’s also itching to visit this island south of Mainland Australia.





First off, we decided on our hotel right in the heart of Hobart’s CBD. Just a hop and a skip from the Waterfront. A few minutes from the Royal Tasmanian Botanical Garden, Salamanca Market, Battery Point and Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. Those attractions should keep us busy for at least a day, not to mention the interesting shops and row of restaurants flanking the wharf. List in hand and checking on the weather forecast, we ticked off a couple of day tours to commence our Tasmanian Holiday. Sounds like a plan?





I must confess I have not done much research on Tassie, as Tasmania is fondly called. But I do remember how my nephew and his young family raved about their holiday here. Unfortunately, I am not confident to drive on the other side of the road so that restricts our mobility here. But there are day tours north and south of Hobart — colonial town of Richmond, breathtaking Bruny Island, historic Port Arthur — and prebooking them was a breeze. In fact, I enjoyed communicating with these tour operators. We emailed each other like we were long-lost friends! And I’m reminded of my nephew’s story about this Tassie driver of the tour bus his young family was on some years ago. You see, my nephew and niece-in-law didn’t pack extra nappies for their young son. Asking the driver if they could possibly stop at a convenience store to buy the stuff, the Tassie driver took one look at the boy and told my nephew he’d take care of it. As it turned out, this kind man had a son of same age, called his wife and asked her to put a couple of nappies in some mailbox along the road they took towards their destination. Voila, in a few minutes he stopped by the designated mailbox to retrieve the nappies and gave them to my nephew. He didn’t even charge for the nappies.  How cool is that?





Salamanca Market caught our interest. Suckers for mercados, we can’t pass up this chance to see, feel, smell and taste the soul of Hobart, Tasmania. But it’s scheduled only on Saturdays so that had to wait. We did trace Kelly’s Steps towards Battery Point and from the top of stairs, looked back to see the old warehouses of Salamanca Place. I was expecting some magnificent mountains (Tasmania is Australia’s most mountainous state), breathtaking forest parks (half of the area is protected as national parks), beautiful waterfronts and seascape (it’s an island, after all!), but I wasn’t expecting it’s packed with so much history. The historic village in Battery Point is teeming with old houses and well-restored colonial buildings. We also found St. George Anglican Church, built in 1838. Standing on the highest spot in Battery Point, it seeks attention among rows of interesting old cottages with tiny rose gardens. 






We’ve been here only a few hours and glad we wasted no time sampling their food and checking the sites. It was a very leisurely walk from our hotel and we decided to head back as soon as the sun has set. Weather was pleasant for walking, but we’ve had a long day and an early call tomorrow. Watch this page! 





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Lest You Forget, Martin


I was 33 when I first visited Europe. You’re slightly less than half of that. You’re so blessed, Martin. And I know you’d never forget this wonderful adventure. Thanks to FB and IG, your souvenirs are forever stored in cyberspace. 






A pity we can be together for only a week in Madrid. But I knew you’d have a heck of an adventure with your aunts after Madrid.  Bilbao’s Guggenheim is an architectural marvel.  I bet your first Renfe train ride was, by itself, a magical journey. Dripping with excitement, you must have found that stone, glass and titanium creation of Frank Gehry a dream. Almost magical! 





I do not wish for you to remember San Sebastián simply for its food. I know. It does register as a superb food porn place. Can’t blame you. But just be reminded of its magnificent Basque architecture, breathtaking seascape, and of course, remember how you worked up a sweat climbing Mount Urgull. Thank Tita Shelly for packing a racion of La Viña cheesecake to “reward” you! And yes, Barcelona rocks, doesn’t it? Gaudi has truly weaved magic to this Catalan city. By this time, your tastebuds have become more discerning. Pulpo, Navajas, Orejas, Foie Gras, Chickpeas, Chistorra, Jabugo, Tarta de Quezo. Yum!






Zaragosa is where you found time to pray in thanksgiving for all your blessings. And more. Paris beckons. And there’s still so much of Madrid to explore. You may remember so much more. Your mind and your tastebuds will remind you. But best of all, cherish the happy memories in your heart. Memories of how much love and care you received. Snapshots of how so well-loved and blessed you are. 


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It was a clear, sunny morning for walking. But a rainy afternoon. We made good. Set out early enough, had a good lunch in the area near the Museum, and got promptly back in the car, heading home, when it started raining. 





Too bad the Museum was closed when we visited. But it was quite a sight , both from a distance and from its porch. Housed in a former cable station building, you can view the La Perouse Monument and the coast from the Museum porch.  This commanding view is a fitting tribute to  the French explorer Comte de Lapérouse who allegedly arrived in Botany Bay in 1787-1788 before his expedition mysteriously vanished. The Atlas of the Voyage of La Perouse is housed in this Museum.  Right outside of this Museum area, you can spot a row of restaurants and cafe bars including Danny’s where many chose to lunch on its famous fish and chips. 




We first rounded up the tower and crossed the bridge before a piccolo break and the walk along the coast. Being ANZAC DAY, there were many who had the same idea as ours. Young families with strollers, a group of scuba divers, a pair doing their pre-nuptial pictorial in the rocky coast, some fishermen-hobbyists, a crowd of tourists, hikers and a few nudists in a quiet corner of the beach. (Oooops…. )





There is a sign that 4 people have died in this rocky coast, a prompt reminder never to turn your back against the waters. Then again, I thought of the peril of bringing young children to play among the rocks.  But this morning, the water was calm and unthreatening. Still….. I thought the water must be cold for swimming but you’d never know that watching how these folks take to water. 





These Australians are extremely lucky to be blessed with such a natural landscape and seascape.  I can only envy those with easy access to the beach, maybe sharing lunch with seagulls, playing beach ball by the shore, and to a few (nudies), having a complete and even body tan! Congwong Bay Beach, Little Congwong Beach, and the beach at Frenchman’s Bay —– these swimming areas in Botany Bay are only 14 kilometers southeast of the Sydney CBD.  






A delight to walk around this area. Lots of activities going on, fine sand, a Museum (!), a nudist corner (!!), rock formations, pockets of scuba diving and fishing spots, an old bridge, a row of cafe bars and dining options. Your day’s complete! 








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You can’t leave Donostia-San Sebastián without promising to be back. No, you’d actually be swearing and checking your calendar to mark off dates for your repeat txikiteo! How I love this Basque city and its txikiteo or Pintxo bar crawl. So lively, so crowded, so full of energy and if you don’t watch it, so full of calories. 






San Sebastián’s skyline, its coast, its Basque architecture, the mountains looking like bookends to the equally lovely playas, the many Pintxo bars and restaurante. How can you not be so enthralled by its magnificent beauty? You come here to swim, surf or just bake in the sun, toes digging into the sand. At night, you get ready to do the txikiteo and enjoy the gildas and pintxos and cheesecake and txakoli! Life is good in Donostia-San Sebastián. 






Whenever I’m asked which Pintxo bars to check out here, the following come top of mind: La Cuchara de San Telmo, La Viña (cheesecake, baby!), La Cepa (Jamon Jabugo), Bar Zeruko, Casa Urola, Atari Gastroteka, Borda Berri, all in Parte Vieja. All just a few steps apart. Plus Bar Azkena in Mercado La Bretxa.  There are more. But heading back, I had this list like it’s a mission. 😉










Last time, we stayed in an Airbnb apartment.  Plus a night in Pension Larrea right in Parte Vieja — so perfect for txikiteo nights when you take pub crawls real seriously! This time, I tried a very modern and hip hostel (they have private ensuite too) which I thought is very cool. My latest discovery here is A Room In The City. It actually costs more than a room right in Parte Vieja but it is more quiet here. Plus it is very near Buen Pastor Cathedral (which runs straight into Yglesia de Santa Maria in Old Town) and has a pretty neat sun deck and spacious dining hall and lounge. Next visit, I’d likely book here again. Perhaps spend more time in the deck or lounge. 




Check this out: http://jollybelly.weebly.com/blog/a-room-in-the-city-san-sebastian


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Well …… it’s a 7 hour layover and we’re enjoying the food, drinks and huge shower room (my favorite corner here) of Al Dhabi Lounge in Abu Dhabi while waiting for our connecting flight to Manila. Still, it’s a seriously long wait and what better thing to do? BLOG ! Yes, before those memories fade. 


Palacio Cristal in Parque de Retiro


Travels have a way of emptying one’s mind of day-to-day concerns. Perhaps to make room for our fond memories. There is that giddy anticipation over new places, flavors and experiences. I delight in the novelty, discovery as well as in the rediscovery of past delights. Cameras make great memory-keepers but our minds play out varied reactions  with each discovery and replay of happy thoughts. Priceless. When I was growing up “alone” (busy parents, older sisters in college), I learned to read a lot and write down my thoughts. I completed many diaries and even named them. Dear Betty. Dear Jane. Dear Henry. Dear Kevin. Whenever I feel seriously sad, I write. Whenever I feel happy, I write more. Life is a celebration. And it’s worth writing about. If only to remind me of the many things to be grateful for.  No handwritten diaries this time. Thank God for blogsites where I can store my journals in cyberspace while drinking my cortado!


Mi favorito, Cafe Cortado!




Mi hermana. Mi sobrina. Mi nieto. Mi amigos y amigas. All together in dear Madrid, which is home for 6 years to my dear sobrina. I have visited yearly for at least a month to nearly 3 months. Left alone in our Madrid crib in times past, I’ve learned to appreciate Madrid’s many quaint alleys, tiny squares, specialty museums, roadside taperias, and many off-the-beaten paths. No tocar (don’t touch) rule in mercados doesn’t apply in my favorite fruit and vegetable stall. There, this “suki” can enjoy touching the zucchini, potatoes, carrots, spinach, asparagus, naranja, mushrooms, etc. The vendor simply hands me a bowl or basket to fill with my chosen greens and fruits. And the cheese store where I get to taste slices of different quezos — “para probar” (to try). Or ask the fish vendor to clean the fish I buy. Mercado visits are no obligations here, they’re actually delightful adventures. And walking without maps, missing turns and getting lost? There’s always a cafe bar or Iglesia to relax in, meditate, or simply sit out and while away the time. If you chance upon a wedding in the church, it’s your good luck. Cheap thrills! 


Parroquia de San Jeronimo. Behind Museo Del Prado.


And so our Spanish Holiday with sidetrips to Lourdes and Saint John Pied de Port in France is over. Temps rise as our plane lands in Manila. Our hair still a tad limp and wet from the shower we took in the lounge. Our bellies still full from the buffet spread. Our hearts warm with the precious bonding moments. Our minds filled with happy memories. Our leg muscles reminding us we’re no longer spring chickens. And our pockets dry and burned out. Tee Hee. 😉 It would likely take a week to recover our energy to prep for another flight Down Under. From the last dregs of winter to early spring to the intense summer heat of Manila before we catch the onset of Autumn in Sydney. Phew! 


Nap Time En Parque Retiro 😴


Adios, España. Hasta luego.


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I’m nearing the end of my holiday. Just one more week. Had my sister and grandnephew with me with some friends visiting. I’ve posted blogs on my other sites to chronicle what kept us busy. Here goes. 





Madrid

Madrid is home. Have shown friends around and some a 2nd time. Always a pleasure. Each time, I can’t help pointing out some of our local heroes’ favorite haunts. Patriotic and curious? Maybe. 

https://lifeisacelebration.blog/2017/03/13/lento-como-los-caracoles/

(Updated)

https://lifeisacelebration.blog/2015/04/30/platea-madrid/ 





Pamplona

Friends know me well enough as a big fan of Rizal, Luna and …. Hemingway. Don’t ask me why. I just find something seriously intriguing about each of them. 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2017/03/20/the-sun-also-rises-in-pamplona/

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2017/03/27/murallas-de-pamplona/

http://jollybelly.weebly.com/blog/restaurant-irunazarra






San Sebastián

You can’t leave San Sebastián without swearing you’d be back again. The coast, the mountains, the shore, the food!!!

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2017/03/29/beyond-gildas-pintxos-en-donostia-san-sebastian/

http://jollybelly.weebly.com/blog/segunda-vez-en-bar-zeruko

http://jollybelly.weebly.com/blog/la-vina-cheesecake-is

https://lifeisacelebration.blog/2017/04/12/san-sebastian-lures-me-back/

http://jollybelly.weebly.com/blog/a-room-in-the-city-san-sebastian




Alcala de Henares

When touring Madrid, there’s that nagging idea of hopping on a train to be away from the city center yet still find the art, culture and character of Iberia. Here’s one just under an hour by local train. Only €6.80 yda y vuelta. 

https://retirementsuitsme.wordpress.com/2017/04/01/goofing-with-cervantes/


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SLOW. Like Snails. 

Why not? It’s my 6th visit to Madrid and this time taking my oldest sister for a month-long holiday. The first day was hard for her, hardly sleeping on our long flight from Manila. We managed to go out on Day 2 but careful not to tire her out. The bus in front of our Madrid crib took us to Almudena Cathedral, right beside Palacio Real. The mandatory shots in front of the Royal Palace turned out alright. There was a long snaking line outside for those seeking admission into the Palace. We trooped to the nearby Cathedral instead where a mass was going on. Coming out, we turned right down the street to get inside La Crypta. For a €1 donativo, one finds solace in this Crypt underneath the Cathedral. An altar inside tells you that mass services must be held here too though I never heard one since I started frequenting the place. Why, you ask? I like how tranquil the place is. More so than in the Cathedral where the religious and the tourists comprise the crowd. One time, I sat beside a friendly priest visiting from Zimbabwe. We prayed quietly then. 




From La Crypta, we crossed the street to view portions of the ancient muralla (walls) before walking up along Calle Mayor. It’s a 1 kilometer walk from this corner to Puerta Del Sol. Many iconic landmarks and short detours along this main road. First off is my favorite tiny square called Plaza de la Villa. The old Town Hall can be found here. The oldest building, fully restored, in Madrid. Across it is the Tower where the French monarch Francois I was imprisoned for a year following their defeat in the Battle of Pavia. In the center of the square is a statue of a naval commander who led the Spanish Armada. Truly, a very interesting square.




Not very far, and still walking along Calle Mayor, you’d find Mercado de San Miguel. You can pick up a Sangria or a Tinto de Verano here, to go with a cone of fried calamares or octopus or boquerones. Great appetizers! The giant paelleras of greatlooking Paella Negra or Marinara may appeal to firsttimers like my sister. But I won’t be fooled a 2nd time 😜. From here, we walked just a few more steps, under one of 9 or so arched entrance ways, towards Plaza Mayor. Being a Saturday, it was way too crowded. 




Museo de Jamon. It’s a chain. Their tapas bar on the littered ground floor is packed with tourists. On the second floor, we found a table and this old waiter who fondly calls my niece La Niña. We took our seats, and ordered enough for our lunch here, and leftover dinner later! No problem having a meal replay of callos, pecaditos and boquerones. We didn’t bring home the pulpo, and we drank our sangria to the last drop. It won’t be our best meal and we’re really being touristy here, but hey, it’s my sister’s first time in Madrid. 




For dessert, we walked FASTER towards Chocolateria de San Gines. Churros con Chocolate for my sister and niece. Cafe for me. Refueled, we managed to do some shopping. Then some snapshots with the Bear and the Strawberry Tree statue, an iconic landmark to be found in the Puerta Del Sol. Before taking the metro here going home, I wanted to get inside La Mallorquina for some napoleones and marron glacé but the place looked like it’s been invaded by tourists! 




Home is in Bravo Murillo. We heard anticipated mass in the Parroquia right next to our building. Estamos Felices! 




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I realize I can’t do this in one go. Not all of 800 kilometers (500 miles) in one go over a period of 6 weeks or so. But after walking my first camino spanning the last 114 kilometers from Sarria to Santiago de Compostela, I knew it would be the first of many. One year after, I did the last 100 kilometers from Viterbo to Rome — what’s called Via Francigena which is the Italian equivalent of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. Both tracing pilgrimage hiking trails, one ending in the northwestern part of Spain, the other ending in Vatican City. 




The same year I walked from Viterbo to Rome, I likewise tried a short leg of the famed Nakasendo Trail from Magome to Tsumago to Nagiso in Japan. Like a preview or sampler of a longer hike sometime in the future. In Japan. But one idea continues to occupy my mind. The Camino Frances. From St. Jean Pied de Port (SJPdP) to Santiago de Compostela (SDC). Not just a part of it. The whole 800 kilometers of it. Yet, how? The mere thought of crossing the Pyrenees freaks me out of my wits. 




First off, I accepted the reality that walking everyday for 5 to 6 weeks will make me miserable. Maybe I’d fail and go home limping, mad and frustrated with myself. So I’d settle for “mini successes”.  Like breaking up the 800-km hike into 8-9 adventures, each involving 100 kms or so over 5 or so walking days. I thought the following itineraries doable: 

St. Jean PdP to Pamplona (68kms)

      SJPP to Valcarlos (Done)

      Valcarlos to Roncesvalles (Done)

      Roncesvalles to Pamplona

Pamplona to Logroño (94 kms)

Logroño to Burgos (121 kms)

Burgos to Sahagún (124 kms)

Sahagún to Leon (56 kms)

Leon to Ponferrada (103 kms)

Ponferrada to Sarria (92 kms)

Sarria to Santiago de Compostela (114 kms) — DONE




Then, I read that the WORST, HARDEST, MOST PUNISHING walk is the first leg of Camino Frances. Specifically, the first walking day from SJPdP to Roncesvalles. Literally across the French-Spanish border in the Pyrenees area. No wonder most walking guides say most quitters do so on the first 2 days. My research taught me it’s also not as daunting as literally climbing up and down a mountain. Over time, this leg may have been “romanticized” as “crossing the Pyrenees” though that is not to say that it’s not difficult. Let’s just say there are ways to walk AROUND the mountains. 




Many break the SJPdP to Roncesvalles route into 2 walking days, either stopping and resting the night in Orisson or in Valcarlos. Others simply skip this route and start their camino past the border in Roncesvalles. I’m determined to start from St. Jean Pied de Port. I’m also realistic enough to set this goal only up to Roncesvalles so that my next camino would be entirely in Spain’s Basque Country towards Navarra and Galicia. Small victories, I reminded myself. Just go past that crucial border crossing!  




I hope to do this entire Camino Frances before I hit 71. Why 71? It’s the age I lost my old man and I just know that if he were around, he’d do this pilgrimage walk with me.  Perhaps even at a faster pace! So there. Seems like a good plan. Wish me luck. God bless me with good health and the spirit to do this. 


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CAMINO REFLECTIONS



Humility

One trick works when doing uphill climbs. Look down, as if tracing your steps. Somehow you forget how steep an incline you’re scaling. Just like in life — uphill climbs are struggles meant to humble ourselves. We struggle to reach the top but the best advice remains: succeed with your feet firmly on the ground. With heads bowed, humility is the true measure of a successful man. 


Listening

What is the best prayer while walking the Camino? I’d say the best and hardest is to listen. Everyday life has tuned us to many of life’s distractions. If only we can empty our minds of all these cobwebs that easily. It probably starts when our muscles begin to ache and the rhythm of walking dulls our senses to pull through. When we ache without suffering, we listen. The pain is dulled and we prep ourselves to listen. First to our body, then without warning, our mind opens up in prayer to listen. Prayerful thoughts without the prayer recitations. 

Mindfulness

A friend reminded me that communing with Nature is mindfulness. It comes after the initial pain and aches. One’s senses are heightened, fully engaged. Mono-tasking prevails. You walk, and mind how you walk. You look around and the beauty around you cheers you up. His presence felt with every lovely tree you pass, every stone and pebble you step on, every leaf felt crunching under your soles, every fragrance from the forest and woodlands you cross. 

Instant Familiarity & Openness

When you walk the Camino, you come across strangers who don’t feel like strangers. It’s not them. It’s YOU. The newfound “openness” within you offers instant familiarity. Walked my first Camino SOLO, and the familiar faces of fellow peregrinos made me feel safe and never alone. For a mile or two, you walk with some before bidding them “Buen Camino” – a cue you’d walk ahead or behind, depending on your pace. But for those 2 miles or so, you’re talking initially to a stranger who slowly transforms into a pilgrim buddy. Hardly asking about names, profession and status. Quickly and almost logically, these aren’t important details anymore. Pilgrim buddies rather talk about how long they’ve been walking, where they started, and how they feel. They may even share meals, clink beer bottles, laugh at jokes or pray together. This I miss. To others, don’t hesitate to walk alone. The Camino provides. God provides. 


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The Gift of Time



Please do not grieve

For I have truly lived

Every single day & second

Not one moment wasted. 


I was born with some gifts

But later learned more tricks

To detach from wordly stuff

Love and harmony enough. 


I’ve seen snow-capped mountains

And far too many ancient fountains

Sunrises, glowing sunsets & moonlights

As pretty as the skies at twilights. 


Solitary walks my pleasures

Nothing fancy by any measure

In touch with myself, alone with my thoughts

While adding up all the naughts.


Yet there’s that time with you I relish

A memory I cherish 

Just as my hair turned gray

Unmindful even when things go astray.


I have gifted you with experiences

Plus memories & all the time I could give

Continue on, my loves, and understand

How precious is the gift of time.


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