The Emerald Isle

In honor of St. Patrick’s Day here’s a report on my trip to Ireland this January.

All pictures included are from a 2006 visit. My phone crashed and I had to “restore factory settings”, unfortunately before I had downloaded my pictures from my recent trip. Learn from my mistakes, don’t let this happen to you!

Part One: Belfast, Northern Ireland

A bargain airfare coupled with upgrades that were about to expire inspired this quick trip to Ireland. My friend, Mary & I flew into Dublin and after inquiring at the information desk in the airport boarded a Belfast bound bus. I had planned on traveling via train but the expense & effort of transferring to the train station and the fare is double of that for the bus straight from the airport. The bus was subject to the vagaries of traffic but seemed the best choice. We determined that we could return to Dublin City Center the next day instead of the airport, bought our tickets and groggily bounced our way up the highway in an overheated vehicle. The border crossing to Northern Ireland is seamless. I didn’t even notice a sign. Disembarking at the Belfast Europa Station we stumbled out onto the street and began the 10 minute walk to the Hilton. Well, it would have been 10 minutes had we been going the right direction. Our unplanned tour of the University district was quite nice and once turned around we made it to the waterfront Hilton will little difficulties.

An article about the Merchant Hotel’s Mai Tai L750 (yes, that would be practically $1500 a drink!) appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle a week before our visit. Knowing we were to be there I took it as a sign that we must investigate. The Merchant, built in 1860 as the headquarters of the Ulster Bank, was remodeled three years ago as a luxury hotel. It’s a beautiful property complete with the original opulent ceilings. I could have happily lived there. In addition to being an intimate luxury inn, they have a private club, bar and restaurant; all comfortably stunning and swank. Ensconced in the bar, we ordered the bargain mai tai at L9.95 and got to know the bartender, Hayden. Perched on a high shelf in a wooden box was a bottle of the original 17-year-old J. Wray & Nephew rum that Victor J. "Trader Vic" Bergeron used when he created the drink in 1944.. After some coaxing Hayden, let us have a closer view.

Armed with a recommendations and a referral from Hayden, we wandered over to the Mourne Seafood Bar. They were booked, of course, but we were able to squeeze in after promising to vacate the table promptly in an hour. Mary had oysters and mussels and I enjoyed grilled scallops with saffron linguine. It was good: Very, very, very good! One of the owners is a marine biologist and intimately knows the shellfish. Much of it is farmed locally. Next on our agenda was another Hayden recommendation, Madden’s “a Republican pub that features live music”. We demurred peaking inside to see tables of men nursing their pints but no music until 9 P.M. Nine P.M. was our goal to stay awake.. After travelling throughout the night and struggling with an eight hour time difference any delay was an impossibility.

Awake and somewhat refreshed the next morning we breakfasted at our hotel and meet our Black Taxi driver, Jack, for a political tour of Belfast. The “troubles” were officially over in 1996 but the lingering resentment and division of the Catholic (Irish) an Protestant (British) factions in the area are apparent. Only 8% of the population is integrated which doesn’t make for an understanding and cooperation. Jack took us through neighborhood on both sides of the Peace Fences. I found the name “Peace Fence” somewhat ironic. Does a 20 foot high barbed wire crowned wall say peace to you? There are many murals throughout the area that both memorialize and educate. I was saddened not to see one depicting both sides coming together. Maybe it’s too soon. The history and lingering resentments here are hard to grasp. (I read & recommend Belfast Diary: War as a Way of Life by John Conroy. Though set in the 1980’s, so not exactly current, I felt the book presented the facts and gave insight into the people that lived and breathed Belfast.)

Jack dropped us at the Crown Saloon. The oldest pub in Belfast was packed with rugby players. Across the street sits the Europa Hotel, which he casually informed us was once the most bombed hotel in the world. A dubious distinction!

We couldn’t resist a return to the Merchant for tea before collecting our luggage. We were happy to be greeted by our bus driver of the previous day. The weather had deteriorated and he had his hands full as the boxy vehicle was buffeted by strong winds and heavy rain. There was a brief stop by immigration for a passport check and back to Dublin we went.

Part Two: Dublin, Republic of Ireland

It was late when we arrived at our hotel. Hungry, we were on a mission for dinner. The Pearl Brasserie was recommended by our concierge at the Dublin Conrad for dinner and we were not disappointed.

The next morning was Sunday and things were slow to getting going. Relishing the opportunity to relax and wander about without an agenda we set out. Some shopping, some strolling, some shopping and some gawking about filled our day. Dublin offers many cultural and historic sights but we were content to simply enjoy being in the city. The John M. Keating Restaurant was not even officially open when we stumbled upon the converted church on a previous visit. Check out the picture of the bar from 2006. I couldn’t resist a second look. The fact they were still open was encouraging. Mary & I slipped in for a Guinness and light snack. Also, when visiting Ireland three years ago we happened upon a small leather goods store that had beautiful things. I made a few treasured purchases and was disappointed that I wouldn’t be venturing anywhere close to Kilkenny to make a repeat visit. Imagine my thrill to round a corner and have Mary exclaim “Isn’t that the same store?!?! Yes, it was Chesneau and yes, I bought something.

Wallets depleted, we deserved to sit down for tea so headed to Merrion Hotel for our finale. Tea, shmea! I opted for a touch of the Irish. How could prepare to leave Ireland without partaking of Irish Whiskey?

Our last night was spent at the Hilton Dublin Airport so we were positioned to easily make our way home early in the morning.

Thus ended our Irish whirlwind!

...

I was saddened to hear news reports of sectarian violence in Northern Ireland last week:

From CNN regarding the arrests:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/europe/03/14/northern.ireland.violence.arrests/index.html#cnnSTCText
“They are the first arrests in connection with the March 7 shootings, which were the first fatal attack on British troops in the province for more than 12 years.
The two British soldiers were shot dead at a base in Massereene, in Antrim, as they were preparing to ship out for duty in Afghanistan.
The soldiers, Cengiz "Pat" Azimkar, 21, and Mark Quinsey, 23, had already packed their bags and changed into desert uniforms, authorities said.
Two masked gunmen with automatic rifles shot them as the soldiers picked up a pizza delivery at the barracks, authorities said. Two other soldiers and the two pizza delivery men were seriously wounded.
The shooting has sparked fears of a return to the sectarian violence that Northern Ireland suffered until the Good Friday Agreement of 1998, a period known as The Troubles.
A militant splinter group, the Real IRA, reportedly claimed it had carried out the attack on the soldiers.
Two days after the soldiers were killed, a police officer was killed in a shooting southwest of Belfast. Constable Stephen Carroll was one of four officers who were responding to call in Craigavon when his vehicle came under fire and he was killed. Three people have been arrested in connection with the police officer's death.
The Continuity IRA, a republican splinter group that does not accept the Good Friday Agreement, said it had killed Carroll, Britain's Press Association reported.
Politicians from across the political spectrum have condemned the killings, with Sinn Fein deputy leader Martin McGuinness calling the killers "traitors to the island of Ireland."
Sinn Fein is a predominantly Catholic party that wants Northern Ireland to leave the United Kingdom and become part of the Republic of Ireland. The party is widely thought to be linked to the Irish Republican Army.Danny Kennedy, deputy leader of the loyalist Ulster Unionist Party, which wants Northern Ireland to remain part of the United Kingdom, also condemned the attack as "wicked and murderous."

AMAZON ADVENTURE Part two: Peacock Bass, Caiman & Attempting To Go Home

Last post we left John on a tributary to the Amazon in Brazil. Find the blue arrow on the map to ascertain his whereabouts. He has just begun a week of fishing adventure…

Get started by reading AMAZON ADVENTURE…Part One: Getting there & getting settled.

And it continues…

Monday March 2, 2009
River Xeriuni
Allen and I ran upriver at 7:30 with Hi, so called, and fished sinking line and fly all day. We had periods of good fishing with some slow periods. I caught one fish reeling in the fly as I sometimes do in Frost Slough. The fish were not big, 4# was my largest. One fish looked to be quite large since it grabbed my fly near an open beach and ran parallel to it pushing a lot of water but the hook pulled free when the line reached my reel. It rained a lot. We found camp about eight miles up from where we left it and this time on river right versus river left this morning. We saw several kind of macaw on the trip but not one monkey.

Tuesday March 3, 3009
River Xeriuni
Heavy rain poured about 2:30 AM for about a half hour with thunder and lightning awakening everyone in camp. Allen and I went fishing with guide Marcello and I wanted to try poppers on the peacock bass and they relished them. I caught two fish on sinking fly then about a dozen on a small silver popper until a piranha destroyed it. I used Sage 9.5 foot 8 weight rod with Elkhorn reel and Monic “all weather” blue floating line. I tied on a larger green popper and some larger fish loved it. I took a 5# peacock on it and lots of smaller ones but I broke the fly off on a good size fish. I tried a similar pattern in silver color and caught numerous fish including a 6# peacock but eventually the popper was destroyed by another piranha. Of the forty fish or so that I landed a good three quarters were on popper. Allen preferred sinking line and landed a similar number of fish as me to 8#. Of all fish landed and lost today, double the number simply exploded on the popper. Sometimes one or more fish would blast the offering without getting hooked. I haven’t laughed so much while fishing in a long time. I captured a very good picture of a caiman (jacare) on the beach before it slipped into the water and a not so good picture of a stork (cegonha) after it turned away but before it flew away. They have a scarlet red throat patch that I unfortunately could not capture. Camp was moved up river again about ten miles when we returned at 5:30. Evening was typical with tea colored, river water shower. I was eaten up by no see’ums throughout the trip but used some insect repellent only once. I suspect they got me mostly in the evening while I sat around camp wearing shorts. I wore shorts fishing the last two days only. Mosquitoes were non- existent though there were some stinging bugs but none nailed me. Mac said one got him on his knee and the hurt lasted over five minutes.

Wednesday March 4, 2009
River Xeriuni
It rained again during the night but without the lightning and thunder. Today our guide was Glad or at least that is how they pronounce it. I started with sinking line and caught the first fish with Allen taking one right after me. His next cast put a fish on that went way into his backing. That was a first for both of us. He did a fine job handling the 13# peacock and landed it after about ten minutes. He and I had a similar day as yesterday and I had a ball again on poppers. Our guide insisted I use my largest one that I caught so many queenfish on in Australia. It worked wonderfully though I again missed a lot of strikes but that action is so exciting even without a hookup. In one particular area, Glad insisted I use sinking line and fly because he said we would be casting to big fish. Right he was because Allen and I spent about two hours hooking and releasing fabulous fish mostly from 4 to 6#. There was no rain today but periods of high wind. Though a few areas did not produce fish, there was a good bite most of the day. Camp was not moved today. Dinners are good consisting of local foods including rice, chicken, fish, beef, fruit, ice cream desserts and others. There is an open bar and all the beer anyone wants. We drink a lot of bottled water. Bed for me is consistently between 8:30 and 9 PM and most everyone is put away not much later. Generator is kept on all night to facilitate air conditioning but far enough away to be muffled.

Thursday March 5, 2009
River Xeriuni
I heard no rain during the night and we had none all day. Pat asked Allen and me if we wanted to partake in an adventure he had in mind and we both enthusiastically agreed. Pat had a Google Earth picture of the area on his computer and it showed a large land locked lagoon close by the main river and it looked to be an old river bed. Our guide, Ivo, showed us the “equator tree” where runs the dividing line between northern and southern hemispheres. Naturally, we took a picture. Then we searched for our “lost lagoon” and after a couple of false attempts, found it. Then we had to devise a way to get our boat portaged about 20 yards and we did it with great help from machete wielding Ivo. We left motor, gas, electric motor, and battery on the beach of the main stem and when we reached the lagoon, Ivo paddled us about. We began to catch small peacocks right away and continued to do so the entire morning exploring the new found waterway. Big fish went about four pounds. We looked for another arm of the old channel but could not locate it so portaged back to the main river at 1 PM. Ivo put us on a sand bar where we waded while casting and I managed one peacock. The last two hours of the day we spent in a sort of cul de sac waterway of which there are so many we have fished already. We caught lots of small peacocks but in the last half hour found many in the three to five pound category. I broke one off and Allen broke two off. I managed to land several of these hard, scrappy fighters all on sinking line. I caught two peacocks reeling in including the last fish of the day. Camp had been moved again so we ran upstream and found it river left on a most interesting sand bar of all. Cloudy conditions remained but no rain fell in the evening nor during the night. Wind was gentle unlike yesterday. Dinner tonight included a very delicious piranha soup which was so good that I had a second helping.

Friday March 6, 2009
River Xeriuni
Allen wanted to fish with his friend Mac, so Bill went with me and Hi. We started in an area where Allen and I caught good sized fish with Marcello and I hooked into a nice bass but the hook slipped free. Incredibly, the next three fish I hooked came off. In all, three of the four were in the 4# to 6# class. Bill had no action during this time. It was the same fly I landed several fish on last evening. Suddenly, I began to land a few and in no time I had landed four for eight hooked. We moved to another location and I landed my big fish for the day. Bill had a boga-grip scale and I honestly thought the fish was larger than 5# but those scales are highly accurate. Bill hooked a good fish mid morning and it cleared to the middle of the river and we got to weigh his at 11#. Rain was horrific on and off but mostly on and I learned a trick from Jay to employ an umbrella and I actually caught fish while using that unorthodox method. On one of the non rainy days I saw Jay on another boat with an umbrella up for use as a parasol. I yelled to him that he looked like he was on a lake in Central Park, N Y. Later, he told me he uses it in the rain while fishing, as well. So I took my umbrella out and when the heavens opened up as they can do in the tropics and dumped visibility impairing amounts of rain in torrents. I hurriedly put on a rain jacket then grabbed my umbrella and after deploying it, put the handle in my left breast shirt pocket. This freed my hands to continue fly casting and I actually caught a couple of fish while staying somewhat dry but more importantly, not being pounded by the downpour. With no wind, the system worked quite well. If there were wind, well, Mary Poppins can tell you about that.

During periods of no rain we caught fish on a rhythm of almost every cast. There was a caiman that was particularly pesky swimming to our hooked fish but not eating them except for one that Hi tossed to it. It followed us for the longest way downstream. Toward the end of the day I decided to use a popper fly. I caught a few small bass and had some hits and swirls but one of the most memorable fishing events of my life quickly ensued. I cast the popper and gave it one pop when the most incredible explosion came upon it with a huge fish clearing the water on the take. My line zinged up to the reel in a flash when the fish bolted for cover in a nearby tunnel like jungle, infested with trees and brambles and broke me off in the tangle. The three of us were awestruck and Bill, like me, said he had never witnessed a fish explode on a fly with such ferocity. It was, by far, the most exciting moment of this fishing excursion and my only encounter with a peacock over 10#. We finished the day each catching a few more fish. Rain continued sporadically through the evening. By the way, all fish counts listed in my “tropic records” are approximate but actually on the conservative side. Also, many other species were caught that I did not post. I consider them by-catch and though fun, not our target species. Besides, I cannot remember the Portuguese names of these many fish our guides tell us. Even the ones listed were caught in more numerous numbers than mentioned.

Saturday March 7, 2009
River Xeriuni
Allen and I were back together for our last day and it started out slow fishing. He caught the first one and several more before I got my first. It was fairly equal thereafter through noon but fish were small to 2#. Marcello took us on a short walk to another land locked lagoon where we cast from a beach. I caught three small peacocks including one while reeling in. We motored in to a large lagoon and Marcello indicated if any fish could be located here, they would be large. We found none. We had no rain until 2 PM and then just a short heavy shower. We left camp this morning heading downstream and camp was moved down later. We went a long way down and actually saw a house on river right when we turned to come back. I caught an odd peacock that Pat identified for me later from my picture as a temensis that weighed about 4#. It came to a fly given me by Jay which was destroyed by a piranha fly later. I switched to blue popper the rest of the day and Allen stopped catching fish for whatever reason. My last of the day was a 5# peacock to end the poorest catch for us in one day for the week but we had a grand time nonetheless. I truly enjoyed everyone’s company on this trip and particularly Allen. We sat outside swapping fishing reports for the week both before and after dinner. Ivo brought me a peixe-boi (manatee) carving that he made. He also gave one to Allen and a smaller version each to Jack and Jay.

Sunday March 8, 2009
River Xeriuni to Manaus
Everyone was up at the regular time of 6 AM, packed, fed, and ready to go by 8 AM awaiting arrival of the float plane in another forty-five minutes. A tremendous rain storm descended so we huddled in the dining tent. Four played cribbage, I read and wrote this while others sat around with long faces. Ivo brought us his hand made necklaces for sale at $5 each and we bought him out. We waited and waited and waited. Rain quit at 11 AM and Allen said if we would take off by 11:30 we would make our connection. We waited some more.

The plane buzzed overhead at 1:30, landed downstream, and who emerged but my friend Bob who introduced me to his friend Jerry who will join us in Australia in September. The flight to Manaus took us an hour and three quarters effectively preventing Allen and me from making our 3:10 connection. Brahma met us and helped us secure a flight for tomorrow. Goodbye to Ed & Jeremy who were going to wait at the airport for their 12:30 AM flight to Atlanta that the other fellows were to fly as well. Allen and I checked into room 2225 while the other four checked into rooms near us. We met at the lobby bar for dinner and I enjoyed catfish with hearts of palm, other good vegetables, and plantains. I called Elaine to tell her of the delay and left a message. Goodbye to newfound friends when we retired to our rooms at 7 PM.

Monday March 9, 2009
Manaus to Miami
A bit of tummy problem has bothered me the past couple of days and continues this morning. I was up at 6:15, showered, shaved, and slipped out to the pool to continue reading silly Bryson. It began to rain so I returned to the room but Allen was still sleeping so I took a couch outside our room until he emerged at 7:30. We ate breakfast together and returned to our room with hours to fill: packing, reading, whatever. I took Bryson to the pool area to polish him off. There were a lot more people there at 8:30 than at 6:30, 300% more. One was sweeping the pool, one was sweeping leaves from around the pool, and one was putting out and arranging chairs. I finished my book a little before 9 AM and a good thing too because the humidity was getting to the point of oppressive. With changed and missed flights on both ends of this trip, with rain and humidity, with no other book to read, I must admit I am homesick. I don’t believe I have suffered the malady ever on a fishing trip but I do so want to go home from this one. The fishing was good, the locals are friendly, the companions were fun, but the getting to and fro was bothersome and extra expensive. I wandered through the zoo a last time feeling trapped like the animals. O K, that is a bit melodramatic but with time on my hands I tend to exaggerate, all in good fun. Now it is 10:30, what to do, what to do? I amused myself further by reviewing the week’s pictures. I caught but one temensis peacock for the trip. At least I only have a picture of one and on the last day. Noon finally arrived and Brahma whisked (he actually drives like a maniac) Allen and me to the aeroporto, helped us with our luggage, and walked us in. He was a terrific help throughout and we tipped him accordingly. After checking in, we wandered through a few shops then through security. For the second time in my life, they disallowed my three piece rods as carry on. The first time was Sydney to Tokyo in 2007. Immigration was not a problem nor was boarding the plane. Allen and I were separated by two rows and on opposite sides of the plane. I had an excellent view of Manaus and the grand river as we swung around the city to head north. There is a bridge under construction to span the mighty stream. The five hour trip was pleasant with only about one-third full so there was plenty of room for everyone to stretch. Surprisingly, there was no time change upon reaching Miami which I don’t understand because there was a one hour change heading south a week ago. Has DST started already? Customs and immigration were a super breeze but I had to wait extra time for my rod case. Allen and I wished each other a hearty goodbye with promises to exchange pictures. I waited a half hour for Hampton Inn shuttle van, then called, then waited another half hour. Room 617 was comfortable and I talked to Elaine for nearly an hour. Checking e mail, I had 64 messages to wade through and I answered several taking me until 12:30 AM.



Tuesday March 10, 2009
Miami to SFO via Dallas
I slept fitfully until 6:30 but bounced up to start my final travel day this trip. I checked out of the hotel at 8 AM, checked in with American Airlines, and bided my time in Admiral’s Club until my 10:40 departure time. Elaine had changed hotel and flight arrangements for me and wonderful as she is, had me upgraded to first class. Except for the horrendous increases in costs for this trip, it was really enjoyable and I feel I handled the stress of delays and layovers quite well. That is particularly true compared to my attitude before I met a person who is as close to a professional traveler as anyone I ever met and who handles the vicissitudes of travel so expertly. There is nothing like learning control from an expert. Thank you, Elaine. I talked to Steve in the office and to Elaine on her way to the office and all sounded well. Flight left on time and I got a good look at Miami as we swung wide over Key Biscayne. We were bound for Dallas with continuing service to San Francisco. I stayed aboard the aircraft while a new crew boarded followed by passengers. The turnaround was an hour and a half and we were airborne at 2 PM. Since I have no book to read and I already exhausted all magazines at my disposal, I decided to watch the movie offered by AA. I enjoyed very much The Express starring Rob Brown and Dennis Quaid in the story of Ernie Davis, football player for Syracuse University in the early 1960’s and winner of the coveted Heisman trophy. The movie ended an hour before touchdown, pun intended, and again, I cannot remember ever being so anxious to get home. Hello Elaine, kitty Rusalka, San Francisco, and the land and all the people I love. Oh, and the Jo-Fran, too.

AMAZON ADVENTURE Part one: Getting there & getting settled

The following is my husband’s log of his recent fishing trip to the Brazilian Amazon which he has graciously agreed to share. I jealously bid him bon voyage acknowledging that it just didn’t make sense for me to travel to Brazil as well. My only Brazilian experience was in November 2007 for a long weekend to Rio de Janeiro. (see picture of me in a downpour) I would return in a heartbeat and am anxious to explore more of the country. Soon…soon…I hope.

Here’s part one of John’s report:

Brazil 2009
Pre Trip Notes:
An e mail followed by a phone call on January 5 told me our trip scheduled for January 9 -19 was cancelled due to flooding in the Amazon basin. Following the weather, I stayed in touch with him the rest of the month and learned there were openings the first two weeks of March and that the water was dropping. Elaine and Tweedsmuir Travel Co. changed airline arrangements at added expense. I opted for the first week of March to facilitate my Brazilian visa which would expire on March 8. Because the Brazilian airline, TAM, flight was fully booked on the day I wanted to travel, I needed to fly a day early thereby necessitating an additional night at the top end and expensive Tropical Hotel. I confirmed all arrangements with everyone involved the day before I left for Miami.


Friday February 27, 2009
Miami to Manaus
I took the 5 AM shuttle to the airport from the Hampton Inn and had no trouble checking in for the 7 AM TAM flight that left on time. Coach cabin was full and the seats very cramped and it was odd to see first class practically empty. I had no chance for that cushy cabin because American Airlines is not a code-share with TAM. I enjoyed talking with a fellow from Hilton Head, SC on his way to fish peacock bass at Agua Boa. I wondered if he and his friends were fly fishers and though did not ask suspected they were not. Customs and immigration was not a problem and I was met by Brahma, originally from Trinidad & Tobago, who whisked me to Tropical Manaus Hotel room 1434. I walked the grounds and along the Rio Negro River before returning to the room. A nap from 4:30 – 6 PM was much needed. I enjoyed a Skol cerveja from the mini bar but could not translate Desce Redondo on the label due to my lack of Portuguese language skill. The main dining room called Karu looked too formal for me alone so I dined at the Brasil Café within the hotel and enjoyed pirarucu fish entrée. Sombremesa (aka postre aka dessert) was tropical and over the top and filling. I drifted off to sleep after reading a bit of Bill Bryson’s The Lost Continent, my read for the week.

Saturday February 28, 2009
Manaus, Brazil
I slept in until nearly 8 AM and headed for the hotel coffee shop. It, too, looked too formal so I went to the lobby bar for my morning coffee. I ordered a regular size coffee but was served an espresso. My lack of Portuguesa language skill strikes again. Now that I was jolted awake, I had a regular coffee then headed for another walk along the river. There was not the stiff breeze that I experienced the afternoon before and the humidity was thick. Brahma called me in my room at 10:30 to say the other fellows arrived during the night and were going on a city tour at 11 AM. First person I met was Pat, brother of Jeff whom I fished with in Venezuela in December 2007. Pat is heading our group to River Xeriuni. Next was Mac from Sacramento, then Jay from Seattle. We walked to the lobby and I met Mac’s roommate Bill, also from Sacramento. Jack was next due a handshake and he hails from Pinole, CA and is a friend of Jay.

The seven of us took a van to Manaus and first saw the banana mart followed by the fish and meat market. The fish and meat market are next to each other with fish market closest to river front. There are rows upon rows, stall like with individual vendors displaying the fresh fish. There are more varieties of fresh water fish caught and sold from the Amazon than all fish found in the Atlantic Ocean I was told but find hard to believe. The market displayed incredible varieties of fish for sale and I took pictures of many. Most fish were whole but some filleted. There was NOT a strong fishy smell nor were there many flies. Every vendor had a machete type knife and some smaller knives but I saw not one thin bladed flexible filet knife as I know them. Still, the fish mongers filleted their fish with the implements they had. I took several pictures of fish but there were literally hundreds of varieties. There was plenty of running water (how clean?) to flush the marble and/or stone counters where they worked and displayed the fish. The flushings ran off the counters into a trough on either side of the aisles where the patrons walked, looking to see what they might buy. Water resistant shoes would be handy. The place was very busy and we stood out as obvious tourists but we saw others as well. We ventured just briefly into the adjoining meat market where every type of meat was on display including organ meats. The operation looked clean and I would have made a purchase given the need not fearful of diseased goods. But then I am a trusting sort. Two blocks away was the banana market where a huge variety of bananas were for sale from bunches to a few. Plantains were prevalent but so were types of every size and color one could imagine. I saw this in the Philippines but nowhere else. Nearby was a covered mart selling trinkets and souvenirs from stuffed tropical fish, to Indian made goods including blow darts and headdresses, clothing, and all the goods one associates with special off the beaten path places like the Amazon.

Next on our agenda was the 1896 Teatro Amazonas (Opera House) for a guided tour. The European rubber barons of the era had to have their culture and so built an opulent structure. Our excellent guide, Sue Ellen, divided her time between Portuguese speaking folk and us. Her English was impeccable. Unfortunately (for me), flash photos are not allowed so what I took are rather dismal.

When we returned I met Allen just in from Miami, who hails from western Massachusetts (Pittsville) and I moved into room 1506 with him. I toured the zoo compound at the hotel while he rested and saw many Amazonian animals as chronicled in my photos. I went back to see the jaguar and ocelet at 6 PM when they were prancing about but did not want to disturb them with flash photo. I met father and son Ed and Jeremy from Pennsylvania and the bunch of us piled into Brahma’s van for a drive to Bufalo, our dining establishment. I was introduced to the Brazilian national drink of caipirinha made with cachaca, a high-proof sugarcane alcohol and served with lots of squeezed lime, then ate a wonderful meal of garlic prawns, sushi, salad, various meats brought to the table ala Carnivore restaurant that Elaine and I partook of in Nairobi three years ago. Actually, the meat in Argentina is far and away superior to either of these two places. Mac, Jay, and I shared two bottles of Malbec wine. We were all tucked away by 10 PM in anticipation of our adventure that starts tomorrow.

Sunday March 1, 2009
Manaus to River Xeriuni via Barcelos
Brahma awakened everyone at 5 AM via telephone and we left for the airport after breakfast. Flight was delayed due to fog but we were airborne at 8:30. Flying over the Rio Negro and over the jungle was very interesting and I took many a picture with fairly clear view below the wing of the float plane with wheels. Pat took a commercial flight to Barcelos where we picked him up. (see map for location) We arrived at our destination at 10 AM and landed just downstream in the river from camp. We circled over the camp in float plane prior to landing just downstream and out of sight. 30 hp powered boats about 20 ft long brought outgoing guests and luggage to plane and took us (nine in all) and our luggage to the camp. When we approached I first saw a small (about 30') tug like looking boat that I later learned was a supply boat and was only there for a short while. Next was a barge type small (about 20') boat covered with a tarp over the huge diesel generator than supplied the entire camp with electricity @ 110 volts suitable for our computers and camera batteries. Next was the cooking cabin then the dining cabin. These were slightly larger than the live-in cabins. All are on pontoons and are just slightly beached onto the sand but for the most part are floating in the river. The sleeping cabins accommodated two people each with pumped river water for basin and shower. Each cabin had a toilet that was self contained with holding tank between the pontoons. Each two people had at their disposal a guide with aforementioned boats and motors. There was one other bigger boat with 70 hp motor used to move the entire flotilla up or down the river as desired to another white sand beach.

We settled in, ate lunch, and went fishing. Toothless Ivo (64 yrs old) took us downstream at 11:30 and we began catching tucunare (peacock bass) right away. Most were small and I doubt if any of mine were over three pounds. All were on intermediate orange line with Elkhorn rod and S A #2 reel. This is the same outfit I use for striped bass at home. It was one of two outfits I used all week.

We quit at 5 PM which would be typical for the week. Edson was our server at all meals. There were two women in camp plus a boss man whom we never met and a very shy five year old boy. A huge generator, at the far end of camp kept us comfortable all night supplying electricity for A/C. It also afforded me to keep my computer operating and my camera battery charged. I used both every day. A/C ran all night and lights were available as well. The staff had tents for sleeping and two wooden canoes for fishing on their own. All spoke Portuguese and little though some English. All were very accommodating and seemingly very happy and certainly very friendly. They did, however, keep to themselves when not guiding or serving us. Meals were served by one person. The men played soccer on the beach in the evenings after guiding we fisher folk all day 7:30 AM until 5 PM. Mosquitoes are unknown on these dark, acidic waters but no see'ums more than make up for them and bite as voraciously if not more. There were a few stinging insects, as well. We saw caimans during the day away from camp but saw no snakes, cougars, or any worrisome animals while in camp. The sand beaches are very white, fine grain, and clean. The birds at dawn and dust were raucous but we saw and heard no monkeys. It rained a lot and very hard at times both night and day. The cabins remained dry inside but the humidity is another force to be reckoned with at 90% most of the time. It was never uncomfortably hot but the sun was intense and skin burned easily and rapidly without blocking protection. All in all, camp was very comfortable and local foods of fresh fish, meats and vegetables supplied from Manaus, plenty of bottled water, sodas, good coffee and tea if desired, candied sweets and freshly made breads, cookies, and cakes were all it took to stay healthy and well fed.

to be continued...

Links and Gadgets

If all goes as scheduled, I’ve finally got it right and am sitting on a Florida bound plane when this posts. No more parkas for me!

I recommend Rick Seaney’s advice on FareCompare about the best time to shop airfares. He says Tuesday afternoon and I can vouch that some truly great deals can appear. Try it yourself!

Also, you may notice that I’ve added a Traveler’s Tip gadget at the bottom of the page. Just scroll down or go to end of document to enter an airport code. I’ve playing with this for a couple of weeks. Let me know if you find it useful, or annoying or are really apathetic one way or the other. Incidentally, the advertising is tied to the gadget, it’s not a revenue source for me. I am exploring adding advertising to this blog in the future.

Finally, I’ve added a FeedBurner link for you to subscribe to emails of my posts. It’s in the right-hand column about half way down and is simple. You can still easily subscribe to RSS or Atom feeds, if that’s your preference.

77 degrees here I come! Only 2401 miles to go…

Washington Redux: Snowy Spokane

I visit family in eastern Washington a few times a year. Sometimes the weather is beautiful and my days are spent gardening and picnicking and then there are the other times. Spokane has received a record amount of snow in the last two years. In January 2008 my car was snowed in on the street for much of my stay so I decided to delay my winter visit to March to avoid a similar situation. Smart, very smart. The Spokane Spokesman Review reported “ The winter of 2008-’09 saw about twice the normal seasonal snowfall, which fell in a matter of about three to four weeks. Even if we don’t see any additional snow for the rest of the season, the winters of 2007-’08 and 2008-’09 will be the snowiest combined back-to-back winters in recorded history.” Though there was still significant snow on the ground and snowflakes fell during my visit, spring is lurking around the corner, they deserve it! My 95 year old grandmother takes it all in stride.

In September 2008 my Spokane visit brought me to Green Bluff. Things are rather slow up there in March with all farm stands boarded up for winter. When I called Walter’s Apple Ranch I was saddened to learn that they suffered severe snow damage and were working on rebuilding a collapsed porch to be ready and open in May.

A happy discovery was McGlade’s, formerly a rather rickety stand with out of this world pies which has been rebuilt and is now comfortable restaurant and winebar. We had a burger near the fireplace on a Saturday afternoon and the place was packed.

A Spokane tradition for me is catching a movie with my cousin, Mike. Over the years we have seen cinematic fodder as diverse as Shrek and Bottle Shock. This time we plunked down the $9.25 each for The International. Not bad, but not that great either, at least Clive Owen was no chore to watch for 2 hours. The not so far fetched concept of a corrupt bank conspiring to rule the world gave us something to dissect, which really was the goal.

I usually stay in the basement guest room at my grandmothers. It’s comfortable and convenient but the place to stay in Spokane is the Davenport Hotel. This elegant grand dame was opened in 1914 but fell into great disrepair towards the end of the century. “A demolition crew determined the entire block could be dropped in 20 seconds but the nightmare of airborne asbestos saved it from implosion. Dismantling and salvage was determined to be too expensive so the hotel remained closed for 15 years.” Dodging the demolition bullet the property was remodeled and reopened in 2004 in all its former glory. It’s my favorite place to visit and use their wifi connection in the lobby. There are many comfortable places to sit and you can enjoy a cup of tea or a glass of wine and frequently listen to a piano player. Their spa tempts me every time. Maybe someday…

Melanie Jones of the Columbia Spectator listed Sherman Alexie’s The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, “a portrait of life on the Spokane Indian Reservation in Washington, as either a novel or a short story collection. The twenty-two vignettes are at once independent stories and one affecting narrative”. I’ve requested it from the library and am looking forward to adding this selection to my 50 States for 08 book list.

Interesting tidbits from State by State: A Panoramic Portrait of America : Washington ranks first in population claiming no religion (25% ). They also have the top breastfeeding rate (88% shared with neighboring Montana and Oregon).

Hopefully the apricot tree will be looking a little better by my next visit.

Let Them Eat Cake!

I was researching Viennese pastry shops for my upcoming visit to Austria and came across this historical morsel:

March 9th is the anniversary of the End of Guerra De los Pasteles (Pastry War) in Mexico in 1939.
In 1928, war began when a French pastry chef claimed that Mexican soldiers damaged his shop in Mexico City. Within weeks, the French government, claiming French citizens had lost property in Mexico since the country gained independence, demanded 600,000 pesos in recompense. This was a tremendous sum because wages averaged about 1 peso per day. After a decade of escalation and stand-offs, Mexico paid 600,000 pesos to the chef, and France withdrew.

Makes me crave a sachertorte! (I know, I know, my geographical and historical references are a bit skewed, but I’m right on with the pastries!)

Saber Toothed Tigers at Every Turn

Travel is exactly like real life. Occasionally it’s exotic and adventurous and filled new experiences and sunshine and cocktails festooned with frilly umbrellas and tropical fruit and sometimes it’s simply frustrating and you’ve forgot to pack some Advil for that throbbing tension headache. But most of the time travel is peppered with small hassles and salty language balanced with small triumphs and amusing chuckle inducing moments that all ultimately works out just fine. The remote possibility that one’s flight may land in the Hudson keeps one attuned to those safety announcements and adds that element of risk we all need. Really now, we’ve evolved from the threat of being eaten by a saber-toothed tigers but we’re still teetering on the brink.

A trip to Chicago in late February is not ideal. Residents are weary of winter, the grimy accumulation of roadside ice does not bring to mind Norman Rockwell-esque winter wonderland scenes. I was in luck. I emerged from the O’Hare dungeon to temperatures about 50. Ice was still visible but also apparent was the optimism that spring was flirting with us from just around the corner. People were emerging from their cocoons of heavy coats, scarf and mittens. Never one to be content to watch from the sidelines I felt the irresistible urge to join the joggers, stroller-pushing moms, tennis-ball toting dogs straining at the leash, and cane-wielding, stooped old men shuffling along. Yes! I would emerge from the C.T.A. before my designated stop and walk! Woo hoo! How great! I could practically feel my toes wriggle in the freshly mown lawns of summer. I might even have heard the frostbitten birds chirping had I not been plugged in to Party Killers of the Seventies. I marched along, dragging my roll-aboard like a reluctant toddler, dodging mud and ice and detritus with grace. Until…(you knew this was coming, didn’t you) I was stopped short by a detour sign. The Chicago Street bridge was my saber-toothed tiger. It loomed before me like an open jawed dragon in a ring of orange cones. I had options. I could retreat the ½ mile to my C.T.A. stop, I could venture south into uncharted territory or I could follow the vehicular detour to the north.

After a moment I chose north… My odyssey continued… I am firmly of the opinion that where you go, move with purpose. I may be lost; I might have unwittingly stepped in the middle of a battle between 6-shooter toting, sharpshooting cowboys; sidewalks may diminish to single-track rutted rivulets of mud. None of that matters, I just keep moving as if I had planned it this way and I’m certain I will emerge unscathed. When I encountered mud puddles that needed a ferry crossing (or a row boat at the very least) I fantasized about a chivalrous passerby cast down an XXXXXXL raincoat with floatation for me to step upon. My suitcase has accompanied me to six continents (Antarctica eludes) and I didn’t relish the thought of losing it in a deep water channel of thawing muck. Trudging on, I hefted my bag and made my way. It wasn’t all that bad. Until (yes, it’s another until) the block ahead was filled with emergency vehicles and flashing lights. A handsome unsympathetic fire suit clad man pointed me on yet another circuitous detour delaying me further, but hey, at least I was getting my exercise.

Eventually I made it too my destination unscathed. When I relay my route it was received with alarmed raised eyebrows. “You walked there?!?”

My return was equally inauspicious. March had roared in like a lion and I slogged through heavily snow to the closer C.T.A. stop. Shivering, I waited for the train with snow clinging to my bag and pant legs to the extent that I was beginning take on abominable snowman attributes. On the train I distracted myself as I was melting into a soggy mess with The Captain and Tennille. Love, love with keep us together… good stuff!

At the airport, TSA was suspicious of my bag. This is not unusual, that umbrella I stow in the outside pocket might be an automatic weapon, or poisonous dart launcher or, in a much less James Bond world, might just be an umbrella. As I slipped back into my shoes I pointed out the umbrella to the rubber glove clad agent. No, she shook her head, and proceeded to unzip the bag. Aha! I was carrying a board game: Foodie Fight - Definitely a suspicious object. They x-rayed the game separately and wiped it down for explosives so now we all can feel safer. If only she could offer an explanation for that Blackalicious Diet Coke commercial question that stumped me. The above reference to my iPod playlist could offer some insight on my inability to answer that question. Cleared of any wrong-doing this time, I went on to catch my flight home where my non-saber-toothed kitty awaits.