The Plunge Down Under

Back to the Everyday

We have been back in Australia for just over two weeks, and I am happy to report that tonight I should finally be able to stay awake past 8pm.  There is no circumventing jet lag, which for me seems to last about two weeks no matter what I try to do to alleviate its affects.  Each morning I feel invincible, confident that I am back to normal.  By 3pm I have long since admitted this is not the case, that I cannot declare myself adjusted just yet, and by 7:30pm I have hit the wall and can think about nothing other than crawling into bed.

It doesn't help to return to dark winter days, of course, nor to have to hit the ground running with a full school schedule on top of the mountains of laundry, grocery shopping, and unpacking.  All that shopping seemed to be a good idea when we were in America, the land of cheap goods, but by the time it is all put away I have vowed to never again return home with more than one suitcase per person. 

There have been a few bright spots, however, in the midst of the mundane details of ordinary life.  For this post I share with you some of the happy as well as some of the more everyday moments captured on my iphone.

Grocery shopping . . . not my favorite chore by a long shot but made slightly more interesting by the products on display in preparation for the Olympic games:

Construction work, at our front door to greet us on our return, and with the added benefit of causing extra housework in the form of dust, dirt and grime:

My laundry room, below, which on this day felt overwhelming.  I remembered an audio book recommendation, however, and within short order had Alan Paton's 1949 novel Cry the Beloved Country playing to help me tackle the many tasks on my to do list. (I'll put in a plug for this book, which I have since finished.  Listening to it was pure pleasure.  The beautiful prose and haunting images transported me for eight days to another time and place.  At times it made my heart ache and at other times sing.  What's a bit of laundry in comparison?).

Homework . . . which for Sophie has meant the need to learn her times tables.  This has not been an easy task for her, and has caused more than one bout of tearful frustration.

Somehow I captured her in a rare smiling moment:

Walking . . . It has been good to exercise regularly again, and the remaining photos are taken from my daily walks.

I don't have photos of many of my favorite moments.  Cups of tea and coffee over fireside chats with friends, tucking the younger ones into bed at night, voices blended together in harmony on Sundays, with those whom we have come to love as our Australian family, and knowing deep within that for now, we are where we are meant to be.

 

Post Cards from North America: Sweet Ohio Ending

Considering I was in Ohio for just over twenty-four hours, I managed to consume a record amount of sugar.  Tim Tam Slams, Coconut Cream Pie from Amish Country, my mom's famous Blueberry Buckle, Sweet Frog Frozen Yogurt . . . It was a very busy day and a half indeed.  Perhaps subconciously we were trying to counteract the pain of saying good-bye.  Whatever the reason, we enjoyed the fun, and the sugar, while it lasted.

Don't miss my niece's pretty finger nails, nor her total absorption in savoring her treat.

Tim Tam consumed, she moved on to blowing bubbles.  Impressive for a one-year-old I think, and too sweet for words.

Her big sister and cousin were close by.  They are pretty cute too, but she stole the show.

Following a tradition that began last year, we drove down through Amish country that evening to a favorite restaurant of my parents, Der Dutchman.  Gillian has been talking about their coconut cream pie ever since her first mouthful last August.

We didn't take a buggy ride, but to the delight of all, we encountered many of them on the road. Sophie proclaimed this brief visit to Amish country one of her favorite parts of our entire trip.  She was joined by a friend who had driven with her mom all the way from Pittsburgh so the two girls could spend some time together.

The drive home on this beautiful summer evening was one to treasure.

I have no pictures of the blueberry buckle served with fresh fruit and eggs for breakfast the next morning.  It was devoured before I could find my camera.  My mom has been making it every summer for as long as I can remember, and it is now a favorite of my children.

(In case you are wondering, I found this description of blueberry buckle online: a buckle is an old-fashioned, single-layer cake with a streusel-type topping. The batter is quite dense. As the cake bakes, the batter sinks to the bottom of the pan, which makes the streusel buckle on top.)

Two painful hours of packing followed the delicious breakfast, and after a quick lunch of corn on the cob, we headed to a frozen yogurt shop that has taken the city of Stow, Ohio by storm.  Opened by my brother and sister--in-law along with two friends of theirs just a few weeks ago, Sweet Frog has been more popular than they ever could have imagined.  Lines stretch out the door every evening, and after sampling a few of the flavors on offer, I can see why.

First you fill a bowl with whatever combination of flavors sounds good to you, and then you head to the dozens of toppings on offer to round it out.

James chose raspberry pomegranate, chocolate peanut butter, and banana to which he added Reese's pieces, skittles, and mango poppers.  Not what I would have chosen exactly, but he enjoyed it.

I found the raspberry pomegranate and original tart mixed with pieces of fresh fruit to the be perfect thing for a hot summer afternoon.  Saying our good-byes afterward was not nearly so pleasant, but it had to be done.  Within two hours we were unloading a big pile suitcases at the Cleveland airport where the check-in went more smoothly than I can ever remember.  

That nearly made up for the three hour delay on the tarmac much later that night, from 1am to 4am to be precise, during which time we waited and waited for our dinner to be served and then gave up and one by one fell into restless slumber.  The friendly and helpful flight attendants took pity on us, however, when we woke up, and did what they could to keep us from going hungry.  They made several fresh pots of coffee for me, and I believe I consumed a record number of 7 or 8 cups before it was finally time for breakfast.  Breakfast, by the way, was not served until about nine hours after James and I woke up, but he behaved very well, earning several compliments from the hard-working attendants who were also of course inconvenienced by the delay.  I thought, but didn't tell them, "If only you could have seen him when we landed in Pittsburgh, you might not be speaking so kindly about him."

It was on the next flight, the final leg of our journey, from Sydney to Melbourne, when we had been traveling for over thirty hours, that he managed to knock over a full glass of orange juice on top of my open handbag, which contained, unfortunately, the passports, my laptop, and my phone among many other things.  The sound on the phone is now very inconsistent, but that seems to be the worst of the damage.  I suppose incidents such as these are to be expected when flying to the other side of the world with a five-year-old.  Overall the trip went smoothly, and I will close with my usual expression of gratitude for both our protection while traveling and for this opportunity to spend time with those we love.

 

Post Cards From North America: First Day in the Big Apple

Slanting rays of the winter sun, woolen layers, cups of hot tea, hectic school mornings, and the wind whistling through the empty branches are all conspiring to make our summer interlude in North America seem like a distant memory.  There is great comfort in being back home again, however, in spite of the weather.  Orderly routine is a friend of mine, although I must say that I am enjoying playing around with my photos from the last four weeks and recording some of my favorite memories.  For this post, I return to my first day in New York.  I put up some of these photos earlier, but the text in the following post is new.

This first day began all too early when I woke up at 3:54am, one minute before my alarm was due to go off.  I had absolutely no trouble getting up as I was quite excited for this trip, but I must say that when I wheeled my suitcase outside, the stifling air just about knocked me back into the house.  I have never felt air like that before in Michigan, and was worried it would follow me to New York.  Fortunately the apocalypse that the media had predicted for the Big Apple failed to materialize, and within hours things had cooled down in Michigan as well.

The drive to the Grand Rapids airport was uneventful, and little interesting occurred until I found myself emerging from the Lincoln Tunnel in Manhattan itself on 42nd Street.  The cab driver had me at the hotel door within very short order, where I surprised Gillian by arriving early.  She was completely prepared, however, and greeted me with coffee, fresh fruit, pastries, and a yogurt parfait, thus fulfilling her promise to fully take care of this newbie to NYC.  Once she was certain I had eaten a sufficient amount to keep me going, we took a walk on Fifth Avenue. 

From Fifth Avenue we made our way to the landmark Grand Central Terminal, where Gillian had made reservations for lunch at an Italian restaurant overlooking the main hall.  We enjoyed the view of the lovely Beaux Arts interior of this magnificent building.  People watching was quite entertaining as well.

I very much regret not taking my camera along with me on the first day.  My iphone had to fill in as substitute.

As I mentioned, the lunch was most enjoyable, the day a complete success thus far when things nearly threatened to take a turn for the worse.  As she pulled out her trusty guidebook and map from her clutch to plan our next move, Gillian somehow managed to send her credit card, metro card, hotel key card, and her driver's license over the side of the table.  We are not sure how long it was before she noticed, but the credit card ended up down below on the floor of the very busy terminal.  Miraculously no one picked it up. As soon as we noticed it was missing, I raced down the steps to retrieve it while Gillian remained guarding from above, using her voice when necessary to protect it.  Fortunately it stayed put.

I must confess that I savored this moment a bit, because normally I am the one losing things. In fact Ross had given Gillian instructions to make sure that I did not lose my passport, money and other important documents during my stay in New York.  I will never live down an incident that occurred well over twenty years ago in which I found myself stranded in Miami en route to Ecuador with a stolen passport.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent shopping, primarily for other people, although thanks to Gillian's sleuthing ahead of time, I found a couple of things on sale.  I am sure we visited the Nike Store, possibly more than once, and Gillian had special business to conduct at Tiffany's on behalf of a friend.  I enjoyed looking at Tiffany's, but since I can't even hold on to a pair of cheap earrings for longer than a month or so, instantly recognized that this was not a store for me.

All that shopping required a visit to the Plaza Food Hall, where the choices were overwhelming. We settled on two slices of cake with coffee.

Later that evening we emerged from our hotel with the goal of finding a beautiful evening view of the city.  As it turned out, we needed to go no further than our front door.  The light of the setting sun was spectacular, and stopped nearly everyone around us in their tracks.  We had been running around all day at a frenetic pace, desperately trying to tick off the items on our to-do list, but at this moment we stopped, took a deep breath, and just enjoyed the moment.  Eventually I had a go at capturing the sunset on camera, but not surprisingly, the results are disappointing compared to what we witnessed at the time.

This little interlude with the sunset set the tone for the remainder of our stay in New York.  We determined to be on the lookout for the unexpected moments, in spite of our meticulously planned itinerary, and to savor each moment as long as possible. We moved on from the sunset eventually, and did discover a little quiet perch from which to enjoy the last hour of daylight over what Gillian has dubbed "the orderly chaos of Manhattan."

On a final note I would like to express my thanks once again to two special people who made this trip possible.  Firstly, to my mom, who willingly took care of my children and provided them with wonderful experiences while I was away.  How she managed to make homemade applesauce and cinnamon rolls with them, take them swimming, tubing, and boating, all the while maintaining her normal responsibilities, I am not entirely sure.  I could not have asked for a better caregiver.

Secondly, to Gillian, for the contribution of both photos and text for this post, but even more, for the hours of research that she poured into planning this trip.  Her contagious enthusiasm helped to make my first visit to NYC a complete success.  I could not have asked for a better tour guide with whom to enjoy it all. For both of them I remain enormously grateful.

 

Post Cards from NYC: Gillian Has a Word (or Two or Three)

It has always been my wish to celebrate my birthday on the fourth of July in America.  I therefore woke up on the first day totally excited to participate in the red, white, and blue festivities of this special day in the U.S.  I had woken up earlier than expected, and after face timing with my family back home, I ventured out at 7am.  I was greeted somewhat unexpectedly with a rainy day.  I had thought about packing an umbrella, but was sure I wouldn't need it.  This was New York City after all, not Melbourne. Ironically, my first purchase in the U.S. was a cheap umbrella.

My first port of call was the Rockefeller Center.  As an avid 30 Rock fan, with six seasons of viewing under my belt, I wanted to put it all into context.  When I was there last twenty years ago in November, there was an ice skating rink and Christmas tree in the plaza.  This time around they had it decorated for my birthday.  Even the wet weather could not dampen my spirits.

The streets were deserted apart from a large group of dedicated Today Show viewers hoping to be filmed for that morning's show.  I stopped for five seconds to watch them, but then realized I was starving.

My initial plan for this first day was to shop at Woodbury Common, but I found that I simply could not leave Manhattan.  I therefore headed to Little Italy for my first visit to the famous French boulangerie, Balthazar.

I had a great cup of coffee, and made a mental note that I was going to bring Christie back there.  This proved to me how important it was to research destinations thoroughly, particularly where to eat. This is my Italian heritage coming out in me, and I am proud to report that apart from one dodgy hot dog consumed on the ferry to Ellis Island, we ate very well for the duration of our visit.

Breakfast consumed, I consulted my guidebook and realized that I was quite close to the Brooklyn Bridge.  Happily the rain had subsided, so I determined to walk across this iconic structure, just as I had done twenty years prior.  

 

It took quite a while walking across the Bridge.  It is currently under restoration, and as you might imagine, the levels of noise were quite high. It was also very, very hot.  To top it all off, I realized at some point walking across the bridge that I had made a poor shoe choice.  I persevered, however, and was rewarded on the other side with a rejuvenating breeze in this recently renovated section of New York.

After enjoying Brooklyn, I caught a water taxi back to Manhattan thinking I was heading toward Wall Street, but instead ended up in the opposite direction near the Empire State Building.  I was in shock over how cheap the transportation was at $4 a ticket.  That was the good news.  The bad news was that my feet had continued to deteriorate, forcing me to buy a new pair of sandals on sale at Bloomingdales. 

The sad news at this point was that I realized that I was not going to last until the fireworks on the Hudson.  Shops were beginning to close down, but I ventured up into the upper West Side, frequently ducking into Starbucks to take advantage of the free wifi.  Eventually I hobbled into a cab and limped my way up to the hotel room.  I felt I might never walk properly again, and after giving some thought as to whether I had purchased the proper medical insurance, I sank into a deep sleep that lasted until 10am the next day.  I did have to wake up at one stage to umpire a fight that had broken out between my husband and two children, but managed to go back to sleep.

On my second day I ventured into Soho, and immediately fell in love with this part of the city.  It is chic, clean, filled with great shops, and populated by stylish, impossibly thin women who must eat little more than celery and grapefruit.  Here I managed to find comfortable shoes on sale at a new shop, Melissa Galleria, a brand I have always admired.  I now had hope that I would not be crippled for the rest of my life, and that the rest of the trip was saved.  I was also happy that I would not have to fess up to Christie about my feet troubles.

Who knew craft could be cool  . . . 

After having a look around at this area of NYC that came very close to being destroyed before locals stepped in to preserve it, I enjoyed a delightful brunch, a crab BLT, at David Burke Kitchens.

This day was incredibly hot, too hot for much other than retail therapy.  I finished the evening with a meal from Shake Shack.

On my third day I woke up bright and early and enjoyed a fantastic breakfast of carmelized french toast at Norma's.  Once again I made a mental note to return with Christie.  A visit to Top of the Rock was next on the agenda, followed by a trip to the Meat Packing District, and one of my favorite shops, DVF. An iphone cover was the only thing that I could afford to buy.

After DVF, I had a little look at Greenwich Village, and then made one of what would turn out to be far too many trips to the five story Nike Store.

 

That night I headed to Bryant Park, where I made the worst food choice of the entire week.  I ordered this thing called a tuna melt.  I had assumed this would be a healthy choice.  How wrong I was.  It came with a dipping sauce, which I used liberally, much to my later regret.

I was getting excited at this point because Christie was due in the very next morning.  My excitement was due to how much I had been able to accomplish before my very demanding friend turned up with her impossibly long must-see list for her first visit to NYC.  But that's a story for the next post.

Post Cards From North America: Tourists in NYC

On our last full day in New York City, Gillian and I decided that we had no choice but to abandon our attempts to blend in with the locals.  We had experienced partial success when we were approached for directions and information the day before, and so donning shorts, t-shirts, and trainers was somewhat painful.  A bike tour of Central Park followed by a journey to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty were on the day's agenda, however, and those simply could not be accomplished in skirts and heels.

First, of course, we needed a good breakfast.  The food at Balthazars in Little Italy fully lived up to our expectations, and the staff pretended not to notice our attire.  We picked out a couple of pastries on the way out for our morning tea.

Touring Central Park on bike turned out to be a fantastic idea.  It has a circumference of six miles, so attempting to see all of it on foot would take a full day.  Our tour guide James did his best to keep us entertained while pointing out the architectural highlights along the way, and in spite of his corny jokes, we enjoyed his monlogue.  The biking itself was not arduous, although we did find ourselves struggling to keep up with our mostly younger fellow tourists on the hills.

I had read in my guide book that the best photo opportunity in Central Park was of the Bow Bridge pictured below.  Unfortunately I had lost my guide book somewhere between Canada and Michigan, and in fact never found it again until three days after we landed in Melbourne, so it was no help to me now that I actually found myself in Central Park.  James told us where to find the Bow Bridge, but I was somewhat unimpressed.

Gillian walked a bit further than I did, and got a better angle I think of the bridge with her iphone.  Not that we were competing of course.

For some reason I didn't take a picture of the Guggenheim Museum located in the section of the eastern edge of the park known as Museum Mile.  I must have been struggling to catch my breath then, a result no doubt of three weeks of overeating with no exercise to speak of.

After looking at the vast decommissioned Jacquelyn Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, we cycled some more and climbed to the top of the architectural folly known as Belvedere's Castle before ending our tour at Strawberry Fields.

We said good-bye to James just after viewing the spot where John Lennon was shot, and then after a restorative frappuccino from Starbucks, hopping on the metro down to Battery Park to board the boat to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.  We were totally unprepared for the crowds of people with the same idea, but persevered with our original plan.  Since the Statue of Liberty is currently closed due to restoration, we viewed it only from the boat, but we did take a quick tour of the immigration museum at Ellis Island.  This was especially interesting to me as some of my great-grandparents were processed at this facility.  At least one of them wrote about the joy of the first glimpse of the famous symbol of freedom and opportunity.

I spent some time considering what it must have been like to endure the five hours of waiting to be processed after weeks at sea in crowded and uncomfortable conditions.  I decided I should no longer complain about the waits we have experienced at immigration after long plane rides.  I also found the pile of luggage fascinating, particularly as the plaque informed us that trunks were frequently lost in the chaos of humanity, belongings, and officials.

Gillian spotted the photo opportunity below as we approached Ellis Island:

Back in Manhattan again, we turned our attention to last minute shopping at the Plaza Food Hall for our beloved but not-quite-missed-yet family members.  

Our last evening deserved more than a lobster roll or a burger from Shake Shack, we thought, and besides, a family member had given us some money with very specific instructions to spend it on an extravagent item at a restaurant that we would not order under normal conditions.  For this meal we headed to Print, a restaurant located in the district known as Hells Kitchen.  We failed to find one single item that met our criteria. Since this was our last opportunity to eat out, we decided instead to go for new flavors and experiences with each choice.

On the advice of our opinionated waiter, I chose octopus for the appetizer.  It was tender but nicely blackened on the outside, not at all tough like octopus I have eaten in the past.  The waiter explained that it had been marinated for several hours in a brine before cooking.  It was accompanied by potato, chorizo, and lemon.

Gillian chose crab salad, something not at all common down under.  It was as pleasing to the palate as to the eyes.

For mains, we settled on Pan Roasted Halibut with favas, sugar snaps, and green peas, and Crispy Duck Breast served with turnips, kohlrabi, kale, and favas surrounded by a rhubarb sauce.  I thought the flavors blended together beautifully.

As you might expect, by this time exhaustion had begun to settle in for both of us.  We had one thing left to see, Top of the Rock at night, but since we were sure the lines to get in would still be quite long, we headed back to the hotel for a rest.  Gillian promptly fell into a deep sleep.  I briefly considered going by myself but rejected this idea, and instead woke her up.  I am not sure that she has completely forgiven me for this yet.  She did, however, manage to rouse herself, and in a genuine demonstration of friendship, she pretended to enjoy the experience, in spite of the fact that she had already been earlier in the week.  I'll include photos of both visits.

As for the decision to visit Top of the Rock rather than the Empire State Building, we chose the former because from it you can view the latter.  I loved the experience of seeing the city at night, but after looking at Gillian's photos, I hope to go someday during daylight as well.

I didn't get a great angle on the Empire State Building partly because of the crowds and because of my attempts to rest the camera on a ledge to hold it steady.  But we did enjoy seeing it at night.

The next photo gives a good idea of just how large Central Park is in comparison to the skyline of Manhattan.  It comprises 843 acres.

Sadly this was our last bit of fun in NYC.  All that remained was to pack early on Wednesday morning, no small feat after all that shopping, and hop in a cab to La Guardia.  I surprised myself by flagging one down without any help, and we were soon on our way.

This particular flight was the tenth one for me in fewer than four weeks.  I will list all of them for you now: 

1. Melbourne to Sydney

2.  Sydney to L.A.

3. L.A. to Atlanta

4. Atlanta to Savannah

5.  Atlanta to Toronto

6.  Toronto to Fredericton

7.  Moncton to Newark

8.  Newark to Pittsburgh

9.  Grand Rapids to Newark

10.  LaGuardia to Cleveland

You would think, wouldn't you, that after all of this travel by air, I should be an expert on checking in at the airport, carry-on luggage, going through security, and keeping track of all of my belongings along the way. I can assure you that I am not.  The mistakes I made on this trip would be too humiliating to list all in one place, but I will tell you that I have managed to go through airport security without making at least one mistake, whether that was failing to take out my laptop, remove my jacket, or take off my shoes.  At LaGuardia I attempted, for the second time on this trip, to get through security with all of my toiletries.

The first time this happened (Atlanta, Georgia) was humiliating enough.  At least then I could blame my oversight on getting up at 3:45am and therefore failing to remember to move the toiletry bag to from the overnight suitcase to the checked luggage.  The security staff in Atlanta quizzed me several times over this mistake, and asked me repeatedly if I realized that they would be forced to throw out the shampoo and conditioner bottles, the two types of sunscreen lotion, the hand moisturizer, the hair gel, the facial cleanser, and the body lotion.  Of course I realized that by then, but what choice did I have?  None, of course.

So to make the same mistake again, to hear the words, "Ma'am, are you the owner of this bag?" and then to have to be escorted by arm back through the security entrance in front of the lines of waiting travelers was humbling indeed.  Gillian made a  show of suppressing her laughter, but then redeemed herself by promising to never mention the incident.  Fortunately I had time to check an additional suitcase, with the painful extra cost of $35.00, and then make it back through security for the second time.  All in a day's travel, I suppose, and much to Ross's relief, I did manage to make it all the way back to Melbourne without losing our passports, and without being late for any flights.

I am getting ahead of myself, however.  I have one or two more posts to complete from our North American tour, after which time I will resume regular programming from down under.

 

Grateful

We are back in Melbourne again, relaxing in front of the fire on a winter evening.  Three of our children have been asleep since 4pm, so the house is quiet.  It is always a bit of a shock to the system to abruptly change seasons, but no doubt winter will soon feel normal. I am about to crash myself, but wanted to take just a few minutes to express my gratitude to all those who have touched our hearts and lives during the past four weeks.  

I am grateful . . .

For food delivered ahead of time to refrigerators in three of the locations we have called home while we were away.

For brothers who have delighted my children by (1) taking them to surf in the waves, (2) driving a boat so they could go tubing, and (3) making a special trip to see fireworks on the 4th of July.

For parents who have looked after our children, sorted out rental vehicles for us, fed us, and hauled us, our beach stuff, our luggage, and all of our kids over hundreds of miles.

For numerous home-cooked meals in all the locations we have been on this trip.

For friends who have made time and even changed their schedules to be able to see us, and especially for one who drove nearly fifteen hours to stay with us in Pittsburgh.

For good health for all six of us the entire time we were away.

For my three older kids who have pitched in during difficult moments by packing suitcases, cleaning up houses in which we have stayed, loading vehicles, and entertaining the self-proclaimed main character in our family.

For fun feedback from my  blog readers.

For ten straight on-time flights.  The eleventh was another story.  We sat for over three hours on the tarmac last night because of a computer glitch before finally taking off at 4am EST.  I am grateful that James slept during this time, and that he managed to survive the nine remaining hours of the flight once he did wake up with very few complaints.  

For friends who fed and kept Ross company during the past two weeks.

For the opportunity to experience NYC with the perfect traveling companion and tour guide extraordinaire.

For no lost luggage, in spite of the fact that we travelled back with eleven suitcases and nine carry-ons.

For a most happy reunion with Ross this morning.

 

Post Cards from NYC: Day Three

After such a successful second day in New York City, I woke up to our third one with great expectations.  It started off very well indeed with breakfast at Norma's, an experience for the senses to be sure.  Good breakfasts turned out to be a theme of our four days in New York.  They are quite necessary when a full day of sighseeing and shopping is on the agenda we decided, and we enjoyed them thoroughly.

We chose cinnamon crepes with mango filling and eggs benedict over buttermilk pancakes with baby potatoes. Some of the potatoes were purple inside and out.  Both selections were wonderful.

Here is one method used by Gillian to avoid consulting the guidebook at every turn.  Over a second pot of coffee we planned out our next few steps, including subway stations and street addresses.

The aerial tramway to Roosevelt Island was first on our list.  The guidebook promised stunning views, and we were not disappointed.  Located in the East River, Roosevelt Island is two miles long and eighty feet wide.  It was first used by the Dutch as a place to raise hogs.  Later the city of New York built an infamous penitentiary as well as two almshouses there, followed by a smallpox hospital and eventually a training center for nurses.  Most of the original buildings have been destroyed to make way for residential complexes.

For just a few seconds on the aerial tram, you get a view of both the Empire State building and the Chrysler Building in the same frame.

We had a wander around part of the island, gazing back across the river at Manhattan, but it was rather hot, so we curtailed further exploration.  There was shopping to be done in any case.

Once back over the river again, we walked away from the tram station and somehow ended up in front of Bloomingdales.  We had to enter of course.  A few purchases were made, but unfortunately they were all for others.

Further shopping included an obligatory stop at the American Girl Store, Tiffany's, the Nike Store, and the Gap, after which point we collapsed for a bit in the cool air conditioning in the hotel before gathering enough strength to venture back out.

This time our goal was to find the statue of Eleanor Roosevelt in Riverside Park.  We have been fascinated by the Roosevelts since reading Hazel Rowley's biography Franklin and Eleanor: An Extraordinary Marriage.  Gillian was also interested in it because Liz Lemmon of 30 Rock claims it is her favorite place in New York City.

I admired the lighting of the setting sun on the buildings facing Riverside Park, and then we agreed it was time for burgers and fries from Shake Shack.  We had tried to go the night before, but the wait was over an hour.  This time around it was much more reasonable.

The Lincoln Center at night:

It was the smell of the flower stall pictured below that we often noticed first.  Fresh flowers are everywhere, and we presume they are popular as a way to enjoy a bit of nature, color, and beauty whilst living in the city.

The day ended with a bang at Times Square.  Ten minutes was more than enough for me. The sights and sounds and crowds were dizzying.  Fortunately I was with Gillian, who demonstrated once more her cab hailing skills.  Within a minute of our decision to escape the madness, she had stepped into the street and flagged one down.  The friendly driver had us back at our hotel within minutes, for which we were most grateful.

 

 

Post Cards From Michigan: Hot and Hot

When I began the arduous and tedious job of packing for these four weeks away, I did consider the possible extremes of weather that we might encounter in our travels from South Carolina to eastern Canada and several spots in between.  I must say that I didn't really expect we would fully experience both extremes, but experience them we certainly have. After nearly perfect weather down south, New Brunswick treated us to 55 degrees F with steady rain, while Michigan jumped to the opposite end with 103 degrees F and non-stop sunshine. 

I really can't say which one that I prefer.  I do know, however, that for the unusally hot days, we were grateful for the lake at our backdoor.  Swimming, boating, and tubing have never felt better.  

While the children were enjoying the lake, my grandma was hard at work keeping all of us fed.  She did have some help, of course, but still I am sure we do not fully appreciate her efforts as we should. Thank you, Grandma, for giving all of us a wonderful time.

 

Post Cards from NYC: Second Day

We started our second day in New York City in a most appropriate fashion, I think.  Gillian and I begin many of our days in Melbourne with a walk in Central Park, and since our hotel is just two blocks from New York's Central Park, we headed there first thing.  We didn't really maintain our traditional semi-brisk walking pace, but rather admired the various views, shook our heads over the exercise fanatics who had just finished a triathalon, and took photos of course.

Compare the New York Central Park view above with the Melbourne Central Park below:

Central Park was full of surprises for me.  I had no idea, for starters, just how large it is, nor how many different things it contains.  We spent some time in the underpass pictured below admiring the decorative tiles.  When Gillian visited New York twenty years ago, this underpass was quite dirty and filled with people who had taken up semi-permanent residence. Today it has been cleaned up.

We even had a wildlife moment in Central Park.   Gillian was as fascinated with this turtle, she claimed, as I have been over the antipodean koalas and kangaroos.

We earned brunch, we concluded, with our morning's exercise.  Gillian had researched numerous options for every possible meal, including coffee breaks and afternoon teas, so we took the subway to one of them.  I quickly realized why this one had appealed to her.  It was Australian-owned, and included items such as avocado toast, lamb hash, and flat whites.  We sprang for the flat whites, but Gillian chose eggs benedict, and I had the Scottish smoked salmon with scrambled eggs.  Yum.

From Kingswood, we walked to the iconic Washington Square, located in Greenwich Village.

Here is a picture of something we are not doing on this trip.  There's nothing worse, Gillian thinks, than looking like a tourist in this city.  Furthermore, she prefers to decide what she is going to see rather than listen to anyone else's itinerary.  As long as she is the one doing the work of researching everything, I am happy to agree with this plan.

The next item on our itinerary was the 2pm three-hour Circle Line cruise around the entire island of Manhattan.  We made an exception to the whole tourist thing with this cruise because it was so highly recommended in numerous sources that we have consulted. Gillian got us there with a combination of subway riding and cab hailing, impressing me with her navigational skills.  As most of you know, I can get lost in my own hometown, so it has been wonderful for me to not have to worry about this.  I am just along for the ride.

The Circle Line tour turned out to be a great choice, for several reasons.  Our guide was fantastic, although perhaps lacking in some people skills. We didn't mind, however, because we followed his rules, and he pitched much of his three-hour narrative to the two of us. Once we acclimated to his accent, we sat nearly mesmerized by the wealth of his knowledge of and pride in this amazing city.  The large boat was packed with people, but he maintained very strict control, scolding passengers for everything from blocking our view, carrying on loud cell phone conversations, or failing to properly watch their children. 

I took this photo because our guide explained that on September 10, 2001, the black tower in the center would have been framed by the twin towers. 

 The art deco Chrysler building can be seen above and below.

The cruise gave us a very good sense of the geography of Manhattan Island,  We were surprised at the forest and parkland located at the northern end, and then enjoyed the view of the George Washington Bridge as we returned to the Circle Line Pier.

I'm not sure we should have been hungry after sitting for three hours, but we were.  Frozen yogurt from Bloomingdales did the trick.  We both ordered the smallest size, but still ended up dumping a third of it in the bin.

Fortified for the moment, we took the subway north to attend a service at the Redeemer Presbyterian campus on the East Side, located in Hunter College, stopping off to gaze at the Franklin Delano Roosevelt townhouse that his wife Eleanor was forced to share with her mother-in-law Sara.  There were two separate units, but doors connecting the two townhouses were located on each level.

Attending Tim Keller's church was a breath of fresh air on a really hot day.  To see the auditorium at Hunter College packed with students and twenty-somethings was truly invigorating, although we did feel about eighty years old in comparison.  We enjoyed the traditional worship filled with familiar hymns, and came away challenged by the sermon from Matthew on taking up our cross to follow Christ.

There was still plenty of daylight left to enjoy after the service.  The flatiron district was on the itinerary, and after riding a couple of different subway lines, we emerged from the underground to a fantastic view of the famous building.

We finished off the evening with delicious lobster rolls from the Empire Diner.

I had grand ideas of finishing this post last night, but instead dropped almost immediately into a deep sleep, no big surprise after such a jam-packed, marvelous day.

Post Cards from North America: New York to Pittsburgh and Beyond

If you are having trouble keeping up with us in our North American travels, I am not surprised.  It sometimes takes me a while to remember where I am when I wake up in the morning.  The last time I checked in on this blog, I wrote about my boys fishing in eastern Canada on Harvey Lake.  We have covered lots of ground since then.  Here's an update.

From Fredericton, we drove to the city of Moncton, New Brunswick and stayed overnight there before one of those horrid 6am flights.  It was at some point during the process of loading up from Maxine's cottage that I realized we had way too much luggage.  Before we left Melbourne, I had actually congratulated myself on packing light for this trip.  It is true that we traveled to North America with fewer suitcases than on our previous trips.  It is also true that even so we brought way too much stuff with us.  I have been reminded of this every single day since we left, and I have spent far too many hours packing, unpacking, and repacking.  I refuse to calculate exactly how many hours, but I will include a few other statistics related to our travels in this post.

The good news about our hotel in Moncton is that it not only had an indoor swimming pool, it also had an impressive waterslide.  I sat by the side of the pool and edited photos and a blog post while Cameron, Sophie, and James had a marvelous time in the water.  Later Katie and I took turns on the treadmill, my only official exercise in the past three weeks, and then we tried to get some sleep before the alarm went off at 4am.  Brutal is the word that comes to mind, although at least this time we had slightly more sleep than the four hours in Atlanta the previous week.  The hotel in Moncton was our sixth new place to sleep, with five more locations still on the itinerary.

From Moncton, we flew to Newark, New Jersey.  The only good part of this leg of the journey was a fantastic view of Manhattan and the Statute of Liberty as we landed.  By then the sun had finally risen, and I disobeyed airline regulations by turning on my phone to get the following photo.

In Newark we had a tedious three hour layover after going through customs, baggage collection and immigration for the third time in twelve days.  Confined to a small area of the airport, we struggled to find something suitable to eat for breakfast.  I ended up buying Cinnamon Toast Crunch for Sophie and James, a decision I was later to regret.  Ross gamely attempted to entertain James with several walks around the four gates and one store in our terminal, but he eventually allowed him to play on his ipad, another decision we were later to regret.

The combination of rising at 4am, a sugar overload, and too much electronic stimulation we believe all contributed to the twenty minute meltdown we and our fellow passengers endured from James as we finally landed in Pittsburgh, our eleventh airport so far on our trip (we still have four to go).  All he wanted was his blanket, but the seatbelt sign was on, and it was in the overhead bin. There was no reasoning with him, and nothing we could do.  Twenty minutes have never lasted longer for us, but they did eventually end.  James gave a final protest by collapsing in a spread eagle position in the walkway as we deplaned, forcing Ross to haul him the rest of the way into the terminal.  Our older children were properly horrified by their youngest sibling, and  I myself was so unnerved by his behavior that I managed to leave my handbag behind twice, first on the airplane and then later in the restroom.  Thankfully it was returned to me both times intact.

Once inside our third rental vehicle, James conked out, most unusual for this child.  We drove him to a source of protein as quickly as possible, and food, combined with an early bedtime and a total ban on electronic games for the forseeable future, restored our son to us.

In Pittsburgh we were fortunate to be able to stay in our house, which is being looked after by wonderful friends of ours.  Our five days there were so frantic and full that my camera stayed in its bag most of the time. I did take a picture of our enclosed porch, because it is the thing I miss most about our house, followed very closely it must be said by our fast-running extra-large-capacity washer and dryer.

How does one catch up after being gone two years with dozens of people in just a few days?  The answer is not very well.  With each encounter we felt we had just begun to reconnect when it was time to say good-bye again.  In some cases, we had time only for a quick hug and hello, and as I have written before, the good-byes do not get any easier with practice.  Still, for this time, insufficient as it was, we were grateful, and for friends who welcomed us back as if we had never left, we can only say thank-you from the bottom of our hearts.

In Pittsburgh we had to also say good-bye to Ross until the middle of July.  He regretfully left us to return to work in Melbourne.  I missed him especially yesterday as I packed up our rental van (it has Virginia plates even though we picked it up in Pittsburgh and will be leaving it in Grand Rapids, Michigan) and hit the road for my brother's house.  We drove through two hours of rain and thunderstorms on the Ohio turnpike, and during our seven hours in the car, I attempted to calcluate how much time we will spend in cars in North America.  I came up with an estimate of twenty-four hours, which is not terrible.  We are very glad for those airmiles that took us from South Carolina to Fredericton and then Pittsburgh.

James came up with his own estimate:  billions of hours, he is sure. He survived, however, and he and Sophie colored much of the way.  Every couple of hours I passed around the Jelly Belly jar I had purchased at Costco before our trip,  I was careful to balance it out with protein and carrot sticks after the episode from a few days prior, and all went well.

In Michigan we were welcomed by my enthusiastic nephews.  It gave me great pleasure to tour my brother's house and then to eat the gourmet feast prepared for us.

We are now at my grandmother's house, enjoying the hospitality with which she has blessed us for so many years. For the beauty of this place and for the liberty we enjoy in this country we are most thankful.