On our return, we really enjoyed the winding decent to Waimea through lush ranchlands.

Beyond Waimea, the volcanic landscapes reminded us of a tropical Iceland.

We continued to drive all the way to the Kealakekua Bay and Manini Beach. Here, we blissfully dipped our feet in the water while watching our final sunset in Hawaii.

After the sun hit the horizon, we drove to Kona for a dinner at the Outback. This left us with a perfect amount of time to return the rental car and shuttle to the airport for our return.

We really enjoyed our time on the Big Island. On a return trip, or given more time, we would have selected a second base on the other side of the island, but this was a relaxing and digestible amount of touring for a short / inexpensive getaway.

Here's the recap video:

Afterwards, we went to the shops at Wailea for some gelato. We continue to Kua Bay, another gem, to sit and watch the sunset. This seemed to be a popular spot, and we noted the water stations which we thought we might use the next day if we required a rinse before heading to the airport.

I had planned to grab a taxi into town when we got in, but there were very few at that late hour. There were no Uber rides available. Perhaps pre-booking a shuttle would be the thing to do if arriving at night. However, Erin spotted one and the driver was nice enough to pick us up. We stayed at Kona Plaza which was very well located; after ditching our bags around midnight, we walked up the hill 10-15 minutes to Safeway (open 24 hours) to stock up for our stay. 

We spent the first 3 days right in Kona, without a car. We used the small beach at the Marriott one day. Another day we walked to the Queen's Bath, a tidal pool in front of a gated neighborhood (foot access was through a small gate behind the ball diamonds). 

It's always nice to have a still perspective as the city comes to life. I returned to the Altstadt Hotel for a lovely included breakfast, and then headed to the train station for transport to the airport. This was a worthwhile one-night detour on my return!

After returning on the funicular, I walked the lakeshore and meandered up the steep hill to the central station. In the early afternoon on a Sunday, most of the shops were closed. There wasn't much to stick around for, so I caught the next train to Zurich.

The train was clean, comfortable, and fast. Some of the glimpses I got of the Alps were beautiful. It was interesting to watch the architectural characteristics change from Italian to German as we reached Zurich.

Once in Zurich, I marvelled at the bustling and glistening train station and made my way to the river. From the bridge, I pulled out my camera and tripod for a nice sunset photo.

After checking into my hotel, I found few dining options on a Sunday night. A local place called the Raclette Kitchen was open, and absolutely packed. I got a seat at the bar and treated myself to this casual Swiss dish.

Switzerland

My hotel was a boutique family-run place in an unassuming alley, located right in the centre of the city. It was lovely in all respects. I spent the afternoon studying on the terrace, then set out to return to Milan. I passed a children's store in Busto and found a replacement Lego character for Clara, hilariously sporting an acorn hat. The metro was easy to navigate right to San Siro where I enjoyed pre-match food and drink in a great atmosphere and lovely weather. The stadium had awesome energy and Inter played really great football. All four goals were really well created. The local fans were hospitable and I had a terrific experience.

The return journey was more challenging because the first three metro stops I walked to were closed, presumably to prevent crush injuries. At last I found an open station and jammed myself into the hottest, most humid train journey of my life. Thankfully it lasted only 6 stops or so, and I was able to find a train back to Busto. 

Stormy Morning in Riomaggiore Stormy Morning in Riomaggiore - portrait

In Vernazza, there was a market setting up, so I bought some fresh vegetables to supplement my carb-rich diet. I packed up my things and returned to the station for the short trip south to Manarola. I really enjoyed Manarola. Like Riomaggiore, you have to walk through a tunnel to get to the town. I found this town had the most selection of quality shops, cafes and restaurants. I had a really nice ravioli lunch and spent the majority of the afternoon relaxing on the beautiful terrace of my hotel. 

Sunset was gorgeous. I took some photos from the viewpoint at the top of the town, and then rushed past the water for a second viewpoint at blue hour. It was from this viewpoint that I got my only view of Corniglia, just north along the coast.

Manarola Sunset Corniglia Manarola Blue Hour Colours

Monterosso Alley Monterosso Panorama Vernazza Panorama Vernazza Harbour

There was an absolutely fantastic liquorice gelato in the shop down by the harbour.
Vernazza Sunset Vernazza Pink Sky Vernazza Blue Hour Day 2

I was hoping to be as efficient as possible as I burned this travel day on the way to Monterosso, so I grabbed a quick focaccia in the central station and bought the first ticket to La Spezia from one of the machines. It required a quick change in Genoa and after almost 4 hours I was finally in Monterosso. Quite a day!

Painterly Bicycle   Hidden Monterosso
Statua del Gigante Day 1

We moved across the street to play mini golf, then north of the river and east of 35 to a restaurant called Wilder Wood. It made gluten-free dining non-stressful, if not overly refined. We ate under the silo and enjoyed the sunset over the state capitol.  

The next morning, I decided to return to take a couple pictures of this charming place and its historic hall.

After supper, we drove to the historic center of town and I took a few photos:

We jumped on the first tram tour to the training facility and toured some of the exhibits before a picnic lunch on the lawn in the warm breeze. After lunch, we listened to a presentation by retired NASA astronaut Bill McArthur.

After our fun day at the Space Center we left for Galveston and checked into our condo at The Victorian, just across the street from the beach. The day concluded with a bit of fun by the water as the sun went down.

It had been a long two years since the last time we traveled anywhere! We got our rapid tests done and drove to Calgary the night before. Steve was kind enough to drive us to the airport in the morning after putting us up for the night.

There was a family check-in area with Westjet which was incredibly convenient. They checked our test results, proof of vaccination, and sent us on our way without any lineups. We had been sure to arrive 3 hour before our flight just in case; however, there were no lines at US Customs either, so we found ourselves with quite a wait in the departure area. We were much happier to have it this way than a hurried departure. We also took this time to pre-order groceries at a Kroger close to the Houston airport, and change accommodations in the San Antonio area after having second thoughts about staying in the congested downtown area in the middle of a pandemic.

It felt like a long wait after boarding as we queued for de-icing but the flight was uneventful as we arrived into Houston close to supper-time. We made the grocery pick-up and drove to the Clear Lake area south of the city, checking into a Sonesta Suites. I'd forgotten about these freeways: big roads and big speeds. We were starving at this point and the kids were both excited and exhausted (a dangerous combination). We prepped some food for the next day and crashed.

However, during the boarding process I received an alert on my phone that all outbound flights from Keflavik to North America were cancelled due to high winds. And here we were about to fly to Iceland! I knew there would be a much greater chance of us getting home on time from Dublin than to be stuck in Iceland with only one way out. However, I was told that my only choice was to proceed, so we boarded the plane as instructed.

Upon our safe arrival in Iceland, we found out that we had been one of the only flights coming in that day. There were hundreds of people lined up for customer service. Nearly resigned to nursing our hangovers on the floor of the airport as we waited our turn, Erin happened to catch the notice of a passing Icelandair staff member, who in turn caught the eye of the supervisor. The supervisor was surprised (and annoyed) find out they had sent in another plane knowing the situation. She whisked us to the front of the line and in moments had us booked on an emergency flight the next day to Edmonton! What luck! She then issued vouchers for a hotel and meals and we found ourselves soon on a bus destined for downtown Reykjavik.

It was surreal to be back in Reykjavik after a few years, without intending to be there. It was a cold, windy day but with blue skies. The kids were missing us terribly, and the stress of disappointing them did not leave us in a mood to make the best of it. However, we were happy with the way Icelandair cared for us and it's kind of fun to look back on the situation now.

Reykjavik Weather

Once inside, the novelty quickly wore off for the children. Again, we cut our visit short due to the nagging claims of boredom. Our friend Claire was waiting for us in the gift shop, and we walked across the street together for lunch at Wagamama. Callum did a great job about being more adventurous with his meal, and enjoyed a noodle dish. The staff were amazing with Clara's celiac disease and Erin's autoimmune paleo diet. At the end, one of the staff made a big deal about Callum's picture he'd coloured, and even posted it in the front of the restaurant which made a young boy's day.

We took a taxi over to Covent Garden to pick up tickets for an evening performance of Matilda at the Cambridge Theatre. We walked around in the rain a bit, stopping at a pop-up tea shop for a great time with some friendly staff, and to a crowded Monmouth Coffee for a late-day espresso. Tony met us for dinner at a great Italian pizzeria near Seven Dials. We said our goodbyes and the four of us took in a very fun evening of theatre. What a memorable way to conclude our family vacation to Europe!

Here is the final video of our trip:

Then we packed up the car and headed for Malaga. Looking at the skies, we chose the less scenic option. This turned out to be a good choice, as the ceiling was quite low and it rained heavily even at lower elevations.

It wasn't the nicest way to end our vacation in Spain; we arrived in Malaga in the early afternoon and had planned to spend the afternoon at a park or on the beach. It was really cold and windy after the rain quit but after eating lunch in our car outside the outlet mall, we braved the conditions along the promenade. The kids had fun but Erin and I shivered the whole time. What then followed was a frustrating search for a gluten-free restaurant that was open at 4:00 pm. We finally found a pizza joint that could accommodate us, though a gourmet experience it was not. Our early evening flight timing had given us probably the only logistical challenge of the entire holiday. However, we were in plenty of time for our flight after returning our rental car, and a stress-free return was the main priority on this day.

The drive became increasingly scenic as we approached the mountains, but also increasingly wet. By the time we neared Grazalema we were fully in the clouds and crawling slowly around the hairpins behind a vehicle intent on setting a new speed minimum. There was a little rainbow of hope at the bend in Grazalema as the rain pelted down.

We descended towards Ronda and dropped out of the clouds. The rain eased up, and by the time we checked into the Hotel Polo and eaten lunch in a nice little restaurant, it had stopped entirely. We walked around this amazing little city taking in the breathtaking views of the valley below. One of my favourite memories will be watching Clara dance to the accordion music in a mirador overlooking the hills of Andalusia. 

We ended the day with some gluten free churros and chocolate.

Here is our video recap:

Once everyone else woke up and we had some breakfast, we went for a walk. Back to the apartment briefly to re-fuel, we went down to the beach. It was chilly but the kids enjoyed playing in the sand. Callum built a fort and the walls withstood the waves of high tide.

In the late afternoon, we went to the Torre Tavira and saw the camera obscura, which was really interesting. The views from the top in the late day sun were terrific.

We walked past the cathedral and through a square filled with music before taking the seawall back to our apartment as night fell.

Here is a video recap:

It was, however, cooler than we'd hoped; the wind off the ocean had a bite to it. The kids were thrilled to have a fantastic playground just outside the hotel. Unfortunately, this part of the city seemed to be quite sleepy this time of year, and cafes, restaurants, and music were limited. 

Here is the video recap from the day:

Our second activity after lunch was to visit the Alcazar. The gardens were extensive, and would have been magical in the spring or summer. It was a cold day so we didn't linger as long as we might have otherwise. The palaces were also very beautiful but the kids were predictably underwhelmed. While the Alcazar certainly cannot be missed, it is difficult to beat the Alhambra Palace in Granada.

After supper, Callum and I left for the highly anticipated match at the Villamarin between Betis and Sevilla, intercity rivals. There was great energy as we arrived outside the stadium. We found ourselves behind a crowded barricade under guard while the Sevilla fans paraded towards the stadium flanked by mounted police. The chanting between the fans was really something to witness, although I had to explain to Callum that some words are not okay to repeat, even if they are in a different language.

The start of the match, including the unison singing of the Betis Hymn, was unforgettable. The rest of the game won't linger as long in the memory. We got to witness a tying goal by the home side shortly before halftime, but overall the match was rather disorganized and lacked some of the reckless enthusiasm going forward, which I'd accustomed to seeing from Betis in recent years. 

We left the stadium amongst the masses, and with luck caught a bus when Callum was clever enough to identify the #3 which I missed. This got us home just before midnight, and we hung up our green and white striped scarves for the evening.

Here is a video of another very long but very enjoyable day in Sevilla:

Afterwards, we had a late breakfast and toured the Cathedral. It was a very popular attraction but we had purchased our tickets at another cathedral the day before, which allowed us to skip the line. Once inside, however, we were faced with even more people and it took quite some time to reach the top of the Giralda Tower. The church itself was breathtaking but it was difficult to take in as much as we wanted to, due to young children claiming boredom.

We had a late lunch and went back out for a good espresso at Torch, a playground stop, and then returned to a bustling Plaza de Espana where we rented a pedal cart and toured around the park. 

We could have spent a bit longer, but we wanted to get to the Setas before dark. We thought about taking a taxi, but in reality it was just as quick to walk. On the way, we passed through some colourful squares:

We did catch some nice colours after sunset from atop the "weird mushroomy thing." By this time, the kids were quite tired; however, we found it a worthwhile stop for the interesting architecture and good views.

Here is a video recap:

The flight was uneventful until we started descending. I got a fantastic view of Arcos de la Frontera from the air, though now photo of it. The pilot was most welcoming to the children and allowed them to sit in the flight deck once we started deplaning. 

We had planned to get a taxi direct to our apartment, but a strike left us taking the bus into the city. In the end, this saved us a bit of money and the walk from the station was okay. As it was, we needed to drop our bags and head out for lunch prior to being able to check into the Giralda Suites near to the Cathedral. 

We had a nice lunch, wandered over to Triana, then back to check in. In the evening, I returned to Triana for some sunset photos. The atmosphere was very pleasant as the sky turned from orange to pink to purple.

Here is a video from the day:

We booked Westjet flights from Edmonton to Gatwick via Toronto. Even though our final destination was Spain, Westjet did not offer their seasonal flights to Barcelona in November. We thought it would be a good opportunity to see London during our trip, and EasyJet offered excellent flight options. We flew all four of us return to Spain from London, including one checked bag, for $400 CAD total. 

Westjet's new 787 Dreamliner comfortably took us from Toronto to Gatwick overnight. Sleep was minimal; I find this flight is not quite long enough to get comfortable for a night's sleep, and you don't get the same quality of meals as on a flight from Calgary to to London, for example. 

We got in earlier than expected and were onto the train by 9:00 am. Changing to the Underground at St. Pancras, we exited Baker Street and found my friend Aaron's place, which was generously offered to us as a staging area for our half-day in London. Becoming quite hungry at this point, we met at Nando's in Picadilly. This was a safe and healthy option for us, as we were traveling with a 5 year-old celiac. 

We walked through Trafalgar Square to the Thames and crossed over Westminster Bridge. We used the 2-for-1 promotion offered through the National Railway to purchase tickets for the London Eye. I had chosen to pre-purchase train tickets from Gatwick rather than using an Oyster Card, in order to qualify for this promotion. This also allowed us to buy ourselves "regular" Oyster Cards at St. Pancras rather than the tourist ones which were available at Gatwick. The children could travel for free with our Oyster Cards, although we needed to purchase them a child's fare on the railway. It's all rather complicated, and needlessly so.

With luck, there was no queue and it was sunny in the late afternoon.

Southern View from London Eye St. Paul's Cathedral from London Eye Charing Cross Google London Looking Down on You Thames BW Northern View from the Eye

We walked to Waterloo Station, and after making a wrong turn we by chance bumped into friends from home! We collected our luggage from our layover residence, ate some Pizza Express takeout (celiac friendly), and returned to King's Cross to see Platform 9 3/4. 

I had also pre-purchased tickets from St. Pancras to Luton, and we arrived at the Ibis after a small hiccup when I assumed the shuttle would drop us at the hotel, but finding in retrospect it only stopped outside the Holiday Inn before carrying on to the airport. We were more than ready for a good sleep when we finally got there. Our budget-style room had a queen bed and a small single next to the window. I slept comfortably in the single, while Erin and the kids shared the queen. 

Here is a video from our very long day!

Then it was the tedious return to Dublin on the motorway. We made good time until we approached the city through a construction zone and the beginning of rush hour traffic. We dropped off the rental car in Swords and caught a taxi to our hotel in Malahide. 

Here's a video recap:

The climb to Ladies View and then Moll's Gap was really exceptional.

It didn't take long before we found ourselves in Kenmare. The triangular shaped historic town centre was really attractive and pleasant to spend a couple hours. After some ice cream and espresso, Erin found some lovely boots for a good price at Simplicity Shoes.

The weather was holding so we ventured a bit farther to Sneem. This little tidy town was attractive too, but felt more contrived for the benefit of the many tour buses which seemed to make it a regular stop. However, we had a truly amazing dessert and coffee at The Village Kitchen. They offered a couple tasty gluten-free options too.

Our luck with the weather seemed to be running out and we had grown weary of the winding roads. We chose a high-country return route to Moll's Gap and enjoyed the views immensely; clear skies and green grass would transform this landscape into something really special later in the spring I'm sure.

The rain began in earnest after our return to Killarney. We enjoyed dinner at Robertino's and then settled into a local sports bar for a couple pints and to watch some Champions League games. 

Here is a video recap from the day:

I then returned to the house on the hill where we stayed, capturing these shots:

After a nice, relaxing breakfast in the southwest facing dining room, we hit the road for Killarney. The first stop was to check out the grounds surrounding Bunratty Castle but we chose against a visit. We had learned that what looks like a short distance on the map can turn into a surprisingly long day of driving, so an earlier arrival in Killarney appealed to us after our late evening fiasco getting into Doolin.

Lunch was a healthy one in the suburbs of Limerick at Delish and we did arrive in Killarney in decent time as anticipated. We found the centrally located Scott's hotel to be adequate for our needs, and the underground parking was actually very convenient in the city centre. We walked around a bit, in and out of some shops, before settling on pizza for supper at Milano.

After dinner, we enjoyed a quiet dusk at Lough Leane in the shadow of Ross Castle. Here is a video recap of our day:

Driving in Ireland (or on the left) for the first time is quite an experience. It was extremely helpful to have Erin watchful in the passenger seat, but really I adapted quicker than I expect to the directional flow of traffic. It helped that we picked up the car on the outskirts of a smaller city; this was by design. The other helpful factor was getting an automatic. I actually really enjoy driving a manual transmission, but we did so much slowing down and speeding up as we wound up, down, and around the wild curves that Erin was almost carsick even with an automatic. The hardest thing to adapt to was not hugging the nonexistent shoulder on the left side, especially as tour buses and trucks often leaned over the centre line. The speed limits on the small, windy roads were ludicrous; 100 km/h in places that the laws of physics would prevent you from reaching 60 km/h!

Given the sunny weather, we chose to go north instead of south towards Doolin, our next night's accommodation. We did a loop north through Headford, Cong, Finny, and to the head of the Killary Fjord before traveling counterclockwise through Connemara and south back to Galway. It was a great drive with some terrific scenery, although the photos don't really do it justice.

Our ambition also turned our day into a very very long one. We pulled into Doolin as the sun was setting and rushed out to see the Cliffs of Moher under favourable conditions. It turned out to be a nice time; very quiet without other tourists and the light was quite nice. However, we didn't linger as we were starving.

We found seats at the bar at Gus O'Connor's pub and enjoyed a very good pub meal and a pint. They even had quality gluten-free beer for Erin! On this Sunday night, some folks were playing/singing some traditional Irish songs and it was quite a nice atmosphere.

We then retired to the Doolin View B&B for a good night's rest. Here are some video clips from the day:

The GoBus is located straight out the airport doors past the parking garage, at point 13. It is very well signed and easy to see. I would also note that there are a couple places to get food in this through-way that are far less busy than the ones inside the airport. The bus fare to Galway was 20E cash, and other than stopping in central Dublin, it was very comfortable and direct. 

It was easy to find a taxi at the drop-off point in Dublin and we were dropped off in front of Merrion Townhouse bed and breakfast in no time. The rooms and bathrooms were very small, but that is to be expected in a conversion of such an old building. The host was lovely and the breakfast offerings were very good, including a proper french press coffee. Compared to other options in Galway, it was pretty good value. 

Craving a proper meal, we walked to Hooked for some seafood. This was a terrific little family-run restaurant and Erin was thrilled to have some fish and chips made gluten free in a separate frier! I went with a fish taco and some slaw. There was a Spanish spin on this place but I was too full to indulge in some churros for dessert. 

We walked around the city a bit and found the central area to be very touristy and crowded. Uninspired for whatever reason, we stopped at The Secret Garden
for tea and dessert. This was a good choice. It was a packed little place with a cool vibe and a cute stone-walled patio out back. A musician was just setting up as people were gathering around tables and on the floor nearby in anticipation. Had we not been so tired, we would have definitely hung out for a while. But that was to be the end of our first day in Ireland. 

The next morning, I had a very productive business meeting. Wrapping up around 11:00 am, I took an Uber to Ryton and found the address of my great-great-great-great Grandfather!

My driver then brought me to the Blaydon cemetery where I was very pleased to find the headstones I was in search of.

I walked down Shibon road, the presumed site of the family farm, and then to the train station

Here are some videos of my little family history foray:

From the station, I caught a perfectly timed departure to deliver me back to Newcastle in time for a very fun afternoon of lunch, coffee, and tea at Quay Ingredients with Sam, a travel blogger I met on Twitter. She was lovely and we really enjoyed our time chatting. I arrived back to my hotel in time to put my feet up for a few minutes and catch up with family back home. Then I packed a bit for my return journey and got dressed for a cold night at St. James' Park. I had wood-fired pizza nearby at a terrific place built underneath the train bridge to fuel up for the match between Newcastle United and Manchester City. It was a really fun event, with great energy, and unbelievably a win for NUFC! 

And finally, here are a few other scenes to remember my time in Newcastle:

It seemed natural to continue uphill, and I soon arrived at the castle. The light was harsh and the day was young, so I decided to take a spin through the castle. It was an interesting couple hours; I saw the one o'clock gun fire, I read stories of medieval history that made Game of Thrones seem like a documentary, and I saw the Crown Jewels. I looked at the time and the rumblings of my empty stomach convinced me to sit down for a truly underwhelming and overpriced lunch at the restaurant (my only bad meal of the entire trip).

I thought I might have quite a bit more time to wander around after my castle visit, but the sun began dipping quite low to the horizon before I knew it. I proceeded up to Calton Hill as planned. It was a viciously cold wind and it seemed I was growing quite accustomed to adjusting my camera and tripod techniques to accommodated for that. In the end, I got a few nice ones and the sunset was quite intense. I had to count myself quite lucky for the short time and season I was there.

I retired to an Andalusian restaurant for some very nice tapas, followed by desert at another second floor cafe where I meditated the time away until near to my departure time. 

Happy with my morning's activities, I settled in for a breakfast back at the hotel, backed up my photos, and repacked my backpack for a day's adventure in Edinburgh. 

I started with the docks area, in order to scout possible evening photoshoot locations. All these daytime photos were taken with my iPhone XS; it was liberating to walk with only a phone in my pocket, and I was really happy with the quality I was able to achieve with a device that could both help me navigate and take photos.

Next, I walked southeast to the Baltic Triangle. It was an interesting area that looked previously derelict but now quite revitalized in areas. I saw some nice street art along the way:

One of the best, of course, was this one of Jergen Klopp:

At this point, it began raining quite hard and I took refuge in the coffee shop across the street from Klopp. When it relented, I carried along towards the Ropewalks via Chinatown.

I returned to my hotel to pick up my DSLR kit as sunset approached and snapped this photo from the end of the hallway:

Sunset didn't amount to much, so I waited patiently as the light diminished. It became a challenging photoshoot to fight the cold wind gusts and keep the tripod stable. Thankfully, between volume and technique, I ended up with quite a few keepers:

I thoroughly enjoyed the city and the course that followed for the next couple days. The weather degenerated over the rest of my visit and my work stuff kind of took over, so these were the last photos I took:

Here are a few video clips of my time in Liverpool:

St. Pancras

I walked past a coffee shop called Origin on my way across the street. Then I doubled back. What was the hurry after all? So I sat at the window, sipping an espresso with a veggie toastie, slowly acclimating to my new environment. Later, having checked into my hotel and getting cleaned up, I went to a grocery store to pick up some yogurt and bananas for breakfast. 

Then it was off to Camden Market for a meeting. We wrapped up around 8:00, so I found myself back at my hotel quite early. The intelligent thing would be to go to bed. However, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the Thames for a second time. I took the Underground to the London Bridge station, walked along the south bank to Millennium Bridge, and hoped to see the bridge nicely lit up. It was not, so there would be no photo opportunity on this occasion. I crossed the bridge and carried on towards St. Paul's. I quickly found myself in a great perspective with excellent foreground leading lines and lighting. So this is the only DSLR image I have of London on this trip, but I'm quite happy with it:

St. Paul's

The next morning I was off to Liverpool, so I hurried back to repack and turn in for the night.

Videos from each day can be seen HERE

And here are my iPhone snaps:

The next morning, I tried to get some early morning photos but didn't have much luck with the overcast skies. The clean-up along the streets and squares was immense after what must have been quite a Friday night. Workers with garbage and recycling trucks were feverishly trying to make the city look presentable again.

Here is a video recap from Portugal:

Another short Uber ride from the train station brought us to our hotel. After check-in, we set out walking. Porto is a hipster's paradise, with breakfast cereal cafes, eclectic shops, and cool street art; here are some examples of the art we found around the city, big and small:

The nap lasted until 3:30. Disoriented, we collected ourselves and packed a lunch from the grocery store nearby. We set off this time for Belem. As it turned out, this long nap may have been a bit unfortunate because the rain clouds threatened just as we arrived. I managed to get an interesting infrared photo at the riverside but had only one chance because the fisherman started pulling in his lines as the raindrops hastened. We found refuge in a nearby cafe where ice cream and coffee helped us pass the time. Finally, with the clouds looking like they'd never lift, I braved what had suddenly become a torrent and created a makeshift umbrella for my camera as I huddled, cool and increasingly drenched, over my low tripod. Successfully completing a couple photos, I sprinted back to the cafe and we called an Uber to take us back to the train station. Sure enough, just as we were dropped off, the clouds parted and it became quite pleasant again.

Back in Lisbon, we walked from the train station via the Baixa and Chiado districts to the Open Brasserie, recommended for their gluten free options. The service and food was excellent, though the price was a little higher than average. Still, it was a nice way to end the evening.

Here are some iPhone snaps from the day in Lisbon:

And Belem:

We took Uber right from the airport which is quite centrally located by large city standards. It cost 9 Euro for the fare door to door. I think my days of taking public transport from the airport are over. 

After a shower, short nap, and lunch near the hotel, we took the train to Sintra for the evening. A bit hesitant given our late start, we were thrilled we made the trip. We didn't want to waste a moment so we caught an Uber to the Pena Palace right from the train station. The palace and the surrounding grounds were more beautiful in person than the pictures we'd seen online. Walking down via the Valley of the Lakes, Erin commented that it felt like we were walking in a fairy tale. The bird songs were music to our ears after a long Canadian winter.

Taking a taxi back to the town as darkness fell, we wound up in a restaurant called "Metamorphosis" which offered excellent service and good food at a very good price. We then returned to Lisbon confident that we'd made the most of our first afternoon in Portugal.

Here are the photos of the day taken with my SLR:

Then I headed back to my hotel to change and get ready for the big game. I arrived early to greet the team bus and take in the atmosphere. The game was incredible and we came away with an important win. I doubt I'll witness such a spectacle for quite some time.

Afterwards, I met up with Frederic and Anton for a celebratory drink.

And like that, my brief time in Madrid was over. What an experience though!

I went up to the terrace of the Real Academia de Bellas Artes de San Fernando to watch the sunset and night fall over the city. It was cold and windy, but it was a perspective I hadn't seen before. Unfortunately the Palacio de Cibeles was undergoing repair and covered in scaffolding.

Bumper stickers you don't expect to see in Spain:

The next morning, I slept in until around 10:00. I headed straight to the Bernabeu for a tour, which was well worth the line-up and 25 Euro entrance fee.

The trophy rooms were interesting, but it was surreal to see the dressing rooms and stand pitch-side.

St. Peter's Square Over the Tiber Piazza Navona Piazza Navona Fountain Pantheon Trevi Rearview Spanish Steps Colosseum Piazza Venezia Trastevere Street Art Trastevere Prosciutteria

My course started the next day, so I didn't have much time to do any sightseeing. I met up with a Camrose contact, Aaron, for a terrific Italian dinner at Il Blandford's followed by a couple glasses of port at his house. I was back in my hotel at 12:30 am, which was perhaps a little too late for my 8 am start the next day.

The following day (Friday), I went for an evening walk from Waterloo Station across Westminster Bridge, past Parliament, and all the way to Victoria Station.

I took the tube to Notting Hill Station and strolled down Portobello Street. This was probably my biggest evening adventure in terms of mileage.

Saturday night, I went for a more abbreviated trip to the Thames to see Millennium Bridge. Then the weather turned, and I called it an early night with my exam coming up the next morning.

My final day (Sunday) began with the exam for my course at 8:30 am. Afterwards, I went for a nice walk through Kensington Park, Hyde Park, past Buckingham Palace, and along the mall towards Trafalgar Square, past Picadilly Circus to Oxford Circus to catch transit back to my hotel. It was cool, breezy, but quite sunny.

I picked up the direct Heathrow train from Paddington, and that was that! Here are a few video clips from London:

A few hours before, I'd slain the dragon city with a lucky photoshoot from the Neboticnik cafe terrace. Well, I suppose it wasn't just luck. I'd arrived just before sunset, not wanting to loiter for too long. I'd chosen a place near to one of the high bar tables that sat somewhat privately on the southeast corner of the terrace. I'd watched as the couple finally paid their tab and made their way from the table, then slid in amongst their crumbs and crumpled napkins to secure my position. It cost me only two pints on an empty stomach, but I would have paid far more as the overcast sky erupted ethereal rose for twenty, maybe thirty seconds, before fading to the blue that would usher in the night. My tripod perched unobtrusively on the table, positioning my camera over the glass to freeze the moment not only in my mind, but now on my screen:

I entered the bar a few minutes after the start of the match, having stopped first for a dinner of traditional Carniolan sausage, then at the hostel to back up my files from the day. To my memory, it was a welcoming pub, dimly lit of course, with walls of brick and arched doorways granting it an appropriately cave-like feel. There were two rooms sharing the adjacent sides of the bar. The first room was full of traveling Liverpool supporters and local Maribor fans gathering side by side for the Champions League match-up.

I asked for the Real Madrid - Tottenham match, and the accommodating bartender flicked on the TV in the other room for me. There was only one other patron on this side and, pulling a stool up to the counter, I asked for some help deciding between a couple different IPA's. The slim, long-haired young man a couple stools over made his recommendation, which settled the matter for me.

"So what part of the world are you from?" he asked in an accent that could have been my own.

"Canada," I answered. Then realizing he must be American, if not Canadian, quickly added, "Alberta. How 'bout you?"

"You wouldn't know it. Have you heard of Nelson?" 

Count me among the unsurprised.

"South of there, a small town in Washington," he continued. 

For the socially curious, this guy was like that big mysterious Christmas present having an odd shape and a low clunky rattle near the bottom, and couldn't ever be wrapped very neatly, but attracted your fascination more than all the others despite itself.

His slender forearms seemed poorly matched for the heavy glass beer mug frequenting his lips. Under the brim of a dark flat cap was long, stringy brown hair that draped his shoulder blades, and these were punctuated by a long nose and hollow cheeks that made my sister giggle when I told her reminded me of Niccolo Paganini. My wife, the hygienist, would have been drawn immediately to the periodontal situation revealed by his kind and nervous smile. This was a guy with a back-story.

We chatted back and forth casually as I looked down from the soccer game at times. He didn't have any interest in the match, and had moved into the quieter side of the bar after discovering he was too tall for the Liverpool guys to see over. It was obvious that Ljubljana meant something to him, since it would take anyone in their early thirties a fair bit of commitment to visit the same European city a half dozen times. It had been eight years since his last visit, however, and I got the sense it was a long anticipated return. "This is my city," was one of his comments.

"So where are you staying?" I asked. 

I think he was staying eight or ten days, so it made sense that he had rented an apartment. It's a great way to feel more connected to life in the city and reduce the restaurant tab at the same time.

"That works out nicely for you I'm sure," I replied. "That way you can cook your own meals."

"Yeah," he stated, "it would be, but I can't eat solid food."

It took me moment to step into the bear trap because he said it so casually and I was on my fourth beer, but ultimately I did take the bait. "What do you mean, you can't eat solid food?"

"In the ulcerating silence perspective comes. The way it always does for it's ransom" (The Tragically Hip: A Beautiful Thing).

He put his head down, and muttered, "I really don't like to talk about it, but I have a condition that's... well... it's going to kill me." He said it with such resignation. "I really should have a feeding tube."

I didn't muster much in return, other than a meek, "Gee, I'm really sorry to hear that."

I let the awkwardness linger for a bit, eyes drifting upwards to the football pitch, searching for some distraction. In the moments that followed, the beer mug two seats over bore witness to some deep, lonely sorrow. I can't imagine the story behind those tears. I wonder who he was texting with those long, shaky fingers.

"Long conversation or idle chit chat, maybe dive in or maybe hang back[?]" (The Tragically Hip: Escape is at Hand for the Traveling Man). We chatted a little more over the hour that followed. Neither about his condition, nor anything else of importance. I'm left with a hint of regret, unsure whether I ever did choose the right words or strike the right balance of distance and intimacy. When it was time to go, he got up and uttered that phrase, "Well, off I go, into the night." And that was it. I pictured him walking the vacant cobblestone alleys alone, lost in that slightly inebriated nostalgic sorrow that inhales treasured familiarity and exhales a final farewell.

Early next morning, as I pulled on the blue Tragically Hip t-shirt I'd bought at their final Edmonton concert, I scrolled my Facebook feed for the news of the day. Gord Downie had died. It was an interesting coincidence to be sure; I hadn't worn that shirt in months. 

Gord's final months were punctuated by headlines centred around the legacy of a Canadian music icon as he tirelessly championed reconciliation with Indigenous communities, love, and equality. His death made top headlines in every Canadian news service. Meanwhile, how many other individuals were grappling with the same challenges of impending mortality unnoticed in basement pubs, homes, churches, and hospitals around the world? 

There's a lot to un-pack here, and I don't really know where to start. Of course, there's the obvious lesson driven home: no time like the present. Another theme I keep returning to is, "how do we say goodbye?" The Hip lyric "Now the struggle has a name" takes on additional context (beyond the "Truth and Reconciliation" theme) when our final challenge is known. But should our actions be influenced by the "named struggle?" In a purposeful life it wouldn't make a difference, because our actions would always be made in light of our mortality. 

We generally don't do goodbyes very well. However, we need the closure of saying goodbye. We see this in the elderly who seem to have an uncanny ability to hold on until they have a chance to see or hear that last special loved one. But I've also been thinking about the smaller goodbyes in life: moving away, bidding farewell to friends, and even returning home from an endearing city like Ljubljana. I'm reminded of the time I turned the wheels north on I-35 from Belt Line Road, instead of the usual south, as I began my journey back to Alberta from Dallas. I think about the wonderful, generous people I knew in those days before Facebook allowed for easy ongoing casual contact; saying "goodbye" really meant it in those days. There are some people I wish I'd said a better "goodbye" to. What if I'd released from an embrace, looked a person in the eyes and said "Have a good life" with absolute sincerity? And while our relationships with people as they cast themselves in and out of our life's script hold great importance to us, so do our relationships with places and things. I think about our first house, the memories created there, and how it looked as I closed the door the last time. I remember the places in the world that continue tug at my heart, like South Africa, Spain, and Slovenia. I'm often asked after a trip if I'll go back, and I generally say "no," regardless of how much I loved the place. There are just too many gifts in this world to unwrap and I'm truly skeptical if a return trip would ever live up to the original as it's painted in my mind.

So how do we say goodbye to these places? For me, photography is the typical way I connect with a place. When in a city, I like to scout a location with a great perspective, arrive half an hour before sunset, watch the steepening angle of light reduce to the point of a sunstar on my camera sensor, and stay until the sky turns blue and the true energy and character of a city is revealed in the glow of the streetlights. Hopefully, this creates some great images, but it also imprints an experience. My photoshoot in Ljubljana from the skyscraper was one of these moments. Could it be that a really great "goodbye" is about intentionally creating the moment you want to remember? We recently watched Shakespeare in Love again, and I was reminded of how great the ending was; William wrote the ending that he wanted to exist, in all its joyous sorrow, which allowed his fantasy to triumph over reality. So long as I never return to Ljubljana, the fantasy that I've written about it can remain true. 

Gord was the author of his last act, which was played out on a national stage in a beautiful ritual of bidding farewell to his country, his fans, his band, his Chanie "Wenjacks," and more privately, his family and friends. The sincere "goodbye" at the end of each concert of the tour was proud, joyous, and above all, distinctly final. He had the look of a man relishing his living wake, wanting to press pause on the moment, to drink in every detail and preserve it eternally. So notable was his bravery, that he went outside himself to leave a generous mark on those who admired and loved him. He worked tirelessly until the end to push the Indigenous affairs agenda so dear to his heart. This was a man who wanted to leave a legacy; not for his own sake, but for the benefit of those left behind. Perhaps the glioblastoma added an element of urgency to the last several months; there was a need to compress the pace and trajectory of a life's mission.

"O' for a good life, we just might have to weaken; And find somewhere to go; Go somewhere we're needed; Find somewhere to grow; Grow somewhere were needed" (The Tragically Hip: It's a Good Life if You Don't Weaken).

Now picture my friend in the pub. Why did he go to Slovenia? He'd been several times before, so this wasn't a "bucket list" pursuit. He wasn't seeking something novel; he talked about visiting all his "old haunts." Is Ljubljana, then, a place where he found meaning, or at least was connected to by a strong feeling of nostalgia? I find nostalgia to be an interesting topic, perhaps because I'm a bit inclined that way. It is a therapeutic paradox; the yearning for something familiar but impossible, an un-scratchable itch that is itself more satisfying than if the itch was actually scratched. I believe my identity is rooted in such things. We saw Gord's identity defined publicly in the people places, and things that adorned the last months of his life. In this fellow's more private journey, I really don't know the rest of the story other than Ljubljana was one of those places for him. While the impression that Gord left behind is undeniable, somehow more personally profound is this odd interfacing with a stranger in a basement pub in Ljubljana. So regardless of whatever legacy this person will ultimately leave behind in the circles he travelled, I thought I owed him a few words as tribute. Whether or not he set out to make the last days, months, or years of his life count for others, he did manage to do something profound in my life. He's not someone I'll ever forget; each time I think about my surreal few days in Slovenia, I'll be reminded of these meandering thoughts of nostalgia and goodbyes, whether my struggle be near or far.

Here's a video of my trip, full of nostalgia:

I navigated successfully to the Europcar return, then stepped across the street into my hostel. After cleaning up, I went for a walkabout.

As sunset approached, I went up to the Neboticnik cafe and sat down for a pint of terrific local craft IPA. I snapped up a high bar table in the corner the moment a pair vacated it, and waited for my moment. Suddenly the sky erupted in pink, for mere moments, and after a flourish it was gone. But I have proof:

With my victory images in hand, I toasted the images with another pint and weaved my way down the charming streets on an empty stomach to find a restaurant. I got replenished with a nice traditional sausage meal and a truly awful ale, then headed back to the still-empty hostel to get squared away.

I wandered around the corner to an Irish pub for a final pint and to watch the Real Madrid v. Tottenham match. It was while chatting with a very slim young American at the bar that I stepped into quite a bear trap. Somehow he dropped the comment that he couldn't eat solid food. But I saw him drinking a beer. So I took the bait. It turns out he was on a trail of tears, visiting one of his favourite cities, before whatever condition he was suffering from ultimately took his life.

I have some more thoughts on this interaction, which perhaps I'll flesh out when I get a bit more time. So in an effort to post this quickly and head out to dinner, I'll put that on hold (as well as my thoughts on traveling Liverpool supporters). 

I made quick time to the border via the tollway from Bled. I stopped briefly along the way for groceries (ie. breakfast on the go), and then again at Koper in order to check my bearings on Google Maps on my phone. Thanks, McDonald's, for the use of your bathroom. 

The border crossing was quick. No questions were asked by agents for either country. I took the beautiful windy roads through northern Croatia to find a hilltop town called Motovun. I'd heard it was one of the nicest examples in Istria. The drive itself was thrilling as the road snaked up and over the hills. At the bottom of the hill approaching the town, you can pay for parking and drive up to one of the nearer parking lots outside the city walls. They take only local currency here; no credit cards. 

The town was lovely and the streets were lined with shops. It had a slight tourist trap feel to it, but not extremely tacky. As the weather warmed up to around 25 degrees and I realized I was in no hurry to get anywhere else, I slowed my pace. After a late lunch at the car, I headed onward to Rovinj. The drive was short but I grew quite tired. I pulled into a pay-for-parking lot with the old town in view, rolled the windows down, and smelled the amazing sea air. This is not a smell I'm accustomed to, and it screams 'vacation!'

I gathered some energy and searched some online forums (thank goodness for mobile technology), striking upon a free parking lot within walking distance to the old town, and moved the car there with the help of Google Maps (distracted driving - guilty).

This seaside city was bustling with people enjoying the many cafes and restaurants that bordered the harbour. It was a hot day, but waves of fog blew over the city and created some wonderful photo moments even before magic hour began. As I was watching the tower seemingly rippling with fire as it cut the fast-moving fog, a woman commented that she had visited Rovinj for 20 years and never seen such a thing. As darkness made its slow approach, I waited and waited until the right moment to take my final images, drinking in the view while fishermen tried their luck from the dock. Each passing moment would delay my return to Piran, but I told myself, "I'll only be here once, see it through!"

I made a fairly direct and easy return to Slovenia via the tollway and arrived quite tired to Hotel Piran, though very happy with the extent of my day's adventure to Croatia. 

One of the first things I noticed on this sunny Sunday morning, was the number of people riding bikes. And not those urban bicycles you see everywhere in Holland, but proper road bikes, and people logging some serious km's. Another observation is that if the speed limit is 60 and you aren't going at least 80, you're holding up traffic. Which is difficult when you're also trying to navigate!

I then headed for the city of Skofja Loka to locate a couple viewpoints I'd tagged on Google Street View. Success! I was slightly unsure of my parking choices here but given that it was Sunday I thought perhaps things weren't enforced.

The Capuchin Bridge was built in the 14th century and leads from the monastery that bears its name. In the calm, sunny conditions I tried shooting some photos with an infrared filter. In the image that follows, I layered it with another identical image taken without the filter, and blended the colour into the infrared layer.

It was after Skofja Loka that my drive really got interesting. The roads twisted and turned up the mountains with one hair-raising hairpin after the next. It was simply stunning with the autumn colours as I passed Jamnik (the panorama) and Kropa en route to Bled.

I found my B&B (Rooms Jerman - recommended!) at 17:00. After a hurried check-in, I dashed for the vantage point overlooking Lake Bled, hoping to catch the sunset. It was more of a legitimate hike than I expected, though relatively short. At the top, I met two boys covered head to toe in mud and walking barefoot. Their parents explained that it was good for their growing feet to develop strength and touch, able to feel the earth as they walk. I couldn't agree more! Before we all began our hike down in the dark, we took this picture:

I paused on the lakeshore for another photo, then sat in the first restaurant I came across for supper, around 20:00. I retired to the B&B to deal with the plethora of images I'd taken from the day.

The next morning, I made a rather hasty farewell from Bled because I wanted to spend the day in the Istrian region of Croatia. I took these photos on the way out of Bled:

I worked most of the day, wrapping up at 4:00 or so in order to drive to Calgary and catch a direct flight to London. The QE2 was shut down for an accident around Crossfield, and the radio told of power outages at the International Terminal at YYC, but by the time arrived at both sites, the delays had been fortunately dealt with. Having time to spare, I decompressed with a pumpkin chai latte in the shiny and vacant departure lounge as my 9:45 boarding time approached. 

Despite being at the very back of the bus, I have to commend British Airways for pleasant service, standard food offerings, and better than average entertainment selections. Being next to the washrooms and galley resulted in only a couple hours of sleep, and the very long queue at border control was not particularly welcome. I grabbed a bite at the convenience store on the other side of security, and navigated easily to the Underground station. A lengthy commute on the Picadilly Line followed, switching at Green Park and arriving at London Bridge Station. I found myself at The Shard with 45 minutes to spare before my entry time, and after a bit of wandering found myself at this lovely market:

Finding a couple fresh items to snack on, I returned to The Shard and waited for an eternity for blue hour, since the overcast skies did not break up enough to enjoy a sunset. 

It was a lovely view, but pricey and very, very busy on a Saturday evening. With my backpack and travel attire, I felt like a hobo compared to some of the well-dressed patrons enjoying cocktails.

I then walked across Tower Bridge, capturing these photos, before hiking all the way to Blackfriars Station.

By this time, it was after 20:00 and I was starving. I found a nice little Mexican restaurant near to the station, and had my first proper meal since Friday lunch.

I caught the train to Luton, on to the shuttle, and finally to the Holiday Inn Express at 22:00. Here I sit in the departure lounge at Luton after a 4:00 wake-up, thankful I upgraded to priority boarding and emergency row seats for my upcoming 2 hour flight.

What followed was a fun little adventure to Sarpsborg. I had a care package to deliver to a friend's relative in that city. Thanks to Google Maps on my smartphone, I made it to Sondre's house where he lives with his family. It was a beautiful home, decorated like a Christmas dollhouse. We chatted over delicious pastry and coffee before going on a tour of the family's bakery, which first opened in 1930! I learned a lot about the process and their hospitality was much appreciated.

I made it back before too late. Here is a picture of the church next to the Moss Hotel.

I picked up some food for supper at a local grocery store, ate in my hotel room, and went out for a walk in the increasing drizzle.

I then arrived in Oslo after a short flight, picked up my rental car, and successfully navigated in the dark rain to my hotel in Moss, about 1.5 hours with detours.

Afterwards, we went up to Noe Valley to have a nice dinner in a restaurant called Firefly. It did not disappoint.

After tiring of walking around, I got a Uber ride to Marshall's Beach, where I watched the sunset over the Pacific and the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge.

The return to the airport hotel was long via public transit, but in all it was a successful day touring the city.

Blackstone River Angelcomb Reflection The Hunter Glassing the Hills Mt. Boyle Summit Ridge Boyle Ridge Going North Ogilvie Panorama Ogilvie Range Monochrome Yukon Gold Blackstone Fading Angelcomb Sunrise The Leading Edge The Cloudy Range Colors of the Klondike Cloaked Monolith North Klondike Valley Panorama

We had a smooth start to the train station in Toledo after dropping off the car at the Europcar office. The train was pleasant and soon arrived in the heart of Madrid. We navigated to our hotel and made a plan to see the city on foot.

And here are some photos with the big camera:

Here is a video with some clips from the trip:

The drive to Toledo meant 3.5 hours on the Autovia through wine country. There were innumerable abandoned farmhouses which we hypothesized had lost their occupancy through the consolidation of farmland into wealthy hands. Toledo: What is there to say? The place is a marvel. We stayed at the Parador with a commanding view of the city, and had an exemplary meal at Restaurante Alfiterios 24 inside the old city.

Alicante has a bit of everything: shopping, cuisine, nightlife, markets, and a great beach. It was a bit more cosmopolitan and lacked the white-washed appearance of the Andalusian towns we'd become accustomed to. The weather was great; 23 degrees and sunny.

Leaving the Generalife gardens and exploring the rest of the palace grounds:

Before we had our scheduled tour of the Nasrid Palaces, we had the most exceptional lunch at El Trasgu, recommended for their gluten free accommodation, and they did not disappoint. It was the best meal we had thus far.    

Next came our tour through the Nasrid Palaces, which were superlative.

So after this long, warm day got started, we struck off towards Alicante.

We then drove directly to Granada. The freeway ascended next to the high Sierra Nevada range, home to Las Alpujarras UNESCO heritage site. En route, Erin read this fascinating article about vegetable and fruit production in the Almeria region. Yes, I'm serious -- it's worth a read.

Finding our hotel easily thanks to the greatness of Google Maps and cheap data, we were lucky to be checked in early, before noon, and we took off on foot. I think we walked every street in the city! I found it interesting that very few people in Granada spoke English compared to Nerja. This led to an entertaining Tapas experience for lunch, where the chef, waiter, and owner bent over backwards to provide Erin a satisfactory "sin gluten" meal. I'm happy to say they were successful. I put a Canadian quarter on the tray with the rest of their tip, resulting in some excitement on their part.

We voluntarily subjected ourselves to the Bib Rambla market district, full of Moroccan merchandise, typically made in Nepal.

Here we are climbing through El Albaicin up to the Mirador San Nicolas.

This is the fabulous view from the top:

And a few more photos as night fell on the city: