Collecting seashells…Returning them to nature…Is it legal to collected coral in Australia?

Here are the laws regarding collecting any pieces of coral in Australia.

Over these past few years, we’ve walked the sands of numerous beaches throughout the world looking forward to many more beach walks in years to come. As we’ve walked our eyes have wandered from dreamily looking out to the sea to watching our step when an occasional branch or stick obstructed the path.

The Aztec type lines in this shell are amazing.

As we’ve walked we often looked down for seashells, often disappointed in never finding a single shell of any particular interest. Most were broken and already picked over from decades of tourists and locals walking those same beaches.

We found this coral in the bowl in the house. 
This shell has a rough exterior.

Here in Australia, after visiting many beaches so far we’ve been amazed by the number of shells we’ve collected. Are the beaches here all that less populated and visited by tourists? Also, we discovered some exquisite shells in a bowl here in our home. 

This shell appears to have an eye looking at us.

When we think of collecting seashells we often think of children sifting through the sand for that special find.  But, with our passionate relationship with nature, we’ve found ourselves picking through the sand with the enthusiasm of a child as we slipped one shell after another into our pockets to share here with our readers today.

This, found in the bowl in the house is quite unusual.

Few of the shells we encountered were broken and as we’ve continued on we realized we could easily have gathered hundreds, if not thousands of beautiful shells during this short period of time on our frequent visits to the half dozen or so beaches in the immediate area.

This shell is an exciting find.

Growing up in California I spent many sunny days at the beach. Then, it was easy to take the shells on the beach for granted when often stepping one could result in a tiny yet painful cut. 

This shell stood alone for its unique texture and color.

However, on occasion, a special shell would be kept as a memento of a good day at the beach often wishing I had a way to make a little hole in the shell to fashion it into a necklace with a thin gold chain.  n those days children were to “be seen but not heard” and asking my overworked father or angst-ridden mother for assistance was unthinkable. 

The smallest in this group is most intriguing.
The variance in color makes the shells, particularly interesting to find.

It remained a frivolous interest in the 1950s compared to my desire for a Barbie Doll which I never owned until girlfriends gave me one as a gift for my 40th birthday. I was thrilled as much then as I would have been at 10 years old. 

This is one of the larger shells we discovered.

Now, as we inspect the seashells we wonder what little creature dwelled therein, how long it survived, and why it left its shell behind. Below is the information, although simple, as to how seashells are created.

These three are definitely similar.
“Where do seashells come from? Seashells are the external skeletons of a class of marine animals called Mollusks. Where people have our skeletons on the inside of our bodies, mollusks have theirs on the outside of theirs. This way they help protect the creatures from predators, strong currents, and storms, help camouflage the animal and do many other things. Seashells are primarily made of calcium, a hard mineral, as our own bones are.
Speckled shell in varying shades of browns and gray.

“Marine” means having to do with the ocean — in this case, it means the animals live in seawater, in one of the world’s oceans.

When a mollusk dies, its shell is left behind, just as land animals leave their skeletons behind. Sometimes the shell is taken and used as a home by other sea creatures, such as hermit crabs. When a hermit crab outgrows the shell it has borrowed, it abandons it and finds a larger one to use.

Smoother exteriors on these shells.

Mollusks are divided into many types, but the two major ones are bivalves and univalves. These names are derived from Latin words, where “Bi” means “two” — which we see in words like “bicycles” (two wheels) and “bipeds” (animals that walk on two legs). “Uni” means “one” — for example the word “unicycle” which means it has just one wheel.

This shell appears to have a small round bead attached.

So bivalves are mollusks that have two shell halves that form a whole shell. Examples would be clams and oysters. Most mollusks are bivalves.

It’s colorful on the edges.

Univalves just have a one-piece shell, usually a spiral-type shell, often looking something like a larger, stronger, and more elaborate snail’s shell. Examples of univalves would be conch, whelks, nautilus, and similar shells.

Two of these shells had openings on the opposite side.

After the animal that created the seashell dies, the shell often washes up onto the shore or remains in the tide pool where the creature lived. Sometimes other creatures such as small hermit crabs then take the empty shell and use it as their home.”

This shell has a pearl or abalone type exterior.
These shells all had a  similar grayish tone.

Identifying all of the shells we collected and are showing today and their technical species names would take time sorting through hundreds of possibilities. We share them for their beauty and the possible story held therein that we can only imagine. For those of you interested in more technical details, please click here.

Most of the shells were smaller than a ping pong ball.

Today, we’ll return our shells to the beach where they belong, perhaps leaving them for someone else to find and treasure.

Plain white shells.
We grouped these together for their similar coloration.

Have a day filled with wonders!  We’re taking off for Cairns today and will be back with many new photos tomorrow.

                                             Photo from one year ago today, July 15, 2014:

One year ago today we were on our way for a boat ride in Funchal hoping to see whales up close and personal. Although we’ve been on several such boat rides, we’ve yet to see a whale up close. We’ll keep trying. These beautiful Alstroemeria were growing in our yard in Madeira. For details from that post, please click here.

A drive in the mountains…Surprising finds!…

This plant made me squeal with delight. Tom laughs at me and happily maneuvers the car for a better view.

Yesterday, after posting here, we decided to go for another drive on the endless roads in these mountains. One can go any which way, ending up at a dead-end or going on into what seems to be infinity.

The ocean is behind this old vine-covered garage.

Little did we know that we’d encounter so many new-to-us treasures of which this island has many. What a place! Without a doubt, the roads, turns, and views may appear repetitive. But, when driving through the hills each hairpin turn brings a new experience our way. When possible, Tom finds a spot to pull over enabling me to take photos. 

There is Ms. Goat posing for a photo as we drove by as she munched on vegetation.

In some cases, I have no choice but to take photos from inside the car while on the move when cars are behind us and there’s no shoulder or if it’s simply too dangerous to stop which is most often the case on the narrow winding steep roads.

This black goat was munching while tied up on a hill.  Goats are often tied up to prevent them from wandering off with few fences anywhere in the area.  Next door to us, the mom goat stays tied up but the two kids aren’t, as they naturally stay close to their mom at all times.

When we think back to a year ago when we moved to Boveglio, Tuscany, Italy, and the terrifying roads, we’ve come a long way. Tom has mastered driving in these mountainous roads and I’m no longer frightened. 

We discovered many homes covered in vines growing prolifically in this ideal weather.

If I can keep my eyes straight ahead looking out the windshield as opposed to the side window, I can keep the possibility of motion sickness at bay. It’s hard to do when I’m a wild woman seeing one thing after another, eyes darting every which way. “They,” say eye movement effects motion sickness more than any other factor.  Somehow, I’m able to keep any queasiness in check.

We share today’s photos with much enthusiasm. With so many taken, we’ll continue to share more over the next several days. 

Grapes are growing everywhere.  Madeira is known for its wine including the popular pink Madeira wine many of us drank in the ’70s and ’80s. 

Perhaps our enthusiasm isn’t warranted by some. A photo of a plant, a tree, a goat? So what? For us, nature is the basis of our travels, and at times it’s hard to contain our excitement. Based on our readership, we’re making the assumption that most of our readers also find some pleasure in our simple finds. 

As we crossed a bridge, I was able to get out of the car to see this creek.

If nature is not your preference, please bear with us. We’ll be in Paris in 41 days and London a few weeks later.  We’ll have plenty of photos of buildings, art, history, food, and the magic of both amazing cities. Although nature is our primary objective, we could hardly travel the world and miss these two major cities or any of the other big cities we’ve visited in the past and will again in the future.

This is the bush from which I took the shot of the flower in the following photo. Love this!

At the end of our self-tour, we headed to the little market for a few groceries which we actually enjoy. The quaint market where no one speaks a word of English is enchanting, the prices are no more than the supermarket in Ribeira Brava and surprisingly we are able to find many items we need. Soon, we’ll make a trip to the big supermarket for items that are unavailable locally.

 I couldn’t get a perfect shot of this flower while we were on the move but it was fun to see.

Having not dined out in weeks when we’ve enjoyed our home-cooked meals, tonight we’re going to dine out in a restaurant up the road (literally, “up”) from here. We’ll report back with food photos, prices, and our general experience. It’s a restaurant Gina showed us how to find that has great reviews on Trip Advisor.

The terraced farms and gardens planted in even squares and rectangles cover the hills.

Today, we’ll be back at work to find where we’ll live for our first 89 days in Australia. Prices are extremely high, especially when our main criteria is to be close to the ocean, preferably with a view.

Another important factor is the weather in Australia when the seasons are opposite of the northern hemisphere.  Northern Australia’s temperate winter weather (winter starts in June) will be ideal when our ship arrives on June 11, 2015, one year away. In December, it would be too hot in the north.

An old boarded-up house, uncommon on the island.

We definitely need to book something shortly. As we see from the many vacation rental sites we use, the properties are booking well into 2015. Our search is none too early.

Have a fabulous weekend. We’ll be back tomorrow with more news and photos from our drive.
                                                        _________________________

Photo from one year ago today, June 21, 2013:

As much as we loved the charm and romance of moving into a 300-year-old stone house in Tuscany, Italy, we had to face some obstacles not uncommon in these old houses. This was the stairway to the lower level in order to get to the front door. To the left was the step up onto the veranda where we hung the laundry to dry, tended to the box garden, and spent time outdoors.  Stepping up onto the veranda from this stairway was tricky, definitely not for those unsteady on their feet. Falling could be life-threatening. We were extremely careful each and every time. For details of this and other obstacles in the old house, please click here.

Nights in Madeira…Breathtaking!…A new day…whew….Hello, Madeira!…

This is the nighttime view from our veranda! Tom said it looks like Las Vegas with all the lights. Not quite. These street lights stay on all night on the entire island.  This must be quite the view from a ship. Soon, we’ll take another nighttime photo when the stars are shining bright, but last night was cloudy.

This morning I awoke to a new day after a 12-day illness. I reminded myself of a goofy little dog we adored for 12 years who passed away five years ago, Ben. 

Each time we gave him a bath we washed his often troublesome “poopy butt,” a common affliction of little dogs after which he’d run around the house as fast as he could, excited to be free of his tangled butt. He was happy.

Last night, our living room. The lights cast a cozy glow.

This morning I awoke with a desire to run around the house like Ben, happy to be feeling better from the recent illness, not from being free of a tangled butt. Finally, the splitting headache and heaviness in my head are almost gone along with the glassy eyes, dizziness, and general feeling of malaise. Yeah!

Of course, the tendency is to go wild doing everything we’ve missed since we arrived in Madeira 11 days ago. But, I’ll be wise and gradually increase my level of activity building back my strength and stamina, sorely missing after days of being sick.

This morning’s view of the sea with white caps as the wind whistled through the hills.

Last night, we’d intended to dine out only for me to change my mind at the last minute when I couldn’t muster enough energy to go out. We ended up making a meal of scrambled eggs with Portuguese sausage, onions, mushrooms, and cheese with a side of green beans and salad. 

Late this afternoon, we’ll head to Ribeira Brava to walk along the boardwalk, peer into the windows of the shops and later try another restaurant. We’re both excited to get out, see the local “flavor,” take photos, and experience more delicious Portuguese food.

A freighter passing by.

Over the past several days, we’ve been planning our future travels when all of our reservations run out on May 15, 2015, a year from now. It’s hard to believe that with all of the advance planning that we’re less than a year away from the end of our bookings.

Now is the time to begin booking well into 2016 when many of the great vacation homes getting booked well in advance. Many have asked why we don’t “wing it” and wait until closer to our travel dates. The answer is clear to us.

What appeared to be a pleasure boat pulling a smaller boat.

We’ve learned that the best-priced vacation homes get booked well in advance. If we waited, we may end up paying more than we’d prefer or unable to find what we’d like for the quality we’d like at an affordable price. As it’s turned out, the planning well in advance has worked out well barring a few locations that weren’t necessarily ideal.

Our bedroom is above these heavy sliding doors with its own small veranda.

Hopefully, today or tomorrow we’ll wrap up the beginning of our planning beyond May 15, 2015, which we’ll share with you as each booking occurs. We’ve spent hours of discussions and researching our options as to where we’d like to go next. 

Gladiolus on the veranda a few days ago.

We take these decisions seriously to ensure we will be making the correct choices, now well-armed with experience and, most of all, knowing what appeals to each of us, the most. We feel confident we’re making the right decisions after many months of research.

Tomorrow, we’ll be back with photos of today’s outing. See you then!

This morning, the gladiolus in full bloom. 

                                    _________________________________________________

Photo from approximately one year ago today, May 27, 2013:

With no story or photos posted on May 27, 2013, here is a photo of one of the jeweled (real jewels!) chandeliers in the Sheikh Zayed Mosque that we visited on May 29, 2013, for which we posted photos on May 30th. More will follow in days to come. No link is available for this date.

An unreal story we never told from our time in South Africa….Newspaper story we posted one year ago today…

Still wanting to post photos after our “staying in” weekend, we walked the steep steps to the rooftop for the following shots. That’s our laundry on the clothesline which Madame washes every few days.

We hope all of our Easter observing readers had a wonderful day.  Staying indoors due to the crowds, we enjoyed another excellent Madame Zahra made Moroccan dinner minus the spices. After dinner we watched another good good movie, “The Railway Man,” worth viewing.

Hopefully today, the spring break and Easter weekend crowds will thin out and we’ll head out to the souk and Big Square for a hearty much-needed walk and dinner at one of our few favorite restaurants. We’ve exhausted all our dining options in the Medina serving non-spicy foods that Tom will eat, although I continue to order an occasional spicy tagine.

The newer model washer is located in a closet on the rooftop which we hadn’t noticed until yesterday.

As for the story we never told of a situation that occurred in South Africa, it’s not an uncommon story in certain parts of the world. Why didn’t we tell the story at that time? I suppose, we didn’t feel comfortable sharing anything negative about a country we love in so many ways while we were living there.

As time has passed, we’ve come to realize that it’s important to share this story for other travelers should they encounter similar circumstances along the way. Please understand, the telling of this story in no way diminishes our views of the wonders of South Africa or its people. 

Of the dozens of countries we’ve visited thus far, South Africa will remain in our hearts forever, which we long to visit again someday in our travels. This story is not a reflection of the people of South Africa in general, only a fraction of its society that angers and frustrates its countrymen as it did us. Here we go!

It was a beautiful day yesterday, although so windy that the plants inside the courtyard two floors below were moving in the wind.

It was January 18, 2014.  We were driving a rental car, returning from our delightful three-day stay at the Blyde River Canyon Lodge in the Blyde River area of Limpopo, South Africa. We’d had a glorious three days, but we were equally excited to return to Marloth Park to see the animals and our friends.  What a fabulous feeling, leaving one amazing place to return to an even more amazing place. We were on Cloud 9 to say the least. 

First, we were on our way to the airport in Nelspruit to return the rental car after one month’s use when the rental car company refused to extend our contract for the same rate they had charged for the first month. 

Look at that blue sky!

As a result, we decided, rather than sign up for a similar deal at another rental car company, we’d to have Okee Dokee drive us around for our remaining time in Marloth Park.  She’d captured our hearts and we decided that we’d rather put money in her pocket than a rental car company with its outrageous fees. 

We’d coordinated the trip to Blyde River to coincide with the date we were required to return the rental car. We began the drive down the mountain to make our way to the airport where Okee Dokee would meet us for the 90 minute drive back to Marloth Park. 

The household staff regularly water to plants on the rooftop as well as in the courtyard.

About an hour out of Blyde River Canyon, Tom was moving along the well-paved roads at a good clip, when suddenly a policeman stepped out onto the road signaling us to stop.

What could possibly be wrong? The first thought that entered my mind was the possibility of a customary passport check. Tom thought otherwise, suspicious that we were being stopped at the foot of a long hill where many lowering speed limit signs were posted in rapid succession.

Tom was hanging out with me on the rooftop as I shot these photos.

Tom immediately handed him our passports, waiting to see what he wanted. The cop kept asking, “When is your flight?” The reason for this question, Tom surmised, was to determine how desperate we were, the shorter the time to our flight, the more it was going to “cost us.”

Tom explained we didn’t have to fly anywhere that day and we were staying in South Africa until February 28th. Again, the cop asked, “What time is your flight?” 

Holding the camera over the high wall of the rooftop (over my head) I shot this photo of the sheltered roof of a riad next door.

When again, Tom explained that we had no flight to catch, he cop said we were being “ticketed” for speeding without providing any specifics. He had no ticket book in hand.

He proceed to explain that we’d have to go back to the nearest town to the police station to pay the fine. Still, no ticket was presented. The drive back to that town was 45 minutes each way and there was no way in the world we were going back there. 

A man in his gazebo on the roof of an adjoining house.

Okee Dokee was already on her way from Marloth Park to pick us up at the airport. Even if she hadn’t been, there was still no way we were going to drive an extra 90 minutes, spending what may have proved to been several hours in order to pay an arbitrary fine.

But, we also knew there was no way were we taking the risk of getting into a verbal altercation with the cop which could potentially get us arrested.

The little grill Madame uses when she cooks the grilled chicken on the roof.  We seldom request it since we don’t want her to have to go up there to cook.

Diplomatically, I interjected, “What would it take to avoid us going back to the police station in Hoedspruit?”

The cop paused for only a second, making a feeble attempt to make it appear as if he had no plan in mind, “Four hundred Rand,” he blurts out.

I nudged Tom whispering, “Give him the 400 Rand and let’s get out of here!”

Tom pulled out the bills while I asked facetiously, “Can we have a receipt to prove we’ve paid?”

We also discovered the water storage tanks which are hooked up to the city water supply.  We use bottled water for drinking and brushing our teeth.

The cop grumbled, “No receipt!” 

Tom was furious. It wasn’t the amount of money at US $38.09 that frosted him. It was the fact that it was a bribe. Plain and simple. 

Slowly, he pulled out back onto the road as I watched the cop put the money in his pocket his eye on us  as we drive away, perhaps looking for another “supposed” infraction.

The hot water heater is also located in a closet on the rooftop level.

When we retold this story to our Marloth Park friends, they said we should have negotiated the 400 rand down to 200 rand. But, under the circumstances, being our first “bribery” experience, we’d decided to not push our luck and be done with it. 

With this experience behind us, would we act any differently if this happened again? I don’t think so. The possibility of being arrested in a foreign county is frightening enough. 

We wished we could see over the tall wall.

Was Tom speeding?  Possibly, a small amount over the speed limit as a result of coming down the steep road.  Is that an excuse? Not at all. Were we handed a paper ticket to pay on the spot, we’d have put our tail between our legs and paid, lesson learned. 

None of us know what situations we’ll encounter when traveling outside our home country or at times, in our home country. There are many risks that we both take seriously every time we walk out the door. 

This decorator item is on the wall in the landing of the third floor.

I no longer carry a purse or wallet, keeping only a lipstick in my pocket. Tom secures his wallet with little cash in zipped and hard to reach pockets.  We each have our own credit cards should one of us be ripped off, we’d still have credit cards we can use while others were being replaced.

Each time we head out, we’re on alert for potential situations such as this. We realize and suspect that had Tom not been speeding, we could easily have been stopped anyway when no evidence of speeding was presented to us.

The steps on this brick stairway from the third to the second floor, are uneven with many of them very deep.  It surprises us how Madame Zahra easily navigates them several times each day when I gingerly make my way down.

From that point on we observed similar police “setups” at the foot of every hill, wondering who’d be their next target. Not us. We crawled the rest of the way.

So, there’s our first bribery story. It may not be our last. We carry on with the hope that we can avoid these types of situations in the future. Although, we accept the fact that nothing we can ever do or plan will make us exempt from experiencing situations such as this.

Happy Monday to all. Have a good day!

                                              ______________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 21, 2013:

All these prior photos were taken with the inexpensive Samsung camera resulting in less than ideal photos. This was the view overlooking one of the dining areas on the Norwegian Epic a few days before the storm. For details of the story from that date, please click here.

The story we posted one year ago today:

http://www.chanvillager.com/news/world-travelers-living-the-dream/article_8dbde70d-1b61-5488-b13f-7077dc4251b6.html#user-comment-area

Meeting people, not easy in Marrakech…

Yesterday, as we walked to a restaurant, we wondered why the souk was less busy than usual.

There’s nothing, per se, wrong with Marrakech that would inhibit an opportunity to make friends over the long haul.  For us, with a short two and a half month visit, almost half over, the likelihood is slim. 

Marrakech is a city of busy locals serving the needs of the tourist, trade, and the tourists they serve. Tourists in general, usually staying for a week or less, logically, make little to no effort to engage with other travelers. 

As a result, we haven’t had an opportunity, no matter how friendly we may be, to make new friends while living in Marrakech, let alone interacting on any level with English speaking visitors.

Not all the nooks and crannies in the souk are ornate and pretty. 

Last night while out to dinner, a lovely couple sat at the table next to ours. At the exact moment, we both heard them speaking English and looked at one another in awe. 

In no manner are we prejudiced by non-English speaking individuals. But it’s impractical to develop relationships when not speaking the same language. It’s tough enough to make new friends when we do speak the same language.

In a year’s time, how often does a couple make new friends with another couple? Hum…not that often.

This construction site is a landmark we’ve used when finding our way through the maze-like souk to find restaurants.

Since arriving in Morocco over one month ago, we’d yet to have a conversation with another English speaking couple. When the woman turned to us, making a comment, we enthusiastically responded simultaneously.

We chatted back and forth with Judy and John from Wales, during our entire dinner, sharing our mutual experiences in Marrakech and telling tales of our world travels. As it turned out, we’d been to many of the same places.

This pleasant interaction reminded us how much we’ve missed the opportunity to share time with friends since leaving South Africa a little over a month ago, where we had a very busy social life, compared to our time in Belize a year ago.

As we purposely navigated an unfamiliar alley, we spotted this glass-enclosed motorbike shops. Many locals use motorbikes to get around the souks, including many women wearing the traditional Muslim garb. 

It’s ironic how in some locations, making friends has been easier than others. As we reflect, it’s clear to see the circumstances under which we’ve found it easy to meet people.

In Belize, living in the lovely condo on the main floor facing the ocean, we had an opportunity to chat with owners and guests walking past our veranda and also when we spent time lounging at the pool. Those two situations proved to be ideal for starting conversations which ultimately were the source of all the friends we made.

After leaving Belize, we cruised off and on for over two months until we landed in Tuscany, Italy for the summer. While on six cruises during this period, we made many new friends. The circumstances precipitating the opportunity to make friends was due to the nightly dinners in the main dining room, where we selected “sharing” as we approached the hostess stand, requesting to share a table with as many as four more couples.

As we walked toward this opening, Tom commented that this had previously been an archway, broken down to make way for more overhangs for the shops in the souks.

Dining with six or more each night opened up many opportunities to develop relationships. In many cases, we dined again and participated in excursions with the new friends, some over the entire course of the cruise.

Much to our delight, we’ve maintained contact with many of these couples who continue to write and stay in touch via email, commenting on our posts, or through Facebook. 

This single fact is highly instrumental in our continuing desire to cruise with two more upcoming in the next six months. We gladly put up with the crowds, the small cabins, the at-times mediocre food, and the long lines to participate in activities. 

This shop sells tassels, lots of tassels which are commonly used in Moroccan decorating such as on drapes and pillows. This colorful shop was a feast for the eyes.

In some countries, we’ve been in isolated areas with few opportunities to meet people. In Tuscany, Italy, our remote location and the language barrier prevented any interactions. Later, in Diani Beach, Kenya most of the homes in the gated community were unoccupied during our stay leaving no opportunity to meet the neighbors.

Luckily, while in Kenya, we’d made fast friends with the owners of the house, Jeri and Hans. But, over the entire three month period, we never had an opportunity to meet other couples. It was certainly not a result of our lack of friendliness. We were often the only diners in the many restaurants we frequented at night.

Missing family and friends is a reality we’ve accepted as one of the many sacrifices we chose to make when we decided to travel the world. It’s a decision we took very seriously knowing the possibility existed that we’d seldom make new friends.

It’s important to look up when walking through the souks.  There are many signs worth noting if one in fact is into shopping, with many shops located on upper levels at certain locations.

Almost daily, we interact with old friends via email, Facebook, and comments posted here. All in all, we don’t feel isolated, especially when we think of all of our worldwide readers who share our daily experiences. For this, we thank each and every one of our online friends.
                                                   ____________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 5, 2013:

This was the pool at LaraBeyu where we lived while in Belize one year ago today. Every day, we’d lay by the pool for one hour of sun and chatting with the wonderful friends we made. At that point, we were leaving Belize in four days to go on a cruise. For the full story from that date one year ago, please click here.

The maze like environmant of the souk…So confusing…Food around the world…

Yesterday, this was my meal at Le Jardin;  fillet of Dover sole with a spinach sauce made with a flour-less cream reduction sauce. In the center, is an array of cooked vegetables, including carrots, zucchini and eggplant. The chef prepared this meal for me after the server showed the him the restriction list on my phone. It was fabulous. Now, I can’t wait to have this again! See how tempting it is to return to favorite restaurant when I can order a dish as amazing as this?

Firstly, again thanks for the many well wishers, for my improving health.  Now with only one more day on Cipro, I am feeling completely well, having decided to continue and do the full five day regime.  All symptoms have subsided and I’m back to my energized self, chomping at the bit to get out and explore.

Tom ordered the same dish he’d had at Le Jardin the last time we visited, fearful he wouldn’t like other options. Next time, he’ll try a different dish.

Yesterday, we did exactly that!  Explore. On Friday, the holy day for those of the Muslim faith, many of the shops are closed in the souk. As a result, the narrow roads and passageways of the souk are relatively free of foot traffic. Since we aren’t interested in shopping, this is an ideal time for us to get around and explore the area and search for new restaurants to try.

During the long walk, as we searched for Le Jardin we discovered this interesting door in the Jemaa el Fna in the souk..

Here’s the dilemma. We’ve decided we can no longer dine at most Moroccan food restaurants. Having decided I will no longer eat raw vegetables after this dreadful illness there are few foods that I can eat in a Moroccan restaurants with any assurance that there will be none of the ingredients that I can’t have. Many dishes have flour, sugar, grains, fruit and starches, all which I must avoid.

Continuing on through the narrow roads, we looked for any familiar landmarks that would assist us in our search for Le Jardin.

A few days ago, Tom suggested I write about food too much. I agree that it is a frequent topic of conversation.  But, let’s face it, people usually travel for a few reasons other than to “get away from it all.” They travel for the shopping, the sights and for the food and wine. 

We thought we were close when a few weeks ago, we’d spotted these same two kittens playing at perhaps the same spot.
Many of the homeless cats hang out in pairs.

When travelers board a long flight, one of their first questions asked is, “Do we get a meal?” One of the major reasons travelers enjoy cruising is for the food, the “all you can eat” aspect, with many courses with an endless array of desserts. When travelers arrive at a new location, they immediately get to work to find out where to eat using the Internet, the concierge or by inquiring to other travelers.

From time to time we’ll see what appears to be a traditional home furnishings shop. 

We live in a “food” orientated society. Our holidays and celebrations consist of big meals with many desserts.  Sporting events appeal to many for the food and drinks that seem to go along the frenzy. A trip to a movie theatre results in a desire for popcorn, candy and drinks. 

Ever go to Las Vegas and not discuss a plan as to where to have the biggest and best buffets, maybe “comped” if one is a serious gambler, or to immediately return to a favorite haunt for a special dish?  Its our nature.

If we go back to the caveman/cavewomen, most likely the first thing they thought about upon wakening, is where and how they’ll get their next meal. In the animal world, we observed both on safari and in living in Marloth Park, that animals lives revolve around the constant hunt or forage for food.

What an interesting door!

Its in our DNA whether its out of the need to feed our bodies or for sheer pleasure. We can’t help but think and talk of our desires for food in various the forms in which we’ve become familiar. A huge part of traveling is the excitement of seeking the new food experiences, the new flavors.

Here we are in Morocco, dealing with my major food restrictions (which I don’t resent at all) and Tom’s picky taste buds, in one  of the “foodie” capitals in the world! Food is a major point of discussion in our lives perhaps in a slightly different manner than for most travelers.

A few decisions have been determined by my recent illness coupled with Tom’s taste buds:
1.  No more dining in Moroccan restaurants
2.  All dining is to be in French, Italian or other suitable international restaurants
3.  When dining in, Madame Zahra will make all meals without the traditional Moroccan spices which at this point, neither of us cares to eat.

Finally, we spotted the green sign at the top of this photo, assuring us at long last, that we were heading in the right direction.

Our lifelong taste preferences can be changed for a few days or even a few weeks. But, none of us, prefer to eat the strong flavors of another culture’s food for months. For example, I love Szechuan Chinese food. Could I eat it everyday for over two months? No. Could one eat foods with Italian spices everyday unless  you were Italian, used to eating those flavors at each meal? No.

Ingrained in all of us, are the tastes most familiar in our lives and from our upbringing. Deviating for a period of time is acceptable but, not so much for the long term.  When Madame Zahra made our meal on Thursday without spices other than salt and pepper, we both moaned in appreciation not only for her fine cooking but for the familiarity of the simple flavors.

With French spoken in Morocco by many of its citizens and the fair number of French restaurants, we’ll have no difficulty finding French restaurants. The bigger problem is, “finding” those in the souk, many of which appear to be tucked away.

The fresh organic produce offered for sale at Le Jardin.

Yesterday, we decided to do a “repeat” and go back to Le Jardin, a French restaurant offering a combination of Moroccan and French influenced options. Having dined there recently, greatly enjoying the food and the ambiance, we decided to return. 

The first time we’d dined at Le Jardin, we stumbled across it during one of our many walks through the maze-like souks. We thought searching and finding it on one of the many online map programs would make returning a breeze. We encountered a few problems. 

They didn’t appear in any of the map programs. The map on their website was confusing and when I tried to call them to email directions, there was no answer. When I tried sending an email to their posted address, it was returned. We were on our own.

Today, we’ll return to the same general area to dine at this French restaurant we stumbled across when looking for Le Jardin.

Tom has the best sense of direction of anyone I’ve ever known. When we left there weeks ago, he had no trouble finding our way back to our home. Time having passed with many outings in the souks, he wasn’t 100% certain as to the course to take.

Needless to say, we wandered around the souks for 45 minutes until we found Le Jardin. We’ve discovered it makes no sense to ask shop workers for directions.  Invariably, the salesperson drags us inside their shop or to another shop, hoping we’ll make purchases.  We’ve learned that we must figure it out on our own. I suppose the shop workers have grown tired of giving directions to confused tourists.

Yesterday, we had another excellent meal while enjoying the birds and turtles roaming freely in the courtyard.  Hence, a few of today’s photos.

Here is one of the two resident turtles at Le Jardin. The staff carefully maneuvers past them when serving guests. It was hard to believe how fast these turtles move. They moved so quickly that I had a hard time taking the photo.  he turtles are on a constant “crumb patrol” mission.

Today, we’ll venture out again to a French restaurant we found along the way yesterday. Again, the souk will be packed with tourists especially as Spring Break becomes relevant in many parts of the world. However, we’ve yet had to wait for a table at any dining establishment.

At Le Jardin we were given two larger maps that hopefully will assist us in the future. The hostess, speaking excellent English, explained that tourists have trouble finding their restaurant which is tucked away at an unexpected location.

Madame Zahra made us this Moroccan spice-free meal which wasn’t bland at all with her use of garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. From left to right, starting at the bread for Tom; sautéed carrots,  chips (fries) for Tom, egg battered sautéed cauliflower (my favorite), sautéed fresh green beans and fried mashed potato puffs for Tom. In the center is the rooftop grilled chicken with both white and dark meat which works well for us; Tom likes the white meat while I prefer the dark. As always, there is more food than we can eat. But, homemade Moroccan cooking consists of many items. 

In two days, on Monday, we’ll go out on a day of sightseeing which we both anticipate with enthusiasm, ending the day at a new-to-us, upscale French restaurant. See… even sightseeing is laced with concerns about FOOD.

Visitors to Khaya Umdani…They never disappoint…Never a dull moment…Hooked on a Feeling!

There he was, looking at us through the glass and wood sliding door in the master bedroom at Khaya Umdani. What a sight! 

One might think that sitting on a veranda, most days in the heat and humidity would become dull and meaningless. Tom said that in a funny way it’s almost like fishing.  The constant anticipation is worth every quiet moment. The joy of discovery makes it all worth it.

He stepped back as we opened the door after the noise from the door opening.

After a week at Khaya Umdani, we made the foolish assessment that perhaps the only visitors here would be warthogs, an occasional impala from afar, an elusive duiker in the dense bush,, or Vervet Monkeys, none of which were ever a disappointment. 

He inched closer as Tom dashed to get the cup of pellets while I was taking the photos while practically squealing with delight.

Yesterday, Danie stopped by and straightened out our thinking, saying that patience prevails and “they” would come, “they” being the larger animals. Of course, Danie knows better than we do. So, we reframed our thinking and retained our hope.

Moments later, Tom returned with the pellets while Mr. Kudu patiently waited. When we realized the female kudus were in the garden, we quietly moved back outside to gasp at the amazing sight of an additional nine female kudus munching in the yard.

Alas, yesterday afternoon when we wandered indoors to shower and dress for dinner at Ngwenya, we were enthralled by the above sight of Mr. Kudu at the sliding door to the bedroom. From there it was an hour of pure pleasure as Tom scrambled to get the pellets and I snapped away. The shower would have to wait.

The female kudus were scattered about the yard with a few Warthog families hanging around as well, hoping a tasty morsel would come their way.

Last night out to dinner with Okee Dokee joining us as our guest (we adore her), we mutually agreed upon a fact that holds so much truth: Being in the presence of animals, wild and not so wild, makes one feel peaceful and happy, a feeling often lasting hours later.

Female kudus don’t have antlers.  Their big pink ears add to their beauty.

Take us, already happy travelers, and place wildlife in front of us and we become wildly happy with smiles on our faces that we can’t erase for hours. It’s no wonder that medical science has proven that animal interactions may be instrumental in helping patients heal from ill-health. Click here for one of many medical studies supporting this concept.

Ms. Kudu getting ready to munch on a tree. So pretty.

It wouldn’t be surprising if scientists studied residents of Marloth Park to discover that they lived longer and healthier lives with constant exposure to wildlife. It’s no wonder, I have angst about leaving, three weeks from today. I’m hooked on a feeling!

Graceful, gentle, and quiet.

What we felt when we saw this Mr. Kudu at the bedroom door and moments later his entourage of nine gorgeous females can only compare to the joy we felt when 12 giraffes stood in the driveway of the little house, almost two months ago. And then, more and more such sightings! The high continues on each day.

This baby kudu was still a little unsure on her feet. Most likely she was born in the past 60 days. Moms keep babes out of sight for several weeks after giving birth to protect them from potential predators.

Add the pleasure of our time at Khaya Umdani, the laughter from the warthog families that visit each day, and this, in itself has been a blissful experience. On Sunday morning, we’ll move out to make way for an upcoming prior reservation. 

The handsome male explored this side of the pool…

Do we go back to the little house or do Louise and Danie have something new up their sleeves planned for us?  Soon, we shall see.  And of course, we’ll promptly share the details with all of you.

Then, he wandered over to the opposite side of the pool, all the while making eye contact with us. He was the only male in the group, commanding reverence from the females and the Warthogs. Ha!

With newly made local friends returning to Marloth Park today and more a week later, we look forward to our social life firing up once again. 

Another baby caught our eye.  Mom was always nearby, keeping a watchful eye. It was time for us to go. It was hard to leave them, but they had begun to wander away for the next lush vegetation in the area. When we returned after dinner in the dark, we saw the herd in a nearby yard.

Plus, we want to say thank you to all of our readers for staying with us on our journey, soon to make a 180-degree switch from wildlife to culture. In a mere 21 days, we’ll be leaving South Africa to travel to Morocco, where we’ll live in the colorful hustle and bustle city of Marrakesh for 75 days, where we won’t be cooking any of our own meals. Wow! That should be interesting. 

CarSoup and security…I’ll take a bowl of that!…

It may be going a little overboard!  For $34 at Amazon.com we purchased these three items putting my mind at ease.

Months ago, Tom and I easily came to the conclusion that owning a car in the US while traveling the world was both foolish and costly. As we’d mentioned in a recent post, it will be peculiar not to own a car which took us a few days to accept.  With only a few calculations, we knew it was the right decision.

Tom’s car, only two years old, still has a remaining balance on a loan. My car also has a loan, a small remaining balance after having bought out the lease a few years ago when offered an irresistible deal for a below market price, certification and an extended warranty. 

Our combined payments are $1048 a month. Add in the auto insurance at $152 a month (me, fender benders!), maintenance at $100 month (my warranty ran out), gas at $300 a month (estimated after retirement for both cars) for a monthly total of $1600.

Keeping a car in the US would have resulted in the continuation of most of these expenses with the $300 a month intended for gas instead going to the cost of storage. Ridiculous!  We had no difficulty making the decision to sell both cars. Most certainly, we can rent cars for considerably less than this amount anywhere we may be in the world

Selling my car in October presents a dilemma: I will be without a car for a few weeks at most.  I can manage by working out and grocery shopping when Tom is home after work and on the few remaining weekends.  

Most of my time these last weeks will be spent completing the packing, cleaning and organizing. Family and friends will visit me here for the next three and a half weeks, until we move to our friend’s home for the remaining week, October 24th to October 31st, our departure date.  We’ll be out of the way during the estate sale. 

Yesterday, I listed my car for the seven day free trial at CarSoup.  If it doesn’t sell in a week, I’ll re-list it committed to the minimum one month contract for $9.95.  What if it doesn’t sell?  

The Cadillac dealer from whom I purchased my car new, most likely will buy it. A few months ago, I’d received a letter from them, inquiring as to my interest in selling them my car. Their used car inventory was low.  Serendipity.  Of course, the price will be much lower than my possible private sale, but at that point, I’ll have no alternative.

Here’s my ad on CarSoup, in case you know of anyone that may be interested. Hopefully soon, gone, gone, gone.

As for Tom’s car, we’ve made a carefully analyzed decision to drive his 2010 SUV to Scottsdale, Arizona for our last 60 days in the US. With its great gas mileage, space for all of our luggage, navigation system and a great security system we’ll be at ease with our decision.  We’ll also drive the SUV to Henderson, Nevada for Christmas with family and friends, finally driving ourselves to the pier in San Diego, for our first cruise. 

We are offering our prospective buyer a good price (a person well known to us), to fly to San Diego and pick up the SUV at the pier, where we’ll have left it on January 3, 2013.  We’ll have financial matters completed prior to this time and have sent him a set of keys.  Easy peasy.  If anything falls through (we always have to have a Plan B), we’ll engage the same practice as for my car, sell the car to a dealer, taking the hit. Whoosh!  $1600 a month, gone!

My next auto related concern: all of our luggage in the back of Tom’s SUV while we make the leisurely four day drive from Minnesota to Arizona.  Our condo in Scottsdale won’t be available until November 4th.  We thought it would be great to take our time during Tom’s first four days of retirement having fun along the way.  A road trip is a great way to start our year’s long adventure!

So again, me worrying.  What if the SUV is vandalized or stolen and our bags, all six of them, are ripped off?  Of course, we’ll be insured. But suddenly, all of our worldly possessions would be gone. Everything. Nada. All of the hundreds  of hours spent researching and buying just the right clothing and products, for at least the first three years of our travels, gone. Scary!  What would we do?  

We’ve discussed this possibility.  We’d continue on to Scottsdale, clothes on our backs with 60 days to find and replace everything we would have lost. Stressful, yes. Frustrating, of course. Doable, yes.

A solution, although not a guarantee, was to amp up his SUV’s security. First, we tested the functionality of his factory installed car alarm.  Next, we made a conscious decision to only stay in motels whereby the SUV will be parked outside our room door.  Also, we’ll be signing up for OnStar for the 60 day period at $18.95 a month.  If the car is stolen, it can be tracked by GPS, immediately reporting to the police.  

With highly sensitive hearing and as a very light sleeper, I’ll sleep with the key fob in my hand (I’ve slept with the TV remote in my hand all night. Why not the fob?).  If I hear a sound, I’ll set off the alarm long before the car alarm goes off, hopefully scaring away a possible thief.  

We are subject to many variables in regard to our two vehicles over the next 90 days.  We have accepted these somewhat painstaking scenarios are part of the process in order to be able to eventually lounge in a lawn chair, overlooking the ocean, knowing this “vacation” may never have to end.  

I’ll tell you how that feels when it happens.

Our final doctor appointments…

With a degree of angst we headed out yesterday afternoon with empty stomachs in preparation for blood tests to our last doctor appointments, Tom’s and mine scheduled together for a full hour.  I imagine that most people don’t enjoy going to the doctor, but for me it is a dreaded experience.

Doctor, dentist, Ob-Gyn and optometrist all fall into the same category. I don’t like it, don’t want it, don’t want to take my clothes off, don’t want anyone looking in my mouth or other such places and don’t want to stand on that disgusting scale. No, no, no!

We had to go. Yes, I know, it would be our last appointment for a long while (hopefully). Obviously, I have some type of “issues” around this, a mixed bag of good and bad.  That which makes me diligent, impatient, goal orientated and downright persistent adds to my ability to spend endless hours planning our year’s long world adventure. 

On the flip side, it makes me feel “out of control” to have a stranger poking and prodding at me, obviously looking for something wrong as opposed to something right.  Perhaps everyone feels the same way.  Perhaps the only difference is that I am more vocal about it.

So, off we went to our long time physician Dr. Dennis Showalter of Park Nicollet, a youngish (40″), kind, physically fit and smart man, for our final appointments (except for one more travel clinic appointment for each of us, Tom’s later this week, mine in early October).

Greeted with, “Do you have your insurance card and ID?” as opposed to  a cheerful “hello” never ceases to amaze me. I suppose the job of doctor office assistant is demanding, wrought with frustration.  Answering the endless array of the same questions over and over, accompanied by grumpy comments from ill patients (who also don’t want to be there), pushes them over the edge. 

When calling for an appointment they grumble their name immediately asking, “What’s your name and date of birth?”  I cringe while giving them my age, something I am otherwise not ashamed of, having posted it many times in this blog.  I literally cringe.  Knowing their job is thankless, I go overboard with kindness and thoughtfulness, complying with their every wish.

I refused to go on the scale.  Tom was standing right there, edging me on.  I have weighed myself in front of him at home.  I’m skinny, but still, as a woman, I have the same insecurity about “the number.” 

Tom jumps on the scale with an enthusiastic bounce.  I remind him to take off his “three pound tennis shoes.”  He laughs and says he doesn’t care. Oh, yeah, he’s a guy. His weight was five pounds more than at home naked on the digital scale; heavy jeans, tee shirt, keys in pockets, wallet and those shoes.  “OK, maybe the home scale is accurate after all,” I think.

We’re escorted to a room, blood pressures checked by another rushed assistant and left alone.  Tom squeezes my hand aware of my discomfort. He tells me a joke.  I didn’t get it, a guy joke but I laughed anyway. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention.

Moments later, a light knock on the door and in walks the tall, slender doctor, an example of robust health, warmth in his eyes, hand extended. 

An hour later, a year’s worth of prescriptions on hand to be mailed to CanadaDrugs.com (please see my post as to how we’ll handle prescriptions from afar) for the best pricing. (Tom went from four prescriptions down to one from our low carb, gluten-free, sugar-free, grain-free, starch-free diet over the past year). Doc was impressed at his weight loss.  He didn’t ask me why I didn’t get on the scale.  He knows. 

We meandered off to the  lab down the hall to have “every blood test known to man” for one final check before we go on our year’s long worldwide adventure. One test that we determined to be crucial, in the event of an emergency, was blood typing. This information wasn’t in either of our charts.  Good information to know, just in case.Holding hands, Tom and I left the clinic, smiling from ear to ear, me relieved it was over, Tom was anxious to get home to enjoy the remainder of the day he had taken off work for this appointment.  

Thank you, Dr. S.  Hopefully, in a year, we’ll have our online Skype appointment with him to review of our health and refills. Perhaps, we’ll use our portable travel scale and maybe, just maybe, I’ll weigh myself on it!

Memories, old and new yet to come…

The 4th is over. The house is cleaned of the chocolate flag cake little hand prints and the freshly cut grass covered little feet.  The dog nose prints on the glass are gone, the kitchen cleaned from my “bull in a China Shop” food preparation, food flying everywhere.  

The leftovers are almost gone with only one more night of tender barbecue ribs, almond flour fried chicken and crunchy broccoli salad.  There’s one more piece of the gluten free cake for Tom to enjoy tonight after a 12-hour day of hard work in the heat. I look forward to placing it dead center on a his favorite white plate and handing it to him while he cools off in his comfy chair, TV in the background, Ancestry.com loaded up on his laptop, ready to go.

Tom doesn’t like for me to “wait” on him. He never asks me to get him anything. For me, it has become less of a gender role, but more of a being a caring and responsible partner in life, holding up my end of the deal. Retiring almost two years ago after 45 years of work I find my new “job” of homemaker, cook, blogger and travel planner rather rewarding.    

I do laundry every day, washed, folded and ironed if needed.  Each night, Tom took out his clothes for the next day’s work invariably choosing the same already washed and dried shirt among a dozen others, one that he wore the prior day.  

I asked him last night if his co-workers noticed that he rotated only two shirts. He laughed, saying, “Guys don’t notice other guy’s clothes unless they are particularly unusual or fodder for endless jokes.”  His two shirts are relatively boring.  He’s not.

This morning as I padded around the kitchen, almost running in circles, I anticipated my big activity for the day; lunch with my old friend, Lynda of 36 years at Maynards in Excelsior situated on Lake Minnetonka, where she and I hung out in the 70’s (when it was known as T. Butcherblocks). We’d skillfully maneuver our big boats up to the dock, tied them up, and proceeded to order copious amounts of sweet drinks with umbrellas, later dancing into the night in the upstairs bar, chasing boys. 

Both boat owners, we were proud to be women who could manage our meticulously cleaned and maintained 25+ foot cabin cruisers into a tight slip in “the front” of the dock, later heading home to our growing kids, our hard earned homes, our booming business and the responsibilities of the day. It was fun. We were young.

As we meet today to discuss our lives, she with her second husband, me with my third, we’ll surely chuckle over the changes in our lives; our grown kids, our grand kids, she and her husband Jim, living part time in China with two homes in California and now a home on Lake Minnetonka and, us on our path of seeing the world. We’re both digging into our “bucket lists.”

We both still work out almost every day, as we did then, enjoy healthy food, take care of ourselves and grumble over the ravages of time that inevitably heads our way.  We accept that reality of aging as gracefully as we can. We both still relish a “cute” outfit and a brag-worthy bargain on a sexy pair of high heeled shoes, comfort being more of a prerequisite than it was in the past. 

Life has never been easy for either of us, as for most. We worked hard for what we wanted and fumbled along the way. We experienced sorrow, health issues, disappointments and failures. We survived. We still know the words to Gloria Gaynor’s, I Will Survive, popular in our “day.”

It will be a lovely lunch, seeing an old friend, sharing our lives, ordering the delicious Seared Ahi Tuna Salad that I always order at Maynards, reminiscing about the past, anticipating the future that we both share in common in so many ways.

Later, when I return home, I’ll squeeze into a bathing suit spending a little time getting my usual hour’s worth of Vitamin D, finish a load of wash and anxiously await Tom’s return home.   I’ll pour him a cold glass of sugar free iced tea and set out the white plate for him to enjoy the last piece of the gluten free chocolate flag cake. 

I’ll ask him no less than three times if he’s ready for his cake and smile when he finally says “yes”, springing from my comfy chair to get it for him.  

He never asks for me to get something for him, which occasionally makes “waiting” on him, all the more meaningful.