Story: Red Candle

You asked on the plane if I had any crazy stories and wild adventures from my travels... it had been such a long, long time since I have been asked that I drew an immediate blank.

I've thought about that moment quite a bit since then. And I need to share more stories. So. Here we go.  Memories unfolded and returning.


#1 I spent almost two months in Berlin, one of my favorite places. There was a group of five of us that connected within my first two-three weeks there (at the Circus Hostel) and we spent the time together; exploring Berlin, enjoying Berlin and sharing travels and stories.

One member of the group was Hans (American!) who was staying at the hostel prior to the start of his study abroad program while waiting for university housing to open. Once it did, he made a few local friends, one of whom suggested a club that we all might like to visit.

It was called Freitag - 'Friday' in German - and was only open on... Friday night. It was an underground venue with very specific directions. The next week rolled around and we made plans to go - picking up a couple of stragglers from the hostel on the way out.

The directions were unusual. It was normal enough to start; off a main strauss's in a popular neighborhood in the city, a few S-Bahn stops from 'home.' Next it was down a busy side street. To a less busy side street. Then to an even smaller side street. Until we were officially in a quiet, sleepy neighborhood on the outskirts of Berlin with toddler bikes strewn about yards.

It was dark. It was March. And it was cold. We were a little unsure and a little sketched out by the directions - which we were following to a tee and had yet to lead us astray. Despite being in what could have passed for a suburban, Midwestern street - minus street light - we pressed on.

We turned down the last street indicated and walked to the cul-de-sac.  We found the third house on the left from the dead end and found the marker that we had been searching for in the pitch dark: a sole red candle glowing on the porch.

Tentatively we walked up to the house, questioning the absurdity of the whole venture. Everyone dared the others to be the one to knock on the door. Hans was elected unanimously. Timidly, but firmly he knocked.  We half expected an angry parent woken up in the middle of the night to open the door.  It opened.

A 20-something guy greeted us, his finger to his mouth to indicate silence. We obeyed. In hushed tones Hans confirmed we were here for Freitag. The guy nodded and pointed to the back of the house, where a 20-something gal waited. She showed us to a basement door and told us to remain quiet until the door closed behind us and we were down the stairs.  We started to descend the stairs, the door closing gently behind us. With a rush, as we reached the bottom, we were hit with the turbulent, colorful sounds of a salsa band, playing full blast.

The music flowed throughout a small, two room solid concrete basement. A makeshift bar was setup along a back wall. A few tables and chair were planted in an alcove. The ceilings were low and the lights dim. And the room was past capacity with dancing, gleeful party-goers. It. Was. Amazing.

Tucked away, underground, on an unsuspecting street.

We shed our winter coats, grabbed drinks and joined the fray. The music switched up throughout the night as the band's mood changed. We were friended by the club's usual crew, who took us in with open, gregarious arms. There was dancing, lots of conversation, drinking, a few heated philosophical debates (now a bit fuzzy because of the drinking), more dancing and more conversation. A couple of us found out that the neighbors were actually well aware of the setup. As long as the band couldn't be heard and the streets quiet as people came and went, they had no issue. Occasionally some would come over for the night.

That was by far the most unusual adventure to get to a dance party. (Though not the most unusual dance party...) A lively setup in an unassuming place.

We stayed out until the wee hours and enjoyed every minute. Berlin was always full of the unexpected.

An Adventure to the East Coast

13 days.  More like 12 1/2.  And I take off for the East Coast.  The trip began with a wedding... and grew into an adventure three regions wide.  What with the expense of air travel, especially coast to coast during summer, and the fact that I haven't actually visited out that way in almost eight years - it seemed apropos to turn a long weekend in Ithaca into 'an actual' visit.

It's anyone's guess as to what I am truly getting myself into.  Visiting my family is always a dangerous option.  Hope to be pleasantly surprised.  Rollercoaster is fully expected, though.  I know better.  Moral support may be needed.  I think moving around every few days will keep things lighthearted and fun...

A few things I am actually very much looking forward to: time with my little brother in his 'hood, as well as time with my two little nieces, a real Red's game, bowling (I hear that snicker!), a boisterous weekend with the Italians.  Another great thing about the two weeks is a break from what the daily grind has become.  A breather is much needed.  It's a bit insane the way things have been for months.  More time for life and maybe an actual day off once a week?  Once the bank account gets to where it should be, all will get back to normal.  At least, my idea of normal.  Making the most of things as that happens.

So... all that said, it should be a blog-worthy two weeks!  Pictures and outrageous escapades are bound to follow...

Italy - from 4/28

A few days ago, I made a decision.  It's time for action.  Time to work on getting my Italian passport.  Thinking about traveling and life lately, I just realized that I may really want to go abroad again for awhile.  It may just be the thirst for another adventure.  It may be that I miss the mornings in Europe, the emphasis on play and not just work, the experience of another culture, the walks I used to take at night to feel the energy in the air, the food.  I feel like there may be a change ahead on the horizon of some sort.  And that if there is, I should be ready for it.

I think that in the past I always put the idea off because I was afraid of ditching the real family that I had found, my friends, and ending up alone trying to make a new one in a new place.  Which seems frightfully silly from where I am seeing things at the moment.  My friends are always there no matter what.  And life should never be lived holding back even just a little.

A little of the future...

At times I think about living abroad again.  A year or two in Europe... or Australia.  Maybe a place in between.  It's always a thought in the back of my mind, ever since traveling around as much as I did.  I like San Francisco and for now it's good - it's the first place in America that's felt like home for a long time.  However, that doesn't mean that I will be around the Bay area forever.

And it gets tougher to feel settled when the people around me take off for foreign adventures.  And now I have two friends who are in the midst of doing so.  It makes me wonder about my own future.  The things I would like about living abroad again.  What it would take to make all that happen.  And would I want to do it alone again this time around.

If these ideas are always floating under the surface, always exploding when I hear of others doing such things... then they should eventually be made to happen, yeah?  It's a strange line of thought that zig zags through my head.  A jumble of emotions and ideas.  I am just wondering what will become of all of it...

Destination: Zion National Park

Yay!  It's almost time!  One week till my friends and I meet for our second photography trip this year. We picked Zion National Park for our fall venture.  Tons of autumnal color, great weather, and an endless smorgasbord of things to point our cameras at.  The trip begins in Vegas, where we will all fly in and meet.  It will be my first time in the City of Sin, and I'm glad it will only be a thrilling hour or so.  Ironic to fly into  such a city just to make our way to a beautiful stretch of nature, eh?

I forgot to post anything about the trip to Yosemite in February; and this time will be much different.  I am sure that there will be many things to post about and share.  Very much excited to have a proper vacation and to see my friends.  It's been awhile since I have used my camera the way it should be used and my creativity has been aching.  And thanks to Neil and I, we will be eating well too.  Many delicious meals planned!  It's going to be a great trip. :)

You will be kept in the loop, so check back!

Final Round

A few final scenic shots of sunrises...

 nightscapes...

 a rainbow reward after a noontime shower...

 and mist over the bush.

 And the one experience no one wants to miss from New Zealand...

 Happy and unaware.

 It was winter so the sheep were only getting their faces and ahm, other parts, sheared to make life a little easier.

 Sporting the new 'do.

 Final sunset in New Zealand.

 Goodbye!  A grand trip it was!

Awaiting my flight home to San Fragjdsco.

Fourth Round

A few days we went over to work with Paul, a neighbor down yonder.  He used to work with the Department of Conservation and occasionally still works on building projects for them.  Quite the character.

 Paul's barn was full of many collections...

 Old tools from logging days.

 Another neighbor, who made several escape attempts from his roadside post.

 AnneMarie checking traps for stoats.

 We were being watched.

 Caught one!

 Yikes.

 One afternoon our hosts took us golfing.  Scores will remain unposted.

 Another day the other wwoofers and I went scouring for mussels along the Te Mata coastline.  We came up empty-handed.

 The bones belong to Frederick, a wwoofer who lost his way in the native bush.

 A few photographs of the glorious views...

 Tihana farm plants 1000 trees every year.  This was #1000.

 Finishing up the sign for the cove of plantings I was given to name.

A few artsy shots.

A good night.