Swedish culture may have a reputation of understatement and stoicism. But when it comes to shopping? They raise the bar. And climb the walls!
This shot happened on Stockholm’s famous shopping street, Drottningatten. Eye-catching? I’ll say! And ahead of their time—long before the Coronavirus had everyone was climbing the walls.
Keep the faith.
Welcome to the MN State Fair. There, I have taken some mighty fine pics, as can most anyone. The eye candy is endless, though food is even more so!
Now, may I introduce your 2,126,551 closest friends—as in, socially close and not distant! That was last year’s (record) attendance. Oddly enough, most people might claim not to love crowds and lines. Yet millions pack the State Fair and bump into each other (literally) for 11 days at the end at the end of summer. Rain or swelter.
Once there, it’s a small world, and peculiar things happen. Like, unbeknownst to me, this woman front-left who is staring at me is wearing a pink Okoboji sweatshirt. I have that sweatshirt (in blue). I go to Okoboji, a lot. Have my whole life. And as I shot this throng, I had no idea she was there. Glaring at me through those Foster Grants. That 300mm telephoto lens is a monster to schlep around but always captures big surprises.
Of late, the rumor on the streets is that our beloved event will likely not happen this year due to The Virus. The lesson? Gosh, ditch the excuses, grab the camera, and get out and experience every BreakAway you can. Because, well, you just never know…
Keep the faith.
Yes, this travelog story took place last month. However, we’ve learned from the greats (like friend and guru Sherry Ott) and even fancy mags that travel stories rarely publish promptly for a variety of reasons. In this case, those included some technical difficulties, COVID-19 disruptions, and a related, gnarly case of what psychologists are now discussing as mass indecision-inertia.
Having disclaimed THAT…Pictured above is my daughter jumping for joy just to be by the ocean during spring break last month. In California, you’re often close to a beach, since the coastline stretches for 840 glorious miles. Our trip of Great Expectations became, indeed, the best of times, the worst of times. We somehow accomplished our BreakAway’s ambitious itinerary. But the corona crisis and angst chased us around every palm tree.
You’d hardly suspect that Long Beach hosts nearly half-million residents. I don’t see them; I notice quaint neighborhoods (with about half-million self-care shops), charming architecture, and a classic Cali vibe overflowing with flowers and greenery like these bird of paradise—precious soul flora for us Midwesterners.
Thanks to a dear aunt who moved there in 1960, I’ve been visiting occasionally throughout my life. In fact, her house was the last stop of a most epic breakaway—a 4-month RTW extravaganza. Upon arrival that day, she informed me that my beloved grandma had passed away the night before, as if waiting for my return. It rained the entire stay, like tears from heaven, which inspired this “The Sky is Crying” post.
Seeing my aunt again this time around was a great treat, and also sparked memories of childhood summer stays featuring Disneyland, Angels’ games, and all that SoCal has to offer a giddy kid. The smell of the sea and happy faces at the beach transported me, for fleeting moments, into a 6-year-old again. Long Beach was an idyllic place to spend an extended summer vacation, and now strikes me as a splendid place to grow old.
With people (and colleges and sights) to see, neighboring Seal Beach and The Pacific Inn provided an ideal launch-pad location for eating well and wandering the peaceful seashore and village. Strolling there feels like iconic California on sense-surround, from the chirpy birds to a world of aromas wafting from the many eateries.
Sadly, in what would soon become a pattern, we were among the last guests at my favorite Seal Beach restaurant, Walt’s Wharf. They closed down shortly after our late-night feast. And, after 50 years of making delightful, delicious meals and memories, this local treasure is unlikely to survive Corona’s crushing wave.
We knew before arriving that The Virus would show up in various ways, from nervous airplane passengers to omnipresent Purell. But we also were somehow blessed and blissed; our timing could not have been luckier. One week later, we would have missed the shops, the salty souls surfing, and the hippies jamming for tips under a full moon.
The Pacific Inn and its tiny lobby became a bustling gathering spot for people waiting to board cruise ships which were stuck in Long Beach Harbor because of possible Corona cases among imprisoned passengers. A friendly, retired couple from Michigan held court for hours in the lobby, chatting and reading while keeping another night’s reservation ready JIC. (It came in handy.)
Late (late!) that evening, an impossibly jubilant (drunk) group of 8 would-be sailors arrived with enough luggage to sink a boat. They were ecstatic to land the last available room after waiting all day at the port. How all 8 of these wide-bodies slept in their 2 queen-size beds…we’ll never know. But from the sounds of it, the party was sleep-optional!
As metaphorical darkness kept surrounding us, a guy began to wonder…as our week winds down, will the California to-do list be do-able? will our plane allow us to board? What is our Plan B? Yet despite the chill of pandem-onia in the air—or perhaps because of it—we focused on relishing every moment of being…Away.
Up and early one morning, we drove through SoCal’s crazy traffic using the time-saving HOV lanes (that move at speeds that would make Germans jealous) to visit 2 of the 5 Claremont Colleges’ excellent schools—Pomona and Pitzer. Pomona (nearly $70K; 8% acceptance rate) won me over and made me long to be 18 (and smart and rich and lucky). Perhaps my enthusiasm, if not youthfulness, radiates from the embarrassing dad-on-campus picture.
Next-door Pitzer College (not much cheaper; a smidgen easier to get into) was founded in the 60s and reverberates California’s legendary liberal leanings. The grounds have been converted to dessert foliage and thus get high marks in environmentalism. The dorms are all attached in an open, communal design. The curriculum is what-you-make-it (literally) with a student body that knows its ABC’s and PC’s.
My first impression during the Pitzer presentation was true love. And some details, like this famous “Free Wall” piqued applause and evoked eras of when expression was refreshingly artistic rather than screen-centric. But by the end of the tour, I realized I’m probably just not evolved enough. So I made the difficult decision not to apply (as their most evolved student ever, age-wise). And, if asked, might encourage my daughter to consider carefully as well.
Our timing remained fortuitous. All 5 Claremont colleges ceased tours and info sessions the following day…and sent students home within the week. The pizzeria that served our sumptuous lunch? Shuttered the next day. Scary? Yes! Nonetheless, getting sick or stuck—so far from home—was simply not on the itinerary.
So we carried on and managed to create a most enjoyable time, never mind the burgeoning worry trailing us like a sick dog.
We seemed to know, on some level, that the airports would soon go quiet. That the street life would turn off. And that it might be months—years?—before we were able to manage a faraway BreakAway again—something we’ve done as a way of life since my daughter’s birth. To have this time, even amid the worry, was precious and priceless.
Life can be mercilessly…uncertain. Which is all the more reason to—as the old bumper sticker preaches—”Don’t postpone joy.”
So I again hearken my Grandma who in both good and bad times would cheerfully chirp (and a Seal Beach boutique echoed), “Count your blessings.”
COMING NEXT: Cruising SoCal Before Corona…On to LALA Land!
The ice will melt. The kayak, like the people, will be able to move forward without fear of injury. A new season will arrive—that lets us run free and splash on each other. We may even open that Corona (beer) without making a bad joke!
Until then, assuming you are well, TRY to enjoy this unscheduled sabbatical. Stay safe. Stay sane.
Keep the faith.
Let’s face it, most of America endures bothersome winters of some sort, literally and metaphorically. So when spring arrives—which happens sporadically at best—everyone should drop everything (including their stupid dumb phones) and head to the great outdoors!
That Nasty Virus makes fresh air, open space, and nature even more alluring and vital. After all, we’re mostly locked-down inside inventing new hyper-definitions to for “stir crazy” and “testy.” In normal times, folks head out in swarms here in Minnesota when a heat wave of, say, 42F finally arrives. But lately, the traffic jams have abandoned the highways and hit the sidewalks! (Never mind that they all turn their heads and sprint 6’ away when they see me coming.)
Walk the dog. Walk the rake. Rake the yard. Rake the dog. Play catch with your kids. Invent new sports with your kids. Try social-distance bonfires, driveway happy hours, and pontoon rides (on vessels large enough to keep your space)—like when I took this “Super Moon Pink Moon” shot with the iPhone 11 this week.
A bit blurry, sure. But better than my (very few) crew-mates took with their devices. And why not…since reality is becoming one big blur? Better take pictures to remember these epic days, even while they run together like weird chalk art in the rain. Oh, and did I mention: Go OUTSIDE?
We’ll get through this.
My guess is everyone is sick tired of hearing and reading about the coronavirus. So just for today, let’s just try to: Be brave & have fun.
The pun works well today, too well.
Days before California got closed, residents and tourists alike were blithely enjoying the sweet spots—including the 840 miles of lovely coastline. Memories help us cling to hope, and gather the strength and patience to weather hard times like this crazy virus.
Here’s to better days ahead.
During spring break last week, my daughter and I managed a BreakAway of sorts (more on that soon), and were enjoying a stroll down Santa Monica’s Third Street Promenade on Thursday. That’s just one week ago today as I sit back home writing. The Nasty Corona Virus was all the buzz, yet this was the first sign I saw of a business closing. Man, how the world can change in a mere 7 days.
Travel tends to bring some risk and angst. But this trip featured an endless barrage of disturbing news, rather like the waves at a California beach that just keep coming and coming—but stressful, not peaceful.
We got lucky. Our ambitious checklist of things to do all got done, even though many of them would not have been possible the following day. We visited three colleges that suspended tours the day after. We were also the last guests to enjoy the Getty Museum, a neighborhood bar, a French restaurant…
We’ve returned to a shut-down, locked-down world, including my daughter’s school and sports. A world we must stay away from people, stock up on food, and hoard toilet paper. A world where many are worrying about not only how to pay bills, but how to eat. The situation is dreadful, and getting worse.
But, Dude! How was Cali? Well, it was a lovely trip, miraculously. We even played Frisbee under the sun on a beautiful beach; that’s a deep-tissue soul-massage for us Minnesotans. Normally, any sane person would feel sad to see a vacation like this one end.
Yet this time, as I comb through photos and memories and worries, this traveler can only say: There’s no place like home.
Spring break this year inspired a California trip for my high-school daughter and me. We had several missions: Visit family and friends; sneak in some sun, sand, and surf; and see some potential higher-ed schools.
“Be prepared” is a motto of this travel-centric website. So we packed ample snacks, sunscreen (didn’t need it), umbrellas (very handy, unfortunately), and hand sanitizer. Nothing, however, could prepare us for a world-wide pandemic—and all the accompanying fear and loathing. It’s brought new meaning to “traveling heavy.”
Still, we gratefully accomplished most of our goals, including a fascinating info session and tour of Pitzer College, in Claremont, CA, a school founded in the 60s and where those ideals are alive and loud. Proof: The “Freedom Wall,” where students can write anything, anytime. It’s extraordinarily popular, even sorta famous.
I would call it a work of participatory art—and find it interesting that people are fascinated by it. Can we say the same about the gazillions of messages placed online through countless platforms? No.
Art beats noise any day. And that happens every day at Pitzer College.
Is it just me or does toilet humor (literally) seem to be on the rise? Maybe it’s just men’s rooms. Maybe it’s bars and restaurants trying to increase the fun factor to boost sales. Maybe it’s another sign of the rather rude, crude times we live in.
Regardless, my collection of such statements has become noteworthy. (Yes, I try to shoot fast and not disturb fellow bathroom guests.)
No butts about it, this toilet “art” caught my eye and made me chuckle. And since the bathroom was on the island of Belize, they were serious about not wanting cigarette butts in the septic system. You’d see similar signs in most any establishment. But few were, shall we say, as eye-catching.
1 kid, 5 islands, 69 days
Here's my son’s blog from an '08/09 BreakAway in the Caribbean.
1 planet, countless cultures, 120 days
In 00/01, when the internet was a pup, I went RTW and posted these words and pics en route.
