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We set out from the small port town of Isafjordur on Iceland’s northwest coast, just below the Arctic Circle. The sun was out; the glaciers were sparkling, white against black. Waterfalls gushed down the steep hillsides. As we moved inland an amazing sight came into view – vast spills of purple lupines covered the grassy hillsides. The flowers are an invasive species but one that created dreamy vistas in all directions.
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The countess was drunk again, floating motionless on her back in the warm water of the ship’s swimming pool. Wrinkled, thin and heavy with jewelry, she seemed to have an ability to remain afloat instead of sinking as the weight of her jewels would dictate. We watched her while awaiting the crew members who would haul her out on a nightly basis. During her more sober day the poor countess, who had recently suffered the theft of other jewelry from her chateau, was comforted by an Indian woman who lived in Florida.… Read more
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We were in Belfast, Northern Ireland and wanted to see a bit of the countryside. The Ard Peninsula seemed to be a good idea. It was a good idea until we were well on our way. It started to rain, then it rained harder, then the rain came down in buckets. We continued anyway along the grey windblown Strangford Lough, an arm of the Irish Sea, toward our main goal: Grey Abbey. The complex contains the remains of a Cistercian abbey and outbuildings founded in 1193 by Affreca, the pious wife of a nobleman, in thanks for surviving a dangerous sea passage.… Read more
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