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WHERE THE GOLDEN HORN MEETS THE BOSPHORUS

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Guest post from David Joslyn:

Finding the Galata Bridge on your first visit to Istanbul is like discovering the center of the universe, where dozens of cargo barges, huge water taxis and tourist cruise ships crisscross the golden Horn that flows under it in a never ending mish mass of maritime movement,  a constant flow of ocean vessels visible in the distance carrying oil and grain, sharing the narrow Bosphorus passage with naval ships of all sizes as they move from the Mediterranean through the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea and back.

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THE GOLD COAST

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This old drawing doesn’t show the the Gold Coast in Australia, Long Island or Florida. It depicts Cape Coast Castle on the Gold Coast in Ghana. The gold that gave its name to the Ghanaian coastline wasn’t only the shiny metal from the African hinterland. After the establishment of plantations in the New World it was the money earned from the trade in slaves who supplied the labor that made the plantations of coffee and sugar cane so obscenely profitable.
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AN ICELANDIC GARDEN

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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.

 

We were on tour that took us on a visit to what must be one of the more northerly gardens in the world: Skrudur, the first Icelandic botanical garden.
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Floating Into Retirement

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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

STROLLING ON THE STROGET

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The Strøget is the longest shopping street in Europe and a delightful place to spend a sunny afternoon peering in the show windows, sipping coffee and smiling at the active street scene.

This visit I started from the Radhaus, the city hall, with its strange fountain  depicting a dragon and bull furiously fighting. It stands on the side nearest Tivoli Gardens. A Viking duo eternally blowing their horns are perched far up on a pillar on the other side of the building.
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THE VILLA FARNESE

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Low clouds and mist enveloped Rome. It was cold. Even worse, the city was in chaos with demonstrations by flag-waving groups loudly protesting against the construction of a high-speed rail line in the north of Italy. Most of the demonstraters were dressed in jeans and sweaters but a group looking like monks with brown robes were standing around with cigarettes stuck in the middle of their mouths while waiting for their marching orders. Stores were shuttered and transit was tied in knots.
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FIFTY SHADES OF GREY – AND GREEN

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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

VOODOO FOR BEGINNERS

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When we docked in Lomé, Togo at seven in the morning it was already burning hot. The stilt dancers and drummers on the dock were dripping with sweat.

Looking past the exuberant welcome I could see the hospital ship Africa Mercymoored nearby. Lines of sick and injured waited patiently to receive its mercies. The reality of West Africa with its scenes of deprivation mixed with smiles and music were before me.

Our guide and the driver pulled up in an air conditioned van and my husband, Glenn, and I gratefully slid into the delicious coolness.
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Girls’ Week in Rome

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“Should we?” I said to my daughter.
And of course she answered, “We should.”

Our husbands rolled their eyes – they’re off again they commiserated.
Spring can be pretty dull in Seattle and we needed some sun (and of course good food, wine and shopping). I hadn’t been in Italy since October – too long for me. But I also had a reason to visit Rome other than just enjoying la dolce vita. I’m working on a novel set in Rome and wanted to check out some of the settings to ensure I hadn’t misremembered.
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The Scent of Cloves

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The rain had stopped. We waited by a five-passenger plane that was to take us to Zanzibar, Tanzania, a 30-minute flight east from Dar es Salaam, the east African country’s largest city. The pilot showed up late, looking distinctly worse for wear with bags under his eyes and a rumpled uniform. His henna-dyed hair showed grey roots.


He motioned for us to board, slammed the door shut and fiddled with his instruments. The single engine coughed, then purred and we took off.
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