My Favorite Travel Book: The Historian

Love a travel book…..

inpursuitofadventureblog's avatarIn Pursuit of Adventure

The Historian

My absolutely favorite book about travel is called The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova.  It is a tale of three intersecting timelines of a family working together to track down and eliminate Dracula. The story spans several different generations and also several different countries during these different time periods.  I am probably going to botch the summary of this book so here is what it says on the back of the book:

“Late one night, exploring her father’s library, a young woman finds an ancient book and a cache of yellowing letters.  The letters are all addressed to “My dear and unfortunate successor”, and they plunge her into a world she never dreamed of – a labyrinth where the secrets of her father’s past and her mother’s mysterious fate connect to an inconceivable evil hidden in the depths of history.

The letters provide links to one of the darkest powers that…

View original post 269 more words

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Things that go bump in the night. You must do the things you think you cannot do. Eleanor Roosevelt.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. Max Ehrmann, “Desiderata”

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT.
I was on my feet as though I had shot out of cannon. Whatever the noise was it was cataclysmic. For some reason the first thought in my mind was that an aeroplane had crashed into the house.
I ran out of my bedroom and then bumped into my oldest son on the landing. We stared at each other frozen with shock. Theo was now six foot three and very much a capable man. He held on to me as we rocked backwards and forwards in the turbulent, violent conditions. I have never been so scared either before or since. As the lightening flashed I looked over his shoulder, through his bedroom window, and realised that not only had my plants gone forever but so had my beloved greenhouse. Gone forever, disappeared into that raging night!
“What the hell is happening” I managed to scream.
My husband joined us on the landing and from our vantage point we realised that the tree had come through the house and had completely blocked the stairs. A hurricane storm had blown away everything in its path, flinging it wildly into the air. The three of us were being pressed against the walls by the menacing, gale force ferocity of the wind.
My husband made his way down the hallway inch by inch flattened against the wall by the ferocity of the wind and the pouring rain that was coming sideways and stinging everybody. He was going to get Miranda who could sleep through anything. Theo made his way after him to rescue our youngest son who was stood wild eyed at his bedroom door.
The strength of the roaring storm pushed me violently back into the bedroom and experienced a moment of sheer unbridled terror. It was the noise that was the worst, like the roar of a hundred jet engines. I forced my way back onto the landing looking for my precious family. I saw my oldest son first with his thirteen year old brother  hanging onto his back. He brushed forcefully past me and flung his brother on the bed.
He dashed back to look for his father and sister and I realised I was being peppered by thousands of little stones all over my body and face. We had a large gravelled driveway and the force of the wind was swirling the gravel in the air and sending it pell mell into the house through the open frontage. Myriad plants and muddy soil were following close behind like missiles in a raid. I felt faint and started to shake then I realised that I was holding my breath.
I let it go in relief, as I saw my husband, daughter and oldest son in a line, backs against the wall coming towards me step by step along the landing wall. I ran back into the bedroom to comfort my youngest son and when they reached the bedroom door they managed to push it closed behind them and barricade it with a chest of drawers …….

Extract from The Boomer Generation by Carole Mccall due out in  May 2015.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Photo pop-up: Reflections of the Alhambra

wonderful memories of this place…

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A return to Singapore

What a beautiful place…

James's avatarPlus Ultra

Singapore_1

Over dinner one night, many months ago, mother told us something I would never forget. “Actually,” she said in Cantonese, “you [two] are sons of the Southern Sea.” I do not recall the context of those words, nor the sentence that preceded it, but I was struck by the poetic truth embedded within. For although we consider Hong Kong our hometown, my brother and I were born in a rival city far closer to the Equator.

View original post 415 more words

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Blue Jaguar

We chatted about this and that and then stopped for coffee before we hit the A 27. This was the road that would take us along the coast to Chichester. He put on Radio Three and so I moved my seat back slightly and closed my eyes hoping to secure just a few minutes for a little snooze. I could not remember every feeling so relaxed.
Suddenly the car skidded to a halt. ”Just get out of the car, now” my husband said loudly through clenched teeth. I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was a large retirement home sign. It said “Hillwood Retirement Home” and I could see gaily decorated static caravans peeping in and out of a pleasant wooded area.
Just as I began to think “Surely not,Is he really going to…?” He spoke again.
“Get out the car now darling, it is dangerously overheated and we need to be outside the car rather than in it”
I grabbed my bag and did an approximation of a wonky, slow motion leap out on to the pavement. Fortunately we had stopped at a bus stop but the cars, buses and trucks were still whizzing past at a very fast speed rocking our parked car from side to side. I looked across at my husband who was busy ringing the breakdown service and had on a very serious face.
“I am going to miss my meeting” he offered testily and then “the breakdown people will be an hour.”

Extract from The Communication Generation by Carole McCall  to be published in June 2015
I left him talking business on his mobile phone and signalled that I was going to have a little wander around the wooded park. I decided I could always say I was a potential customer if anyone questioned me about where I was headed.
Everyone I met looked cheerful and relaxed and said “Good Morning” in the manner of the residents of the small Lakeland village I used to live in when my children were babies.
After thirty minutes of looking this way and that I made my way back to the main road and I was not even sure Grant had noticed I had gone, so engrossed was he in his phone call.
After an hour or so a very capable engineer arrived and diagnosed a faulty screw on the water pump. He parked his van behind our car and declared the vehicle safe enough for me to sit in .
I put on Radio Two and started humming along to music as I watched two men spend two hours peering under the bonnet of an ancient blue Jaguar. Grant finally got back into the car,” Wonderful chap, he is an ex British Leyland engineer, thinks he has fixed it.”
He explained that the chap would follow us for the next few miles before he drove off “Just to make sure the problem is solved” he announced.
Less than five minutes later the dashboard sign was bright red and there was faint effluvia of singed wiring to signal that the engine was red hot again. Fortunately we were close to a service station car park so we pulled in quickly and stopped.
“It’s the water pump then, you will need a low loader to take you home” were the engineer’s last words as he drove off. The promised thirty minutes wait went by and then another hour disappeared. An offer to play I spy was firmly refused.
A stroll for a bag of crisps from the garage had been my only exercise in many hours and my legs had started to become achy and numb.
After some discussion we decided to walk up and down an adjacent road from where we could still see the car and the arrival of the breakdown truck………

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Canovelles Sunday Market in Pictures

Canovelles Sunday Market in Pictures.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Tallest Building in Las Vegas

We were staying at The Stratosphere, the tallest building in town. We were headed for The Top of The World Restaurant 800 feet above ground level. The lift doors opened with barely a whisper and a smartly dressed middle aged man smiled invitingly at us as he beckoned us into the cavernous space. Within a heartbeat the doors opened and we were being ushered out into the restaurant by the maître d.
We were seated at a delightful table overlooking the Strip and as I was wriggling comfortably back in my seat and looking around at our fellow diners I heard my husband say “ Hello there sir ,would you mind moving us from this table as I feel we are far too near the kitchen”.
The handsome young waiter who could hardly contain his mirth and replied politely “If you would like to wait there for a few more moments’ sir, you will find the kitchen will disappear from view as we are in a revolving restaurant.”
My husband thought that was hilarious and was still chuckling when he began to study the capacious menu.
We eventually decided on the four course tasting menu. Grant had rich Lobster bisque and I had my usual Caesar salad. The second course was a no brainer; we both opted for the lump crab cakes with green papaya kimchee.
I was not sure I had ever had kimchee but spicy, fermented pickle tasted fine. The third course was the most delicious grilled centre cut fillet with red wine sauce and wild mushrooms. For desert we had a mini duo each which gave us a taste of all things chocolate, fruit and meringue.
We had the wine recommended with each course as well as the aperitif and liqueurs. When I got up to visit the powder room I was not sure whether it was me or the revolving restaurant that was moving…..

Extract from The Lotus Generation published December Ist 2014

Posted in Las Vegas | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Eat here: Yellow River Cafe, Hoi An, Vietnam

Eat here: Yellow River Cafe, Hoi An, Vietnam.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

The Lovely Flowers

The human condition means that very quickly the unfamiliar becomes familiar and a sense of normality prevails.Twice a week there was a large market dating back centuries. The flower selling with their magnificent displays meant that I could fill my houses with whatever was in season for less than £10 a week.
Spring meant cream vases full of sweet smelling lilac or blue hyacinths for the sitting room. The door to this room at the front of the house was mostly kept closed and the perfume of the hyacinths mixed with the faint scent of lavender polish from the antique desk brought back memories of my grandmother’s elegant old house.
Daffodils and jonquils of every shade of yellow and white filled every surface in the kitchen. The family joke was that you could never find a jug for the custard, gravy or mint sauce as they were all full of daffodils.
My favourite flower receptacle was a blue and white striped jug chipped and a little bashed round the edges over the years. It had belonged to my great grandmother Hannah and it always took pride of place on my kitchen table wherever I lived.
Hannah had taught me the art of flower arranging when I was small. She had owned a magnificent hotel and left most things to the staff but the flowers were her domain even into her eighties.
Each spring the rows of tulips were breath-taking and I would stand and chat to the lady flower seller whilst making my choice. She would always laugh when I asked for the same thing. “Arms full of orange parrot tulips to go.please”
For summer, with its warmer weather, I brought out my mother’s crystal vases and bought fat pink peonies, majestic white lilies, and lilac phlox for the dining room .White pottery jugs held huge orange marigolds on the kitchen window ledge and pine dresser.
I love the smell of autumn bonfires and wet leaves. My favourite flowers for the house were my antique blue vases either side of the mantelpiece filled with bright yellow, white and bronze chrysanthemums. I also loved to put huge purple pots of them by the front door for passers-by to enjoy.
The things I loved most in autumn were the fat orange pumpkins used as doorstops whilst they waited to be transformed by little hands into lanterns for a Halloween treat.
Winter for me has always meant poinsettias. Large Red ones, of course either side of the dining room fireplace but also pink and cream ones scattered about the house. On the console table stands an African violet, watered carefully, to avoid splashing the leaves and a Christmas cactus with its fat pink buds.
Then just before Christmas miraculously the perfect daffodils arrive again. In a perfect slender vase, looking for all the world like forced rhubarb stands a tiny bunch of hope for the coming year.

Excerpt from The Lotus Generation by Carole McCall published on December 1st 2014

Posted in The Beautiful Flowers | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

The Games People Play…

Food for thought….

deepaklodhia's avatarInspiring Speakers

IMG_0582.JPG

Why do you go to work – for the pay or to play?

Money takes the L out of PLAY and we forget that life is just a game. The game is just an exchange and interplay of energies, a divine dance. You give the energy of your head and hands, and you receive money in return. Misery comes when you live only to receive. This is how we kill the fun in life. Every scene in our life is a game requiring certain skills and abilities to play it well. When you do, and you taste success at playing, you’re having fun again. Put the L back in PAY, and watch work transform itself into a game, a dance. Go to play, not for the pay. Pay is just a bonus!

By the way if you have not guessed it yet the L = LOVE

Love

Deepak

http://www.DeepakLodhia.com

View original post

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment